#Purple: *whispering in Vic's ear* I know what you are :3

[chaosoftheages]

*King and Victim arguing in Defenestrate*

Victim: DUDE YOU GOTTA GO-

King: Nah man, your coming with, there ain't no way your gonna get into that base to save your boyfriend without getting your ass kicked.

Victim: My WHAT?!

Purple, watching the entire exchange: I CALLED IT!

[bluerene]

don’t think twice [bbrae]

hellooooo friends!! Happy belated Valentine’s Day! 

I had wanted to share a few one-shots for my tumblr valentines earlier this week, but after getting swamped with a paper and a surprise fever, I realized I would not be posting anything in time for the day of hearts :( That said, I still have some gifts to upload so I’ll be staggering these out over the next few days in celebration of my favorite ships and my favorite people on this website and in this fandom.

So, without further ado, my first Valentine goes to @fireflyxrebel , without whom my starx fics + writing presence here would not have existed. Thanks for always being down to chat, Ava, and being the sweetest + most supportive mom friend ever. You’re an astoundingly beautiful, creative, TALENTED human. Love you lots!

Please note - if you’re using tumblr mobile to read this, the formatting will be 100% fucked. I’m not sure why, but there are a lot of random instances of italicization + gross spacing. Sorry <3

Also, not to used cursed terminology, but it’s a tiny bit lemon scented. Or is it lime scented? That’s right, folks, we are BACK on the citrus scale. 

don’t think twice 

How did I live in a kingdom of thieves? 

And people who say things they don’t really mean?

You’re only everything I ever dreamed of.

You must be kidding me, did you really think I could say no?

- Don’t Think Twice, Hikaru Utada

It wasn’t until they had crossed the threshold, their limbs entangled as they landed on the bed, her veil askew and his dress shirt half-unbuttoned, that they realized what they had done.

“Wife,” Gar whispered, nuzzling her neck sweetly. He curled his body around hers, breathing a sigh of relief as they sank into the soft duvet of their bed. 

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” She mused, studying the silver band on her finger with wide eyes, “after everything that’s happened, I didn’t know if things would ever work.”

He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“You had doubts?”

“You didn’t?” 

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d make it all the way down the aisle and still say yes.”

She elbowed him sharply, rolling her eyes. 

“Careful, it’s not too late to get an annulment.”

“You’d just do it all over again in two months like we planned,” he said cheekily. 

Raven smiled, raising her hands to cup his face. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, “you’re probably right about that.”

Her cheeks were pink when she leaned in, brushing her lips against his teasingly. He whimpered when she pulled away, catching her palm and pressing his mouth against it, watching her with dark eyes. 

“Help me get ready for bed?” 

The desire that had pooled in his stomach gave way to pure adoration. He nodded and clambered off the bed, bounding over to her side and scooping her up into his arms. 

She suppressed a giggle and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to carry her to the bathroom. 

Gar flicked on the light and whistled, admiring the polished marble and crystalline glow that filled the room.

“Not bad for a shotgun wedding, huh?”

“We owe Kori big time, you know. She was ready to cry when I told her we wanted to elope early.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t follow us here.”

Raven snorted, patting his chest to let her down, “Believe me, she tried. I had to remind her several times that we would still be having a formal ceremony in December. This was her compromise - she insisted on booking the most expensive honeymoon suite in Vegas in exchange for her silence. I have no idea how she’s going to explain that gap in their finances to Dick.”

“Best sister ever,” Gar commented affectionately, nipping his wife’s ear, “okay, where do we start?”

She touched the top of her head and frowned, wrapping her fingers around the band of the veil that was half-attached to her hair. 

“There are some pins here that you could take out. And then start on the buttons on the back of my dress? I can take the choker off myself.”

“Sure.” 

Her hands went to the clasp of the white ribbon around her neck while his combed through her hair, unpinning the purple waves that were contained beneath the sheer fabric. He glanced around the bathroom, his gaze landing on the massive claw-foot tub that sat a few feet away from them. 

“Hey, Rae, how does a bath sound?” He murmured, sliding the veil off of her head and placing it beside the sink.

“Bubbles and all?” 

“I’m on it, can you finish your dress by yourself?”

She nodded, smiling at his reflection in the mirror.

“Just undo the first few buttons and I can do the rest.”

He took his time with them, not missing the opportunity to press his fingers against her bared skin. Her eyes fluttered shut while he did so, her mouth falling open when his breath warmed her flesh. 

“Don’t get distracted,” she warned.

“Me? I would never,” he teased, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck before seating himself on the edge of the tub. He turned on the faucet and placed his fingers beneath the flowing water absentmindedly, his attention fixed on her. 

Gar spent more than his fair share of time wondering how he’d been so lucky. How, after years of fighting and facing the worst of the world, he had wound up tasting heaven and claiming a piece of it for himself. Moreover, allowing himself to be taken time and time again by its allure, ferocity, and wit. 

