#IF YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES WOULD ACTUALLY GO OUT AND VOTE AND BE INFORMED SHIT COULD ACTUALLY CHANGE

[die-tenebris]

Sick to death of posts on tumblr reading like the voter disenfranchisement from all the past elections. We all need to vote. If you can, you'd better vote. Be pragmatic. Be realistic. Don't let somebody prevent you from exercising the singular right you have to decide things in this rancid country.

[takenyoomies]

Bonten Abbey: (mis)Aventures to the Arcade

Summary:

Sanzu Haruchiyo was known for many things...pill-popping, being late, and most importantly, wrecking the flow of the weekly Wednesday board meeting. What would this week hold? None of the other members of Bonten wanted to find out when he was once again late to the meeting which only spelled one thing for them. Disaster. Word Count: 8.7k Read on AO3

It was a Wednesday, and a Wednesday meant one thing for the Bonten gang. The weekly board meeting that nearly every single member in the top brass gang seemed to dread, loathe, and despise. It was often typical for each member to discuss their part for the designated five minutes. However,  going over time would cause extreme tension in the sardine-can-sized conference room that would rival being trapped in a room with a rabid badger. In addition, there were times when other off-topic conversations occurred that in Akashi Takeomi’s quoted words were “an absolute fucking mess.” All in all, the meetings tended to go through without a hitch. However, today was not one of those days as Sanzu Haruchiyo strolled into the conference room with a shit-eating grin that rivaled no one else,  fashionably late, of course.

“Hey, Sanzu!” An annoyed Mochi shouted at the man who entered, whipping his head around at the sound of the door closing, teeth barred and fists clenched in anger.

“Yo, Mochi.” Sanzu waved, trouncing over and sliding down into the uncomfortable and hard leather seat.

“We have a set meeting time, jackass.” Kokonoi hissed.

“Like he’d  ever  listen to that Koko….” Ran laughed, shaking his head.

“Important business called me.” The pink-haired man sighed blissfully, shrugging almost sarcastically to the platinum blond accountant’s dismay.

“I doubt that highly.” Rindou breathed.

“Oh, and what would that be?” Takeomi chimed in, a brow raised as he put out his cigarette.

“I’m  so  glad you asked!”

Reaching into his pocket with excited fingers, the pink-haired mullet sporting man pulled out a folded piece of paper. One would think this was some grandiose plan, some information regarding their competition, something important. But, no, Haruchiyo Sanzu unfolded the piece of colorful paper and slammed it onto the mahogany conference table, looking up at the group of men with a smirk.

“...Please tell me it’s actually important this time.” One of them said with a sigh. It didn’t matter which one.

“Oh, trust me, it’s of the utmost importance.” Sanzu assured, holding up his right hand, “Swear on Mucho’s grave.”

“The last time you used that, we ended up deserted at some movie theater that was showing a crappy porno...so that’s out the window, and you’re about to be too if this is something-” Mochi ranted, taking a glance at the piece of paper, “Are you fucking serious?” He asked in disbelief.

“What is it this time?” Kakucho finally spoke with an exasperated sigh, standing up from his seat and walking over to take a look at the piece of paper, “An arcade?” He asked with a raised brow as he looked over to the pink-haired man.

“Yeah, they’re running a deal where if eight people come as a group, you get 50% off.” He leaned back in the chair, putting his feet onto the table with a thud, “Therefore, I think we should take advantage of it and get off our depressed asses for a change.” Sanzu concluded with a nod.

There was a click in the background as Takeomi lit another cigarette. “I’m fine without having to babysit for the day.” Takeomi stated, then taking a heavy hit off of the cigarette, exhaling upward, “Interrupting a meeting for this is rather pointless, Haruchiyo Sanzu….”

“I think it sounds like a good time. Reminds me of when we were back in Tenjiku, right Rindou?” Ran turned to his brother, who sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess there’s some nostalgia there.” The younger Haitani agreed.

“2-1.” Sanzu stated, pointing to the others in the room, “Mochi, Kakucho, Koko….” He said to each as he pointed to each of them with his index finger, pausing as he hovered over the sleeping Mikey, not daring to wake him up.

“It’s a waste of our funds, and judging from the fact we recently recovered from the great  Bonten Has To Eat Instant Noodles For Two Months issue...It’s a no from me as well.” Kokonoi explained as he slid his hands together, “I’m sadly not in the mood for instant noodles again.”

Sanzu rolled his eyes, “Stop being a drama queen, and it wasn’t  that  bad.”

“It was fucking awful. What the fuck are you talking about?” Mochi argued, “Just for that, it’s a no from me too.”

“Bullshit, you’re voting based on emotions.” Sanzu cried out, swinging his feet off the table and slamming his fists onto it with a loud thud.

“What if I am?!” Mochi screamed, holding his fists up, dropping the flyer onto the floor for Kakucho to pick up.

“Oh god, here we go again…” The younger Haitani laughed, laying onto the surface in front of him as he watched the fight unfold.

“Zero days without incident at a Bonten Board Meeting….” Takeomi sighed, shaking his head in dismay.

“Did we ever have a positive count…” Kokonoi asked in confusion.

“Nope.” Ran snorted as he shook his head.

“I think it’d be interesting.” The normally quiet Kakucho spoke up, placing the flyer onto the table near the sleeping blond.

“See? I knew Kakucho was my favorite for a reason.” Sanzu pointed towards Kakucho, who blinked and pointed towards himself to ask ‘who, me?’.

“Didn’t you say Rindou was your favorite last week?” Ran questioned, an index finger on his cheek in sarcastic thought, “Oh right, it was for  ‘agreeing with you about how strawberry shortcake is better than strawberry cheesecake’  …” Pointing at Sanzu.

Rindou jabbed his brother in the stomach with an elbow, causing the taller of the two to emit a dull ‘ ow,’  “Don’t bring me into this.”

“That was an important conversation. Mochi was trying to say cheesecake was better than real cake,” Sanzu clarified, “I’m not going to rehash old beef, though.” He held up two hands as if to say he didn’t care. However, it only seemed to anger Mochi more as he drew back a fist. Kakucho began to get ready to hold the brawny man back for the umpteenth time.

However, a small yawn from the front of the table, causing every person to freeze. Mochi and Kakucho returned to their seats quickly as the blond who had once been asleep opened his dark, inky eyes.

“...All of you are unnaturally quiet,” He finally spoke, looking around at each of the men seated at the table. He then glanced down at the sheet of paper that was settled in front of him, “What’s this?”

Sanzu gulped. This was officially a make-or-break moment for his plan, “Ah, Mikey...it’s for an arcade that’s running a deal….” He trailed off nervously.

The blond’s obsidian eyes glanced over the information listed on the paper before pausing at the section relating to food and looking back up at the group of men, “We’re going.”

Sanzu smirked and looked directly at Takeomi, who looked as though he wanted to crawl into a ditch and die, “Sanzu - 1 Takeomi - 0.” He jousted.

“If we were keeping track history-wise, you’d be so far in the red you’d be begging for someone to come save you,” Takeomi shot back, shrugging his shoulders and standing from his seat. He walked towards the door of the conference room, turning his head to Sanzu, “but you do that enough already, huh?” Finishing with a dry laugh as he exited the conference room.

“What the fuck? I’m not Koko.”

“I’m right here…?” Kokonoi shook his head in disbelief, standing from his seat at the table with a huff and kicking the chair back into place, “If I have to eat instant noodles for two months again, I will  never  forgive any of you assholes….” Pointing a finger around the room, stopping before Mikey, turning on his designer heels, and walking out of the room. You could hear the faint echo of his heels trailing down the concrete hallway.

“And then there were….” Sanzu counted himself and the heads in the room, holding up one hand to count only to realize he didn’t have enough fingers, “Anyways, when are we going?”

“The flyer said the deal is only good until Sunday; therefore, we need to go before then.” Kakucho informed the group, “Since it’s Wednesday, and we each have jobs to do until early Saturday morning...I’d suggest Saturday afternoon.”

“Overall, that sounds like it would work with our current plans, Kakucho.” Mikey agreed, his obsidian gaze staring holes into the heterochromatic man’s soul.

Kakucho nodded his head, “I’ll be taking my leave now. I have some things I need to tie up.” Then, standing up from his chair, pushing the chair in, and silently walking out the door to the conference room.

“We’ll get going as well, then.” Ran suddenly spoke as he stood up lazily, a scuffling noise coming from the chair.

“You act as though we’re going to the same place….” The younger Haitani breathed, shaking his head and rolling his lavender eyes at his brother’s statement.

“I thought you said we’re going out for lunch?” Ran pouted, hands on his hips.

“I said I was going to get lunch, and you invited yourself again.”

“I don’t see what the problem is with that?”

“Everything, everything is the problem with that.” Rindou turned to his brother as he finally stood from his place at the table with a huff.

“Can I come wi-” Mochi started to ask, only to be interrupted.

“NO!” Both Ran and Rindou yelled simultaneously to Mochi.

“Tough crowd…” Sanzu snorted to Mochi.

“Listen-” Mochi started, cracking his knuckles, only to be shot a look by Mikey.

“I’d be careful Sanzu, Kakucho already left, and that makes the chances of your face getting smashed in about 8-2.” Ran pointed with some underlying amusement, almost hoping that there would be another fight.

“Wow! Is everyone Koko today?!” He asked incredulously, putting his head in his palm and looking at the older Haitani, “If I didn’t know better...you did our taxes, Ran!”

“...But, I do help with those?” He questioned in a confused tone, blinking.

“Leave him. He’s hopeless.” Rindou sighed, “Mochi, come with us to lunch before you get put on punishment duty by Mikey.”

“I wasn’t gonna do shit.” Mochi huffed, glaring at the pink-haired man, “What are you lookin’ at?”

“Nothing, nothing...it’s just-” Sanzu paused, leaning forward in his seat to get a closer look at Mochi.

“It’s just what?” Mochi spat.

“Your beard...you shaved it crooked this morning, and it’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve  ever  seen.”

Yes, it was at this moment that Mikey indeed questioned if he formed the deadliest gang in all of Tokyo...or if he formed the most immature band of toddlers in all the land of Japan.

---x---

“So, who's driving?” Sanzu asked lazily on that faithful Saturday afternoon.

“The last time Rindou drove, he floored it past an old lady because she was driving the speed limit and nearly crashed us into a gasoline tanker, so...I vote not Rind-OW what was that for?!” Kokonoi yelped, getting elbowed in the side by Rindou.

“She was going eight under the speed limit, number one, and number two. I drive fine compared to somebody!” The long-haired man glaring over to Mochi.

“Eat shit.” Mochi replied, flipping Rindou the bird, “Let Kakucho drive; he’s safe.”

Sanzu groaned loudly, “But Kakucho drives like a grandma.”

“And how is that a bad thing?” Kakucho sighed, shaking his head.

“We’re gonna get there at sundown if you drive.” Sanzu pointed out.

“Oh, true.” Ran chimed in with a thoughtful nod.

“I don’t drive  that  slow.”

“Yes, you do,” Sanzu breathed, “Next.” Kakucho held out his hand, only to put it down in defeat.

“Alright, since Sanzu is an absolute fuckwit about this, I’ll drive. One catch, though,” Takeomi spoke up as he threw his cigarette onto the pavement, crushing it under his shoe.

“Ooooh, Takeomi enters the chat.” Sanzu mooned.

“Shut up,” He shook his head, “I get full control of the radio.”

Everyone went silent, staring at one another in horror.

“Sanzu, let someone else drive,” Kokonoi spoke up finally.

“Yeah, please, let someone else drive.” Rindou shook.

“I don’t want to deal with this for 45 minutes.” Mochi looked over at Takeomi, lighting another cigarette, who had a sinister look in his eyes.

Mikey finally strolled down into the parking garage, noticing no one was in the bus, “Who’s driving.”

“Takeomi is,” Sanzu replied, a collective sigh from the group as Takeomi chuckled to himself.

As everyone began boarding the bus, Mikey clung behind with Kakucho, only to ask a singular question, “Does this mean he has control of the radio again?”

“We’re sadly going to be listening to Russian death metal for 45 minutes….”

Mikey stared ahead before reaching into his pocket and fishing out two pairs of earplugs and handing Kakucho a couple, “Tell no one.”

The dark-haired man blinked as the other walked onto the bus, Sanzu slamming on the horn while screaming at Kakucho to “get his ass on the bus,” much to Takeomi’s annoyance as he tried to shove the pink-haired idiot away. Inwardly, he wondered about the kindness as he embarked on the self-proclaimed Bonten prison bus, holding the earplugs in his fist.

The route navigation guidance will start…

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up.” Mochi chided the navigation system.

“Don’t insult her. You’d get lost getting out of a paper bag.” Rindou snorted.

Takeomi turned his head around and glared, “I hear any more arguing, and all of you will wake up in a walk-in freezer.” He said with a sweet smile, putting the bus into gear and starting to drive out of their base.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Sanzu retorted after a moment, snickering to himself as Takeomi visibly winced in anger.

“Yeah, that’s the point, dumbass,” Kokonoi replied, slapping the back of Sanzu’s head with an open palm.

“Takeomiiii Koko hit meeee-”

Takeomi gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his knuckles on that hand turning white as his other hand skillfully reached for the pack of cigarettes and a lighter that laid on the center console. He plucked a stick out with his lips, throwing the pack back down and flicking the lighter to light the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in for a long while as if to contemplate his current life choices, such as why in the world he ever agreed to play babysitter to a group of overgrown idiots and be their chauffeur for the day. Finally, his eyes looked into the rear-view mirror, meeting Sanzu’s mischievous cerulean ones, “Good, you deserved it.”

“Fuck off, Takeomi.” Sanzu puffed, Takeomi only turning up the music louder in a petty act of revenge.

“Look what you made him do!” The blond man shrieked in horror, everyone else on the bus, minus Kakucho and Mikey, glaring at the pink-haired offender.

“I didn’t do anything! He turned it up himself!” Sanzu defended.

“I’m rating Takeomi 1 star on Uber,” The older of the Haitani brothers joked, “Worst music choices, worst attitude, smokes in the car-”

“You can walk if you want,” Takeomi called out, “But remember, I had to carry you home after that mission because you twisted your ankle because you decided to wear those new Gucci shoes...I think you’d be too far up shit creek to stand on your own.”

Ran blushed furiously, “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Rindou snorting and holding his sides, “Bro, that’s why you were limping that week? You said you slipped on the ice...It was your shoes?!” He wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re absolutely hopeless, Ran….” Kokonoi facepalmed, chuckling.

“I am not. I’m reporting you to HR!” The short-haired man pouted, crossing his arms.

Sanzu snorted, “Did you mean Kakucho?” Looking over to the dark-haired man who was staring out the window, “Oh shit, he’s brooding.”

Mochi sighed, “Someone get the tissues ready.”

“Earth to Kakucho, come in to Kakucho...Return to planet earth!!” Sanzu yelled, causing Takeomi to glare at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Sanzu, that walk-in freezer has your name on it...I know a place relatively close by.” Takeomi threatened.

Turn left at the next intersection, then turn right.

“Bullshit, that’s the long way.” Takeomi hissed, throwing his cigarette out the window angrily, “Who designed this.”

“Please do not take us on another scenic route again…” Sanzu whined painfully, “It’s on the GPS for a reason. We do not need to relive the Black Dragons glory days.”

Takeomi rolled his eyes, “For your information, my glory days have nothing to do with getting us there faster.”

“Mhm...keep telling yourself that.” Sanzu replied snarkily, “Are we there yet?”

“Mikey, do you still have the duct tape in the bus?” Kokonoi perked up suddenly, clapping his hands together, “I suddenly thought of a great project for us!”

“I don’t like the sound of this project.” Sanzu objected.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll just  love  it.” The light-haired man reassured Sanzu, brushing his hand against his arm gently, the other retreating with disgust. Kokonoi snorted with laughter, “What, scared?”

“No, I don’t want to catch your reverse sister complex.”

Kokonoi stared at the other with his mouth wide open, Sanzu rolling his eyes in return, “I was at the Kanto Incident, don’t act like people don’t have ears when you and what’s his face were out there screaming about it….”

“Yeah, you were screaming about it, Koko.” Mochi agreed, Sanzu blinking that the man had agreed with him.

“Oh yeah, I remember that!” Ran exclaimed.

“Survey says Tenjiku remembers it Koko.” Sanzu shrugged.

“Go to hell, and stay there.” Kokonoi huffed, blowing his bangs off his face.

Sanzu crossed his arms, smirking smugly, “You’re just mad because I won.”

“Oh god, he’s crying.” Mochi whispered, nodding his head toward Kakucho, “Sanzu, you just fucking  had  to bring up Tenjiku, didn’t you?”

“Nice going Sanzu, that’s the 3rd time this month you did it, too.” Rindou pointed out, “I don’t think we have tissues in the fucking bus anymore.”

“Why the fuck not?!” Mochi hissed, “Oh wait….” His eyes trailing over to the elder Haitani, who was looking to the side inconspicuously.

Rindou’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother, “Yeah, hm, perhaps because someone decided to hop in with a fresh bullet wound….”

“Listen, it was a bad night...week...month….” He attempted in defense, each increment of time making Rindou raise his brow higher and higher, “ Year?” Finally, causing the younger brother to nod in agreement.

“Wow, Ran...it’s almost as though you’re more useless than Sanzu,” Takeomi muttered sarcastically, offended gasps resonating from both Sanzu and Ran.

“At least I know how to cook without setting the fire alarms off,” Ran spoke incredulously.

“You forgot the sprinklers too.” Rindou chimed in.

“Hey,” Sanzu spoke, turning his head to them.

“Please, let us all not forget about the time he came to a meeting to discuss the fine intricacies of how orange juice makes you taste weird after you brush your teeth,” Mochi added, shaking his head in disproval.

“I’m right here!” Sanzu yelled in a huff.

You have arrived at your destination.

“Thank fucking god,” Takeomi sighed, putting the bus in park, “Someone wake Mikey up.”

---x---

Surprisingly, the arcade was located in a relatively remote part of town compared to where Bonten typically walked their regular routes. However, this did not stop several people from staring as the rag-tag crew disembarked the converted prison bus.

“Hey, hey...who are those people…”

“They look kinda scary.….”

“Alright, so game plan time.” Sanzu began as they walked towards the doors of the arcade.

“I’ll go in, so you get the deal. However, I’ll be standing outside to smoke otherwise.” Takeomi concluded.

“What?!” Sanzu shrieked in disbelief, “No, you have to participate.”

“No, I don’t.” The scar-faced man replied coldly.

“Let it go Sanzu, Takeomi can keep watch.” Kakuchou offered, “And he needs a break too. He just drove for almost an hour.”

Takeomi nodded his head in agreement, “Couldn’t have said it better.”

Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance, looking over to the blond for help, “Mikey….” He pleaded in a petulant manner.

“Let him rest.” Mikey stated, “He’s been pulling overnights, too.”

Takeomi smirked towards Sanzu, who only seemed to get more aggravated as he aggressively pulled open the doors to the arcade with a loud, “Fine!”

The arcade was anything you would expect, loud, smelled a bit musty, and was vibrant beyond compare. However, there was a slight scent of cheese for some strange reason. Heading towards the counter, the eight members of Bonten cashed in for several game cards that were quickly handed to none of than Hajime Kokonoi himself.

“Wait, why me?” He asked incredulously.

“Weren’t you the one who said,  oh, I don’t wanna eat instant noodles for a month ?” Sanzu mocked, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but we’re all adults here and can manage fine….” The platinum blond trailed off, looking around in a confused manner.

“Yeah, Koko, don’t be a hypocrite.”The older Haitani agreed, hands on his hips.

“Are you seriously agreeing with him?!” Koko cried in astonishment.

“Well, I think that settles it,” Sanzu said with a smirk, “You can go play like, one game or something like that.”

“Sanzu, is the word ‘nice’ in your dictionary, or did that get removed when you started your drug usage?” Kakucho asked, blinking.

Sanzu turned and looked at the other man, “I could say something right now, but it would amount to the fourth time this month.”

“Alright, let’s just get on with this shit.” Mochi finally said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Yeah...I’m going….” Sanzu waved his hand as he walked in the other direction, likely off to find something that piqued his interest.

Ran turned to Rindou, “I wonder if they have DDR here….” He wondered aloud, his lavender eyes glancing around the area only to light up in amusement, “I see it!”

“Oh, it’s on.” Rindou smirked, “Ready for a revenge match, bro?”

“Like I’d ever miss it for the world.” Ran laughed as they both made a bee-line for the machine.

“What are you gonna, do Kakucho?” Mochi asked, turning to the jet-black-haired man.

“I’m not sure; I haven’t been to an arcade since….” He trailed off and looked to the floor.

“Get out of your head for once.” Mochi punched the other lightly in the shoulder with a grin, “Can’t stay in there forever, huh?”

Kakucho looked towards the other man and nodded, “You’re right.”

The two began walking around, attempting to find something to do in the vast array of games and activities, stopping now and then for Mochi to try something and only failing at it miserably, only to have Kakucho show Mochi how to do it properly. Eventually, both came upon a motorcycle racing game, their eyes lighting up as they used to long ago.

“Mochi?” Kakucho asked quietly, though loud enough to hear over the several kids screaming in the background.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“We’re playing this.” He declared.

“I mean, I figured when you stopped right there and were staring at it like it was some sexy chick at the strip club.” Mochi snorted, Kakucho staring at him as though he had two heads.

“Your disrespect for women is unimaginable.” He huffed as he hopped onto the motorcycle.

Mochi let out a hearty chuckle as he climbed onto the adjacent motorcycle, “Preaching respect women while in a gang that deals with prostitution,” He slid the card into the reader twice, “That’s some funny shit.”

“Oh screw, you.” Kakucho pouted as he swerved the motorcycles to select the rider, pausing over a white-haired rider and selecting them.

Mochi stared a moment, blinking at the fact Kakucho had chosen a character that looked like Izana. He shook his head and chose a random character, not exactly caring.

3...2...1...START!

“Oh fuck me, this ain’t nothin’ like the real shit.” Mochi cursed as he attempted to steer, crashing out several times with a string of curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; this is pretty easy?” Kakucho replied, already in 1st place.

“How the fuck!” Mochi swore in anger, attempting to climb back into a semi-reputable position, only to realize he was in 9th place, closing in on 10th.

Kakucho tilted his body through a turn and smiled; he was having fun with this. He truly missed being able to go to the arcade with friends, with Izana. He wondered if they could do this more often...if Bonten could. He was drawn from his thoughts as Mochi swore loudly again, making him laugh, “Mochi, do you need help?”

“How the fuck are you gonna help me from there?!” The bulky man swore, now in 12th place—dead last.

“I...don’t know,” Kakucho admitted, crossing the finish line and setting a course record for the game.

“This is some ungodly level bullshit right here,” Mochi complained, trying to back himself out of an in-game ditch.

Kakucho continued watching for several minutes until Mochi finally crossed the finish line, “Well done.” He congratulated.

“Oh fuck off, enter your damn name.” The bearded man hissed in envy.

Kakucho entered his initials into the game, listed under 2nd place. He wondered who had set the 1st place record for the machine, though it was likely impossible to figure out.

His head turned when he heard a cry of frustration nearby, one that he knew...Koko?

---x---

When the group had split up earlier, Haruchiyo Sanzu had given him one rule. That was he was only allowed to play one game. Several ideas ran through his head, virtual poker, which allowed him to recoup the money they were blowing here, the weird slot machine game that looked rather promising, and then, of course, the game where you had a coin and slid it down a slot to push more coins off a ledge… All of those were lovely ideas, Kokonoi thought, that was until he landed upon a red stool in front of a screen that read Deal or No Deal. He’d heard of this reality television series before, and he knew the premise.

The blond pursed his lips as he sat down, assessing the machine. There were 16 buttons on the front labeled 1 through 16 in the shape of what looked to be briefcases. Kokonoi assumed they were to represent the motifs from the show. He sighed, figuring that, if anything, this was going to be the game for him. He slid the game card through the reader, slumping onto the stool.

Get ready to play: Deal or No Deal.

“Fuck me…” Kokonoi sighed in annoyance, watching as the said sixteen cases appeared on the screen with various ticket amounts ranging from one to five hundred. Large letters appearing stating to ‘follow the cases,’ which essentially signified you were supposed to pick the largest amount.

“Oh lovely, some RNG?” He muttered sarcastically, “It’s not like we don’t get enough of that in those gacha games kids play these days….” The cases shuffled around the screen, stopping and showing designated numbers that corresponded to the buttoned below. He thought a moment before pressing the nine button.

Choose your case...this will be your personal case.

“Yeah, I already did that-” Kokonoi hissed in annoyance, spamming one of the buttons to no avail.

You chose case number nine.

“Oh.”

Now pick five cases.

“I feel like I’m playing some fucked up lottery.” He sighed, noticing the clock and swearing under his breath as he scrambled to choose a number, “Let’s continue with the ongoing theme of my name.” He pressed the 1 button.

One.

One of the virtual women on the screen opened the case to reveal a low ticket amount, Kokonoi nodding his head in approval. He pressed the 13 button, the game echoing his choice once again to show yet another low ticket amount.

“And I thought poker was a rush.” He mused to himself, pressing the 8 button. This time, a larger amount was revealed.

“And all good things come to an end.” The light-haired man sighed as he then pressed the 15, another low.

“Back in black,” He joked, leaning back as he assessed the board for the final number, “Alright, let’s try 6.” It was a high number.

There was a ring from a telephone, causing Kokonoi to look around in confusion, only to realize it was the game, “This is such a weird game….”

That’s the bank.

“Oh good, am I getting paid?”

Here is the offer...Deal or No Deal...

A ticket amount appeared on the screen, Kokonoi’s inky eyes narrowing, “That’s it?!” He cried in frustration, hitting the NO DEAL button quickly, “I think that one gang we took out last week had a better offer for us than that.” He huffed.

Now open four cases.

“Again?” He asked incredulously, shaking his head, “Fine.” He pressed the 2 button, revealing a large amount, “Goddammit.” He thought a moment as the clock ticked down.

Hurry up.

“Oh, this game did  not  just tell me to hurry up.” The fair-haired man stated saltily, pressing the 16 button, low. He smirked, “See, can’t rush perfection.” He pushed the 10 button, low again.

“One more until the bank comes crawling back to me….” Kokonoi thought aloud to himself, hovering over the 14 button and then pressing it gently. Another low amount. The phone began ringing again in the game, music to Kokonoi’s ears, in all honesty.

There’s the bank again.

“Who else would it be?” Kokonoi mocked as he waited for the offer to appear on the screen.

Here’s the offer...Deal or No Deal…

Kokonoi thought a moment as the in-game clock ticked down. While this was a remarkably better offer than the last, he knew that there was still a significant chance he would be able to win big, and after all, it was an arcade. And not to mention, the bragging rights over Sanzu would give him mental clarity for the next month. With that thought, he pressed the NO DEAL button.

Now pick three cases.

Kokonoi sucked in a breath, his heart pumping, and he rubbed his hands together, “This is starting to feel like poker.” He pressed the 3 key. High. Swearing under his breath as he then pushed the 12 key high again. He stared up at the ceiling, his grand plan starting to fall apart as he looked down and pressed the 7 key, hoping for some luck. Low. Kokonoi sighed to himself as the phone rang, knowing the offer would look like garbage compared to the last, and laughing hysterically when it was less than half of what it originally was, quickly pressing the NO DEAL button as if he had never seen it.

Now open two cases.

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad, that the highest amount is still there, or that the offer they just made was so bad I wanted to leave here and never return..” Kokonoi chuckled to himself, questioning his life choices up until this point, pressing the 5 key. High. He then pressed the 4 key, also high.

“Wait...doesn’t that mean…” He stared and blinked, “I have either the 1 ticket or 500…”

The phone ringing again to make another offer, Kokonoi spamming the NO DEAL button as he came to the realization.

Now, let’s open your case.

As the in-game woman opened the case, Kokonoi leaned forward, only for the case to reveal...One ticket. Hajime Kokonoi had won, one ticket. He screamed, slamming his hands onto the machine before holding his head in his hands, staring at the floor in anguish. By now, Kakucho and Mochi had made their way over to him.

“Koko, what happened?” Kakucho asked, leaning down to attempt to make eye contact.

“I took a calculated risk...and for what.” The blond sobbed, his hand nearly tearing his hair out in frustration.

“Uh...Koko, it’s just a game.” Mochi laughed, amused by the entire situation.

“Do you think we can put a hit on Howie?” Kokonoi asked after a moment, looking up at the two of them.

“Who the fuck is Howie?” Mochi asked.

“Isn’t that the Deal or No Deal guy?” Kakucho asked, and then noticing where they were standing, “The answer is no, we are not killing someone for your petty revenge.”

Kokonoi huffed and crossed his arms, “Fine.” He looked around, “Where’s Ran and Rindou?”

“Oh, they’re with their fan club.” Mochi snorted, “Go see for yourself.”

---x---

“They really do have it, bro!” Rindou said with a huge grin, pointing towards the bright and colorful Dance Dance Revolution machine in front of them.

“Why wouldn’t they? They had it when we were growing up in Roppongi?”

“Okay, but who the fuck knows about a weird arcade Sanzu chose.”

“You speak only the truth…” Ran laughed, stepping onto the pad and sliding the card through the reader, “Oh nice, we get three songs?”

“Remember before we’d have to keep a cup of quarters on the floor, and we’d always spill it?” Rindou asked, tying his hair into a bun and joining his brother on the game’s vibrant pad.

“Yeah, and you’d always blame me for it even though you were always the one who did it!” Ran pouted, flipping through the songs and pausing on one, the music filtering through speakers as he turned to Rindou with a sinister smirk, “What was that about a revenge match?”

Rindou grinned, crossing his arms triumphantly, “I’ll gladly bust your ass at Kimagure Mercy any day.”

“Do you still remember how we do it?” Ran questioned as he selected it, sliding off his suit jacket and slinging it over the back of the railing.

“How couldn’t I.” The bun-sporting man rolled his lavender eyes, “Aren’t you the older one, gRANdpa?”

Ran’s eyebrow twitched, “I’m not above sibling punishment Rindou.”

“Oh, I’m shaking.”

The was applause from the game, signifying the song was about to start. The two brothers faced forwards, the intro starting and patterns beginning to fall down the screen. The two started to move in unison, swaying back and forth to the beat. It wasn’t until the first verse hit that what Ran mentioned began.

The Haitani brothers had begun to dance while playing Dance Dance Revolution.

Rindou glanced over to his brother, “Oh my god can you stop being such a show-off for once?” He huffed through a laugh, clapping hands with his brother to the beat.

“Please, it’s on my wiki article!” Ran cried out, “Just like you’re a big brute.” He bopped his head.

“I am not!” The younger retorted, squinting at the screen.

“Don’t mess up, Rindou!” Ran teased and purposefully pushed the other a bit in one of their claps.

“Fuck off!”

A crowd began to grow, mainly teenage girls enamored by these two men playing the game in such a spectacular way. All of them were excitedly watching as the two played, starting to ask each other questions such as “Does anyone know their names?” “Who are they?” “Do they have an Instagram?”... Eventually, when Rindou’s name was mentioned, people began to cheer for him. Naturally, this caused a significant issue for Ran Haitani.

“Hi ladies, I’m Ran~” He sang, causing them to squeal, a smirk plastered on his face, and an annoyed groan from Rindou echoing in response.

“In another life, I wonder if you were destined to be a host.” He sighed, accidentally missing the tile on the floor, “Shit!” he swore loudly.

“You see what you get, Rindou; respect your elders.” Ran snorted, the other man glaring at him from the corner of his eyes.

“When this song is over, you better run…” He whispered, “It’s over in 23...22...21…”

“I’m so old, my hearing…” He joked, Rindou nearly grabbing his hand during one of the claps and breaking it.

The song wrapped up, Ran turning around and waving to the group of girls and Rindou slouching forwards, primarily due to rage, though also due to an insatiable desire to beat his brother to a pulp in Dance Dance Revolution.

“Again.”

“Oh, you want more?” Ran asked with a lazy smirk as he waved to the “fans”.

“We have 2 more songs.” Rindou huffed, rolling his eyes, “It’s a waste of money.”

“True,” Ran nodded his head, “Let’s pick an easier song then!” He reached for the buttons only to have his hand slapped away by the younger, a dull ‘ow’ leaving his lips.

“No, we’re playing this song until I beat you. It’s that simple.” Rindou explained, hands on his hips.

“Fine, fine.” The older relented, “Don’t blame me if you can’t beat me.”

By the time Kakucho, Mochi, and Kokonoi made it over to the Haitani brothers. The crowd was sizeable. The arcade staff attempted to get the crowd to disperse, as it was becoming a fire hazard to the facility.

“Hey Ran, Rindou, what happened here?” Mochi asked as he finally made it to the front.

The two stepped off the machine and walked over to the group, Rindou grinning as the elder brother shook his head, “I reminded him who the rightful heir to the DDR throne is.”

“Please, you only beat me once.” Ran sighed in exasperation and exhaustion.

“And that still means I beat you.” The long-haired man spoke smugly.

“Wait, so that crowd...was all for you two playing a rhythm game?” Kokonoi questioned, “That’s insane.”

“I hope they don’t follow us home, or Mikey is going to have our heads,” Kakucho pondering the probability, “Then again, they might see Takeomi and get a bit scared.”

“Is he still out smoking?” Kokonoi pondered, tilting his head to see if he could see him, “I can’t see him.”

“I thought I saw him come in with Sanzu earlier?” Ran spoke up, the entire group staring at him.

“That can’t be right. Takeomi would never go with Sanzu…” The blond-haired man stated, slightly bewildered by the information.

“Oh, there he is.” The younger Haitani pointed, Takeomi wearing a shit-eating grin as he walked back outside, the entire group then spotting a pissed-off Sanzu.

---x---

Sanzu was officially bored. He thought that coming to the arcade would be an excellent way to spend some time away from things, though it only seemed to create more issues. What was worse was everyone else seemed to be doing their own thing, so there was no one left to mess with or bother. After an hour of wandering around and playing several games that held his attention for a few minutes or less, he set his sights on a bigger and better prize: Akashi Takeomi.

Yes, in actuality Akashi Takeomi was dangerous. He likely could kidnap Sanzu as he slept, lock him in a freezer, and then feed him to the fish...Though where was the fun in not messing with someone like that? He smirked to himself as he walked outside to see the scar-faced man unsurprisingly smoking.

“Ew, how many have you smoked today?” Sanzu spoke, holding his nose in mock disgust.

Takeomi didn’t even look at him, “Half a pack, give or take.”

“Smoking’s bad for you, y’know.”

“Drugs are too, but you don’t see me trying to give you a 12-step lecture.” Takeomi retorted dryly, Sanzu cackling in response.

“I gotta hand it to ya. That one was funny.” The pink-haired man pointing to the other.

“What exactly do you want?”

Sanzu clasped his hands together, “Dearest Takeomi, you’ve been out here for over an hour...I think it’s about time you came inside and actually enjoyed what we came here for.”

“No.” He replied with a laugh, “Nice try though, really love the theatrics...maybe we can get you a job with the prostitutes.”

Sanzu groaned, “Can you stop being a stick in the mud for once and be fun?”

Takeomi felt something inside him snap. Honestly, he just wanted to sit outside and smoke. He wanted not to have to deal with a specific pink-haired buffoon who continued to ruin his Saturdays over and over each week. Instead, however, he turned to the other man with a sickly sweet smile, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his shoe, “Sure, Sanzu, I’ll play one game...let’s go.”

“Really!” Sanzu’s face lit up with excitement, “Okay, let’s go!”

As they entered the arcade, Sanzu and Takeomi walked around a moment, regret beginning to wash over the older as his head began to pound from the noise and light.

“So, what do you want to play.” The pink-haired man asked, tipping his head to meet the other’s gaze.

“I don’t know, and I haven’t been to an arcade in fuck all knows.” Takeomi hissed, rubbing his temples, “Can you make it quick?”

“Jeez, I didn’t know they made you when the dinosaurs still walked the planet.” Sanzu grumbled, “Let’s go for a shooter then.” The two of them walking towards a Western-style shooting game that had plastic guns.

“Why am I not surprised.” The dark-haired man breathed, shaking his head.

“What? Sorry, I’m good at what I’m good at?” Sanzu mocked, shrugging his shoulders, “Anyways, it’s pretty self-explanatory...aim, pull the trigger, boom.”

Takeomi smirked. What Sanzu didn’t know was, he knew how to play this game. He knew far too well how to play this game because, during his days as a Brahma captain, Senju and himself would often sit in arcades and play. Sanzu Haruchiyo had sentenced himself to an early grave with this one, no matter how good a shot he was.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The pink-haired man nodding his head towards the machine.

“I’m broke; you pay for it.”

“How the fuck are you broke if you- Nevermind.” Sanzu started, shaking his head and sliding his game card through the reader, “Let’s settle this.”

The older stepped up to the gallery, picking up the model gun and testing the weight in his hands before settling on a position.

Ready...Start!

Enemies started popping onto the screen, Sanzu quickly shooting the targets that were his color. He thought to himself it would be easy to best the older man until he realized he was keeping pace, and his score was already twice his based on the accuracy bonus.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Sanzu started, beginning to get ruffled by the sudden turn of events.

“What is it Sanzu, maybe you should aim a bit better, or is that too difficult?” Takeomi replied cooly as he blasted the head off of a zombie, “Oh, that was a good one.”

“Are you  shitting  me?” He cried out in response, “You actually know how to play this?” Sanzu was aiming for one of the enemy bonuses. However, he missed miserably. He swore under his breath, much to Takeomi’s delight.

“It’s been a good oh, what did you call it...era.” He mused as they made it to the boss level, “But for someone as young as you, this must be easy, right?” His voice dripping with poison.

“There’s still the boss level. I can-” He looked at the scores, feeling the color drain out of his face.

“What was that, Sanzu? My old deaf ears can’t hear you over the sound of your absolute thrashing.” He chuckled, “But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll recover in time to hear you cry.”

“Do we just need to get you a nicotine drip? I don’t think the patch is gonna cut it with you.” Sanzu groaned, “Or, do you want one of my pills? Those might take your edge off too.”

“Take the joke, Sanzu,” He sighed, the game finishing out and Takeomi writing his initials in the records list, “Have a good time trying to beat that, though.” The older smirking, patting the other on the back as he walked towards the entrance, shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he pulled out another cigarette from his ever-dwindling pack.

Sanzu stared at the score in disbelief. He couldn’t beat that score today. He would have to come back another day to beat it, but he would beat it, no matter what. He stomped his foot in frustration, only to notice the entire Bonten group was looking, sans Mikey. He blinked and did what any person with an IQ between 85 and 115 would do...make a break for the food court before he could be harassed.

---x---

Was this the main reason Mikey agreed to this excursion? He didn’t want to admit to it. However, when the flyer said they had six different types of taiyaki in the featured food court, Mikey was sold instantly on the idea, as embarrassing as it was. He quietly walked towards the counter, scanning the menu with his pitch-black eyes only to discover there were, in fact, now eight taiyaki options. He smiled softly to himself as the person operating the counter looked on in confusion at the strange man in front of them, “Can I help you?” The food court employee asked him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

“Taiyaki, all of them,” Mikey said, sliding a large bill onto the counter.

“Do you mean all of the kinds or...all of them, all of them.” The employee clarified, thinking to themselves.

His eyes lit up, “I can have all of them?” He asked.

“As long as you pay for them, I don’t see why not...It might take a bit, though, because we warm them in an oven, so they get kinda crispy.” The employee explained, noticing the glimmer in his eyes.

“All of them, then.” Mikey clarified, adding another bill on the counter.

“Do I know you from somewhere, though?” They asked as they handed him his change, causing Mikey to pause for a brief moment.

“I haven’t ever met you before.” He replied, walking to one of the tables and sitting in the uncomfortably hard seating. It was nearly impossible to take a nap here due to how loud and bright it was, as well as how unbearable some of the smells were...Who honestly authorized it to smell like nacho cheese? Though, he also realized he was in a food court. Slouching down into the chair, he wondered what the rest of his gang had decided to put their minds to that day. He assumed Sanzu had found something involving guns and roped Takeomi into it as well, smirking because he knew that Takeomi had played before. Kokonoi had likely found something involving money, and The Haitani brothers honestly were talking up a storm about Dance Dance Revolution before they even arrived. Mochi and Kakucho were the two members of the group he wasn’t quite too sure about. He made a mental note to ask Kakucho when they boarded the bus again later that day.

“Alright, here are the first few, careful though, because they’re extremely hot.” The employee warned, setting a tray in front of the light-haired man, “I’ll keep them coming.”

Mikey reached forward and grabbed one of them, mentally noting that his hand was burning, though not exactly caring as the gratification of the taiyaki was going to be worth it in half a second. He bit in and leaned back in bliss. He was elated as he continued to eat through the pile of confections, completely losing track of time. He inwardly began to feel that the Russian death metal car ride from hell was worth it, and so was having to deal with Sanzu complaining about everything. And so was-

“Mikey, are you okay?”

He wanted to snap his neck.

Sanzu stared at the fair-haired man, who looked as though he had passed out in his chair, only for him to lean back up with a menacing stare slowly, “I’m fine.” He said coldly, taking another angry bite of the taiyaki.

“O...Oh…” The pink-haired man replied, nodding his head nervously as he backed away, “That’s a lot of taiyaki there.” He pointed towards the ever-growing pile of confections.

“I know. They’re mine.” Mikey responded as he finished the first, licking his lips and picking up another, “Where is everyone else?” He questioned as he bit into the sweet and bitter flavor of matcha.

“I saw them a couple of minutes ago; they’ll probably be here in a minute...Takeomi is smoking.” He informed the other, omitting the absolute ass-kicking he had received.

As if on cue, the group walked into the food court; however, the mood quickly changed as Kokonoi held up his phone, “We need to go, one of Ran’s fangirls posted them on their Instagram; and we need to get out of here,  now .” His eyes narrowing.

“Why are we blaming my fangirl for this? They’re just as much of Rindou’s as mi-OW” Ran once again getting elbowed in the side by his brother.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t name drop both me and yourself, so now you’re  really  more useless than Sanzu!” Rindou scolded him, “And you’re supposed to be older than me!”

“I’m RIGHT here!” Sanzu replied, raising his hands in exasperation.

“Cry me a river Sanzu, oh wait-” Mochi snorted, laughing at his own joke.

Kakucho grinned, “Mochi, that was surprisingly good coming from you.”

“I know, right. I surprise even myself sometimes.” The brawny man beamed.

“I hate all of you.” Sanzu huffed, crossing his arms.

“We hate you too; now let’s get going before we have to shoot our way out of a fucking arcade?” The long-haired blond replied in a haughty tone, motioning for the exit.

“Mikey, get a to-go box,” Kakucho suggested to the blond sitting at the table, eyeing the remaining taiyaki sadly.

“I’ll leave them.”

“Shotgun!” Sanzu yelled as they exited the arcade, Takeomi making eye contact with him and shaking his head.

“There isn’t even a passenger seat. What are the drugs hitting you that hard?” Kokonoi questioned him with a laugh.

“I’m assuming the cops are coming then?” Takeomi asked as he fished the keys to the bus out of his pocket, starting to walk with the group.

“ Oh yeah, Ran and Rindou are Instagram famous; Koko show him.” Mochi snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why is it always...fine.” He attempted to argue as he pulled up the post on his phone, revealing a video with nearly 500 likes and 130 comments.

“Wait, I didn’t see it yet!” Ran yelled as he ran over to Kokonoi, smushing his head in to see, “Wow, I look good… Rindou does, too, of course.”

“Shut the fuck up, you cretaceous period cretin.” Rindou hissed, flipping him off from afar only to have Ran run after him.

“Stop running in the parking lot!” Kakucho yelled, shaking his head, “I swear to god…”

“You have to admit, though, it was a good time.” Mochi stated with a smile, “We should do this again.”

“Alright, everyone, get on the fucking bus, or I’m leaving without you,” Takeomi yelled, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“And who died and made you king?!” Sanzu yelled only to smack his head on the roof while boarding the bus, causing Mikey to snort from a laugh uncharacteristically.

“Wait, did Mikey just laugh?” Kokonoi asked, genuinely amazed.

“I made Mikey laugh!” Sanzu cheered, patting himself on the back.

“Wow, if only we could hurt you more...then maybe we could restore all of his emotions…” Takeomi whispered to himself.

“What was that?” Sanzu questioned, leaning forward.

“No, nope, nothing.” Takeomi lied badly.

“That’s what I thought,” Sanzu replied with a smile, sitting back in his seat, Takeomi groaning and reaching for his pack of cigarettes only to realize there weren’t any left. He sighed heavily, leaning back into the cushion of the driver’s seat and staring up at the tattered ceiling. It was going to be a long drive home, huh.

---x---

In Toyko, the conflict with a group named “Bonten” intensifies...However, they seem to have a soft side too…

It was once again a Wednesday, except this week Sanzu Haruchiyo was on time, and there were no off-topic discussions. Instead, all that was discussed was saving Bonten from the PR nightmare the Haitani brothers had created for the gang. And, of course, the now planned hit on Howie Mandel. However, the damage was done, and the gang’s reputation seemed to go from “dangerous and deadly” to “upcoming idol group.” However, Mikey didn’t seem too troubled by it, though it wasn’t exactly possible to tell what he thought until it was too late.

Takeomi sighed as he once again lit a cigarette, staring off into the distance, “Here’s to another fucking Wednesday.”

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #29 - The One Where Everyone Gets Super Shiny

Our issue opens up with Swerve laying down the Story So Far in the Exposition Dimension.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

If Swerve looks like he’s been tossed through the car wash a few dozen times, it’s because this is where our new colorist comes in! Everyone, please say hello to Joana Lafuente- known for her love of gradients and attention to light sources, this actually isn’t the first time we’ve run into her. Lafuente worked on colors for several issues of The Transformers (2009), Last Stand of the Wreckers #3, and a few issues of MTMTE Season 1. However, she was matching the styles of her co-colorists on a majority of these, so we haven’t seen her style properly until now.

Getting into the story proper, Cyclonus is busying himself with staring out the window at a PNG of space, as he is wont to do, when he hears the tell-tale sound of tires squealing down the hall towards his room. Oh, goodness, whoever could that be?

Nearly forgot about him, didn’t you? Yeah, it’s a little difficult to follow up on things like a character’s recovery from a horrific disease when you’ve got comic event contract obligations to deal with.

After getting tackled by Tailgate, who reminds us all about the time he stuck his dirty little fingers into a dude’s brain meat, Cyclonus takes the little nerd on a walk through the ship.

You’re not going to convince me to reread “Dark Cybertron”. I don’t care how much of a marshmallow you are, it’s not happening.

They’re passed by Megatron and a bunch of crew members carrying that coffin we saw at the end of last issue down the corridor, Tailgate has a moment, and we get a taste of Cyclonus’ distaste for the Autobots as a whole. Tailgate is mildly offended by this, as he gropes his chest in distain, showing off his shiny new Autobot badge- a gift for not dying a terrible, gruesome death.

Good job, Tailgate. Proud of you.

They’re also passed by an absolutely blitzed Jackpot and Mainframe, the former singing Tailgate’s Tyrest-stopping praises as the latter carts him over to the Medibay to deal with the almost alcohol poisoning he’s got going on. Cyclonus remarks that Tailgate was missed, though Tailgate can’t help but wonder if that’s really true.

Y’all like slowburn romance, right? Because these two dumbasses have been roommates for two years, and we’ve just gotten to the point where physical contact can happen without one of them needing to be dying.

Anyway, it’s been a good day for Tailgate so far. Let’s hope it stays that way for the little dude.

...And that’s a series wrap on Tailgate! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

Hopping back in time to Megatron’s trial, things get underway, as Optimus Prime takes a nap in the judge’s bench as Gripper- whose name you don’t need to remember, as he’s not actually important- tells everyone about how brutal the Decepticon Justice Division is, even to Autobots. Which isn’t really supposed to be their deal, given their, y’know, name, but I suppose nobody’s perfect.

Up in the stands, in an… opera box, I guess? Rodimus is watching the proceedings, when Atomizer walks in. Which I guess you can just do in a Cybertronian court case. Sure.

Atomizer, in case you forgot, is the dude who has a bow and arrow, and used to be an interior designer.