Even in the weeks leading up to their wedding, a tiny part of him was certain it wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. Arella would withdraw her blessing. Steve and Rita would blow them off in favor of a mission that required their immediate assistance. Something would get in the way. And as the first ceremony neared, Gar began to panic. 

On the sixteenth of October, two full months before their scheduled trip to Azarath and the subsequent white wedding they had planned to host in Jump, Gar asked Raven to marry him again.

She had only raised an eyebrow, shutting the novel in her lap and setting it aside on her bed. 

“I feel like we already had this conversation.”

“I mean, now. Like, now, now.”

She pursed her lips. 

“What about the actual wedding?”

Gar shook his head, bouncing with excitement. 

“Don’t you see? None of that stuff matters, Rae, not when we have each other, not when we want to get married and we’re ready to do it.”

Raven crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? I thought you were excited about doing a bigger thing. The whole Doom Patrol promised to be there, everyone in the Network is showing up, Vic’s been planning the ‘bachelor party of the century’ for ages. My mom’s even convinced the Head Priestess to let us bring the others to Azarath for our binding. We can’t just cancel on these people, Gar.”

“Is there something so wrong with me wanting to be with you for the rest of my life as soon as possible?”

She scowled.

“What is this, do you think we’re going to call it quits five minutes before or something? I planned on being with you for the rest of my life the moment I said yes to you. Isn’t that enough?”

“If words were enough, I wouldn’t have proposed at all.” He snapped, running a hand through his hair. 

“Okay,” Raven said sharply, rising from her seat, ��I don’t want this to go any further. We aren’t fighting about this. So you can either tell me why you suddenly want to elope or you can walk away from this conversation, and we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

Gar squeezed his eyes shut and sighed tiredly, rubbing the side of his face.

“Sorry. That was too far, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

“You know I love you more than anything in the world.”

“I know that too.”

“I just, ah, I guess I’ve been waiting for something to go wrong,” he confessed, fidgeting nervously, “Vic and Sarah had to postpone their wedding twice because things came up. Kori almost died three weeks before her bachelorette party and Dick broke six bones saving someone else on their honeymoon. I’m so fucking tired of being afraid, Rae. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want anything to get in the way. I just want you to be my wife.”

Her glare softened immediately and she stepped forward, circling her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest.

“I’ve been picking up waves of concern from you for weeks,” she confessed, “I just didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it. I’m sorry, Gar.”

He dropped a kiss on her head, rubbing her back soothingly.

“I got defensive. I shut you out. That’s my fault, not yours. But I still want to get married, right now.”

“Gar -”

“We don’t have to cancel our other plans, Rae, nothing needs to change! We can sneak off to Vegas tonight and get hitched and nobody would even need to know -”

She rolled her eyes, snuggling into his form.

“Bold of you to assume Kori wouldn’t find out.”

“- about us at the end of the day, right? I just want to be married to you. I want to call you my wife. No matter what goes wrong tomorrow or next week or the night before our marriage.”

“Okay.”

“So I don’t see why we can’t - wait, what?” Gar blinked and gripped her arms, pulling her away from him to study her face, “You mean it? We can go?”

She smiled and touched his cheek. 

“I love you, Gar. I would never say no to marrying you, no matter when you had asked. I just didn’t want you to make a choice you couldn’t defend.”

“So...we’re getting married? Tonight?” 

Raven nodded, gazing into his bright eyes. 

“Let me talk to Kori and see if she can cover for us. Go ahead and pack some stuff together.”

He morphed into a wolf and let out a loud howl, bounding around her excitedly before knocking her to the ground and licking her face enthusiastically.

“Down - boy,” she managed between laughs, scratching behind his ears. She rubbed her cheek against his affectionately and rose from the ground, adjusting her cloak and heading into the hallway. 

It would be a few days before they managed to slip away, having obtained permission and “the essentials that you must take with you if you wish for me to keep your secret!” that were so lovingly bestowed upon them by their dear sister. But in the end, it was absolutely worth it.

“GAR.” 

A loud shriek from Raven broke him out of his reverie, drawing his attention to the scalding water that was burning his hand. Gar yelped and pulled his hand away immediately, wincing at the stinging sensation on his reddened skin.

“Idiot,” Raven scolded, taking his hand in hers tenderly. She clasped her cool fingers around it and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”

A gentle trickling washed over the injury, soothing it until the pain had faded to a faint tingling. 

“Thanks, babe. My bad.”

“Go and change out of your suit, I’ll finish making up our bath,” she ordered, shaking her head.

He obeyed immediately, loosening his tie and placing it with the growing pile of her discarded accessories. His suit jacket, dress shirt, and undershirt landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, his dress pants and socks following soon after. A fluffy robe hung invitingly beside the bathroom door and he couldn’t resist slipping into it.

“Done,” he chirped, approaching his new wife, who was also swathed in a fluffy robe identical to his. 