Say, didn’t Whirl has a bow and arrow in the last issue when he attacked Megatron? Mighty curious, that.

Rodimus and Atomizer briefly reflect on the DJD, recalling the horror that was Vos- not that Vos, the other one. Rodimus would really just rather this all be over with so the Lost Light can get back to finding the Knights of Cybertron, and it’s at this point that Atomizer breaks out a thing he really ought not have- the count for the vote on whether or not Rodimus should stay on as captain. Rodimus doesn’t want to look at it, because it was supposed to be anonymous for a reason, and tells Atomizer to destroy the list entirely.

Hm, that’s not a terribly determined face there, Rodimus.

Back in the present, specifically in Swerve’s, Groove is threatening to break Streetwise’s arm, as we get the downlow on just what exactly our Legislator buddy’s deal is. Turn’s out, Swerve got one of the things reprogrammed, so that he follows not the Autobot Code, but something else entirely.

Hey, Swerve?

I don’t expect you to know this, because I don’t think you were present when they revealed this information to the readers, but… your new bouncer is made of people. He’s a dude made of other dudes, namely the Circle of Light. There’s a chance that you reprogrammed a sentient being, my good bitch.

Anyway, Swerve’s in a fucking mood because his shoulder hurts, someone’s stealing his shit, and Megatron has joined the narrative. Over at a nearby table, Skids, Nautica, and Riptide take a gander at the tabloids. Trailcutter, who is positively smashed, to the point where he’s just leaking booze out of his face like it’s his job, isn’t terribly interested in that, however.

What an astute observation, Riptide. And people say you’re stupid!

Trailcutter wants to drink some more, because it’s very likely he’s got a problem, but the mention of “Megatron’s super fuel” makes him feel like it’s time to stop hounding Swerve and start performing crimes.

Back during the trial, we get to Starscream’s testimony. He’s wearing his crown. He’s acting like a self-righteous asshole, as he defends Megatron.

Well, “defend” in the technical, legal sense, I suppose.

But really it’s more about him insulting Megatron’s intelligence, strength, and courage, in front of a LOT of people, while also trying to make himself look better in the war crime department. Megatron doesn’t appreciate this very much, if his murder-face is anything to go by.

Megatron lets Ultra Magnus (his defender, if you’ll recall) know that he wants a private word, and court goes into a brief recess.

Back in the present, Nightbeat’s busy looking at a pin-up of Rung’s alt-mode, when someone knocks on his door. That someone is Chromedome, who’s trying to solve the mystery of The Missing Declaration of Love. Not that he says that specifically out loud.

You two were married, why- okay. No point in yelling at this digital copy of a comic book.

Anyway.

So, the whole screaming thing only happened the one time, and everything was back to normal on subsequent plays of Rewind’s message. Nightbeat seems to be leaning towards the depressive isolating getting to Chromedome, which Chromedome responds to by telling him to get the fuck out. Alas, someone’s blocking the door!

YO WHAT THE FUCK-

Back with Trailcutter’s subplot, our drunken friend is in the middle of breaking into the Medibay. Our trio of cool-colored pals watch him from back at the bar, by way of a laptop that looks like it was built the same year I was born.

As Trailcutter attempts to commit a crime, Megatron, Ultra Magnus, and Ratchet pass by, trying to figure out how to handle the whole coffin situation. Trailcutter’s about to punch the locks off a door, and Nautica decides that this is where she’s going to draw the line today, leaving the gaggle of fools to their shenanigans. Then Tailgate glomps Skids, throwing the computer to the ground and breaking it, as Trailcutter finds the door to the Medibay magically open.

If you don’t know what glomping is, there’s a 60% chance that you’re not old enough to vote in the US.

Trailcutter sneaks into the Medibay, we get a reminder that Ambulon is super dead, and Trailcutter commits theft from a food bank. What a guy.

This is the point where security shows up, armed with a great deal of guns, one of which is Megatron himself. Trailcutter, instead of feeling super powerful, actually feels positively awful after consuming Megatron’s rations of “super fuel”. Because he, as an Autobot, doesn’t want to be within 50 yards of Megatron, Trailcutter breaks out the forcefields the moment the guy approaches him. And oh, what a doozy this one is.

Trailcutter’s gotten himself a fancy new trick- this forcefield he’s broken out lasts for a solid half-hour, and he can’t turn it off. I’m sure that won’t bite him in the ass at any point in the near future, no-siree!

Back in the past, Rattrap is commending Starscream on playing the field and getting the public slightly more on his side, but Starscream’s too busy patting himself on the back to really pay attention. He knew damn well that Megatron wouldn’t like what he had to say on the stand, and now things are finally looking up for ol’ Screamer.

Over with Optimus Prime, Slamdance is showing off how the general public is really into this whole “folks being held accountable for their actions” thing.

In the present, Chromedome and Nightbeat seem to have remembered they have alt-modes and are driving down the hall back to Nightbeat’s room- wonder what the speed limit for the Lost Light is?- and discuss just what the hell happened. The current theory is that the Rewind they saw was a Data Ghost- a collection of information so dense, it had a not-quite-physical presence that wasn’t 100% removed when he died.

Which is a little fucked up, but let’s see where this goes.

Nightbeat undoes the 40,000 locks on his door while Chromedome bleeds guilt all over the shag carpet over the fact that he hasn’t been looking for Dominus Ambus like he said he would.

C’mon James, gimme that Chromedominus endgame.

Nightbeat finally opens the door to find a small problem.

Hm. That’s… not normal.

Over in the Medibay, Trailcutter’s bubble has burst, allowing Megatron to slap him in the back of the head. This head-slapping induces his FIM chip permanently, making it so that he can never get drunk again.

Weird party trick, Megatron. Kinda shitty, really.

Megatron then gives Trailcutter the job of director of security, because he needs direction in his life. Trailcutter just sort of takes what he’s given, because I suppose you can’t really argue with a guy who can literally slap you sober, and also threatens to destroy you if you fuck up even once. Nice, Megs. Nice.

MEGATRON THAT’S BEEN SITTING LIKE THAT FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR YOU FUCKING WET NOODLE

So, since there’s mystery juice all over the floor and no one’s died, Megatron assumes that the coffin ought to be fine to crack open.

Please note that Megatron is not a medical professional, and his views are now peer reviewed by medical professionals. Megatron is in no way endorsed by the WHO.

Anyway, Rodimus is in there.

Pretty fucked up.

Back in the past, recess is over, and Ultra Magnus comes bearing bad news- Megatron wants to change his plea to “innocent.” This gets about the reaction one would expect from just about anyone.

Well, except Rodimus, who’s too busy reading that list that he wanted destroyed. He’s very sad about it.

I know, what a bummer!

[amysteriousmessenger]

YOUR WRITING IS BEAUTIFUUULLL, i'm really happy that you're taking request so can i ask for prompt 8 'let's play spin the bottle' with Yoosung? nsfw pls 👀👀💞

I hope this is okay!! The rules of spin the bottle change from country to country, so from where I’m from it’s a mix of spin the bottle and truth or dare!! I hope you don’t mind me combining the two!! <3 TW: alcohol mention!

THIS GOT VERY LONG IM SORRY  *the song Zen strips to is Pony by Ginuwine

���Let’s play Spin the Bottle!’ Yoosung Kim x Reader Headcanons (NSFW mention)

It would be at a weekend evening gathering consisting of the RFA members, just a casual Friday evening meet up in order to see everyone and have fun together. It was V’s house and since people were drinking, they would be free to stay the night if they didn’t want to travel home, or Jumin would arrange cars to take people home if they didn’t want to stay over. Obviously, Yoosung chose the latter and since you were visiting him at his University dorm, you were going to leave with him.

There was a little bit of light music in the background, since everyone had a very spread taste, the argument settled with just everyone voting on a particular decade of music and then shuffling a playlist of those songs. It worked, especially when the alcohol and food started kicking in as no one really paid any mind to it. Seven didn’t drink, but was more than content to be drunk off the atmosphere and the idea of a cooked meal.

After everyone was a little tipsy, Seven decided to be evil and suggest some party games. Zen was up for it. V seemed hesitant, but entertained. Yoosung thought some games would be fun, since he’s a child at heart, but Jumin and Jaehee needed a little more convincing. When Seven suggested Spin the Bottle, he had to explain the rules to Jumin, who in turn said that there should be a non-disclosure contract involved in such a game.

ANYWAY

You hadn’t played spin the bottle in a while, and you trusted these guys to not be assholes about the game. Everyone sat around the bottle (which was one of Zen’s empty beer bottles), which was easier said than done since Jumin didn’t want to sit on the floor, and you span first. It landed on Jaehee, she chose truth and you asked her if she had anyone she was romantically interested in. She muttered out a very tentative and flustered ‘y-yes’ and then quickly shut down Yoosung and Seven when they tried to press her for more information since it was only one question allowed. 

Jaehee spun the bottle and it landed on V, who chose dare and then had to bring out Jumin’s baby photos, much to the latter’s chagrin. V’s spin landed on Zen who chose dare, being the feisty one he is, but V couldn’t think of anything so forfeited his dare to Seven who told Zen to finish his drink, stand in the centre of the room and do a strip for thirty seconds to the song of Seven’s choice*. Needless to say, Zen fucking Went for it. He only ended up taking his shirt off, but he did throw it at Jumin. 

Zen spun the bottle and it landed on Jumin, who also chose dare. Zen dared him to not talk about his ‘furball’ for the rest of the night and Jumin begrudgingly agreed, since those were the confines of the game. Jumin’s spin landed on Seven, who also obviously chose dare. Jumin couldn’t think of anything except for ‘I dare you to leave Elizabeth the 3rd alone, you cat abuser.’ and seven agreed, but crossed his fingers behind his back so it didn’t really count. 

Finally, Seven’s spin landed on Yoosung, who also wanted to seem brave in front of you and chose dare. Big mistake. Especially since it was Seven and there was an immediate, evil, shit-eating grin that sprawled across the redhead’s face.  ‘I dare you to kiss ____. A great big one, on the mouth. You’re together now, right? No need to be embarrassed then.’ 

Yoosung’s face was BURNING. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks from where you were sat next to him. He tried to stutter out a response that the dare wasn’t fair on you because you might not want to do it in front of everyone, and Zen also vouched for your honour. Truth be told, you didn’t mind much. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, but Yoosung was your boyfriend and you were waiting ever so patiently for your first kiss, but he hadn’t seemed to work up the courage yet. 

You turned, grabbed his warm cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. A big one, just as God 707 demanded. You actually heard Seven clapping and cheering in the background, and a couple of happy laughs from Zen and V. When you pulled away, Yoosung was a giddy loss for words. 

He spent the rest of the night working himself up over how warm and soft your lips were against his. It was his first kiss and oh god he just couldn’t stop blushing. Both Zen and Seven patted him on the back later on and told him Well Done, even though he didn’t really do anything.

When the party was wrapping up, the two of you got into the car that Jumin arranged to take you back to Yoosung’s dorm. You thanked everyone for the wonderful evening and V for his hospitality. Luckily, the driver had already put the car’s divider up so you and Yoosung had some privacy. 

‘A-ah, _____. About the kiss, you know you didn’t have to do it if you didn’t want to. I would have told Seven to quit it-’  - ‘Of course, I wanted to. Look, I’ll do it again!’ You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into another kiss, and another, and another. It was a little uncomfortable in the small car space, but each kiss felt more intense, hungrier as the moments went on. You didn’t even realise you had been making out the entire way back until the car pulled to a stop and the door opened to let you out. You had hoped that the driver couldn’t hear your breathy moans and whimpers, but he definitely saw your slightly puffed red lips.

- NSFW mentions from here on out - 

Yoosung is still a little nervous about kissing you, so he’ll let you take the lead when you get back to his dorm and will respond in whatever way you want him to. You keep kissing as you get into his room, you move his hands to your waist so he can hold you tighter and you slide your hands up his chest. 

He’s not had literally any romantic or sexual interaction before, so it’s not long until Yoosung gets a very flustered semi-erection. He breaks off the kiss and very quickly mutters that he should go to the bathroom before things go too far too soon and that his ‘stupid body’ needs to be considerate of your feelings. 

You needed to assure him that it was okay, and give him big puppy dog eyes and ask him if he needed any help with his ‘problem’. Yoosung would make absolutely certain that you’re comfortable with what’s happening, almost to the point where you have to say shut up and let me do this. And even then, he’s embarrassed that he got into this state. 

You don’t do too much, you just lightly stroke him through his jeans and move on to heavier palming motions when he starts to whimper into your mouth. It’s his first time having someone do it for him, so he cums pretty quickly. 

He’s embarrassed to have finished inside his trousers as such a grand age, but he’s so happy and flustered that you want to do such things with him. He’s shy, but he’ll try harder in future to take the lead!

[murdereraisuha]

FINAL part of chapter 5!!!

WElcome to my liveblog it is time to SCREAM

Spoilers for episodes 68-75! Warning: Some caps and swearing. Also, it’s very long since I’m not dividing it up into different posts this time.

Alright, just started episode 68, why is it playing the sad music. Oh Vil’s hurt.

Epel wants to be the center!!! :D

Okay but Vil’s saying he’s gonna be okay and htere’s no need to worry. BRO just let Epel do stuff. OH WAIT This is his chance to stand on the stage until the very end! VILLLLLLLLLLLL 

Why are the other people seriously acting like everything’s normal. I know they didn’t know about the whole overblot fight but still, did NO ONE realize that they physically could not get into the stadium???

ALRIGHT IT’S SHOWTIME

LOOK AT THEM GO!!! WIAT THE SONG’S STIll ehiaTELTy

JAMIL JMAIL JAMIL JAMIL JAMIL JAMIL AJMILA JAMIL JAMIL JAMIL AJMILA JAJF KAKM<AIFLHGiteT(hy HE’S DACNIGN HEOSI DANCING I LOVE HIM OMG THE CHIBI DANCING IS SO CUTE 

FULL SONG REVEAL BOYS YEAAAAAAAAA OH THIS SHIT’S FIRE

THE AUDIENCE MEMBERS ARE A MOOD

OH shit Vil just collapsed. But we did it!!

Onto episod 70! Oh the rest of the Heartslabyul boys are here

and THEM.

OMG what would chapter 5 turn out like if Floyd was in the mood for dancing when the auditions were happening and he got on the team? hglksglksd HE’S GOING TO TRY OUT NEXT YEAR?!?!

GSHSSGhsGHSK FLoyd this is why you were my favorite character at first sight

Alright, Savanaclaw boys are here now. Does it mean something that they appeared after Octavinelle rather than going in chapter order?

Ohhhh, it’s cause he knows what’s up

Sebek sounds a bit too quiet? Anyway, time for YA HOOOOOOOOOOOO

Something about this grin really disturbs me.

Oh no yahoo. Right to the voting on who wins.

Voting done. WHy is this forboding music playing. alright who wins?? 

1st and 2nd place 1 vote apart????? THE WINNER IS... EPISODE CHANGE AND DRUM ROLL.... ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY 

EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FUKC BRO RHFHHRT Excuse me???? STOP SHOWING THESE SWAVRES I DON’T CARE THEIS DON’T JSUT PLAY YAHOO OVE HTE BOYS CRYING I HATE THIS NEIGE YOU MADE KALIM AND EPEL CYR 

VIL’S CRYING 

WAIT WOOK. ROOKL. WAHT THE FUKC ROOK HE VOTED FOR ROYAL SWROD ACADMEY? BRO? EXCUSE ME

GEEZ ACE THAT IS SOME YELLING BUT I FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME WAY

ALRIGHT FRENCH BOY SQUARE UP IT’S TIME TO BEAT YOU UP IN A WALMART PARKING LOT LET’S GO

OKAy yeah maybe Vil doesn’t believe inh imself

did you have to make the team lose like this though to make vil beautiful

ah shit vil’s crying aGIN FUCK OFF NEIGE

OKAY I TAKE THAT BACK NEIGE YOU CAN STAY YOU ARE A SWEET BOY PLEASE BECOME FRIEND WITH VIL

FELLAS,

huh? EH? 

EVEN ROOK’S SURPRISED HE FOUND OUT. HOLY SHIT WHAT ROOK’S A NEIGE STAN??? NEIGE IS SURPRISED R-SAN IS A BOY SDHFLKDGKLSDGK

THE PHOTO ALBUM??!?!?!!?!? HOLY SHIT WE ALL ASUSMED IT WAS HIS STALKING VICTIMS BUT IT WAS ALL PICTURES OF NEIGE??!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING I THOUGHT AZUL WAS THE MOST RELATABLE TO STANS FOR SIMPING OVER JAMIL BUT ROOK IS STRAIGHT UP DOING THE EQUIVALENT OF LOADING THOUSANDS OF PHOTOS OF A CHARACTER INTO YOUR PHONE TO TRY AND PULL THEM IN A GACHA

HDSFGDLHKG KALIM’S JUST CONGRATULATING ROOK

god this poor man’s privacy and life are crumbling to pieces around him

“finally, I have the upper hand over this creepy hat man”

Is he boutta do his own take on Azul’s outburst after Leona dusted his contracts?

He’s crying...

NEIGE FANCLUB “Eternal Snow’ NUMBER 0000002 ROOK HUNT?!?!??!??! HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE IS A STAN

the disappointment on his face glkglshgls

F E L L A S ,

Oh Neige wants to sing together! AWwww friendship!!! :D

Oh. Welp. Seems the audience might be thinking of another kind of ‘ship. HAFDLHKFDHALK THE AUDIENCE IS CHEERING 

OH MY GOD THEY’RE ACTUALLY SINGING YA HOO

ACE’S FACE SHGLHKSGLKSDGLK DEUCE IS SO HAPPY THOUGH HSDGKSGHKDG THEY’RE SO CUTE

JAMIL SOUDNS SO DEFEATED HE’S SINGING SO SOFTLY BUT KALIM IS SO ENTHUSIATIC OH MY GOD I LOVE HTEM SO MUCH

LOOK AT THEM I LOVE THEM!!!!!

ROOK HAHAHAHAAHA

VIL’S SMILING NOW! YES! BE HAPPY! BE FRIENDS! Wait hold what what if the Pomefiore involvement/character developement in chapter 6 involves Neige too?? Please I really want to see Neige and Vil become friends

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA THERE IT IS!

OH shit Vil yelling lmao

Oh crowley’s here. 

IS THIS THE HEADMASTER OF ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY???? HWY DOES HIS HAT LOOK LIKE A SLEEPING CAP HDGKHLKSDghldlgdKLGKHL WHY IS THAT THE FIRST THING I THINK OF NOOOO I CAN’T TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY NOW

Ambrose the 63rd? Welp, that’s a name to research for later.

oh this guy’s a bit of an asshole isn’t he

Oh, this guy sensed the magic of the overblot fight/Malleus. Crowley is pretty good at deflecting suspicion.

*detective thinking pose*

OMG YEAH GRIM Honestly I keep getting Ya Hoo stuck in my head too and I hate it so much.

Oh? Time for another meeting with Mickey! Wassup you weird little mouse.

We’re taking a picture of him!

Awwww he did a little pose for us! :D

It seems like the barrier/distance between us and Mickey weakens with each meeting. The time they can meet is increasing too.

This is something like “maybe sometime we will be able to watch a movie together”. Can’t wait to see people’s takes and theories on all this new information and concerning lines of dialogue.

Are we running somewhere? Oh, Grim’s missing?!?! OH SHIT WHAT JSUT HAPPENED 

A VISION OF A CARRIAGE AND OVERBLOT GRIM!!!!

WE’RE BACK TO TALKING WITH MICKEY???? HWat Okay we know Grim isn’t here but do we still know he not anywhere in the house? Is something funky going on with time? YEAH MICKEY JUST ADVISED US TO GO SEARCH FOR GRIM HE WOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT IF WE JUST RETURNED FROM SERACHING

IS THE TIME LOOP THEORY CORRECT? WHAT IS GOING ON? WE JUST RAN BACK TO THE STAGE.

GRIM OH WHAT THE FUCK THAT VOICE THOSE SOUDN 

WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT THE FUKC I FEEL LIKE THIS JSUT RUTNED INTO A HOORROR GAME WHAT THE FUCVK THWAT THE FUCFK THAT CRUNCKING SOUND HWAT HTE DEEP SVOice HGelihtgliehteiothi hIHTW WAHT THE FUCK I AM SCARREdD

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaAAAAA HE”S ATTAKCING US?!?! DID WE JUST BALCK OUT?

IT JUST TRANSITIONED TO IDIA’S ROOM

His presentation went well BUT WHAT ABOUT GRIM?? DON”T JUST LEAVE US ON A CLIFFHANGER

Idia got an internship invite? Multiple invites? From “that Olympus company”? Idia wants Ortho to put them all in the trash...

IT JUST ENDS THERE!!!!

Welp. So, no more Scarabia stuff. :( I was really hoping for that. Nah, we get Rook stuff then we die and then Idia is depressed. Alright whatever it’s time to wait a bit and organize my thoughts before writing a whole reflection on this part, see ya. Hope you had fun reading this!

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 8: Regret

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3500

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Thirty one hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Shall we even pretend there is a posting schedule at this point? Oh well, another chapter has arrived. This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Drake popped his headphones in, trying not to wake up Bridget as he pulled open a video on his new phone. He was also supposed to be sleeping, at least theoretically. It’s why Riley had gone into the bathroom a couple of hours ago - so that he could turn off the lights and it would be relatively quiet. If he slept now, after all, he would be able to drive through the night. But he’d been wide awake for the past three hours, and at this point, he wasn’t even sure if attempting to sleep was worth it. So he just laid in the dark, his daughter sleeping peacefully next to him. Thank god she wasn’t doing that whole sleep reversal thing she’d been doing last month, where she’d been waking up maybe a dozen times over night. Her being a good sleeper was maybe the one saving grace here.

Today had just been stomach churning since he’d left to go track down a car and supplies. He hadn’t known whether to be grateful or freaked out when he’d returned to the hotel this afternoon, and Riley had a list of things they needed to do typed up on her phone. While he was glad she no longer seemed like she was about to sink into a pit of panic, seeing her planning with this much intensity was just… strange. He couldn’t think of a time she had ever made such a detailed list. She always just adapted to the situation at hand. She never tried to shape the situation herself.

But between what she’d found in her “fugitive research,” and what Hana had told them when she called after the hearing, they were starting to come up with a plan. Hana had told them that Rashad was going to be sworn in as regent tomorrow and that Olivia was technically “investigating” their location at the moment. That as soon as Rashad took on the powers of king-regent, Olivia was going to disclose that Bertrand and Maxwell hadn’t “found” them at Lythikos, so she’d sent Hana to “check” that they hadn’t returned to Valtoria, but that she hadn’t found them there either. They were all repeatedly calling their old phone numbers as well, hoping to make the story believable when Rashad undoubtedly opened an investigation into their disappearance with Bridget.

But all this meant that arrest warrants could be issued as soon as tomorrow morning. The hearing wouldn’t take long, and no one was sure if Rashad would see things as a sign of an attack on all three of them, or if he would correctly deduce that they had made a run for it and willingly left the country with Bridget. Either way, their financial and phone records were likely to be subject to review. And that meant they needed to not be anywhere near Ioannina by the time of the hearing.

The issue was, they wanted to withdraw more cash before the investigation froze their accounts. This meant using the same ATM they’d been using one more time, at 12:01 am when it was a new day and they could withdraw their daily max again without giving anyone a new location to investigate. Then, it would be time to get in the newly-purchased hatchback and drive on to Xanthi, the city they’d chosen as their next stop. Small enough that no one would predict it as their destination, big enough that Riley, a woman of East Asian heritage who only spoke English with a still-persistent New York accent wouldn’t be immediately noticeable. Drake liked that it was past Thessaloniki as well. No one would guess they drove hours further into Greece than a city with an American consulate.

So, in preparation for that drive, Drake needed to be sleeping. Even after several years out of Manhattan, Riley still hated driving, and in all honesty, the thought of her behind the wheel in a country where she couldn’t read the road signs was not reassuring to Drake in the slightest. He wanted to be the one solely responsible for the driving. But that meant he should be napping now. But how was he supposed to sleep at a time like this?

In the past day or so, he’d gone from a very stable existence to literally plotting how to hide out from law enforcement. He’d embezzled money and bribed a used car salesman to look the other way and not require him to register the car for official Greek or Cordonian papers. He’d left the only home he’d ever known, not knowing if he’d ever get to go back. How could anyone sleep after a day like that?

So instead of sleeping, he was watching news coverage of Liam’s speech that he’d given only a few hours earlier. Speculation was rampant as to both why the vote of no confidence was called and as to who the acting regent would be. Who his daughter’s regent would be. Because for the past few hours, the 10 month old sleeping on the mattress next to him had technically been the Queen-Regent of Cordonia.

It was a strange feeling, knowing that going forward, Bridget would be listed as Queen-Regent Bridget in history books, her rule starting today. Liam’s request had kind of always seemed like simple bookkeeping before. Although Liam told the press that Bridget would remain next in line for the throne even if he had children of his own, Drake had always kind of assumed they would readdress the whole situation when Liam actually got married. It had seemed highly likely to him that Bridget would end up just being a temporary placeholder, someone needed to convey stability of the Crown until Liam had a kid or two of his own. And even if she had remained next in line for the throne, Drake never really thought he’d see her take on the title. She was only supposed to rise to that position after Liam’s death.

It was probably something he should have put more thought into, to be honest. But he hadn’t, at least not anywhere near enough. And now there was no great way to undo it. She was the queen-regent now. Abdication for her, as a minor with the title, would be a nightmare at this point. Even if her title was just through the Conclave, the steps that they would have to take to change things now, the support they would need from the assholes who just voted against them and Liam, well… Drake wasn’t counting on that happening any time soon.

He opened up the CBC app to watch another site’s coverage of Liam’s speech, but his phone started buzzing in his hand. The number flashing across the screen had a Cordonian country code, but it wasn’t Olivia or Hana’s burner numbers, which they’d already added to their contact list. This had to be either Liam or Maxwell on a new number. Taking a deep breath, he popped out the headphones and swiped to accept the call.

“Hello?”

There was a brief pause before Liam’s voice came through the speaker. “Hello, Drake.”

Drake didn’t know what to say. It was his turn to speak, but what do you say to someone you’ve known almost your entire life when they lost everything? When you’d let them down? After too many seconds, he finally managed, “So, you… uh, got our new numbers?”

“Yes. Hana and Olivia provided me with them.”

“Right. Well… good. You, uh… you should have our numbers.” Drake ran his hand over his face. He couldn’t be more awkward about this if he tried.

“Indeed,” said Liam, after a beat, “So, how are you all doing?”

“We’re okay, I guess. How are you?”

The pause was longer this time. “It’s been a long couple of days, Drake.”

The weight of that sentence settled over Drake, the guilt he already carried multiplying in that moment. “I’m so sorry, Liam.”

All Liam gave in response was a little hum of acknowledgement, so Drake kept speaking, trying to find some words that would make this better, that would make Liam see how sorry he was.

“We just couldn’t wait around, you know? We didn’t know how things were going to go down, and when Barthelemy started talking about taking Bridget, we couldn’t just risk that, and so we had to do something, right? And I know this leaves you in a tricky spot, but you’ve gotta know, I wish… I don’t know, that we weren’t doing this to you, I guess? But… it’s just fucked up all around, isn’t it?” Drake knew he was rambling, that he'd basically spewed out a whole bunch of garbage, but he just didn’t know what else to do.

“What do you want me to say, Drake? You’re right; the decisions you and Riley made have made things much more complicated for me. Are you looking for me to say that I don’t blame you? That I support this course of action?”

“What else were we supposed to do?” Drake asked. He could hear his voice raising slightly, and he glanced down, checking that he hadn’t woken Bridget, but she was still passed out.

“I told you back when you were trying to have a child that if it ever became too much, to inform me, and we would reserve the proclamation.”

“Are you really trying to tell me that in the middle of everything that was happening yesterday, it would have been a good time to pull you aside and ask to undo all that shit?”

Liam let out a sigh before he answered, “It seems like that would have been preferable to you deciding to commit treason.”

Drake slammed his eyes shut, trying to keep his temper in check. Liam was already dealing with a lot, and he didn’t want to make things worse, but his words were so frustrating right now. “We didn’t even know if you would have the power to undo any of it after that vote.”

“You could have at least waited until we knew the results of that initial hearing. At that point-”

“What if the justice had decided you had no power last night instead of today?” Drake interrupted. He saw Riley coming out of the bathroom and back into their room. She obviously must have heard him on the phone. He just shook his head, trying to reassure her as he kept talking to Liam. “That’s a big fucking gamble to ask of us, Liam.”

“Fine, then some middle-ground or compromise still would have probably been better. You have to know how ill-conceived this scheme you’ve agreed to is, Drake.”

“What would you suggest, then? Sitting around, just waiting to see if we got to keep our kid?”

“Of course not. But if you get arrested and extradited back here, you will absolutely lose custody of your daughter. I would urge you to consider that fact. Additionally, Rashad is not going to be interested in becoming some sort of surrogate parent to Bridget over the next few months.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? That the man you have lined up as my kid’s regent has no interest in caring for her?” Riley mouthed “What?” at him from across the room, but Drake just waved his hand and shook his head again. He’d have to fill her in later.

“My point, Drake, is that Rashad would likely be very amenable to you and Riley staying with Bridget in the role as her caretakers and-”

“Stop. I’m not going to listen to that shit, okay? You know that’s not the same. You fucking know it, Liam.”

There was a rough sigh before Liam spoke again. “Fair enough. But you have to understand that you have put me in an awful position. And I’m just trying to find a way to minimize the damage caused by your selfishness here.”

“How is looking out for my wife and kid selfish?” Bridget squirmed slightly next to him as his voice climbed louder yet again. Riley must have noticed, because she scurried over and tucked her against her chest, muttering soothing words against the top of her head, trying to keep her from waking up.

“Did you think about how fleeing the country would impact anyone? Your citizens in Valtoria who no longer have a regional leader? The people of Cordonia who no longer have an heir to the throne? Your friends who have advocated for you and your family time and time again? No. You just left. You only thought of yourselves. That is the dictionary definition of selfish, Drake.”

“I’m sorry, but my family comes first. This isn’t fucking up for debate.”

“Well, some of us don’t have that luxury.”

Both Drake and Liam were silent for several seconds. Drake took a shaky breath, trying to get his emotions back under control. “Liam. I’m sorry. I really am. I never wanted to do this to you, and I know you are left cleaning up the pieces here, but I am not going to come back just for Bridget to get trapped inside the country and possibly taken from us.”

“Drake, don’t be so-”

“She’s queen-regent now, so no way we don’t get stopped at the border if we came back and tried to leave again, right? In fact, I bet we wouldn’t be allowed outside the palace with her, and that’s if we’re allowed to be alone with her at all-”

“Now you’re just being dramatic-”

“Am I? Because to me, it feels like you want me to come back and hang my hat on the hopes that Rashad needs a couple of nannies. I get the risks we are taking here. But at least we have a shot of staying together as a family this way.”

“Look, I understand that this is upsetting and frustrating. I’m upset and frustrated, too. All I want is to try and create a united front here. If we are fractured and divided, it is worse for everyone in the long run. We all want what’s best for Bridget.”

“You aren’t part of any ‘we’ here. She’s not your kid. You don’t get a say.”

The silence on the other end of the line was awful. Riley climbed onto the bed and leaned up against the headboard. One arm still held Bridget tight to her chest, but her free hand snaked behind him and rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades. It just did little to calm him. He didn’t know if more of his anger was directed at Liam, for presuming he had any say here, or at himself, for getting defensive when he was the one who had hurt Liam and put him in this position.

“I have never interfered in any parenting decisions you or Riley have made with regards to Bridget. In fact, I have given you both an unprecedented amount of freedom and control, knowing that it was an unusual situation. But it seems to me like we have nothing further to say to each other at the moment. You are unwilling to discuss the bigger picture here.”

“Liam, don’t-” Drake started, but Liam just kept talking.

“I understand why you’ve taken this course of action. But it is apparent that your priorities are only your daughter, whereas I need to focus on Cordonia as a whole. So, I think at this point we both need to just devote ourselves to those tasks and not worry about each other.”

It was a dismissal. A line in the sand. Whatever inner circle Liam had, Drake was no longer a part of it. He let out a sigh and swallowed roughly. “I am sorry, Liam. I just don’t know what you expect me to do here.”

“I don’t expect anything of you, Drake. You should just do what you feel is best for your family, and I will do what’s needed for our country.”

“Come on, it doesn’t have to be this way. I still want to help-”

“No offense, but a couple of fugitives are not likely to be a great resource to me at this point. This isn’t a punishment, Drake; it’s just the reality. We’ve both made the choices we needed to make, and now we both need to deal with the consequences. I need to remain focused on campaigning to regain my title, and I’m not going to have the time or energy to devote to aiding your run.”

“I’m not asking for your help, dammit. I just want-”

“What do you want, Drake? You don’t get to have this both ways.”

“I want… I want us still to be friends.”

He heard a heavy sigh before Liam spoke again. “Of course we are still friends, Drake. We just are headed in separate directions at this time, it would seem. You now have this number, though. You can reach me if you need to, and I will do the same.”

“Liam, I-”

“I wish you and your family the best; I really do. And if you change your mind, you can come find us in Lythikos.”

Drake closed his eyes. There was no salvaging this. Liam was boxing him out and closing the door. He was pretty sure having Liam screaming at him would have stung less. “Alright, I get it. Good luck with everything, okay?”

“Same to you. I really hope you don’t regret your decisions here and that you all can remain safe.” And with that, Liam ended the call.

Drake placed his phone on the bed and leaned forward, dropping his head into both of his hands. He swallowed several times, trying to break up the lump in his throat. He was very aware that although Riley seemed to be in a better spot than she was the day before, watching him cry over Liam was not going to instill much confidence. No need to make things more unsettled.

After a few moments, he took a deep breath and sat back up. Riley was staring at him, head cocked and eyes full of worry. He just shrugged and shook his head. There wasn’t much to say, really.

“Here,” Riley said, shifting forward and passing Bridget to him.

“I don’t want to wake her,” he muttered, but Riley continued, sliding Bridget into his arms before leaning against his shoulder, her hand slipping along his neck and her fingers threading through his hair.

“She’ll fall asleep in the car,” she said. Drake watched as his daughter blinked up at him, her face scrunched up like she was going to start screaming, but she relaxed and started to drift back to sleep when he pulled her against his chest and tucked his head on top of hers.

He just held her for maybe a minute, not saying anything. Riley was quiet as well, her fingers continuing to trace little patterns across the base of his scalp. Eventually, she tilted her head against his shoulder and whispered, “Do you want to talk about it or not?”

“No,” he breathed out, “not… not now.”

He felt her nodding, and her other hand settled on his knee. “Okay. Thank you, by the way.”

“Walker, it’s-”

“You don’t need to say it’s nothing. And I know you don’t want to talk about it now. So just… thank you.”

Neither of them said anything for a long while. They just sat there, trying to brace themselves for the reality of the next 24 hours. They would officially be under investigation and likely be charged with kidnapping of the queen-regent. This was the point of no return, far more than any decisions they’d made up until this point.

Oddly enough, Drake felt more confident in their plan than he had even before. As upsetting as his talk with Liam was, it had somehow helped him see why Riley was so reluctant to rely on anyone outside their family. Something about hearing Liam discuss the risks they would be facing in Cordonia as if they were nothing. As if living under the same roof as Bridget should be enough. As if they had time to wait for things to unfold. Well, it made it very clear that they saw what could be compromised and what couldn’t very differently.  

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but eventually Riley sat up next to him. “Did you get any sleep at all?” she asked as he turned his head to look at her.

“No, not really.”

“Well, we better get going then so we can get some coffee before we hit the road.” And with that she slid off the bed and started gathering their few bags of belongings.

She was right. It was time to move on. So he gently clicked Bridget into her new car seat and did one last scan of the room, making sure they weren’t leaving anything they needed behind.

“You ready?” Riley asked.

“Yeah, Riley. Let’s go.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr​

[whydoiwrite]

Do ya have opinions on players n masks

I have an opinion on everything under the sun and I spend most of my waking hours trying to stifle those opinions.

I’m sure you’re asking what that opinion is, and it is that they should wear masks all the damn time unless they are by themselves in their homes. That includes Kyle. That includes the GOAT herself and all their other teammates who have come for a visit. I wouldn’t let my newborn around people period at this point in time, even with a negative COVID test because we all know 8 days later, that can actually end up positive, but I certainly wouldn’t allow it maskless. Vaccinated or not.

I get it’s Florida and they’re outside and the mask mandate (what do you call it when it’s the opposite of a mandate?) issued by the governor none of them voted for stipulates that masks aren’t required outside. I get they’re tested all they damn time and don’t have it. I get Alex and Charlie are immune for at least another few months. Hell, the adults all may have the vaccinations because it’s Florida, after all. But none of that’s the point.

Every person we see not wearing a mask normalizes not wearing a mask. I don’t get why it’s so fucking hard to just keep the damn thing on til July-ish when we should have a better handle on it if more people start getting vaccinated in May. I got out of the car today and realized I didn’t have my mask on. Now, I don’t have to. Because Texas (which is currently engaged in a game of Hold My Beer with Florida). And because I was going to be hiking outside in the fucking woods not on a track with a bunch of people and I’m vaccinated. 25% of why I went right back to get it was because I don’t want anyone to see me and think I’m a Republican, but 75% of that is because I want people to fucking realize that masks should be worn outdoors and that they can engage in physical activity masked and not die. And I want their kids to ask them difficult questions like “Mommy, why is that person wearing a mask outside? I thought you said outside air was safe.” Just one week of seeing people without masks makes me, the person who talks shit to every maskless person I pass, forget about it momentarily. It’s so easy to return to baseline. I was told, multiple times, in Florida that I could take my mask off. Encouraged to be normal. I don’t even need the damn thing. The most resent research is showing that the vaccine is more effective than scientists thought it would be 28 days post-second dose. But I’m not going to be the asshole not wearing a mask even if I am literally the only person laying out by the pool in a mask. I know the set up they have in Orlando for national team camps is perfect, but I have to wonder if part of the decision to keep holding it there during a pandemic is because everyone not named Becky or Tierna wants to walk around the grounds maskless. It’s becoming this thing where instead of doing the what’s right, people are doing what’s most comfortable, instead of following the science, they’re following ill-informed state laws, instead of strictly adhering to CDC guidlelines, they’re like “what can I get away with.”

People are getting too comfortable going maskless around friends and family. I don’t know if we’ve forgotten about the half million+ people who have died in this country alone, the long-term effects of the virus, or we just don’t care unless we’ve been personally, negatively impacted, but it sets me off. And I’d say do as you please except doing as you please impacts others. And when there’s a newborn involved, fuck that.

Now I’m going to eat dinner and write some sohara fluff real quick because I’m all fired up and I don’t want to be fired up.

[spidercakes]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Peter is underage, mentions of abusive relationships.

*

Its not like class is boring, its not exactly, its just that Peter keeps sending him pictures and Tony has a small attention span, okay? He can be the bigger man and admit that he’s got less of an attention span than a very stupid goat and he doesn’t even like pastel pink but he very much likes the idea of Peter using those pretty pink cuffs on him. Rhodey, maybe because he senses Tony’s distraction, looks over at his phone and squints, giving Tony a funny look. Tony shrugs because he’s not about to be repentant about the stuff he’s into. Rhodey rolls his eyes at him and that’s rude, hurtful even.

He’s quickly distracted by another picture and where is all of this coming from? Okay, so like, Tony isn’t complaining exactly but also he wouldn’t have taken Peter for they type to want to gag people. He didn't take himself for someone who wanted to be gagged. Not that he’s complaining. Rhodey looks over again and this time he gets an even more what the fuck look and Tony rolls his eyes. “You don’t have a right to say shit after Camilla!” Tony hisses and Rhodey sinks in his seat.

“It was one time,” he mumbles.

“Bullshit, we both know that’s not true so get that look off your face,” Tony tells him.

Carol half turns in her seat, “tell me what weird shit Rhodey was into that’s less weird than the weird shit you’re into,” she says. “Vanko makes me want to die.”

Vanko makes everyone want to die but Tony doesn’t says that. “Tell me what’s more normal, cuffs and gags or pretending to be dead turning sex,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

The look on Carol’s face is so worth outting Rhodey like that and he doesn’t even care that Rhodey kicks him under their shared table. “Bro what the fuck? Are you a Brooklyn Nine Nine skit? Obviously Tony is more normal than you, you fucking freak,” she tells him.

“It was one time and and Tony is the one being tied up,” he says like that matters.

Carol squints, “the fuck is the implication here? That omegas tying up alphas is somehow less normal than fake corpse fucking? Because its so not and also what’s the problem if Tony’s into it?” she asks.

Rhodey rolls his eyes, “you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbles and Carol snorts.

“Yeah, I don’t get weird macho alpha attitude. I don’t see why you guys need to think you should be like that and-” her words are cut off by Vanko.

“Something to share with the class, Danvers?” he asks and Carol, because she has just as little shame as Tony, whips around.

“Votes, what’s weirder- an omega tying an alpha up or pretending to be dead durning sex?” she asks and the class collectively makes a disgusted noise. “There you have it Rhodes, you’re wrong according to everyone in this room.”

“Bro what the fuck?” someone says from the front of the room and Tony has never talked to him before but he looks damn confused.

“It was one time!” Rhodey says, “don’t act like y’all have never done it.”

Everyone, but especially Vanko, looks confused. “That is perhaps the boldest claim I have every had anyone make in this classroom and I once had a student tell me the earth was flat. What, pray tell, led to this being brought up in theoretical physics?”

“Oh, this class makes me want to kill myself so I was sexting my boyfriend,” Tony says, absolutely shameless. Carol lets out a sharp snort and starts laughing and Tony grins while the rest of the class dissolves into giggles too, though slightly uncomfortable.

*

Tony knows he’s not really any good at this and he’s like ninety percent sure May hates him. Not that he hasn’t given her good reason to, but still. So he takes a deep breath and knocks on her door hoping she doesn’t immediately kick him out or something. When she answers the door she mostly looks annoyed and confused, which is better than outright pissed so he figures he’ll take it. “Peter isn’t home,” she says like he wouldn’t know that.

“Yeah, he’s at school um. I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he says awkwardly. God, he hates this. He should have just bypassed this stupid step and went straight to Peter because he’s the one who’s opinion matters anyway.

May squints at him like maybe she thinks he’s stupid or something and he will give her that, he’s not smart for a genius. Not when it comes to people anyway, or at least not this kind of thing. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?” she asks, clearly baffled.

He doesn’t know if he should be offended or not or... well, he doesn’t know what the hell to expect. “Uh... Peter,” he says slowly, which mostly results in an even more confused look.

“I’m sure Peter is fine,” she says and she’d know, Tony supposes, she lives with him.

“Not what I- you know what, I’m just going to get to the point. I um. Want to court him, formally,” he says. When she looks confused he wonders if maybe this is another one of those rich people holding onto old traditions for way too long as some sort of stupid status symbol type thing like omega balls but May decides to clear things up before he has to ask.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” she says and oh, great, he already figured she didn’t approve. “And you look... relieved?” she asks more than states, clearly confused.

“I’m pretty used to people not liking me much, can’t say I blame you in this case uh- Point is I actually really like Peter. And I mean normally I think asking for permission to date someone is antiquated at best and insulting at worst given that you know, this is Peter’s choice, not either of ours and asking your permission like that matters more than his is bananas offensive on account of it kind of strips him of his ability to speak for himself but uh. The point, yeah, is that you’re the only one he’s got left. His parents are dead, his uncle is dead, and yeah, normally I’d bypass the whole asking permission thing because its kind of bullshit but in Peter’s case I know how much it would mean to him, if you actually gave me permission. You know, on account of everyone else is dead.”

Its not until he gets all that out that he realizes it kind of sounds like a dick move to rub all May’s dead relatives in her face so he’s a little confused when she looks surprised. “That’s... surprisingly well thought out,” she says.

Tony shrugs, “I mean, sure. Just seemed like something Peter would appreciate.”

May considers him for a moment, clearly unsure what to make of this before she crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s Peter’s favorite color?” she asks and that has to be some kind of joke.

“Is... is that a real question?” he asks, confused.

“Well apparently Quentin didn’t know what his favorite color was, so yes,” she says.

Tony blinks rapidly, confused. “He didn’t guess that they guy who wears a freakish amount of baby pink, with his room painted baby pink, who actively goes out of his way to buy things that are baby pink’s favorite color is baby pink? What a fucking dildo,” he says, absolutely baffled at how a person couldn’t know that. Even Rhodey could have passed that test and he’s met Peter like seven times.

“You don’t happen to know more about their relationship, do you?” May asks and no, not exactly but that doesn’t mean Tony knows nothing either.

“I don’t think so but let me tell you Peter has asked permission to do some strange shit. Like I don’t give a damn what he posts to his social media accounts, that’s his business. And I don’t care what he does with his friends, and why the fuck would he need my permission to do that anyway? Every time he says or does something weird like that I’m just a little bit more glad I broke that asshole’s nose. Even if it was an accident,” he says.

May frowns, “how do you do that by accident?” she asks and Tony sighs.

“Spend enough time with me and you’ll learn to do all sorts of things by accident that wouldn’t normally seem like things you can do by accident,” he says. “But I maintain that he had it coming.”

*

When Peter gets home he’s ready to have a five day nap but the moment he sees May and Tony sitting at their small kitchen table he goes into panic mode instead. “Hey Tony, what are you doing here?” he asks nervously, eyeing May and she doesn’t look impressed. Oh god he can only imagine what kind of information Tony let loose out of nervousness. He’s a nervous babbler and Peter doesn’t want May to know anything. Or more accurately more than she already knows.

Tony turns around looking just as irritated as May and that doesn’t say anything good. “We’re bonding over how much we hate your ex,” he says and Peter relaxes.

“Oh thank god, yeah, Quent sucks,” he says, deciding to use his newfound energy to get a drink. He’d been worried there, for a moment but with the knowledge that they’re not annoyed with each other Peter figures he’s fine.

“You’re okay, right, Peter?” May asks as he rummages around in the fridge. That... hurts to hear so he takes a few moments before locating a Redbull and pulling it from its hiding spot behind an old can of peas.

“I’m fine, May,” he says honestly. “I got tired of his garbage eventually.” Well, more like Tony in comparison was like a billion times better and he wasn’t even trying. Still, point still stands, he learned that Quent was maybe totally shit for him and he should move on. Its not like he was much better, mostly they just brought out the worst in each other.

“Not tired enough, I know he still texts you all the time,” Tony says.

So he does, but he’s been learning to keep his distance. Peter wonders if maybe its a calm before the storm type thing but he hopes not. he hopes Quent gets over himself and moves on and leaves him alone. He’s happy with Tony despite everyone’s worries and they’ve been together for awhile. He thinks they’ll do okay.

“He’ll get bored eventually,” Peter says and he can see that both May and Tony have their doubts, they actively exchange a look about it and that floors Peter honestly, but neither of them say anything. Peter maintains that Quent will eventually get bored, its just that he’s like a dog with a bone until he knows for sure he’s not getting his way. Maybe it should have sunk in by now but Peter knows it will, eventually.

Tony and May turn back to each other and May gives him a small nod that leaves Tony looking weirdly excited. Peter is going to need at least one more Redbull to deal with this cryptic shit.

*

Peter kind of wants to know who freaks out the most, Ned or Liz. MJ will keep her cool because she’s not a crazy person but Liz and Ned are dramatic and romantic at heart so he’s curious as to who will do what. The few people that see him walk in give him a double take but he ignores that as he makes his way to his and Ned’s locker. Ned should probably already be there, more than likely having hitched a ride with Liz, so he figures he’ll get his answer soon enough.

He’s surprised to see MJ there also given that she usually takes the bus and the bus takes eight hundred years to get to school but maybe Liz picked her up too. When they look over he’s excited, almost as excited as he was when Tony gave him the collar to begin with. He’s managed to keep this a secret all weekend so he could get a proper reaction out of them today, unaffected by previous knowledge and bad phone pictures.

Ned and Liz look shocked and he’s sure either one of them would have said something but MJ shoves them both out of the way to walk over to him first. Liz ends up in the middle of the hallway and Ned ends up halfway in their locker as MJ tilts his head to the side. “Okay, eat the rich and all that but that’s a fucking nice collar,” she says. “When the hell did you get that?”