She smiled up at him, drawing her fingers out of the tub and shaking them dry. 

“It’s almost ready, though I’m tempted to just curl up in bed wearing these.”

“The goal is to get naked, not bundle up.”

“Maybe your goal is to get naked,” she shot back, “but mine is to be cozy.”

He grinned.

“We can get cozy and naked. Let me warm you up -”

“Oh look, the bath is full,” Raven said airily, smirking when his ears drooped, “I’ll add the bubbles, you can light the candles.”

“Do you plan on teasing me all night or...?”

She flashed him a rare grin, her dark eyes glinting mischievously.

“Would I really be your wife if I didn’t?”

Gar pouted and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. 

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” she breathed, placing her hands on his and lacing their fingers together.

“We did it. We’re married, Rae.”

His nose sought out her skin, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear slowly. Her dreamy sighs were music to his ears.

The jewel in the center of her forehead flared black for a moment, the lights around them flickering in tandem with each brush of his mouth against her body.  A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, the echoes of his inner beast stirring to recognize their mate. She smelled sweet and clean, like a burst of fresh air on the ocean breeze. 

“Gar,” she murmured, stepping away from the tub, “wait.”

She pushed him off of her gently, biting her lip as she studied him in the soft lighting. His eyes were a warm, dark, emerald shade of green, filled with desire and happiness and longing. His shoulders had broadened in the last few years, complementing his added height and sharpened jaw. But beneath the figure of a man, she could feel the same boy who had called her weird while never truly minding her weirdness. His heartbeat always quickened at her touch. His gaze always brightened. His ears always twitched.

“I love you too,” she whispered, slowly loosening the belt around his waist and pushing the robe off his shoulders. She turned her head, and he followed her gaze, promptly stripping out of his boxers and climbing into the tub. Slowly, with a quiet hesitancy he hadn’t witnessed in a long time, she raised her hand, sending black flashes of energy to each candle that had been placed in the bathroom. Her eyes glowed, and the dimmer on the light switch lowered, leaving them in darkness lit only by gentle flares. 

He watched unashamedly as the robe slipped from her form, revealing a band of dark blue lace that hugged her breasts and hips tightly. A strip of white lace sat high on her thigh, looking strikingly bright against the smooth grey of her skin. 

“Something borrowed and something blue,”  Raven said shyly, “I figured we could keep things a little traditional.”

“Yeah,” Gar replied, mouth going dry at the sight of his near-naked wife in the candlelight, “Something old and something new?”

She neared the edge of the tub, bracing herself with his shoulder and climbing in. 

“The necklace was my mother’s. I’ll wear it again in December. As for the new...”, she stroked his hair gently, “I plan to keep my new husband on my body for the rest of the night. That counts, right?”

“Works for me,” he mumbled, running his hands up her legs. 

“Careful with the garter, that’s borrowed. Feel free to tear into the underwear as you please.”

She stood before him, sighing with delight when he gripped her hips and pressed a kiss against the curve of her waist. He hooked his fingers beneath the garter and slid it down her leg slowly, tossing it in the direction of his discarded clothes before focusing on the dark lace that curved around her ass.

“Hell yes,” he hissed, nipping at the seams with his teeth. 

Bathwater splashed over the edge as his enthusiasm overcame him. She giggled and thrashed in his hold, her laughter turned to breathless moans and pants and cries, some of which were so animalistic they rivaled his own. Waves rode out into a quiet stillness until there was only her body and his, two pieces wrapped together to form a whole. He stroked her skin gently, lavishing the parts that had been darkened by his relentless mouth. They toweled off and drained the tub, wrapped in their fluffy robes once more, and snuggled into their bed, rejoining their bodies over and over again.

When morning came, it was to bring forward the two lovers into the life they truly deserved. 

I want you for a lifetime, so if you’re gonna think twice, baby, 

I don’t wanna know, baby, I don’t wanna know.

Everything is just right, but if you’re gonna think twice, baby, 

I don’t wanna know, baby, I don’t wanna know. 

If you wanna take it to an even higher level, 

all you gotta do is say the word you know I’ll follow,

If you wanna take it to an even higher level,

I don’t, I don’t bite.

[allthosefanfics]

Stripclub bedroom scene

*Jennie POV*

Jaime was gone at the studio and you had the day off work, you were expecting a package today to spice things up in the bedroom the door-bell rang and you jumped to answer the door the delivery man was here. You opened the door and he said "Packages for Everin, Jennie." "That's me." "Sign here." "Thanks." You said as you signed for there were two boxes one from Victoria Secrets and the other from spiceyourlovelife.com. You walked upstairs and shut the door, you opened your first package from Victoria Secrets, it was sexy purple lingerie that Jaime thought would look great on you, and then there was the package from spiceyourlovelife.com, it was a assembly required stripper pole. You began to assemble the pole it wasn't very hard to do, three pieces that snap in place and reaches the ceiling. You walked over and grabbed your new your new lingerie and walked to the bathroom, putting your bra and panties on the counter, you turned on the water of the shower and jumped in cleaning your hair, and body, and shaving what needed to be shaved you got out and dried off, but only a little on the hair, he always thought you were extra sexy with wet hair. You looked at the time it was 7:28pm Jaime should be home soon, but just to make sure you texted him.