“Friday,” he says excitedly.

MJ, Ned, and Liz all make an offended noise. “And you just said something?” Ned asks, betrayal face on.

“I wanted you guys to have a better view than a cell phone camera picture,” he says. “He asked May if he could give me the collar,” he adds.

MJ wrinkles her nose and he figured she’d do that. “Kinda gross,” she says and Peter sighs.

“He didn’t ask like that. He said he thought I might like if my only living relative actually approved of my relationship. Otherwise he said he thought asking for someone else’s permission for a decision that’s mine is an asshole thing to do because it says he cares more about their opinion on my relationship than my opinion on my relationship.” And Peter thought that was sweet, and he’d had a nice conversation with May afterward. He knows she’s worried about him still but she shouldn’t be because Tony is really sweet and supportive. And he lets Peter experiment with things that interest him not that he’s about to tell May about his interest in bondage, that’d be like... way too much information.

“Alright, back in my good graces but he’s on thin fucking ice,” she says. “And he has good taste,” she adds, nodding at the thin rose gold metal collar around his neck. Peter loves it, loves that it matches most of what he owns for outfits too and he knows Tony did that purposefully. Especially since if Tony had his way he’d wear a hell of a lot more red. Peter doesn’t see his obsession with the color but Tony doesn’t get his thing with pink either so they’re even.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he gave you a collar until today,” Ned says. “We’ve been bamboozled,” he adds dramatically. Liz nods along in agreement and MJ rolls her eyes.

“Dramatic sea goblins,” she accuses.

*

Peter doesn’t really mean for Tony to find the cuffs, he knows the picture he took of them was nice enough to pass for a stock photo so its not like Tony knew he had them but he finds them nonetheless. Peter’s about to tell him they don’t really mean much, he got them forever ago and Quent threw a fit about it and that led to their first breakup though he came crawling back the next day after one of his teammates decided to hit on Peter but still.

Tony doesn’t throw a fit though, or break up with him. Instead he looks at them kind of like he’s located the holy grail and that’s... well, Peter has wanted to use them on someone since he got them not that he had a willing partner until recently. “So you’re like... actually okay with those?” he asks and Tony frowns at him.

“At what point did I indicate I wasn’t?” he asks and Peter pauses for a moment, biting his lip. Tony rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to know what Quentin did about it,” he mumbles, accurately guessing the problem here. Peter has found that a good number of his problems boil down to Quent.

“I mean, text messages are one thing, real life is another,” he points out. Obviously the distinction doesn’t matter to Tony with the way he’s eyeing the cuffs in his hands.

He considers them for a moment before turning to Peter. “We’re all going on a vacation of sorts to Malibu and you’re done school by the time we’re leaving. Want to come?” he asks.

That’s... a change in subject. “If May lets me, sure. Who counts as ‘we’?” he asks.

“Carol, Maria, Rhodey, and me. And you too, if you can. And bring the cuffs. And that ball gag, if you’ve got that lingering around somewhere too,” he says, looking around like Peter keeps that kind of thing lingering around for May to find.

He smiles a little, reaching under his bed and pulling out a box. He hands it to Tony, who takes that as an opportunity to snoop through it, finding that ball gag fast. He finds the rest of the set too and his reaction is pretty much the same as when he found the cuffs. Peter feels a little flush of excitement at the possibility that Tony might actually let him try some of this stuff out and he’s got like a million ideas and he really, really wants to put them to the test.

Tony sets the box aside and all but drags Peter into his lap, “please tell me you have more of that stuff,” he says.

Peter wrinkles his nose a little, “I don’t, it took me forever to get all that as it was.” That stuff isn’t cheap and Peter did his research, he got nice stuff not that it amounted to anything. He’s not entirely sure why he got more stuff after Quent lost it about cuffs of all things. He thinks the flogger is more worthy of freaking out over, not that its that bad, but no. Cuffs.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to all but shove a card into his hand, “buy whatever you want,” he tells him and Peter raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” he asks and Tony nods. Wow, okay. “Do I um. Have a budget?”

Tony squints for a moment, like the idea is foreign to him and Peter figures maybe it is. He looked up the price of his collar and almost had a heart attack at the ripe old age of seventeen. Well, almost eighteen but still. “Uh. I don’t know, what’s a small number to poor people? Like five thousand dollars?” he says and Peter can’t help the wheeze he lets out.

“What the fuck? How is that a small number?” he asks, mind absolutely boggled.

“That’s not a very large number, Peter,” Tony says and Peter snorts.

“Oh, as I poor person I know that’s not a lot of money, that’s like... half of what most poor people make in a year,” he says and at least Tony looks baffled now.

“How does anyone live off that?” he asks and Peter rolls his eyes.

“They don’t, babe. Hence being poor. Five thousand dollars, that’s the lowest number you could pull out of your ass?” he asks, shaking his head.

Tony looks like he’s trying to figure out poor people bills for a half a moment before he shakes his head and leaves it be. “Whatever, doesn’t matter at the moment. Spend whatever you want. Replenish that lingerie stock I’m sad I never got to see,” he says.

Peter snorts, “you would want me to do that,” he says.

Tony shrugs, unrepentant. “I mean, yeah. I got like, a small taste before May decided to ruin my fun before I even got to really experience it,” he says, pouting.

Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, sure. I’ll get whatever I want,” he says like he won’t feel guilty immediately after buying anything.

[manonholloway]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐳𝐞𝐫 // thread.

WHO: Whim/Manon & Lucky [ @lazersong ]

WHEN: Jan. 04

WHAT: Lucky finds a way to get Manon control of her body from the passenger, even just temporarily.

WARNING: Some violence and threat of murder, terminal illness

Lucky had found it — at least, he hoped he'd found it. It was a temporary answer to a long-term problem that would require more dire measures, but for now he at least opened a means of communication between himself and Manon. All it took was the click of this small device, silver and cyclical, that would release a high enough pitch that could allegedly trigger a Passenger to switch out. He didn't know for how long or if it would even work, but it was worth a try. He approached the apartment door he'd waited outside of so many times before and knocked twice.

Whim had only used the home of Manon's parents because of the ease of it all. She didn't have to pay rent  — with the threat of taking over their bodies with herself or her alleged friends  — and she ran that home like it was her own. Maybe it was a bit of karma for the monsters that had adopted her body. She wasn't expecting visitors, but had no problem in opening the door to whoever it was. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood to play any games with you today," Whim said honestly, slowly starting to close the door. "I really don't want to deal with this."

Lucky reached forward and placed an open palm on the door to prevent her from closing it, "Wait. I just want to talk. Can you come outside for a second?" he asked, seeming less agitated and confrontational than he normally would've when conducting a conversation with Whim.

Whim looked him over, not sure what he wanted to talk about. "Is this about the credits?" she asked, slowly opening the door back up again. It had to be, right? She stepped over the threshold of the door, placing her hands on her hips. "Because I mean it. A million credits, no discount."

"Something like that," Lucky said, stalling for time as he discreetly reached into his back pocket for the device. Stars, he hoped that this would work. "No discount? Not even for a friend?" "Why do you believe we're friends? You put me through torture in that park. We're far from friends," Whim said, frowning at him. "Is it because I let you talk to that mush for a mind girl for a minute? We're not friends. And that's not happening again."

"Torture? It was a hyper wheel, that's far from torture." Lucky protested before feeling perspiration gather on his palm anxiously and he reached forward, grabbing her hand and yanking her forward closer to him. "You sure about that?" he asked before pressing the small button on the device.

"Well if you  — " Whim started, surprised that she was yanked forward so quickly. She heard the piercing screech that only affected herself go off before she could comprehend what was happening, unable to do anything about it. She tried to cover her ear with her freed hand in a futile attempt to save herself, finding herself having to crawl back and escape from the forefront to keep herself sane. Her body, again, was not expecting to receive control so quickly, collapsing immediately. 

Lucky anticipated the collapse and he pulled her body into his arms immediately, allowing himself to fall so they were both crouched on the ground. "Manon?" he asked, wondering if it'd actually worked instead of just warding Whim away. "Manon, it's Lucky. Can you hear me?"

Manon couldn't hear properly at first, everything sounding distorted beyond all belief. She thought she heard a piercing ring in her ears, it slowly fading away as she started to comprehend his words. It was Lucky. He was back. Or... she was back? She couldn't remember anything since he last held her. ... Why was he holding her? She looked at him, starting to smile weakly. "L...Lu...cky....?" she said, before wincing in pain. What was that ringing?

Lucky nodded, wondering if she could even see him at all. "Yeah, it's me." he said as he cradled her. "Are you okay? Sorry about the ringing - it's all I could do to get her to go away.”

Manon kept trying to smile at the bhevor, hoping to ignore the nasty ringing in her ears. This wasn’t going to work, was it? “Hur...ts... a l...lot,” she whined, trying to sit up unsuccessfully on her own. Everything felt foreign to her, despite the body being her own. “I...Is... ah, is sh...e gone...?” Every word was a struggle in itself, overwhelming her.

"I bet..." he replied, feeling a touch of remorse but otherwise relieved he was able to bring her out again. "For now, yes. I don't know for how long though, so I'm... I'm sorry if things are confusing for you. I'm trying to figure things out right now but it's - it's really difficult."

She nodded slowly. “It’s... o... okay,” she said, placing her hand on his cheek. She looked visibly uncomfortable, very much in pain from the ordeal. “You... don’t,” Manon started, stopping to grimace. “W.... orry. I’m... okay.”

He bit his lip whenever she touched him, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. "Are you? Because that's all I want, for you to be okay. I'm doing everything I can to try and fix this. I-I think I can get her out." Manon nodded slowly, her hand trembling in his hold. “Mmm... okay,” she lied. What if this put Lucky at risk? Trying to mess with a passenger? “Don’t... ever...ything isn’t... wor...king,” she tried to say, knowing how confusing she must have sounded. Everything was confusing to her, the way it felt like her mind had melted. But she knew that her body was starting to fail after everything she had been put through in her life. Maybe it wasn’t worth the effort. “Not... wor...th....” "No, don't say stuff like that. There are doctors out there who can get her out, she's just... She's waiting for you to get worse, but I'm going to get her out before that. I've just gotta find them," Lucky said reassuringly, "You're worth it, Manon. Okay? You're worth it."

Manon shook her head. “No,” she said, as sternly as she could manage. The change in tone hurt her chest slightly, causing her to cough. “Not... worth... it.”

"Yes, you are," Lucky insisted, forwarding a hand and cupping her cheek in it. "I think you're worth it, so I'm going to get her out and you can finally live your life. Okay?”

Frowning, Manon shook her head. “No,” she insisted. It wasn’t worth it if it got anyone hurt. “Sh...e’s bad... she’s going to h...hurt you.”

“She’s going to hurt me? I’d like to see her try,” he let out a small, broken-up chuckle. “I’ll take care of you. She won’t hurt me. I promise.”

Manon winced in response, the ringing in her head hurting too much to endure. “Wh...what if I d...don’t get bet...ter?”

“You will. You will,” he repeated, more in an attempt to convince himself than her. “Don’t worry about anything else. I’ve got you.”

Manon nodded slowly, smiling at him. “Th...thank you. You’re... really... good,” she said, feeling guilty.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m sort of an asshole. You’re what makes me seem good.”

“No, you’re... good,” she insisted, closing her eyes. The pained expression was starting to alleviate, just barely. “I... like you. You’re.... g-good.”

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." he smiled, hoping that the pain was lessening. "I like you too. You're a lot more good than me, Manon."

She shook her head. “No... not tr-true,” Manon responded. She felt an itching in the back of her head, the passenger trying to claw her was back into control. “O-Ow.”

"Yeah, it is true. I'm a total asshole to everyone else. I was an asshole to you, even, but that wasn't really you..." he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Are you alright?" She shook her head, ignoring everything else he said. “M...My head... h-hurts,” she whined, rubbing her hand over her face. “Hurts.”

"Okay, okay, um... Fuck. I think she might be trying to get back in control," he informed. "It's what I read when it comes to this stuff, anyway. You've got to hang on."

“H-Hang on?” Manon asked. She trembled slightly, just covering her eyes with her hand. “But... it h-hurts.”

"I know, I know, but you've got to fight it. It's one of the only ways we can get her out without you turning to complete mush." he insisted.

Manon shook her head, barely able to keep herself from crying in her discomfort. “I... I-I don’t... Lucky, I c-can’t...”

"C-C'mon, just a little longer. This is your body. Your life. You have to fight for it, Manon." he pleaded with her desperately.

Manon nodded slowly, before starting to relax. She could do this. She could do this. She could... not. Whim forced her into the back, furious that she just had to entire that. Furious that she still ached in that pain. The passenger tried to hold on through the frequency, grabbing him by the collar. “Lucky?”

Lucky inhaled steeply whenever he was grabbed, lowering himself even though he was stronger than both of them. “Y-Yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Whim spat, sending a fist into the others face. She didn’t care where she hit, all she cared was that she hit as hard as she could.

Lucky groaned whenever he was hit, feeling a flash of pain engulf his jaw as he let go of her and held onto it. “S-Shit!” he yelped.

Whim shoved him off, trying her best to stand through the distorted view she had on everything. Fuck. “I’m going — to fucking kill this body,” she said, clenching her fists. “And then — then I’m going... I’m going to kill you. “

Lucky scrambled onto his feet and held up the device again, “D-Don’t sound too sure about that. One fucking click and you’ll be down for the count again.”

“I can take —  her down with me,” Whim scoffed, trying to focus her vision. Everything felt horrible and spun around her, although the ringing had finally stopped. “She won’t be able to fight me, she couldn’t. She’s weak.”

“Fucking try it.” Lucky said, hovering his thumb over the button just as a lingering threat. “She fought you off for that long, I don’t doubt she could do it for longer.”

Whim glared at him. “Then why haven’t you pressed it?” she yelled. “Because you know she can’t do it? Because you know she can’t use this body after I’m gone? Or because you’re too scared that you’re going have to deal with your feelings for some inept human for real?”

“Do you want me to?” he said in return with a raised voice. “Shut up. Your days are numbered whether you like it or not. Be lucky I’m not pushing you anymore right now or else you’d both be mush by the time I’m done.”

“Do it. Do it, I dare you,” Whim snapped. “I wouldn’t be mush. I’d recover. I’d live. Her? She’d never recover. She still will never recover. And she’s aware, right now. She’s a complete mess.”

“If I did this enough you’d crumble just like any other pathetic Passenger,” he hissed before slowly lowering the device in his hand. “But I still want to give her a chance, so remember this the next time I ask to speak to her.”

Whim frowned at him, though relieved that he lowered the device. “Aren’t you scary?”

“Whatever. You won’t be so cocky the next time that sound goes off, will you?”

She grinned. “Maybe I will be,” she replied. “You’ll never know.” Lucky scoffed and shoved her aside before walking past her and beginning to make his way down the stairs from where he came.1Message #lucky-manon

[scaredandbored]

.ok i caved and wrote spones. academy au spones. with a really, horribly out of character spock. was this purely self-indulgent? yes. i’m not even 100% sure what im doing with this story, only that its spones, they share a dorm, and its going to be a gross, borderline self-insert fic lmaoooo. playing fast and loose with the academy’s curriculum because i’m a lazy piece of shit who won’t research the actual structure. also, idk if it even counts as slash, because it contains what i consider flirting, which is ACTUALLY just bickering and academic/scientific discussion combined with gentle physical contact. let me have this. 

additional note : i snuck in some pining at the end! so it’s definitely romantic! ha! (it’s not worth it dont bother)

additional additional note : i fucked up a perfectly good spones fic by trying to add jim but it turned into McSpirk 

Collectors poke and scalpels ring

(title from billy corgan’s poem “a wax seal”)

warnings : don’t read this spock is so badly written in it.

                 blatant abuse of the comma, oxford and otherwise

                 someone gets burnt but it’s not severe and it’s off of tea 

                 cursing. a lot of it. 

words : c.6’000 (i’ll count properly tomorrow, it’s hard to get a word count on mobile)

If Leonard was being completely honest with himself (which he tried to be, dammit), his studying had stopped being productive at some stage between midnight and one a.m, but he’d be damned if he was going to grant his smug-enough-already roommate an “I told you so” by going to bed. Not that Spock would use such colloquial, illogical language. Resisting the urge to groan, Leonard let his head fall to his desk, confident the pile of pages he had accumulated while studying for his assessment in Standard Procedures in Classifying Non-Humanoid Life-Forms would muffle the thud enough to prevent upsetting his roommate’s meditation in the bedroom next to his. Walls were thin at the academy, that was the whole reason he’d had to turn down Jim when he’d requested Leonard to bunk with him for their second year in the academy. Bones loved the kid, he really did, but if he wasn’t blasting his frankly awful study music through the whole night, he had someone over from wherever he’d been that evening, and Bones had come to learn (quickly, and unwillingly), that Jim was loud in bed.

Making the decision to go make a coffee (not with one of those godawful replicators, but with some decent coffee beans that his younger sister had brought as a present on his birthday, for which he’d had to actually purchase a grinder and coffee press for afterwards, but it was the thought that counts), Bones couldn’t help but miss the all-nighters he and Jim used to pull together in their previous year at the academy, using each other to keep awake and motivated. The kid’s taste in classical music left much to be desired, but he didn’t seem to mind Bones’s preferences, so they’d throw on the med student’s study playlist on Jim’s maybe-technically-banned-but-no-one-is-going-to-snitch-on-us-because-we-all-have-one-Bones-relax speaker and bounce flash cards off of each other, explaining things to one another, and sharing notes. Jim had always been very much an aural-oral learner, unable to retain information unless he had explained it to someone, or had it explained to him, and while Bones definitely did not mind helping his friend out, he’d always been a more individual learner, preferring to take his notes and summarise them, re-writing the most important points until he had them ingrained in his subconscious. Which was all well and good, except it was a pain in the ass of a technique that only became more frustrating when it was employed in a long night of cramming.

Quietly, Bones took his mug as well as the rest of the required paraphernalia from the almost-bare shelf in the equally almost-bare cupboard he and Spock had voted to dedicate to Bones’s “illogical need to entertain guests with a strange variety of baked goods paired with one of two hot beverages” and Spock’s “ostentatious pots and probably poisonous concoctions”, all while chiding himself for reminiscing about study sessions. Of all the stupid shit he could reminisce about at the ripe age of twenty-two, study sessions with a friend he could easily invite over to join him was probably the one of the most stupid. Bones was forced to pause and evaluate his situation as he realised that all his quiet tip-toeing about in an effort to leave Spock’s meditation undisturbed was probably null and fucking void, seeing as he had to manually grind the coffee beans, which would indubitably create enough noise to irritate those over-sensitive ears. Not that the vulcan could feel irritation. Fucking asshole.

Rolling his eyes at his own cankerous mood, he began to prepare his coffee, keeping half an ear on the sudden rustling noises from Spock’s bedroom as the disturbed vulcan did god-knows-what before coming out to lecture Leonard. Or to glare at him. Or condescend him. Maybe criticise him on how late he’d left it to study for this godforsaken exam. Or maybe Leonard was projecting onto his poor roommate, who he’d only known for the better half of a month. (During which, the cranky bastard side of his brain argued, said roommate had made his distaste for human culture and illogic clear, his particular dislike (it was dislike, regardless of whatever “vulcans don’t feel” bullshit he was trying to pull) of Leonard thinly veiled, and his disinclination to speak to Leonard in general blatantly obvious.) Most likely Spock would simply head into their shared living area to procure a cup of his noxious evening teas before returning to his meditation, not stooping so low as to acknowledge the source of the disruption to his nightly routine. Leonard’s mission to caffeinate himself was not under threat. It took more energy than Leonard would ever admit to quell the disappointment that bubbled up at the thought of Spock just ignoring him.

It was stupid-o-clock in the morning, of course the vulcan wasn’t going to engage in a full-blown academic conversation with him, what was he thinking? Bones haphazardly plopped the filter over his mug just as the kettle came to a boil, doggedly ignoring the squeak of Spock’s door and the sound of his bare feet against their tile floor.

“It is not recommended for humans to ingest beverages of such a high caffeine content at this hour.” Spock’s voice breaking the eerie silence of the late hour was enough to make Leonard’s usually still hands jerk, splashing his knuckles with the hot water. He managed to suppress a hiss of pain, determined not to let the vulcan see any weakness.

“It’s not generally recommended amongst humans to get your medical degree at Starfleet Academy, yet here I am, Spock.” Griped Bones, turning to face Spock with his mug in hand, the eye contact he made intended as a challenge. Try and stop me, Pointy.

Spock raised an eyebrow, which alerted Leonard to the vulcan’s significantly slower than normal movements. The damn vulcan was sleepy, he realised. In an infuriatingly adorable way, Spock blinked slowly twice before responding, a significant delay in his usual response times to Leonard’s taunts. “On the contrary, an education in Starfleet Academy is highly coveted amongst humans; its expansive curriculum makes its graduates highly sought after in careers outside of the academy. I see no logic in your statement.”

Bones rolled his eyes, knocking back half his coffee in a matter of seconds, and burning his tongue in the process. “I don’t see the logic in continuing to hold conversations with an individual you find so distastefully illogical, Mr.Spock.” He passed the strange traditional vulcan teapot out to his roommate along with the decidedly terran-style mug Spock seemed to prefer using.

Spock offered three more of his slow, dazed blinks before responding with a tilt of his head that was slightly more pronounced than the one he tended to make during the day. “Distasteful? I do not believe I have ever said as much, McCoy.”

Bones gave a single, barking laugh, shaking his head as he began to move back towards his bedroom. “Careful, Mr.Spock. Keep up the flattery and you might say something you regret.”

“You are studying?” Spock called after him, just as Leonard was closing his door.

Leonard watched Spock as he shuffled around their kitchen, preparing his tea, his normally purposefully brisk steps reduced to a half-asleep stumble. His roommate gave no indication of having spoken to him. “In my usual, time-consuming way. Yes I am, Mr.Spock.”

Spock did not face him, but the delay in his response was still significant, for the vulcan, “You study using this highly inefficient method only when learning independently, correct?”

“What is it you’re getting at? There’s only so many hours in a night, and some of us have work to do.” Growled Leonard, his prolonged view of the back of Spock’s house robes frustrating him. Their arguments were much less entertaining and all the more aggravating when he couldn’t look Spock in the eye. Spock attempted to answer while turning to face Leonard in his sleepy daze, forgetting that he was halfway through pouring the boiling water over the strainer, effectively dousing his front in the scalding liquid. There was a brief pause where Spock blinked down at the front of his robes, while Bones processed what had just happened before jerking into action. “Get that glorified dressing gown off of yourself, Spock!” He whisper-shouted, determined not to wake the entire residential block. Spock just blinked at himself, then at Leonard.

“It is burning.” He deadpanned, prompting Bones to roll his eyes and cross the room in a few quick strides.

“It’s boiling water, Spock, of course it’s burning.” He hissed tapping the lapels of the robes. “You need to get out of this so we can get you under some running, room temperature water, try and stop any blistering.” Spock finally seemed to register what was going on and began to unwrap the ties of the robes, turning away from Leonard as he did so. Leonard noticed his roommate look uneasy at the prospect of being shirtless around him, and decided to leave him to it. “I’ll go run the shower, you dry yourself off a bit and run any part of your arm that got caught in the stream under the tap. I’ll call you when the shower’s the right temperature, ok?”. Leonard waited for Spock’s nod before bolting off to their shared bathroom to start working. 

So much for his productive night studying. It was starting to look like he’d be playing nurse for Spock until the on-campus medbay opened at five am. He was just beginning to realise exactly how fucked he was for the exam the following day when the door to their bathroom creaked open slowly. “Nearly there, Spock. I don’t recommend using any of your pungent herbal shit, we don’t want anything getting into any burst blisters or anything.” 

“Your alarm is unwarranted, Leonard. There is no lasting damage done to my person.”

“Congratulations on your medical degree, Spock, didn’t realised you’d discovered a fast track. Y’could’ve told me.” Leonard drawled, not taking his eyes off of the shower, his wrist under the stream of water to monitor the temperature. 

“You know I have done no such thing.” Spock huffed, his less alert state loosening his restraint enough to allow for such blatant emotionalism. 

“Sarcasm, Spock. Somethin’ you’re gonna have to get used to if you plan on launching into the void canned in with a bunch of humans once we graduate.” Leonard was angling for a mild version of their normally acerbic exchanges, but Spock didn’t seem willing to take the bait.

“If you insist I must bathe in tepid water, I will comply, but I trust you understand the state of my health is my concern alone, and you have no power to forbid me from assisting you with your studies.”

“Bold of you to assume I want your assistance.” His final attempt to goad Spock fell just as flat as his others, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Please stay in until your skin’s returned to its normal complexion, alright?”

Spock gave a half nod and stood to the side to let Leonard pass out of the bathroom, which he did a mite faster than was strictly necessary. Sighing as Spock closed the door, Leonard began weighing the benefit of trying to study against the fact he was just worried enough to be distracted from anything too difficult. Leonard scoffed. “Who am I kidding, everything in this module is difficult enough to make me want to rip my fucking eyes out.” He continued grumbling incoherently as he made his way back to his room, throwing a dirty look at the mess of teapots, mugs, and cafetieres as he walked past it. Spock would have a hissy fit. Or, the closest thing the teachings of Surak would allow to a hissy fit. “Goddamn, green-blooded, neat-freak.” Leonard groused, frowning at the state of his room.

Leonard often consoled himself for his lack of cleanliness within the confines of his bedroom using the fact he very rarely sullied shared living areas. He liked to think of his room as a sort of nesting area; cluttered, but cosy and homely. Spock thought the state of his room was indicative of his disorganised mind and illogical outlook on life. He looked around his room, trying to decide how to partially tidy it most effectively before Spock got out of the shower. 

Ultimately, he decided to leave anything that could be passed off as studying material (including, but not limited to the notes Jim had left behind on Starfleet-approved mixed martial arts) and to gather all clothing into one pile behind the door. He had just finished that and was contemplating moving some of the collection of unwashed, half-empty mugs he’d forgotten about into the sink when someone cleared their throat at the threshold of the door, causing Leonard to jump. “Goddammit, Spock, y’could’ve killed me!” He snapped, subtly kicking the sleeve of one of his hoodies behind the door. 

Spock’s eyes followed his foot as he attempted this subterfuge, which lead him directly to the pile of clothes. He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Leonard. “I was unaware the human heart was so poorly designed that even one belonging to a relatively fit for duty, young man was susceptible to cardiac arrest caused by unpredictable scenarios. It leads me to wonder why Starfleet consists mostly of such an inept species.”

The adorable, sleepy Spock had disappeared, leaving the sharper, more alert, more dangerously attractive Spock that Bones was going to have a hard time not coming onto over the next year. “I think I preferred you when y’couldn’t string together a sentence.”   

Spock’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he stepped purposefully towards Leonard’s desk. “You are hardly the image of a functioning officer after your rest cycle has been disrupted, McCoy.” He quipped, pouring over the notes Leonard had been working on before the whole tea-spilling fiasco. “You have been repeatedly transcribing the same five notes for upwards of an hour, if you maintained a constant rate of words per minute.” 

Leonard shrugged, striding over to his desk to snatch the notes back defensively. “What of it?” He snapped, picking up his pad of paper (not good for the environment, but he’d loaned his PADD that he usually used for revision to Jim a week ago and wasn’t due to get it back until that weekend) and old-fashioned pen that used to belong to his mother. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s odd behaviour, picking up the textbook that had started to slip down the back of the overcrowded desk to leaf through it. “It is a highly inefficient method of study. Particularly given your current time constraints.” 

“Spare me the lecture, Spock. It works, and that’s all that matters.” Leonard drawled, having already resumed his scribbling, desperately attempting to commit one of the longer definitions required for the exam to memory. 

“That statement has no grounds in fact, nor does your extension based on the untruth follow any semblance of logic.”

Leonard uttered a string of curses in his native tongue, making Spock consider taking Earth English classes on the side, if only to aggravate the med student in his own native tongue. Not that Spock would ever admit to such irrational motivations.  “Dammit, Spock,” Leonard’s familiar growls in Standard had less venom than they usually did this early in their verbal sparring, a fact that drew Spock’s concern sharply onto the med student. “,either sit down and help a guy out, or get out and let me be. Ain’t that hard.” Spock eased himself down onto the human’s bed carefully, sitting cross-legged beside him with the textbook balanced carefully on his knee.

“I have heard you listening to music whilst studying on previous occasions. I have noted you do not tend to do so while I am meditating, however, I am doing so now. If it assists you, I would recommend you indulge.” Carefully watching the human for signs of distress while he spoke, Spock decided another snip at him would not hurt him. “Your human focus is dismal enough without depriving it of the stimulus necessary for it to operate at an acceptable level of efficiency.”

Spock watched with mild satisfaction as Leonard threw his archaic study materials down in a small rage, his eyebrows practically dancing as he spluttered furiously for exactly 3.2 seconds before responding coherently. “Why, you listen here, you green-blooded son-of-a-bitch, y’ain’t doin’ much good in this here bedroom, so you’ve got about three seconds ‘fore i throw you out!”

Spock unfurled himself and stood, but he didn’t make a move for the door. Instead, the stoic bastard moved back to Leonard’s desk, sorting papers into piles as he systemically searched the surface for something. Finally, he picked up Leonard’s music device: a miniature PADD his younger sister had constructed for her first set of practical engineering exams, programmed to run audio files only. “A’ight, give it here.” Leonard stretched out his hand, palm up, waiting for Spock to hand it over. Spock took a moment to briefly page through the audio files Leonard had equipped the tiny device with, the corners of his mouth turning down fractionally. “Somethin’ the matter, Spock?”

“I was under the impression that humans preferred to listen to classical music whilst studying?”

“That is classical, Spock.”

“I do not recognise it.”

Spock looked up just in time to watch the furrows between Leonard’s brows deepening. “Well, it’s classical, terran music, not vulcan, so I don’t suspect y’would.”

Without thinking, Spock said, “My mother made sure I was acquainted with many kinds of classical terran music as a child. I expected to recognise at least one of these songs from the information she provided me with.”

“Your mother liked terran music?”

Spock didn’t even pause to consider the trust required for him to offer an insight into his personal history. He just did. “My mother was human. I am only half-vulcan.”

“Might be half-vulcan, but you’re still a whole pain in the ass.” The rapidity of Leonard’s answer set Spock totally at ease, and the vulcan allowed himself to relax slightly in the presence of the human. “Y’still’ve done absolutely fuck all to help me, and I really do need to study. Y’can stay if y’want, but I can’t be shootin’ the breeze with you all night, y’hear?”. Spock’s look of confusion at the idiom was enough to send Leonard back on the defensive, and he was about to launch into a strong verbal eviction from his room when something almost-but-not-quite-clear quickly swept over Spock’s eyeballs. “What in the fucking HELL was that!” He shrieked, immediately grabbing his training tricorder from under his bed and scanning Spock, studies forgotten.

Spock’s alarm was only notable in his shoulders, which tensed as Leonard crowed into his personal space to a degree that would’ve been considered improper on Vulcan. Spock did not make any movement to rectify this situation. “McCoy?”. Leonard was muttering to himself as he scanned Spock for a third time. “Leonard?”

“What was that, Spock?”

“I am unclear on what it is exactly you are referring to.” Spock maintained solid eye contact with the Leonard, concern for the human’s mental well-being bubbling under his cool exterior. Leonard blinked, twice, incredulously, before putting his hand on the junction between Spock’s neck and shoulder, which was covered by his turtleneck. He looked at though he was going to say something before he went extremely pale and spluttered incoherently for a few moments before beginning anew with his tricorder scans. “Leonard?” 

“Spock, something’s happening to your eyes.” He growled in response, pressing at the junction where his hand rested. “Turn your head, I want to scan it from another angle. Do you feel dizzy, nauseous, anything out of the ordinary?” 

“Nothing. The level of confusion I am experiencing is within normal parameters for my interactions with you.” Spock felt a wave on content pass over him when McCoy stopped scanning for a second to glare at him, before shaking his head and resuming his activities.

After a few minutes, he withdrew the scanner, dragging a hand down his face. “Spock, I don’t suppose vulcans happen to have a second pair of eyelids, do they?” 

“Have your anatomy classes failed to cover that of vulcans?” Spock narrowed his eyes, deflecting from the fact that he didn’t actually know if the second eyelid was still a functioning part of vulcan biology. He’d learnt about it as a vestigial organ, but his hybrid nature had fascinated many scientists back home. One of the reasons he had decided to leave for Starfleet; Spock had hoped to avoid the invasive poking and prodding done in the name of research. That being said, the soft poking sensation of Leonard’s fingers through his shirt was far from uncomfortable, and Spock felt strange when the sensation stopped. 

“We do, but the piss-poor files the VSA are willing to relinquish to us mere humans are so fucking full of redaction and contradiction that all we’ve left to work with are a few vague diagrams and thoughouly unhelpful paragraphs on the composition of vulcan blood.” Leonard took a step back from Spock, restoring the traditional respectful distance between them. Much too distant for Spock’s liking. “You’re sure you’re not going to die in the next few hours until we can get you to the sickbay tomorrow?”

“I do not need-”

“Spock, you’ve not only burnt yourself-”

“It is superficial at most, and does not require-”

“-but you’ve just discovered what might maybe be an eyelid but could equally -for all we know- be-”

“-medical attention. Your anxiety is unwarranted and your focus on your studies has waned to what could prove to be a detrimental degree if you do not-”

“-a malignant growth of some sort, you have to go to find out if that thing is hurting you or not at least-”

“-cease your illogical fussing and resume.”

“-and I- Spock are you even listening to me?” Leonard’s gradually increasing volume finally peaked out, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the outburst. “Ah. shit, the neighbours.” 

“At this hour, we can hope they are in a deep enough sleep not to have heard-”

“Are you kidding me Spock, I practically screamed-”

“If we continue in this vein, you will lose what little volume control you posses. Please sit down once again and I shall try and gauge how much you have prepared for this test already and we shall start from there.” Spock’s eyebrow lowered itself slowly as he relaxed once more, Leonard sitting down on the bed close to the headboard, making it easy for Spock to sit relatively close to him without making it look like anything but a logical decision for optimum viewing of the human’s notes. Not that it wasn’t motivated by logic. The fact his side was pressed soothingly to Leonard’s was a pleasant bonus. “That eyelid thing is a bit strange, you’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”

Spock levelled him with a flat stare. “I shall visit the nurse tomorrow if you cease this discussion.”

Leonard shrugged and dropped his head down and began working on a list of things he felt confident on for the next day in an attempt to hide his smug smile. It didn’t work, but Spock didn’t say anything. 

A few hours later, they had taken a break from Spock’s relentless verbal assessments for Leonard to give his brain a chance to process the points they had been drilling and for Spock to asses the data he had collected on Leonard’s rate of retention of information to try and streamline their next bout. Except Leonard’s head had dropped onto Spock’s shoulder, and the heat from where their sides were pressed tightly together was relaxing Spock into a borderline meditative state. It was only when his chest started to vibrate lightly when Spock snapped himself back to reality, confident he had not woken his study mate with his unfortunate vulcan habit. Hubris was not a trait vulcans were capable of possessing, so Spock classed his slide in judgement as a calculation error, not as a result of unfounded pride.

“Were’y’... purrin’, Spock?” The human’s voice was muffled by Spock’s turtleneck, so the flush high on the his cheeks went unnoticed by Leonard. 

“It is... an unfortunate, involuntary response of Vulcans.” Was Spock’s clipped answer, suddenly awake and almost frantically pouring over the notes he had made on Leonard’s progress. 

“Mmm, sounds like more of y’all’s goddamn cagey nature. Outta be somethin’ your doctor outta know.” Leonard slowly picked himself up off of Spock’s shoulder. Spock felt irrationally irate at the loss of contact, despite the fact their sides remained pressed together. “Ah, shit. How long was I out?”

“Twelve minutes.” Was Spock’s response, glad to have moved on from his embarrassing lapse in control. Leonard’s response wasn’t forthcoming, so Spock chanced a glance at his roommate, only to find his mouth wide open, eyes closed, and seemingly struggling for breath. Spock’s basic first aid training kicked in, fully aware that humans, much like vulcans, required a constant supply of oxygen, and he began to thump at Leonard’s back, the angle much too awkward for him to apply the force necessary to dislodge whatever may have been blocking the med student’s airways. Except, the med student seemed to have cleared his airways on his own. And was using his perfectly clear airways to yell at Spock.

“The hell’re you doin’? Coulda seriously hurt me with that goddamn “superior vulcan strength” you won’t shut up about! Ain’t a fella allowed t’yawn in his own damn bedroom?”

Spock quickly stood up from the bed, and Leonard watched as the relaxed stance the vulcan had had previously completely vanished. “You appeared to be in respiratory distress. The training I have thus far received in first aid on humans required the first thing to do in such a situation would be-“

“Dammit Spock, I’m a med student, I know what t’do when someone can’t fucking breathe! I, oddly enough, was breathing just fine!”

Spock’s chin lifted fractionally, the last of his near-tender demeanour hardening. “Incorrect. Your chest ceased to rise and fall regularly, you had opened your mouth for maximum oxygen intake and yet you did not inhale, and the distress weakened you insofar as you were forced to close your eyes.”

Leonard looked at him, incredulous. “I yawned.”

“I do not understand. Does this correlate with your -“

“I yawned, you thick-skulled-“ Leonard stopped and took a breath, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Don’t worry, s’just an unfortunate, involuntary response of humans.”

Spock recognised he was being quoted, but unlike previous, malicious quotations made by various humans (including this patprticular one), his roommate did not seem to be trying to get a rise out of him, so he decided to retaliate. “That is the nature of most human responses, voluntary or otherwise.”

The outraged eyebrow that was slowly creeping up Leonard’s forehead was completely undermined by the sleepy grin that was taking over his entire face. “I’m not going to get much more study for this assent done, huh?”

“Assessment?”

“Yeah, the thing we’ve been studying for.” Leonard looked confused, but Spock’s head tilt betrayed his own befuddlement. 

“You referred to it previously as an exam.” His arms crossed his chest, marring his perfect posture slightly. It looked to Leonard that, despite his confusion, his roommate was more relaxed than he had been. 

“Yeah, an exam, an assessment, no difference, is there?”

Spock would later deny the look he gave Leonard was ‘incredulous’, Leonard would exaggerate his expression into one of absolute shock when retelling the tale to Jim the following evening. “There is a considerable difference, Leonard. Considering the brevity of this particular elective, the only grade that might impact your final score will be the final examination. Assessments in such a relatively insignificant elective will not affect your final grade in any serious manner.”

“It’s a matter of pride, Spock.” Leonard smiled, shaking his head. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

Spock glowered down at his roommate, the expression so slight that Leonard didn’t notice it at all. The silence strung out for a moment longer than absolutely necessary before Spock sat down at the foot of Leonard’s bed. “Pride is illogical, McCoy.”

Leonard snorted, shaking his head. “Pride and spite are the only things that keep me going, take ‘em away and I wouldn’t do a thing.” 

He watched as Spock’s eyebrow crept upwards, his head tipping lightly towards him. “Your finger brushed my collarbone earlier, when you touched my robes.”

Leonard went a bright red, and his respiratory distress seemed genuine this time. He leapt off of the bed, putting the distance of the width of the room between them. “Fucking shit, Spock? Why didn’t y’tell me! Fucking touch-telepathy, that was probably stupidly invasive, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit! I’m sorry. I’m fucking dense, I thought- I don’t know what I was doing, shouldn’t’ve gone near you-”

“Calm yourself Leonard-”

“And now you’re too polite to call me out on it, goddammit, we had lectures on proper conduct with vulcans, fuck-”

“Leonard.” Spock had stood and walked over to the human. Leonard was shocked when Spock put his hand on his shoulder. “There is no offence taken, do you understand?”. Leonard seemed to have lost his voice, but nodded. “I only brought up the incident because I sensed only concern and concentration from you through the contact. There was no bitterness, no concern for your pride or reputation. You saw your patient and thought of nothing but how best to administer effective and efficient treatment.”

Leonard had not made any indication of wanting to brush off his hand, so Spock decided to return to the personal space he had occupied while Leonard had been scanning him earlier. Leonard blinked several times, eyes crossing slightly to stare at the tip of Spock’s nose, only an inch, maybe less, from his own. His mouth suddenly went dry, and he swallowed hard, once. Spock’s nose had never looked so kissable. He shook his head- not an appropriate thought to be having while Spock was, wait, what was Spock saying? Leonard could hear him speaking, but his brain wasn’t processing the words correctly. Or at all. He thought maybe he was complimenting him, or maybe trying to get Leonard to explain his dry, almost self-critical comment. Hell, Spock could be reciting Shakespeare for all Leonard knew. Or cared. The vulcan’s voice was deeper than it was normally, more like it was when he had been sleepily pouring his tea earlier, less like it had been for their shared life up until today. The vibration of this deeper voice reminded him of the purring, the utter relaxation and warmth that had accompanied those vibrations, and... and Spock was still talking and Leonard still had no idea what he was saying because his mouth was moving very nicely, had his mouth always moved that nicely?

“BONES!” That voice would pull Leonard out of any dazed stupor he could possibly fall into. That voice, with that tone always meant one of two things. Jim needed his help, or Jim had done something he needed to confess to that would probably piss Leonard off. “BONES? YOU HOME?”

Spock had somehow managed to perch himself on the edge of Leonard’s desk, textbook and notes in hand, pointedly not looking at Bones. Rolling his eyes, Leonard walked out into the living area. “What the fuck have you done, Jim?” 

“Bones!” Jim practically bounced over to the med student, which meant he’d absolutely fucked something up that was going to piss him off. Clapping his shoulder playfully, Jim used the momentum of his bounce to swing himself around Bones, heading for his room. “You’re not going to believe what a weird mix-up there’s been, man! So, look, I-why, hello, Mr.Spock!” Jim glanced over his shoulder with an “i-cannot-believe-you-got-the-hot-guy-we’ve-both-been-crushing-on-into-your-room’ look on his face, his mouth slightly open and his eyes comically large in mock disbelief. “What’s a hot guy like you doing in a dingy place like this?” He had turned his impish gaze back on Spock, gesturing vaguely around Leonard’s room as he mentioned the ‘dingy place’.

Spock’s face remained impassive, not betraying the flash of amusement he always felt when the younger human flirted blatantly with him. “Vulcans’ core temperatures are, on average, actually lower than that of humans.”

Where Leonard would’ve snapped back a witty counter attack in order to incite a fascinating debate, Jim simply leaned right into the lewd implications only he could draw from such a droll, basic fact. “Are you saying that you think Bones and I are hot, Mr.Spock?”. The man had far more confidence in his charismatic abilities than any other human Spock had seen knocking their own glasses off of their face when discussing something passionately with a lecturer.

Spock was about to fire back a response -noting in the back of his mind that of the friendships he had deliberately built with a select few humans in the hopes of appeasing his mother, the ones he had formed with Jim and Leonard, though not particularly strong yet, brought him a feeling of completion- when Leonard came into the room, red-faced and rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Jim, you’ll make him uncomfortable. Vulcans don’t flirt, that’d require expression of emotion.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard, mildly puzzled. Had Leonard not recognised their discussion before Jim had arrived for what it was? Was his respect and admiration of the medical student not clear?

“What is it you’ve done, Jim?” Bones had leaned himself against the door frame, staring fixedly at his ex-roommate, who was glancing between Spock and Bones with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

“Well, I was going to apologise for a stupid thing I did, but seeing as it wound up with all three of us in a room with a bed, I’d say no apologies needed.” Jim couldn’t keep a straight face delivering that line, his flirtatious demeanour crumbling into pure giddiness. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. S’just weird seeing the two of you together, it’s like you guys exist separately in my mind, and seeing you getting cosy in Bones’s room is just so wacky-“

“Jim!” Bones’s bark made Jim laugh even harder, and Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly as Jim’s merriment grew and Leonard became more and more flustered. These humans affected Spock more than he’d care to admit, and watching them interact brought a sense of contentedness over him. “It’s fucking crazy o clock in the morning, what in the hell could’y’ve done that y’need to confess so bad?”

“Small scheduling error, Bones, no big deal! In my defence, I didn’t realise how late it is, I was reading this really cool book that Galia’s sister sent her, so far it’s been absolutely gripping, can’t put it down-“

“Jim.”

His blue eyes darted around the room nervously as he giggled anxiously. “You don’t have a test tomorrow, Bones, I do. I fucked up and logged it in the PADD you’d loaned me instead of my own PADD, so I guessed you got a reminder and I know your memory is shit outside of your studies, so I figured you’d be up cramming-“

“Jim-boy, what’d you just say? Because if you said what I think you said, I’m going to-“

“Leonard, I would not recommend engaging in a physical altercation with Jim. He has considerable more experience in such matters.”

Spock felt a shiver down his spine as Leonard’s dangerously icy glare turned on him. “Are you sayin’ y’don’t think I can take ‘im, Spock?”

“That is not what he said Bones! C’mon, how bad was it? You got to bond with your roommate, and now my two best friends are on speaking terms, at least. Sounds like a win-win to me!”

“I’m gonna need the two of y’all to get the fuck outta my room, if I’m going to get any sleep at all before tomorrow.” 

Jim’s smirk got even more mischievous, the glint in his eye almost dangerous. “Maybe we’ve planned for you to get no sleep tonight, Bones.”

“I resent your implicating me in your antics, Jim.” Spock was definitely grinning, goddammit! There’s no way a vulcan could manoeuvre their mouths any further into a vague smiling shape.

“You’re not denying it-”

“Both of y’all need to shut up and go to bed, it’s late.” Leonard groused, having had enough of Jim’s playfulness, which was a bit too much for how late it was. Also, the thoughts and feelings he was invoking in Leonard with his meaningless teasing were enough for him to overthink on for the rest of his life. Jim’s pout made Bones fully aware of just how much he wouldn’t mind kissing his best friend, which reminded him of how close he had been to doing just that to his roommate, which reminded him of how it was just his fucking luck to be attracted to the two people he most defiantly shouldn’t be attracted to. The two most unattainable people on campus. He was probably a sadist. Jim sat next to Spock on his bed, and Spock had turned to mutter something in Jim’s ear. On his bed. He was absolutely a sadist. 

“That’s a good point, Spock. I think it’ll be difficult to strong-arm him into spending more time with the two of us as well.”

Spock had the good grace to look up at Leonard with what could be interpenetrated as an apologetic expression. “Those were not my... exact words.”

“I’m a med student, not a socialite, dammit!” Jim was sitting very close to Spock, they looked so right together it was sickening, and Spock was clearly mooning over Jim, and Bones... Bones needed to sleep. Now. “I’ll come over to your place tomorrow after I get out of the labs at six, Jim. If Spock comes, he comes. I don’t care.” He did care. A lot. 

“Seeing as two of us live in these quarters, it would be more logical for us to reconvene here, would it not?” 

“Nah, Jim’s got a better replicator.”

“I’ve also got better taste in holos, so...”

“You absolutely do not-”

“I don’t think watching documentaries counts as a relaxing night in-”

“I shall be there, eighteen-hundred hours.” Spock interrupted, his expression doing nothing to ease the daydreams determinedly banging at Leonard’s subconscious as he looked between the two humans. That odd eyelid-thing slid open and shut twice, which Leonard probably shouldn’t have found cute when he didn’t know whether or not it was hurting Spock. But he did, nonetheless. 

Jim clapped Spock’s shoulder, which stopped the eyelid blinking, and resulted in a rather cat-like freezing of his entire frame. “Excellent!” Jim jumped up, bouncing out the bedroom door. “It’s a date, gentlemen!” And he was gone before Leonard’s outraged spluttering could hold him up. 

“It’s not a- dammit, we’re not- Spock-”

Spock stopped to place his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, deliberately making eye-contact. “To borrow Jim’s turn of phrase, ‘it’s a date’, Leonard.” 

And that rendered Leonard totally speechless, left staring mutely at Spock’s retreating back. What the fuck kind of emotional fuckery had he gotten himself into?  

[mismerccray]

Took Your Time

OMG, ITS MY FIRST STORY!!!!! Feel free to leave comments and opinions. My request line is open, enjoy the story!!!