Me~ Jaime when are you coming home.

Jaime<3~ Soon. Why?

Me~ I have a surprise for you. :D

Jaime<3~ I'll be home in 10 minutes.

Me~ YAY! (~^w^)~.

Jaime<3~ Love you.

Me~ LOVE YOU TOO!

You put your phone down, and picked up the lingerie slipping on the panties then the clipping the bra around yourself, Jaime was right you do look sexy. You looked yourself in the mirror one last time when you heard the door shut and footsteps coming up the stairs. You walked up and leaned against the pole. Jaime walked in and when he saw you his eyes went wide and jaw dropped."How was it at the studio." "I-I-It was fi-fine." You had him hooked you walked over to him and kissed him passionately. You broke the kiss and started leaving love bites along his jaw causing him to moan. "Lay down on the bed, make yourself comfy." You whisper seductively in his ear making him shudder. He walked to the bed and made himself comfortable as you walked over to the pole, picking up a remote and play 'she makes dirty words sound pretty started to play. You walked in around a spinning way, you began doing your dance, being a former stripper has its advantages. You drop down swayed your hips, and twirled around the pole. you stopped and looked at Jaime, he stared wide eyed and member hard, mission accomplished, you walked over to him and straddled his hips you started grinding on him making him groan, you stopped when he couldn't handle the pressure anymore you took off his shirt and removed your bra, you moved down between his legs palming him, he continued to groan. "These pants must really be... constricting." You teased he nodded you decided to stop teasing him. You un-did his belt and the button on his skinny jeans, pulling down the tight material down his legs letting his erection spring through his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief. You moved up and kissed him through his boxers, you kissed up his stomach to his neck, where you bit hard, not hard enough to draw blood, you knew how he liked it. You pulled away from his neck and a purple mark was already started to form there. You kissed his lips one more time you went down and pulled his boxers off, his member flopped on to his stomach, you took it in your hands and stroked it. "Jennie." He moaned you took the tip in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. He continued to moan your name, you stopped and he whined you got up and removed your panties, Jaime stood up looking at you with lust filled eyes and pushed you on the bed taking control from you, he wasted no time slamming into you, making you scream, but all too soon he pulled out and slammed back into you. "Jaime, fuck." "That's right moan my name, scream it; let everybody know who gives you this much pleasure." "Jaime." "Louder." "JAIme." "Louder." "JAIME!" He was relentless abusing your body but you liked it. You screamed this sent you both into your hot fiery orgasms, making Jaime collapse on the bed next to you; you were both panting trying to catch your breaths. "What was all that for?" "Because I love you." " I love you too Jennie." He pulled you into his side and you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

*The next morning Jaime's POV*

I woke up to a knock on the door Y/N was still asleep, and she looked so angelic when she slept. I got up and put my boxers on, I went to answer the door. When I got to the door and opened it, Vic, Mike, and Tony were standing there. "Dude you were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago." Vic said, "What happened to you?" Mike asked,"I think he got laid." Tony commented, "Sit on the couch let me get dressed." I said as I walked up the stairs "WELL DID YOU!" They yelled in unison, I shook my head and went in my room. Jennie woke up "Good morning." She said sleepily "Good morning babe." I peaked her lips, "I know today was supposed to be our cuddle day buuuuuut the guys are here to take me to the studio." "Really?" she whined "Yes." I said just then the guys walk in "I KNEW YOU LEFT TO GET LAID!" Tony yelled we all laughed, this was the beginning of a great day.

[reginaldbelchhuggins-blog]

The Short and Miserable Romance of Victor Criss

Pairings: Henry x Victor, with some side Butch x Mrs Criss Rating: M Warnings for this chapter: Violence against children, implied/referenced domestic abuse, period-typical ableism and attitudes Warnings for later chapters: Violence, homophobia, racism, and sexism that are all period-typical; canon-standard content; underage sex, smoking, and drinking; noncon elements (but no actual noncon); canonical character death; major character death; strong language Chapters: 1, [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7] Ao3: [x] Summary:

Told from Victor's perspective, each chapter details either a first or last moment of Vic's growing relationship with Henry Bowers as they navigate homophobia, mental issues, and the growing influence of It. The first two chapters are pre-1988, the middle two will be where the sex is, and the final two are where the romance goes south

Chapter 7 could act as a stand-alone told from Henry’s perspective

Story prompt: The first and last Meeting/Kiss/Time of your OTP

A/N: This is their first meeting. According to the book, they met in first grade, but I’ve got them around the age of 5 here:

July 1978

“Victor Andrew Criss, you get back here this instant!” 

The tiny blonde was flying down the street. His little Harley Davidson boots never touched the ground. The woman chasing him – her husband’s leather belt tight in hand – hadn’t run since high school. That had been two and half Vic’s ago. Red-faced and panting, she was determined not to lose sight of him.

“Your daddy’s gonna whoop your ass red, boy!”

He ran straight down Jackson Street and hooked a left at Witcham. His boots slipped against the smooth cement, but he managed to stay upright. He kept track of his directions in his mind, knowing he’d have to go home some day. Maybe after a week, or a month, or even a few months. However long it took for his parents to realize that coming here was the worst decision they could have made .

Maybe he’d go back to Portland himself. Someone here must know how to get there and would be willing to give him a ride. He had two dollars in his pocket to pay for it.

But Papaw Criss had died, and now Vic’s dad decided they were going to be farmers. He didn’t care that Mama Criss had to leave her good job working in that office with the asshole boss (her words). He didn't care that they could no longer afford McDonald’s on the weekends. Papa didn’t care that their house was smaller, and smellier, or that there were rats in the basement. Papa didn’t care that it would take the entire family to work the land, and, frankly speaking, Vic didn’t want to. Papa Criss didn’t care about anyone but himself, and his sudden desire to recapture his youth.

Or at least that’s what his Mama told Angela Bartlett on the phone the night before the moving van arrived. Though Vic didn’t know what it meant, he agreed with it all the same. Because the way she said it, he knew it was something only an asshole would do.

“VICTOR ANDREW! STOP!” His mother’s voice sounded far away. He could hear the raw force in it, though. She was steamin’ mad, but he didn’t dare look back. He didn’t dare stop. As soon as he stopped, she’d be lifting him by one arm and whipping him with the other. So he lowered his head to fight the wind, and ran even faster.

Vic didn’t see the man until they were colliding. The child’s entire weight slammed into the back of the man’s knee, forcing it to buckle; but the man’s reflexes were fast. He caught himself on one knee. His hand swung out with deliberate force, curling into a fist only moments before it caught Vic above his right eye . Fire exploded across Vic’s face. The force of the punch knocked him off his feet. As the back of his head bounced off the sidewalk, the world went bright white for a few seconds, and then black.

 Vic woke for a brief moment. Someone was carrying him, cradling him like he was a baby. It wasn’t his Mama, but someone with big, round arms, who smelled like cigarettes and barbeque. Vic tried to protest being carried , but his words came out slurred and messy. His Mama’s hand popped up from nowhere, petting his hair. She shushed him.

"Go back to sleep, baby. You’re alright.”

He might have tried to fight it, but his eyes were so heavy, and the world had gone fuzzy. He rested his face against the man’s chest, and drifted away again.

 When consciousness returned in full, Vic was in bed, staring at the walls he'd wake up to every day for the rest of his life. Someone had removed his shoes, bandaged up his head, and tucked him in. He moved to undo all, but sitting up made the dull ache in his brain into a regular ache, and then it became a throbbing ache. His brain was thumping so loud against his skull, he almost didn’t hear the small voice asking him if it was alright.

“Huh?” Vic asked, turning so he could see who spoke.

Looking the same age as Vic, there was a boy sitting on a fold out chair beside the bed. He was taller than Victor by an inch, and had the sort of thin, hay-colored hair baby dolls had. He also had the face of a baby doll, with big blue eyes, and a small mouth. Boys weren’t supposed to be pretty, but Vic couldn’t think of another way to say it. The boy was pretty, and Vic couldn’t stop smiling when the boy looked at him. He liked it when the boy looked at him, but couldn't say why.

He was reading Vic’s comics and sipping from a Pepsi bottle with a straw in it. As he noticed Vic staring, he began to hold the Pepsi closer to his chest. Vic could see some second thoughts cross his mind. He held it out to Vic instead, turning the straw so it was easier for him to take a sip. It was the best tasting soda Vic had ever had.

“Butch got you good,” the boy said. His voice was lower than Vic’s, and already had a quality Vic would come to associate with drinking. “He said you might have a concussion.”

“Who’s Butch?” Vic asked, wincing as he remembered his headache. It seemed to make it stronger.

“My dad,” the boy answered, as if it wasn’t strange to call his dad anything other than some variation of father.

“Oh,” Vic said. The boy was straight forward and plain. It got Vic thinking that maybe he was wrong and that maybe in places other than Portland that was a normal thing. “What’s a concussion?”

“I don’t know but you’re probably going to the hospital,” the boy said. He seemed worried. He set the Pepsi down on the floor, and then held up some fingers, remembering something he saw on TV. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Vic counted them slowly, trying to not to aggravate the pain. “Three.”

“Okay, you’re good then. Just get some iced peas and a glass of wine. That’s what my mom does when Butch gets her good.”