Bruce Wayne x FemBlack!Reader

Sometimes, life is good. I mean, it isn’t great, but sometimes it's pretty good.

 Growing up in The Narrows and generally trying to survive in Gotham as a black woman? That’s hard. No college degree and a working class family that moved back to the south? That’s hard. Now let’s add being discriminated against by employers, just because you aren’t a size 6, in anything and refuse to perm your hair. That brings the difficulty up to damn near impossible. Let’s not even get started on the sexual harassment and misconduct for the few employers who thought I’d agree to sexual favors in exchange for employment.

I had a brief run of luck about three years ago. I started working at the main office for a charity that worked closely with the rich upper crust of Gotham, but they were cool with my usual braids or twist out hairstyle and paid $20 an hour with benefits and pension plan, so I will suffer in silence with a smile. The rich assholes that keep all the minorities under their thumbs and on their toes by voting in lawmakers that side with them and their money. That was our main clientele: Bigots who wanted to make it seem like they actually cared with charity galas.  As difficult as it is to bite my tongue when these jack asses say terrible things, there was always someone there to make my day.

Bruce Wayne. 

He was one of the few regulars to this office and one of the few that actually acknowledged that I don’t work for him. Didn’t hurt that the man had a brilliant mind and was a pleasure to look at. The first time he came in and we had a conversation that wasn’t about politics or business, he accidentally bumped into me as I was taking paperwork to my supervisor. Did I mention his lukewarm coffee got all in my hair and all over my only good button up shirt? No one had ever apologized to me so much in my life. This man convinced my supervisor to let me take an early, extended and PAID lunch just to put myself back together.

“Crap, I don’t have another shirt to change into. Maybe I can change into one of my old church dresses after I shower and do my hair again...” I start muttering out loud, trying to figure out how I can keep working while dealing with the sexist ass dress code. I never even notice Bruce smile at me, somewhat sheepishly until he spoke again. “I really am sorry about your shirt, crap, and your hair. I could give you a lift to get a change of clothes if you want?” he said with all sincerity. You smiled politely at him and waved him off. “It’s fine. I’ll just wash it in the bathroom and hope it doesn’t set a stain. But I probably will have to go and wash my hair though.”

Bruce looked guilty, but still very much composed, as one would think of a businessman. Honestly his name and wealth didn’t sway me one way or another, but when he offered to have my shirt professionally dry cleaned, gave me his spare crisp white button up shirt and came back the next day with four large boxes, I started seeing the measure of this man.

He walked in as if he had an appointment and came straight to my desk, two young men I recognized as his son’s Tim and Dick, following closely with the boxes. “Hello y/n. I wanted to apologize for yesterday again. Normally I’m not that careless, but I suppose that’s what happens when you rush” he says with a soothing tone, as if he expected me to be angry at him? Odd. “It’s really alright. I need to be thanking you for the shirt and having my shirt cleaned. Speaking of which, I want to pay you back for that, it must have been expensive to get that stain out”. 

He looked at me confused one moment and like he was staring at the sun the next. A small smile crept onto his face and he leaned on the counter. “It was nothing, but if you insist on repaying me, accept this small gift and maybe get coffee with me after you get off?”, his son’s set the boxes on the desk and pat their father on the back before making an exit. I idly notice that one of them really does have a fantastic ass, kinda like Beyonce or J-Lo. 

I shook off the thought and open the first of the four boxes and gasp at the contents. Clothes. This man bought me clothes. Expensive clothes. Ashley Stewart, Lane Bryant, and international plus sized brands that only make clothing that costs more than Gotham Electric bills. This man bought me boxes and boxes of clothing. I open and close boxes and find even more clothes. The final box is what brought me to tears. It was full of the most expensive natural hair care products known to the world. Products I could only dream of owning and using....But this almost felt like too much.

I wiped my eyes and before I could say anything, he’s taken my hand. “Please accept these. I overheard you saying that was your only work shirt. I figured the least I could do is give you more choices. And I don’t know much about hair care, but I did research and saw these were the best of the best. I really love your hair. Too many businesses here force women to change their hair, but you’ve embraced it and it is a marvel to behold. Even if you don’t want the coffee, I want you to take these as gifts”. Then this man has the audacity to give me the most gorgeous megawatt smile I’d ever seen. That was the moment he had me. 

(Later on, he’d tell me how I got him with my smile the moment he saw me and my twist out that looked like a floating chocolate cloud, “Gravity defying curls” as he calls them)

Things were going great. I was dating Bruce, we would go out on the town every few nights, He even came over and had movie night with me (That ended with us making out before we were an hour into the movie...) and bought us chinese food from my favorite take out joint. I was making enough money that I bought a good studio apartment in the city by the office and could still afford my bills. Life was good. 

Until the fucking Joker came along.

In one night, my life was ruined. Joker took me hostage (Why me, I’ll never know), blew up the entire block that the charity building was on, which included by apartment and all of my information. Thankfully Bruce was late picking me up, so he wasn’t caught up in this, but I kinda wish he was. Heck most of Gotham had heard the rumor that Bruce Wayne was Batman, but no one really believed it. Either way I knew that Batman would be coming soon, but damn if he wasn’t taking his time! Joker was breathing his stank breath in my face while he tied me up. If it weren’t for my years of customer service, I would’ve made a stank face that matched his breath. Thankfully he got out of my face and left the room to wait for the bat, leaving me to panic in an attempt to free myself.

As I’m trying to calm myself down and undo the ropes, thinking about how I could’ve just stayed in North Carolina and I wouldn’t be in this mess, I catch some movement out of the corner of my eyes. A swath of black enters the room without a sound. Batman is here. I look him in what I assume his eyes and glare, holding my now freed hands up.

“Took your time didn’t you?”

I saw the ghost of a smile grace his face before he hefted me over his shoulder and passed me to someone. I saw an ass like J-Lo and knew it was Nightwing. I was almost too shocked to be outraged at being handled lack a potato sack.

“Nightwing, take her out of here, I’ll deal with Joker.”

It wasn’t until Nightwing turned about that the voice and the jawline matched to me.

Holy shit. Bruce Wayne really is Batman. 

I mean, everyone knew Dick was Nightwing, you can’t say those asses are different.

But Bruce is BATMAN! 

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

I feel a tap on my shoulder that brings me out of my nostalgia. I open my eyes and look up, only to see the man of my dreams. Bruce smiles softly down at me and sits on the edge of the tub, two glasses of champagne in hand.

“Mind a little company, Beloved?”

I grin up at him and gesture for him to join me scooting up to make room. He sets the glasses down on the edge of the tub, disrobes and gets behind me. I lean back and lay my head on his shoulder as he lovingly strokes my warm caramel skin that makes my heart sing. Well that and the memory of him helping with wash day the night before.

Bruce kissed my shoulder and then my cheek.

“What have you been thinking about?”

“The day I realized you were Batman and that you have no issues about picking my ass up.”

Looking over at him, I see a sensual grin form across his lips. 

“Oh, I’ll show you a bit more of that after this bath.”

Mmmmn, I’m in for it tonight.

[chaniters]

Reaper and the Fiend- Epilogue.

Epilogue for @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac’s second series.

As usual, looking back id the realization that the more characters and elements you add up, the harder it gets for the plot to keep cohesion. Many times I almost call it quits, but somehow I pulled trough to the end. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Awan and “The Question”, the precognitive surviving member of the Phoenix Rangers, reflect on the aftermath of it all before Ortega joins them. 

Spoilers inside too, for Rebirth.

_______________________________________________________

The first rays of sunlight touch your Sidestep mask, as the cloud begins to recede. Ashfall and Sentinel have been working together to try and ground the toxins into a nearby landfill for hours now.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” The Question comments. 

“I think it’s working,” 

“Me too” He says while checking the air analyzer’s readings. “This is the real miracle”

“You still believe in miracles?”

“Magical miracles? No. But miracles made true by people with flesh, blood, and bone? Of course.”

“Interesting way to put it”

“When you’re like me, it’s the only way to put it”

“Right, I forget you’re supposed to know the future or something?” You didn’t forget. His mind is a maze that rivals yours, but he’s got a truly calm attitude about it that’s making you envious. 

“It depends. Do you believe in fate?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you believe our lives have been predetermined from before we were made? That, someone, decided who you’re supposed to be for the rest of your existence and that’s that?”

That’s a very specific question to ask to you… 

“No. I don’t believe in fate”

“Good. Me neither.”

“But you see it. The future, I mean.”

“I like to believe we are masters of our own destiny”

“That doesn’t really answer anything.”

“Well there’s a reason I didn’t call myself ‘The Answer’, you know?”

“Shut the fuck up” you laugh, unwrapping a candy bar. “I just came here to lie down, not to have a philosophical debate”. 

“You really aren’t going to ask me about your future? Everyone does.” Is he baiting you? You get the impression he knows a lot more about you just by looking. He knows too much about... everyone. You are just another speck of dust in a sea of information. 

“No. I won’t ask” you say pulling your mask above your mouth and taking a bite of candy. 

“Huh. That’s probably wise”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Once I tell someone how their future will look like, then it’s set in stone for them and not even I can change it. I really don’t like doing it”

“But you would have.”

“Oh, I would. I do it, more than I probably should, you know for people who need it” 

“Do I look like I need it?”

He gives you a long look.

“No. I think you’ll be just fine without it. I mean, you won’t of course, but you will.”

“That’s both ambiguous and terrifying. How do you know the future’s not set in stone even before you look?”

“I really try not to think too hard about that. I think you didn’t want a debate?”

“Fine. I just want to relax” you say retreating and straightening an overturned sunbathing chair. “It’s been a shitty day”

The door to the staircase leading to the top opens, and Ortega comes in, in full suit. 

“Sidestep. I see you’ve made yourself comfortable up here. You know, Steel could have really used your help with all the angry civs though.” 

“Funny way of showing it. He said I wasn’t part of the team when you asked me to stay.”

“Yes but… well, you know he didn’t think you would actually walk away… he thought you wouldn’t listen and help anyways like you always do.”

“Well I guess we all learned something new from that experience, didn’t we?” 

“You just wanted to piss him off that badly?”

“Ugh… no… well, maybe I did, but you know I don’t do well with crowds with strong emotions, and I had more than my fair share today. I need some peace” 

“Fine. I understand… But just so you know, you did a darn good job in there”

“... a lot of the people who got killed might disagree” you point out.

“And a lot of people who lived will be thanking you. We saved them. You saved them. No one could have predicted how this would go”

“I could. I did” the Question states while looking at the analyzer he’s been fiddling with.

“What? You did? The only thing you did was call us! Why didn’t you say shit? A lot of executives died” Ortega points out.

“If I had told you, you would have saved them, and those are the ones who would have voted not to open the Archology to the civs, and we would be having a civil war right now. Thank me later”

“You let them die!”

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the ones with fighting powers, It was you who couldn’t rescue them, remember?”

“Wow. you really are full of shit” You interject.

“Look I lost my team to that monster ok? Could’ve lost the entire city too. I don’t like it but it’s how my stupid powers work, I’m not a fighter like you two, so give me a fucking break.”

“... fine” you say, too tired to argue with this jerk. 

“Good. Ashfall’s plan is working, pollution levels are coming down… I’ll go coordinate some stuff, If you’re staying here seek me out once it goes below 33% alright?”

“We don’t work for you!” you complain. 

“We’ll do it” Ortega interrupts you.

“Ugh. Whatever”

The Question nods and leaves, letting you two alone up here at the zenith of the Arcology. The monotonous beeps of the analyzer repeat intermittently over the strong winds.

“Funny guy” you comment

“Don’t get me started on that asshole.”

“I was just finished with him anyways.”

“So it’s working?” he says changing the subject and looking down at Sentinel and Ashfall working in the distance. 

“Seems like it” you answer.

“Nice to have some good news, finally,” he says approaching the edge. 

“Join me. Nothing compares to sunbathing under a toxic cloud with your suit on.” you offer.  

“Receding, toxic cloud you mean” he clarifies taking the chair next to you and laying over it. 

“Right. Receding” you snort. 

“Not going to lie. This is the biggest fucking mess I’ve ever been into since I got into the capes business”

“Same here” you agree. Nothing you did for the farm compares to this clusterfuck.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. Not by a longshot.

Letting Catastrofiend into the core worked, as the beast consumed enough of the gas to allow the scientists to stabilize it somewhat, and turn the lights back on essential systems through the facility. The computers were toast, however, as Charon wiped all data and OS before erasing himself, commiting digital suicide upon it’s master’s death. Everything’s working on manual overrides right now. 

There was a big scare when the Fiend came out of the core’s container, glowing like it had the power of an evil purple sun ready to burn you all, but to everyone’s surprise, it didn’t survive long after saving performing its single heroic feat. The glow became blinding, and then it disappeared, only the echoes of its roars remaining as a reminder of its presence along with a pair of purple footprints. 

You caught a glimpse of your least favorite asshole, The Void, holding some sort of gun and hiding back into it’s cloaking device, walking away. Whatever it is he wanted, you’re sure he got it, and if your scans were to be trusted, he left the arcology immediately after that. 

Your work to convince the remaining executives to let the people in was much easier now that all the surviving scientists were focused on having the building not explode. They couldn’t afford combat on the outside when their tech was unreliable, and Reaper managed to remind them of their own mortality by dusting a couple of them. All it took was a small nudge on the mind of the deciding vote and the gates were reopened. 

“We lost Psychopathor” Ortega says laying down on a chair next to yours. “A lot of the crowd still backs him and he just got lost among them.” 

“We’ll get him next time” you reassure him. “We couldn’t fight him in the middle of this civilian mess anyways or it’ would be Halloween with Catastrofiend all over again”

“... Too soon man. Too soon” he says bending his arms and putting his hands behind his head, relaxing.

“Sorry.”

“You’re right. Not a damn thing we could do about old shitface, so It’s time to lie down and wait”

He stretches, crossing his legs as he looks up, just as you were doing earlier.

“They’re doing a fantastic job” you comment.

“Sentinel I had no doubts about, but Ashfall? He really came through working with those creepy scientists about the sand-whirlpool shenanigan”

“It was a good idea” you say peeking down. As the polluted air comes down into the landfill, it goes trough a series of sand walls of that Ashfall keeps raising, coming clean on the other side. Several trucks come in with sand refills while others take the polluted compounds away. 

“Good for him. His publicity wasn’t very good before this” 

“What about your publicity?” his mask looking your way

“My last publicity stunt with you guys was with Reaper and he turned to be a homicidal maniac so I’m thinking I’ll give that a pass from now on. Please don’t get me into that shit again?” 

“That’s fair” he concedes. 

 “... anyways… they stole a bunch of tec shit from the lower levels and left. Some sort of targeting device and many plasma weapon prototypes”

“We’ll get him” you repeat. 

A news helicopter flies by, taking pictures. It turns to take one of you two. Fuck. That’s tomorrow’s cover right there... 

“I know what you’re thinking… but we’re not going to be the top news tomorrow.” 

“No? Who is?” 

“I talked to my agents… Reaper, and The Fiend it is. Geni-Tech’s minimizing  company’s responsibility for the toxins and making them the focus.”

“They  kind of had a lot to do with it anyways”

“True…”

“That’s not what’s bothering you tough?”

“How do you know?” he asks turning towards you.

“It’s pretty obvious. What happened with Elyise?”

“... mierda. You’re good. You sure you can’t read my mind?”

“I can read Idiot easy enough. It’s my favorite language”

“... she left. I can’t find her. Didn’t want to talk to me”

“Understandable. Her mother just died for real this time”

“I just… I didn’t see another way... “

“That’s because there wasn’t.” 

“And now she’s going to hate me forever for it”

“Yup, pretty much” you add looking into the distance.

“Would you had done the same?”

“You’re asking me of all people?”

“Yeah. I want to know”

“Would I sacrifice a lab monster to save countless human lives…” Shit. That should be the farm’s motto. Would you sacrifice yourself to save lives? That’d be a better question.  “Yeah. I guess I would… Look, just because you do the right thing doesn’t mean people can’t hate you for it”

“Ha. The right thing…. What even is that”

“Good question,” you say closing your eyes. “So fucking tired”

“Me too. You should get those cuts checked...”

“Later. It’s just a scratch really. And you know I don’t like”

“Hospitals, yeah I know” 

“Good”

He doesn’t reply, and you both stay silent for the longest while, just listening to the wind as Sentinel keeps the small inverted tornado pulling the cloud into the landfill with Ashfall grounding the chemicals in it.

When you finally open your eyes again, the sky has shifted and there are large patches of open sky in the cloud. Checking your watch, you realize it’s been almost an hour since you sat down here. 

Ortega’s still next to you, so it was both of you who fell asleep. 

Since when are you so careless? Lowering your guard so much next to the Marshall’s a recipe for disaster. Standing up, you take a final look at the Sentinel’s work, and the deserted streets of the city below. 

“We should get back down” you add tapping Ortega’s shoulder.

“Eh… what’s the rush?” he asks looking up. 

“Air toxicity’s down 30%,” you say pointing at the analyzer the scientists gave you, your main reason for staying up here. “I’d bet GeniTech’s going to kick everyone out in minutes”

“Yeah… at gunpoint probably.”

You open the door, letting him in first and follow up to the elevator. He makes a call with his intercom to let The Question know. 

The floors of the Arcology are packed with people from Phoenix taking refuge from the cloud. Just as you see them, they can see you too inside the glass elevator. Without warning, they explode in a thunderous roar of...cheers?

There are some boos in it as well, possibly Psychopathor’s fans, but overall it’s just deafening hero worship. 

The kind Reaper talked about. The kind that makes more people take hero drugs. Focused on you and Ortega. You’re not sure how to feel about it anymore. 

The next few hours go really quickly, and you barely manage to say goodbye to the Rangers before leaving back for Los Diablos on the first bus you can get.  You need to get back to your place and rest for a couple of days while you heal up. You definitely lied to Ortega, Catastrofiend left a bit more than just a scratch and the wound is itching all over even after you disinfected it.

Being a hero is exhausting and you’re taking a brief small vacation while you consider what to do with the mess that your life’s become since you decided to mingle with the Rangers. 

__________ Somewhere, in a parking lot in Phoenix____________

“I’m sorry Dr. I couldn’t recover your disintegration gun” The Void states while studying the small weapon in his hand. “It wasn’t in their labs by the time I got there, and with all the city going upside down it was just impossible”

“Disappointing, but not unexpected. I thank you four your services anyways and…” 

“Dr. I’ll return my initial fee to you.”

“That’s not really necessary”

“I care about my reputation. I won’t  take  payment on something I failed to deliver.” 

“That is surprisingly refreshing to hear in this line of business. Very well Void.”

“Of course. Once again, I’m sorry”

He hung up, setting the gun back inside the briefcase, before calling another number, with the San Francisco area code upfront.

“Who are you? Who gave you this number?” a female voice asked. 

“They call me, The Void. And I know all the numbers” 

“That’s very unlikely. So you say your name is Void?”

“No, I’m not just ‘Void’.  There’s a THE before it. The. It’s ‘The’ Void, you hear me?!”

“Alright, alright, calm down you freak, I got it the first time.”

“And don’t you forget it”

“Whatever. What do you want THE VOID?” she made a point to pronounce it in a very passive-aggressive way.

“I need to arrange a meeting with Big Fire about a business proposal. I think I have something he could definitely find a use for” Void added looking at the shining red dot on the disintegration gun. 

“Big fire has a use for lots of things, but no time for everything. What am I supposed to say you’re offering that’ll make him call you back?”

“Oh he’ll call me back, you can bet on it.”

“I don’t like betting honey. Now speak or fuck off” 

“Well, you’re no fun. Ok, tell him I have… a fiend in a bottle,”

“A fiend in a … wait what does that mea-… “

Void hung up without answering, a smile on his lips as he closed the briefcase.

____________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[thenixkat]

Animorphs notes: 20

Book 20

A Marco book

Marco strikes out with a probably Black girl at the school, who has probably been insulted about her name before

And frankly she’s got good instincts to not trust a class clown

Marco is still a fuckboy, ‘females’ really

Marco’s just shit at pickup lines

The general refusal to make a distinction b/w enslaved peoples and the yeerks controlling them.

So either the Animorphs never checked the spot where Elfangor died to see if there was anything left they could use, that the yeerks didn’t go through shit for anything they could use (I’m just going to assume there was no attempt to make a grave marker) or Toomin put the block there for David to find

Yeah Toomin put shit in places (won’t stop me from using it in a fic if I feel like it)

Have I mentioned that the whole litteral deity who does whatever he fucking feels like means that there are absolutely no stakes in this series? I don’t like that.

Yeah, weirdo stranger that ignores “I don’t want to interact with you” signals would get on the nerves

Ya know. It doesn’t feel like the Animorphs are all that hard up on getting the box if they wait that long to start to do anything about it

I still feel sorry for Ax. He is but a jock forced into the role of the one who knows shit.

Wait. Why can’t the chee just steal the box. Just ghost David, see where he puts it. Take it. And ghost out?

STill not  fan of aliens having any sort of roll in building the pyramids in particular and non-White historical structures as a whole

There’s some yeerk plans involving the President and the UN afoot

The chee piss me off for so many reasons. SO many

Again, it really doesn’t feel like the box is all that important 

Jake attempts to pass of a half bird morphed Marco as his deformed little brother

Very lucky those weren’t Controllers

Why exactly did they not decide to have Tobias the most experienced flyier there do it? Right these characters are dumb as fuck and don’t really care about retreiving the mnorphing cube

I mean its perfictly reasonable to shoot a big fuckoff bird trying to attack you

I am reminded of all the shit Cassie talks about Marco being perfictly willing to end innocent bystandars. Of course Cassie is not a trustworthy source of information.

They were not able to retraive the box through a fuck lot of incompenence and some bad luck

David is def one of those spoiled edgy kids

But the trained birds is not an out there theory given the behavior of the animorphs

Well he’s not that reckless, but Marco would be shit help in a dangerous situation as far as David knows. Dude’s tiny. 

David is also very paranoid

Again, why can’t they ask the Chee to help?

Ax: Have you considered unplugging the computer?

Listen, Ax, do these kids look like they have that much common sense? 

Oh, I see alarm systems exist again

A cobra living under teh bed in a cardboard box would be so unhealthy

The writers really hate nonavian reptiles

Ok. The writers have no idea what a cobra actually is.

According to these writers cobras have heat sensing pits like pit vipers and like to eat spiders

Ah yes, cobras do a threat display towards food they plan to eat b/c the writers know jack shit about anything that isn’t a thermal Those are hork-bajir controller not hork-bajir warriors

Slithering pretty well for a snake with 2 bullet wounds

Aww, David tried to get his pet snake out of danger

You’d think David’s dad would be taking his kid and fucking fleeing

Got damn how does Marco still have venom? Snakes don’t regen that shit instantly and he’s used a fuckload already

David’s dad and snake were captured by the yeerks. I’m going to assume that the cat is either dead or also captured

David was knocked out of a second story window, and def landed hard enough to lose consciousness so very lucky he’s still alive

David’s mom is also captured

So yeah lets recruit this kid who’s just lost everything partially due to our incompetence instead of trying to send him out of town or seeing if he has any other family he could go to.

I will give points to Ax for ya know thinking about recruiting help, this just isn’t necessarily the best time

You could go places and prove shit right now, you just don’t want to risk yer own necks

I feel like you should really be asking David before decding this shit or seeing if he has any intrests in fighting this war the way you do

Ax… proposes adding people to the group and then votes against the idea. There are multiple ways in which this doesn’t work.

SO why exactly does Marco hate David? B/c he’s edgy, a bit paranoid, and doesn’t like his humor?

Like you should ease someone into the yer parents are being tortured and enslaved thing after receiving a huge blow like you are now homeless and have to be on the run

Apparently visser rhymes with kisser

So yall really didn't ask him whether he wanted to join yer team and fight along side you. You decided that he was going to. That can’t end well. And given these writers it won’t end well in the way that it should

of course i know that later David does things like murder animals and try to kill the animorphs but like, how much is that just the writers going... oh, shit um quick how to we make it more clear that the Animorphs are better than this kid?