Vic nodded. What the boy was saying didn’t make sense. How were peas supposed to help a headache? But he said it with such confidence that Vic couldn’t help but think he knew what he was talking about.

They sat in silence for only a few seconds, and then the boy’s mouth was running miles a minute. He showed Vic the comics he’d picked out to read. Even though they were Vic’s, he started talking to him about them like Vic wouldn't know anything. Vic hardly got a word in edgewise, and it was usually, “Oh yeah!” or “Cool.” But the boy had come alive, and his eyes sparkled as he pointed out some detail in the background of the page. Vic’d never seen anyone so passionate about something before. It had him charmed and mesmerized.

The boy was soon sitting on the bed beside him. The Pepsi shared between them, the boy went on about his comic book theories.

“He has to be in Batman’s brain because he always knows what Batman’s doing. Plus my dad has the same thing. He fought against the Vietcong and sometimes he thinks people are there when they aren’t.”

Vic didn’t know what a Vietcong was, but he’d heard Papa say that sometimes, so it was a thing that existed. It drew up some image of a giant monkey, though, so that's what he saw. He giggled at the thought of seeing one that didn’t really exist walking about. It made him remember the game he used to play. That was before Papa had backhanded him across the mouth and told him to grow up, of course.

"That game's for little babies and psychos," he'd said. Vic had started crying, even as he insisted he wasn't either one.

“Yeah, but you don’t see them because they’re ‘maginary,” Vic said. “Robin sees the Joker, too. So he’s real.”

“This is comic books,” the boy said, making a face like that answered everything. In a way, Vic supposed it did. They both started laughing at that.

“I’m Victor, by the way. Victor Criss.”

“Henry. Bowers,” the boy said, holding out his hand. Vic shook it, and when their skin touched, he felt something pass between them.

When Vic looked into Henry's eyes, he saw loneliness. He was like Vic: filled with passions and aspirations, looking for someone to share them with. But unlike Vic, he'd lost his boyhood innocence already. His arms were already sporting purple and blue marks from the lessons he'd learned so far. When Henry looked into him, he must’ve seen something too, because they both kept holding on.

Vic wondered if this is what it felt like to have a brother.

Lacing their fingers together in that way Vic sometimes saw in magazines, the two glanced at the door. They didn’t think they were doing anything wrong, but they’d also learned a long time ago their parents often thought different .

Henry’s voice dropped into a conspirator’s whisper: “Do you like firecrackers?”

Vic nodded.

The mischievous smile that took over Henry’s face made Vic feel very happy in a way he didn’t fully understand. So they were both grinning ear to ear as he crept closer to Vic, and revealed that he had a pocket full of them.

“Can I come over when you set them off?” Vic asked, his voice also very soft and very low.

“Fuck yeah. I got a bunch of crap toys I plan on blowing up after cartoons tomorrow.”

Vic smiled at Henry using a bad word, but the smile faltered when something occurred to him. “I don’t know where you live…”

“Oh, then I’ll come over here. Butch works until later and he can pick me up. I think he'd like to talk to your mom again. They've been talking in your dad's room for a really long time."

Vic blinked. Henry shrugged.

"I have some XMen comics in that box over there..."

 Butch and Henry stayed for dinner. Mama had a dreamy look in her eyes as she served them sirloin and potatoes. Papa had bought that food for their anniversary. But whatever she and Butch had talked about put her in such a good mood, she must've forgot. Her cheeks were even a nice shade of pink, making her look like a little girl. The front door opened and Papa appeared. He had worked his last day at the supermarket, and the smile on his face match the one on his wife's. 

"You boys go on and watch TV," Papa ordered, clapping Butch on the back. "Let us grown ups talk." 

That was code for let us get drunk. The boys shot them curious glances, and then were out in the living room. They had no way of knowing Oscar "Butch" Bowers and Andy Criss Jr were once old school mates, but the laughter coming from the kitchen was loud and hearty, and they knew they wouldn't be interrupted anytime soon. Henry's hand crept over to grab Vic's, and Vic let him take it. They sat that way until Henry passed out. Vic undid their fingers and pretended to be asleep when Butch came to collect his son. He seemed less like a psycho when he cradled his sleeping boy then when he knocked Vic out. The potential was still there, though.

Mama and Papa saw them to the door. They didn’t move Vic back to his room. They turned off the television set and went about their evening unpacking. Vic couldn't make out the hushed argument they were having, but he could hear their tones and knew they were having one . It would be the first of many that ended with one of the other of them in the kitchen, and the other in the bedroom.

Pretending to be asleep became being asleep. Although he'd be waking up in that miserable house, Vic didn't mind it, anymore. He had a whole day of playing with Henry to look forward to. He would recall, years later, that they never did take him to the hospital. In fact, he could pinpoint that memory as the exact moment in time when his parents changed. It was subtle, at first, but they did change as all parents in Derry changed. They became less of a presence in his life, less invested. Almost like they had been preparing for his death from the moment it was decided they belonged there.