David whent home with Marco, sure why not

Marco catches him trying to call his parents and leads him to a payphone to use

Ah yes, the Animorphs unnecessarily causing hosts harm once again

Nice way to win him over to yer side guys

So they waste a perfictly good chance to rescue David’s dad

??? They move David… to jake’s house. Who’s brother is a controller…

Oh yer trying to get the kid captured. I see

Tobias get the fuck over yerself, Cassie can release her patients whereever the hell she wants. If you have a problem stop living in the fucking wilderness when you don’t fucking have to

David has very good points. Also you can aquire fucking both of the birds. You are not limited to one of each kind of morph.

Cassie, Marco clearly doesn’t like him and Jake’s trying to boss him around and you all forced him to join you

Like David makes very valid points. You’ve done nothing to show you’re trustworthy individuals not trying to use him to your own benifit

Isn’t there a big yeerk thing happening soon? SHouldn’t yall also be working on that too?

Ya know the controller at the meeting is probably a local, given i assume they have a portable kadrona machine and if that shit breaks or need maintenance they’d probably want to be close enough. And i know there’s no global pool network just from the stuff in like book 7?

And they’re taking the new recruit, in his first morph on his first flight on a damn recon mission. Nothing can go wrong there.

Oh look the other shoe i was waiting to fall. Ya know this would be a lot more interesting if the writers didn’t decide to make David an asshole and he still decided to leave/betray the team

So the yeerk forces on the blade ship are wearing their uniforms. But the ones on the ground? Nudists

ya know goading people into doing shit for the first time in a litteral life and death scenario ()b/c who needs things like practice() by calling them a pussy is not going to build any kind ill will

I don’t think this is a well thought out plan from the yeerk side if what’s happening is what the Animorphs think is happening

I wonder if the Animorphs will remember that roaches can fly

Ends on a too be continued

[bigskydreaming]

Linking to an old one-shot AU headcanon-thingie that morphed into actual fic like...five paragraphs in. Its basic premise is the Zataras and Graysons knew each other from various Zatara magicians of generations past all working the stage magic circuit. So (pre-Flashpoint, of Bruce’s actual age and generation, not like, YJ version obvsly, fhalksfklsa) Zatanna ends up adopting Dick instead, and then Things Happen that result in a Jason and a Tim Zatara as well, and all three still become vigilantes, but like, ones that combine different specialties of magics with their other individual canon characteristics, like Dick’s acrobatics and Jason’s fondness of a good brawl.

(Don’t worry, Meanwhile, back in Gotham, there’s still a Bruce and as we all know, where there’s a Bruce, that Bruce is gonna Bruce. Cass and Steph and Damian all end up Waynes and Duke would be an inevitability eventually as well.)

Anyway, self-indulgently bringing this back cuz I have an unnatural fondness for Magic Batbrothers: The Musical! type AUs, and also the dynamics in this quite amused me to write. Plus, I actually have Batfamily-focused followers now, lol. 

I played Dick off as more skewed towards the ‘goofy, perpetual sunshine machine’ fandom take than I usually do, because I mean, this was mostly just crack and I do admit he is fun to write that way when its Honestly Not That Deep, and also in a universe where he is actually loved and appreciated by his little brothers, and they all get along but also occasionally hate each other lots but not really just like the real family they are AND DESERVE TO BE WRITTEN AS, AHEM!

Anyway, an excerpt to go with the link above:

When last we left our intrepid heroes, rich entitled bastards with a pervy penchant for nursery rhymes and child assassins had set their sights on claiming Dick and turning him into their mindless zombie bird-themed killing machine. 

In all fairness, they did lead with the extremely persuasive argument of 'look we totally called dibs before he was even born, so.....step off??' 

Then they kidnapped him and attempted to turn him into their mindless zombie bird-themed killing machine.

Compelling argument though that may be, Dick's brothers are not impressed. They are, however, magical, hyper-competent and extremely petty slash vindictive.

All of which is to say, Tim turns the Court into a bunch of actual owls. And then Jason summons a giant murderous hawk-demon from another dimension that eats all the owls.

And then they wait for Dick to wake up from all the drugs the Court pumped him full of in preparation for The Ritual of Zombie Assassin Making. And Tim just has to ruin it, that asshole.

"You know, hawks aren't naturally the enemies of owls," Tim says out of nowhere. Well. Not out of nowhere so much as out of concern, because Tim's natural physiological response to being worried is to get pedantic.

"What," says Jason flatly. Which is his natural physiological response to Tim being. Y'know. Tim.

Tim shrugs, his eyes intent on their older brother, who is still making like Sleeping Beauty and sooooo gonna get razzed by them for that later, once the Worries and Anxieties have all exited stage right. "It just felt like you were going for a theme. Which is fine, I'm just saying, owls don't actually have natural predators. One might occasionally get killed by a hawk, but usually that's more of a territorial dispute and still pretty much an outlier in terms of statistics."

"Why would you even say that to me right now," says Jason flatly. Not asking, because its a rhetorical question and he's currently glaring the answer to it straight at Tim's back, and that answer is ugh you are such an annoying little shit sometimes.

Which is why when Dick groggily starts to come to, he's greeted by a soundtrack of:

"God, I'm so sorry, I'm just the worst for giving you information that you didn't have before, since clearly if you had you wouldn't have gone with a hawk!"

"Well what the fuck should I gone with, a demonic taxidermist? Like excuse me for being in such a rush to heap vengeance on the pretentious shits who kidnapped our brother, I didn't have time to go to wikipedia and figure out the most appropriate dramatic irony!"

"First off, why would you ever go to wikipedia as a source, we have literally had this exact argument several dozen times - "

"First off, are you seriously giving me bullet points right now. Seriously. Bullet points. Right now. That's a thing that's happening."

"You are such an infant. How are you five years older than me? I make one little critique and you bite my freaking head off - "

"What's happening?" Dick croaks out into one of the few synchronized pauses for breath. "Where are we?"

"The secret underground lair of an evil society of ornithologists who kidnapped you because your milkshake brings all the weirdos to the yard," Jason says crankily, still glaring at Tim.

Not that fuzzy, barely conscious but always guilt-prone Dick could possibly know that its not actually him Jason's ticked at. Tim face palms at his middle brother because what are bedside manners, clearly.

"A bird-themed cult calling themselves the Court of Owls pre-selected you to be turned into the general of their elite zombie assassin army," Tim recites quickly, predicting Dick's likely request for further information.

"Well that's rude," Dick frowns. He cracks open one eye experimentally, winces when even the dim lighting is enough to give his pounding headache a booster shot. Tries the other eye. Nope. Both eyes are in agreement. Light is the enemy of all that is good right now. Ugh. Definitely rude. He likes light. How dare someone incite this unforgivable betrayal from his BFF, light? "I don't think I care for their recruitment strategy. Although at least they wanted me to be the Boss Zombie Assassin I guess."

"Yes," Tim replies dolefully. "That does appear to be the silver lining here."

Despite their antagonism of thirty seconds ago, Jason snickers. They're nuanced like that.

"Well his usual priorities seem to be in place, so I think its safe to say we got to him before they could do any actual brainwashing," Jason says. "All in favor of blowing this popsicle stand?"

"Wait, there are popsicles?"

"No, there aren't popsicles in the evil cult's secret underground murder lair. Its a figure of speech, dumbass."

"Hey," Dick pouts. He coughs once, weakly, but Jason's eyes narrow in sudden suspicion of Milking It Syndrome. "Be nice to me. I was just kidnapped and almost made an Elite Zombie Assassin Boss and my head hurts and is all fuzzy and you know how I feel about popsicles. You shouldn't joke about them if you don't have any, that's just mean. But uh, should we be rushing? If the bad guys are coming back soon I do vote for the not being here option, like, just in case turning me into the Zombie Apocalypse is still on the evil cult agenda."

He would manage to latch onto the Elite and Boss part of that info dump, wouldn't he, Jason muses. What's the timeline for how long you have to express sympathy for your almost-brainwashed brother before you can yell at him for being insufferable about it? Is half an hour long enough?

"No, its fine," Tim assures their brother. "We uh....were slightly miffed about the whole kidnapping you thing, and so we were.....efficient? I guess you could say? About making sure they wouldn't do it again. I turned them all into owls."

"And then I summoned a hawk demon that ate them. You're welcome," Jason adds, not about to be left out. Even if he's going to have words later about being characterized as 'miffed.' The walking almanac knows more words in more languages than anyone in human history, pretty much, and he goes with miffed. The fuck, Timmy. The actual fuck.

"Aww, you guys, that's so sweet." Dick beams at them. Albeit at somewhat lower than his usual wattage. Then his forehead wrinkles slightly in confusion. "Why a hawk demon? Do owls not like hawks or something?"

Tim smirks at Jason viciously.

"I hate you with the searing intensity of a thousand suns," Jason tells his brat of a younger brother. "Also, gonorrhea."

[dragonindigo245]

Project [REDACTED]

Heyo!!! This is a WIP story I'm doing with the amazing @pawton-meowity ! Hope you enjoy! The odd numbered chapters will be posted on their Tumblr while the even ones will be on mine. Feel free to request to be added to the tag list for updates! Thanks! 💜🖤💜

————

Chapter 2: P.O.V. Of Logan

The probability of me having the knowledge of three people coming was as Patton put it, astronomical. I saw them approach the edge of the crater and then they were gone only to have them fade away and the scene play out once more. I simply shook this aside however because the three didn't look like the type who had come to 'chill'. The one with a green and purple eye looked between all of us before loudly asking, "What the hell?!?"

I moved from my spot next to the meteorite and placed myself firmly in front of Patton. Roman however was one step ahead figuratively.

"Problem, Casper the Dreary Ghost?"

The figure in the black ruffled shirt shoved the 'edgier' one aside, as if that was how he got a chance to speak.

"Ooo! Someone with pop culture references! I want that one! Can I, can I, can I, Dee? Pleeeeeease?"

The supposed 'Dee' slapped a gloved hand over the energetic one.

"No. Shut up. We're totally here for the- ARE YOU EATING MY GLOVE?" Dee pulled his hand away in pure disgust. Clearly the one with the ruffles was a little bit unhinged.

The only one who even seemed to acknowledge us anymore was the heterochromatic one. He sighed and slid down the crater like Roman had done so elegantly. Our group was still a little uneasy of him but didn't bother to say anything about him entering the hole. Wait... doesn't that mean he's stuck down-

"Hey nerd, who were the first two that touched this?" I snapped out of my thoughts and looked to see the heterochromatic one sitting on the meteorite casually.

"Pardon? Why is that necessary information?"

"Cause it's important, idiot."

"I beg to differ. I am one of the leading students in my major. An idiot would be-"

"It's just a saying now PLEASE just answer the question."

Patton cut in with both of his hands between us despite the noticeable distance we had from each other.

"Guys! Fighting isn't gonna do anything! Let's just be reasonable, introduce ourselves, and talk it out. Okay?" Normally I would object to this seeing as how I did not wish to make acquaintances with this foreboding figure however Patton seemed more than a little uneasy. Instead of denying his request I simply sighed and mumbled an apology.

"Virgil. Now can you please answer my question?"

"Virgil?" I asked curiously him. "Is that your name then?"

He nodded and motioned to Patton. "He said for us to introduce ourselves and I don't particularly care to learn your guys names soooo... can you answer my question or are you going to dodge around it more?"

Patton spoke up quickly, ignoring Virgil's sour attitude and as Roman would call it: Edgy personality.

"Well I'm Patton! This is Logan or who you called a uh... nerd... and the one with the red hoodie is Roman! To answer your question you desperately want the answer to well Logan and I were the first two. Why do you ask?"

Virgil massaged his nose and mumbled something nobody was close enough to hear. He glanced at Roman who was more interested in the other two people and back to us.

"Do you know how much trouble you have gotten yourselves into? Why would you even touch a giant unknown object that was designed to look steam- OH SHIT I said too much." He hopped down from the meteor and jumped up part of the crater. With ease he scaled it with precise placement of his feet and made it to the top in almost no time.

The rest of his group stopped talking and took one glance at him and seemed to take some hint I couldn't see. The ruffly one bowed to us with a large grin.

"Well you've been a wonderful audience but we're gonna go now! Enjoy the rest of your pathetic lives! Especially you Roman, hope nobody clobbers you over the head with a mace!" Dee pulled him with them and angrily shouted:

"Let's go Remus! You'll get to talk to them later! Less talking and more running!"

Finally the last piece of the set as I believe the saying goes. Wait... Running? They must be running from the people coming from the opposite end of the crater... wait how did I know that? That can't be possible for me to know.

"Roman, Patton, I think they have the right idea. We should go back and swiftly. Something isn't right."

Patton nodded and whispered: "You're right, it's left." before going to the area Virgil climbed. "How do we even climb this? It seems... risky..."

Roman came up to Patton and assessed the wall. "Maybe one of us could stay here while the others climb to catch them if they fall... then the last one just attempt it head on? We could vote or something..."

Roman and I looked at each other and in unison said: "Patton is going up first."

Patton opened his mouth to protest but quickly decided against it when we glared at him, or rather I did at least. I couldn't see Roman's face at the time after all.

I took Patton's hand into my own and helped him onto the first little ledge. I wanted to make sure he could be safe for as long as possible before he was out of my grip. The first step up was alright, second step, third, at the fourth I had to let go which made it worse for my nerves. Fifth, siiiiiiix... that one was almost bad. Seven... one more, ni-

"PATTON!" I screamed as he fell from the very top. I knew where and when he would land somehow and I was very grateful for that. I caught a shaking Patton in my arms and tried to soothe him as much as I could. He got out of my arms slowly and lay down on the ground as if it would help him regain his breath. We didn't have time for this but if we did I would have continued to help him.

"I'll go first this time, Roman. You help Patton climb up as much as you can then I'll make sure he doesn't fall again." Roman nodded seriously (for a change) and I took one last glance at Patton to make sure he was okay. He still was, thankfully, and with that I picked myself up to the first ledge.

Each step up was steeper and steeper. I could see why Patton fell. By the fifth step I was barely still holding on. The sixth one was quite a reach.

Well, if all else fails I end up with a broken bone and mild concussion. No time to ponder now though, we have taken too much valuable escape time already.

The steps were hard but I got to the final one eventually and used all my strength to make it up and out of the crater. Roman watched me the whole way and when I got to the top he helped Patton stand up. Patton was obviously uneasy about this but tried again anyways. He climbed up carefully yet quickly, Roman watched each movement of Patton's but I don't think anyone could watch as carefully as I was.

Patton made it to arms reach and reached for me slowly. I put my arm out to him and he took it gratefully. Roman started his way up while I pulled Patton up. He quickly got away from the edge without another word as I began to help Roman up just as we began to hear voices in the distance.

We didn't need to tell each other to run before we took off into the forest. This time Roman and I were both careful to not leave Patton behind. These people could be life threatening and we were not going to risk Patton's life, not if I had anything to say about it at least.

The pines thick branches covered in needles did not help our circumstances and only made things far worse for each of us. We constantly had to dodge away mid run so we wouldn't tri- Something came at us from below and tripped all three of us. A loud hiss came from a snake as it rose up in front of us. Its species was highly abnormal for a forest in Florida. We do not get false cobras anywhere near here seeing as how they are native to the Middle East. This one however was meer inches away from our faces.

Two people leaped out of the nearby brambles: Virgil and Remus from our earlier encounter. They both helped us up as if the cobra was an everyday thing. It must have actually been because Remus crouched down to pick the cobra up who didn't so much as flinch.

"Come on Dee! Into the bush!" The lunatic threw the cobra into the brambles. He THREW the cobra INTO the bush. Why in the world would he even throw a living creature?

The snake hissed in annoyance and most likely in some slight discomfort. From the bush rose Dee, the other member of their trio.

"Remus! What the fuck?!? That didn't hurt!" Didn't hurt? That was a lie. Did the snake bite him? If so he should probably get that looked at. Remus simply stuck his tongue out in response. Virgil pushed Remus into a bush and sighed, annoyed.

"Asshole... anyways you three made it out of the hole so I recommend you hide out here rather than keep running. The school will be the first place they check for any abnormalities." Roman pushed past Patton and I to loom over Virgil.

"Uh excUSE me? If you don't remember, Emoyore, you abandoned us in that pit to rot! You're lucky you are able to be graced with my precious face because we almost didn't make it! You should start explaining yourself or Zeus help me I will make you!" Virgil sighed and shrugged him off.

"Yeah yeah Princey, I'll explain later. If you value your freedom and don't want to end up like the Waluigi of us then I recommend hiding. Also here's a tip, work on your threats, tough guy."

Remus popped up from the ground with a big smile. "You called me Waluigi?!? I love it! I'm gonna start calling you Wario!" Virgil groaned.

"Please don't. Just everyone get into a hiding place and shut the hell up. Is nobody going to take an actual dangerous situation seriously?" Dee raised his hand.

"Uh I am?" Virgil shooed him off.

"Shut up, you got thrown in a bush. I'm exempting you." Wait they threw him in a bush before we got here? ...And then they threw a snake on him? Something didn't seem to add up but my thoughts didn't have time to make coherent sense of this situation before-

The voices came again and everyone immediately became silent. It felt strange after all the pointless arguing however they thankfully knew when to stop. Dee shrank down in his spot and Remus jumped in with him. A singular bush shouldn't be able to hold two adults but here we are.

Virgil on the other hand pulled his hood from his hoodie up and simply... vanished. Incredible, but certainly not the time to be in awe. Roman looked around for maybe two seconds before pointing up to the trees. That works.

Each of us picked a tree and climbed up it briskly. I was not used to having to use so much upper body strength in a short amount of time however when one is filled with adrenaline they are often capable of going beyond their limit. I had definitely reached mine already but I kept pushing forward.

When I got up as high as I could reach I tried to angle myself to sit on a branch but ended up more of kneeling on one while holding myself up with the trunk. The height was an advantage for us but hope quickly turned to fear (not much fear because I don't have emotions) when I saw an array of soldiers dressed like a SWAT team. They clearly weren't any of the government's employees, however, something told me that. Logically, I couldn't have known that but the human mind works in strange ways I suppose. Patton would know more about it than- move away from the branch. I quickly jumped to another branch as a bullet appeared from seemingly nowhere and struck the original position I was in.

Oh great, they're trying to kill us.

"Shoot em down! Careful not to hit his head or any vital organs!"

Okay they're not trying to kill us but this is probably worse.

I leaped behind the trunk as I heard two more guns release their bullets. Quick... think of a way out. Duck. I threw my body down on my current branch as a few bullets made holes in the unfortunate tree.

"You idiots! I said NOT THE ORGANS! We need him alive!"

Whoever that was is saving my life, giving me vital information, and definitely trying to capture me. It's a weird mix for sure. Are you going to get out of there or what? Okay I'm beginning to think that's not my own voice. Of course not, now get the fuck out of that tree and scram.

Another well timed jump and I made the mistake of stranding myself on a branch that would only take me downward to the unknown aggressors. Oh well good job. Hang on a mo, I'll get Virge. What? How? Okay, okay, okay, this is getting to my head. Just think, Logan.

A bullet grazed my arm, snapping me back into the moment. I took the risk and jumped downward where they could shoot me easier. It was a lot harder to move to where the bullets weren't going to be. By some miracle I kept up, however, knowing exactly where they would shoot next. I must have picked up on their behaviors or something.

The aggressors suddenly stopped firing at me and started shooting at some unseen object. From my angle it was just flora as far as I could see. This was no time to observe though. This was perfect timing to escape.

I jumped down the tree swiftly and once my feet hit the ground I jumped into a bush. They would be more likely to find me here, however this was the best I could guarantee for the time being.

Suddenly the guns stopped firing as each armored fighter looked at each other. In one second they coordinated their movements and shot each other down. I had never heard of anything like it. Everyone turning on each other for no reason and yet doing so in unison? Needless to say the attack on themselves was successful and every last one of them dropped dead.

Roman and Patton got down from their trees and stared at the scene, just as baffled as I surely. I joined their side, as did- wait when did Virgil get here? Never mind.

Speaking of Virgil, he was smiling. That is a rather odd reaction to dead bodies. "Well Remus you did quite a number on them. Thanks for getting me out of that. Anyways, what are we gonna do with the bodies?" Roman and Patton looked to Virgil in a strange mix of shock and confusion while I kept my emotions shoved down because this certainly was not the time for them. That being said I did cast him an interested glance. This explanation is going to be interesting.

[reliquiaen]

@p-o-n-i   Omg have you actually played the game?!! If you have, how is it?    

tl;dr: YOU ARE DAMN RIGHT I PLAYED IT AND LOVED IT???? it gets my vote for game of the year okay it’s 12/10, will play again many times and recommend to everyone i know. i have already talked at least two people into if not buying and playing it themselves at LEAST watching a playthrough of it okay this game is fantastic.

long rambling review (but it could’ve been much longer ur welcome), enjoy:

(not perfect, we could have some poc up in here thanks)

that’s like. my only nitpick though. listen. LISTEN. these kids are amazing and wonderful i would DIE for them. amicia de rune? badass. dorky. absolutely useless for someone who learns how to survive in a world out to kill her all on her own. she’s trying SO HARD to be a good big sister and i LOVE that. hugo de rune? precious cinnamon roll boy. i will protect him with my life. Pure™ Adorable™ the only boy i love with my whole entire heart. just let him play with frogs and butterflies forever thanks. arthur and melie? i mean cmon. what’s not to love about them? arthur makes things BLOW UP. pair of idiots and i support them. lucas? absolute nerd lad. gets SO excited about books alright he’s super relatable.

good story, we get plot twists and information with amicia and it’s all portioned out at just the right rate that you’re there going huh what’s happening but you’re not excluded from the narrative so you feel lost and frustrated. A+ character development for all of them. they none of them know each other at the start and they’re like well okay i guess it’s safety in numbers? and then they start to hang out more and it’s so nice to watch them move from strangers to friends like just. a lot of the really good interactions are a bit spoilery so i won’t mention any just trust me okay. melie turns into this ride or die kinda pal and it’s awesome. lucas has been adopted he’s now an honourary de rune no i’m not accepting criticism.

villains with solid logic behind their actions? got you covered. (also nicholas has some SUPER COOL armour like dang son he was asked what he wanted to wear to abduct children and he said THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES he’s a go hard kinda guy and i respect that) it’s character focused, narrative driven and you CAN play quite a significant portion of the game without killing anyone. that gets harder/impossible towards the end but by that point i was out here like listen fuck you french bastards you lay ONE STINKING HAND on my precious brother and i will FUCK YOU UP SO HARD. JUST TRY IT PAL. so it wasn’t so bad really like i felt justified and alright about making a 15 yr old kill a bunch of dudes bc fuck them. (you will end up emotionally invested in hugo well before the end i mean this kid is now in control of your emotions there’s no escaping that good luck also you can play hide and seek with him askjdf;alskjdg)

there are also some really cool little puzzles/optional ways to play certain sections re: murder hoboing your way through the french inquisition and it’s awesome. like DO you have amicia kill these dudes just bc? does she sacrifice all of her humanity and become just like them? does she have it in her to show mercy to these assholes who DID murder their way through her house and family? WHAT TOLL DOES THIS HAVE ON ACTUAL CHILD AMICIA DE RUNE AND HER INFANT BROTHER? CONSIDER THE TRAUMA. it’s good. so good ;u;

there are a bunch of collectibles, but they’re not like assassin’s creed feather collectibles, these are. omg these are so good. one of them provides actual useful resources, another appears in the castle and they all come with cute lil comments from amicia about who would like them and why she’s picking them up. some she DOESNT pick up thank god, but have lil bits of info about the world and what’s going on (which is mad good) and the other characters often have smth to add (the book at the end and melie’s all ‘they have a MANUAL for this shit’ god i love that girl sm). and then there’s the flowers. omg the flowers. ;u; hugo puts them in amicia’s hair and it’s the PUREST animation i’ve EVER seen. just. a single clip of them picking up a flower right there that’s it that alone wins best game award for me like omg.

one warning: the dog does die. and so do A LOT of other animals. including an entire field of slaughtered pigs??? it’s a bit gross. no sorry it’s A LOT gross. but it’s omg so worth it. i’m a squeamish person but man. MAN. SO WORTH IT. i should be here talking about how grotesque some places are (walls made of rat slime and skeletons?? ick RATNADO?) but listen. it’s FINE. it’s like. you get these really picturesque french landscapes and gorgeous overgrown ruins and then there are areas a lot like that but with slime slapped over the top and also intestines. pack some tissues, brace your stomachs and go explore rat infested France!