That day, Vic didn't know anything about it. So he slept peacefully, and dreamed of the day ahead.

[alphagaymerw0lf]

Saints Life: Mission 3

Gayness...implied gayness is all I can warn you guys about. Yes, a bit early to introduce Matt Miller but hey, when your walking around you got nothing better to do but admire some cyberpunk fashion...so why not lol.

Once again I only own Vincent and Vitor Wolfe, everything else goes toe creators of the game Saint Row. First time typing something with Matt Miller in a long while so sorry if he's not on point with his character, I do write these early in the morning. 

DO NOT STEAL. 

And as usual, enjoy <3 

~~~~~~~

“In God's Domain”

The streets glistened in the shimmery water that collected in every nook and uneven cranny, lights reflecting their bright neon lights to grab attentions of the city tourists and citizens. Sky hours ago scintillated with million plus stars were now covered with a curtain of dark clouds, providing the dirt of the city a chance to get a free shower, which the city seemed to accept eagerly like the beggars in the alleyways...yet as if the city never slept its citizens ran around like blood pumping through a heart. To Victor, this was already being considered his home, as he walked around every part of Steelport. From the soul of downtown the outskirts near some power plant, one would consider the brain of Steelport.

There was no exact location he had in mind, once a restaurant was found to provide cheap food and a place to stay dry for a while Victor found himself buying a Professor Genki hoodie next door. Odd as it would sound to see a silver haired male walking around with a hoodie that looked like Cheshire cats insane brother in law, pink and purple stripes with those psycho green eyes on the hood as well as the ears, heck if he was that lucky the hoodie would have had a tail.

Despite the odd looks, it was well worth the $20 he spent; it was light, warm, and kept him dry underneath. Plus it was another merchandise to his Professor Genki collection.

Yet what really caught his eye was when he stumbled into a part of the city with men and women decked out in neon blue. Now that (to him) was almost as odd as the guys in wrestling masks south from there. Occasionally he would find himself staring at the men before shaking his head or looking off to the side quickly when they took notice.

They didn't seem a threat, nor did they really look like it...if it weren’t for those giant swords on their backs or scythe looking weapons for the women, needless to say, the fact they were walking around with their guns showing...literally. Regardless of where he wondered they were holding their guns either with both hands before them or lazily dragging it to their side.

“Try to avoid contact with any other gang...”

Shaundi’s voice rang in his head, causing the young Saint to sigh heavily...wait a minute.

“...and don’t mention your a Saint”

If these guys didn’t know he was a Saint maybe bending the first rule wouldn’t be too bad. So Victor turned to the next punk and tapped his shoulder, catching the mans attention easily.

“What do you need mate?” Asked the stranger, in an accent, Victor could easily pinpoint as British. Oh how badly he wanted to mimic the accent, but held his tongue for a moment and offered a small smile.

“Sorry to disturb you, just curious where I could get a sweet jacket like that?” Victor asked, gesturing to what he could tell was leather with neon blue.

The Brit shook his head and rested his gun on his shoulder. “Sorry, only Deckers get this kind of gear” he replied

“Alright, how would I get one without being a Decker?” Victor questioned, hands in his jacket pockets.

“Doubt you could, but you can try talking to our boss into giving you one...for a price”

“And you’d take me to see this boss of yours?”

The Decker looked around, tapping his chin in thought before looking at Victor again. “Maybe, but you’ll have to give up your phone and any weapons before you go in” he warned

Victor smiled and moved his hands to open his arms wide “Fine by me, lead the way mate” he gestured to the road. The Decker didn’t look too amused by his mocking tone but lead the way anyways, right into the depths of the Decker HQ.

Now, most Saints would take this option to blow the whole place up right off the bat, but not Victor, oh no as soon as the doors opened up he was in a whole new world. One of techno music, and a shit ton of neon blue lights...and it was paradise to him.

“Damn! You guys must have rave parties like every night here! The place looks bitchin!” He called over the loud music, following the Decker close til he was stopped by two women, patting him down and took his phone, pocket knife, and a small pistol he had.

“We will be keeping these until you're done” one replied, yet Victor wasn’t entirely paying attention. Just gave a short nod with his eyes taking in the scene, he could be standing there for hours awestruck but the Decker he met on the streets grabbed him by the arm and lead him up to the middle platform, which was surrounded by TVs, computer screens, wires running in collected tangles of snakes. This was just a technology jungle of tangled vines of red, blue, black and occasionally yellow wiring. Within the middle of the circle was a large chair, also connected with cords and a young man dressed in the similar fashion as the rest sitting in it.

“Who the bloody hell is this?”

“He wants to purchase something” replied the Decker holding Victor's arm, nudging him forward. Lights were blinding Victor and making seeing the mystery man a bit difficult for him. Least til he was given permission to step closer, up the final stair and onto the platform itself...and damn what a sight it was.

“Who are you?” Demanded the teen in the chair, a bored almost tired look was on his face. Painted lips seeming to not budge from its expression while blue eyes shrouded in black makeup looked up to him lazily.

“Can ask you the same thing handsome” Victor blurted out before tensing and quickly tried to fix the damage already done. “I-I mean handsome as in a...no...homo...way?”

The teen huffed. “Sure you do, if you must know I am the Decker King as well as a Cyber God,”

“Can I get a name, your majesty?” Victor asked, bowing of course. Glancing up he saw blue lips twitch in an amused smile, the ‘Decker King’ sat up in his chair to look at Victor more closely

“State yours first, as well as your business”

‘That accents gonna kill me,’  Victor thought, smiling as he replied with “The names Victor Wolfe, a mere mortal to a god such as yourself. I ask to hopefully get my hands on a jacket or some kind of merchandise of yours oh greatness” yes he was being sarcastic, yes he was trying to make a joke out of the situation but when the ‘greatness’ smirked in amusement he felt his body temperature rise a few degrees.

It was no secret Victor had a thing for guys over women...at least to himself, Vincent probably freak out if he found out his younger sibling was gay and never bothered to test any theory he had planned out if he were to tell him.

“What exactly are you wanting?”

“Merely a jacket, shirt, phone case maybe? Heck, I’d be chill with a selfie with you at this point” Vic replied honestly.

Again, the Decker King smirked ever so faintly but this time gave a light chuckle. “Alright, I suppose I’ll be willing to give up a shirt for a price” he answered

“Name it and I’ll make it happen” Victor replied.

“$50 bucks” was his answered, and it nearly made his mood drop

“Jeez, that much? Why?” He asked a bit disappointed. That was his dinner money no way was he going to waste it on some shirt, he already lost $20 because of a damn hoodie.

“I...uhm….need it for something?”  Now the King was looking nervous, as if hiding some secret...and the Wolfe had to know.

“What something? Maybe I can get that for you instead?” Victor asked, he may not be the best Saint but when it came to negotiating pricing, he was a master at it.

Glancing off to the side the Cyber God finally gave in and responded with “Nyteblade tickets” softly, hardly over a whisper. Victor had to lean in to hear

“I'm sorry what did you say?”

With a heavy, annoyed sigh the god glared up at the man “I said Nyteblade tickets you twat” he repeated more harshly, causing the Saint to take a step back with his hands up in defense

“Alright alright, how about a trade? I’ll get you these...Nyteblade tickets in exchange for a shirt?” He suggested, that turned the teen's mood around quickly. Sitting up the Decker King looked up to Victor hopefully

“Really? Would you? How? They are exclusive and beyond expensive and-”

“I’m friends with the actor, Josh Birk. I’m sure he’ll cut a deal with me if I ask him to, and for a fan such as yourself how could I possibly say no?” Victor smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets again.

“If you do this, I’ll see about adding something with your shirt”

“How about a dinner with the king?” Victor purred with a smirk. The teen rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, tapping his arm rest in thought.

“Maybe, we will see if these tickets are real or not first”

“I’ll have them signed by the man himself to prove it my Lord”

“Matt,”

Victor tilted his head in question

“My name is Matt Miller, you asked earlier and I never answered. When will I be expecting your arrival again?”

Victor smiled, oddly enough he felt honored to know this mans name. “Tomorrow afternoon, and not a minute later”

Matt chuckled again, waving him off. “Very well, you have your mission” he replied as if this whole thing was some role-playing scenario...and if that's how he saw it Victor was going to play along. Taking hold of Matt’s hand gently he kissed his knuckles like any knight would to a king

“I will not let you down your grace” he replied, on one knee as if he was to be knighted before getting up and walked towards the exit….did he faintly see a light shade of pink in those pale features? Nah just the lighting.

Once he got his phone and weapons back it was buzzing wildly with his brother's number and name.

“Yeah?”  He answered

“Finally! Damn, I've been trying to get ahold of you for an hour now! Where the hell are you?” Vincent's voice rang in his ears

“Oh you know, walking around, making friends, getting minor shit”

“Victor nobody is a friend in this city, be careful. Also, I got a place for us, Shaundi should be sending you the address, meet there alright? Hungry for pizza?”

“Sure, I’m on my way now”

“Who did you meet by the way?”

“Huh?”

“You said you were meeting some people….was it a hot chick?”

Victor smiled weakly “Oh they were hot alright…”

“Shit you sly dog, gimme details when you get here, gotta go….Pierce get in the damn car!”  

Victor held the phone away from his ear and rolled his eyes once the phone call ended. The walk to the new place was long and dreadfully silent if it weren't for his mind coming up with how he would explain what happened to his brother.

Eventually, it left the young Saint gripping his cat ears and groaned to the sky. “How am I going to explain I met God to my atheist brother?!”