#The only part of my Pebbles design that I used was his colors for all but 1 of his features

[susivoi]

Pebbles does not think. He just does stuff.

-

This was supposed to be a flat colored, non-shaded, shit-post that I was planning to post with a bigger piece. Then suddenly my art app was yelling at me about "too many layers". So take this alone since I impulse shaded and rendered it.

[moonbeambucky]

A Whole New World (Part 3)

Pairing: Genie!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3590 Warnings: fluff, angst

Summary: Three wishes open up a whole new world of opportunities to a girl looking for a home but finds love along the way.

A/N: Remember this is an Aladdin AU set in a royal modern world with magic. Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 2 | A WHOLE NEW WORLD MASTERLIST

Two men were on the ground with their hands tied roughly behind their backs, uncomfortable as rough dirt and tiny pebbles dug into their knees. Apologies fell from their lips, begging for another chance. The bullets travel quickly, whizzing through the air in the blink of an eye, straight through their heads. Their bodies dropped to the ground with a thud and dust kicked up around them. 

“Now what?” Rumlow asked. 

From the shadows walked Pierce, hardened and angry. “We keep looking.” 

After years of research and more money spent on bumbling oafs than he’s liked, Pierce has finally found the infinity gauntlet. It’s been right under his nose this whole time, beneath a cave that was so close and yet still so far away thanks to the enchanted barrier that was keeping him out. 

It took a few times before he and Rumlow realized they weren’t getting through. Their men were expendable and frankly Pierce didn’t lose sleep over them but he was kept up at the thought of this opportunity going to waste. He heard the legend of the powerful stones housed in the gauntlet and wished to possess a genie for himself. 

Then came his saving grace. Sitwell found it on a trip back from Sokovia, a ring with the ability to allow the wearer to see the goodness inside of a person. The stone was a blackened crimson when pointed towards Rumlow, perhaps showing the color of all the blood he’s spilled, varying only slightly between the other men of the Royal Guard. Using it on himself is pointless, Pierce knows the actions he’s taken in his life, he doesn’t need a ring to show him how dark his soul is.

Rumlow’s men patrolled the streets, wearing the ring and keeping an eye out for any one that showed any type of white light, a diamond in the rough. They got excited when the ring was a blinding white when pointed at Sam Wilson as he left the homeless shelter but there was no point. Sam was the Prince’s closest friend, there was no way they would ever be able to convince him to get what they needed. 

Then they saw the girl who made the ring’s light shine so brightly they knew she had to be special. She would be able to make it through the invisible barrier that’s burned everyone else alive and she did, except those two idiots that Rumlow needs to dispose of didn’t secure the rope and let her fall to her death leaving his gauntlet behind.

“My men have been on patrol day and night. We are doing everything we can to find someone else and get back to the cave,” Rumlow assured.

Pierce’s lips were thin and pulled tight, “Good. I need that gauntlet!” 

“So you’re a princess?” Sam asked, his eyes gazing up and down at Y/N who he had last seen in a secondhand t-shirt and worn jeans he had given her, a far cry from this obvious designer dress that fit her like a dream.

Y/N felt as solid as a statue that could be found in the palace’s lovely gardens, so frozen in fear and shock she was unable to even blink.

“And all that was what? I’m guessing the Prince doesn’t know this isn’t the first time you’ve stayed at the palace.”

She isn’t sure how much time had passed when she was finally able to open her mouth. “I like getting to know the kingdom through the eyes of their most underserved citizens. If the Prince and I are meant to fall in love then Midgard would be my home and it would be my honor and duty to help everyone that lives in this wonderful place.” 

His head quirked as he listened to her story. Maybe she was telling the truth but it didn’t sit right with him. Sam remembered how dirty Y/N looked when they first met and not from the mud she had been pushed into. She was covered in the kind of dirt that Sam sees each week at the shelter, grime that has become a part of your skin, the type that’s tough and caked on so deeply that a storm can’t wash it away. It needed to be scrubbed hard, sloughing off a piece of you that tells a deeper story about your life.

Y/N finished by saying she did not expect Sam’s kindness and that he is a remarkable person for being so generous with the time he devotes towards helping others. “Midgard is lucky to have you, as is Prince Steven to have a wonderful friend.” She smiled softly at him, putting her hand on his shoulder as she thanked him again for what he did. 

There was movement in Sam’s eyes as he stared back at her and Y/N wondered if he believed a single word she said. Sam, a good man, a man that gave up his time to help a stranger because it was the right thing to do. Lying… that wasn’t right, but there was nothing else she could do.

The truth doesn’t make sense, Y/N can barely believe it herself. She’s worried they’ll find out and see right through her, someone will wake up and see reality for what it is. There is no N’Dyanajoans and she is no princess, and as soon as someone realizes that she’ll be dealt with before she has any chance to wish this mess away.

Sam was satisfied with her answer, somewhat. It was enough for him to back off for now though he is cautious and will keep his eye on Princess Y/N as much as he can. 

With another day passed Y/N’s crush on Prince Steve has grown. It’s all she can talk about and Bucky is so sick of hearing her go on and on. He’s been subjected to worse, listening to those before her indulging themselves by talking about their plans to take over cities, destroy kingdoms and rule. That gets tiring, the same spiel over and over. That was tedious but this… this is annoying. He almost prefers the peace that that Soul Stone offers, the quiet of nothingness around him; just the calm of a world on fire. 

“Prince Steve invited me out with him again. Can you believe it?!” 

Y/N opened the closet holding her belongings, running her hands through the various options she gets to choose from. Steve wanted to go horseback riding and all Y/N needed to do now was pick which top worked best with pants she laid out. 

She pulled out two casual tops, holding them up to herself, “This one matches Steve’s eyes, don’t you think?”

Bucky didn’t answer. If she wanted an opinion Bucky is not sure he’s the best person to give her that. He’s seen Y/N in torn clothes, covered in dirt and stained with the elements from the ground she slept on. Rags or silks, it didn’t matter; her beauty would always shine through. 

He scowled when Y/N put the other shirt back, keeping the one that supposedly matched the Prince’s eyes. Who cares? Bucky isn’t sure if his scoff was audible but when Y/N asked him to turn around he was glad to realize his disgust was only in his head. 

There was a brief flash of her reflection in the mirror, catching a glimpse at the bare skin of her stomach before Bucky shut his eyes despite his want to keep looking. He chalked it up to loneliness, his yearning for connection after being trapped for so long. His heart ached, an atrophied muscle that can’t wait to beat for someone again someday. 

“So I was thinking…” Her voice was muffled through the fabric as she pulled it over her head, “For my second wish I think I’d want to wait until Steve and I can fully assess Midgard’s needs together.”

“Well how long is that going to take?” 

There was a hint of frustration in his tone that Y/N picked up on. She bent down to zipper her boots, huffing with a bit of annoyance herself as she stood up. “I don’t know. It really depends on what he’ll share with me. I’m sure the closer we get then the more open he’ll be. Then we’d probably have to wait for the wedding and then– ” 

“Wedding?! How do you know he even likes you!?” Bucky shouted as he turned around to face her, forgetting he should have waited. He realized his actions, his mouth open and ready to spill apologies but thankfully she was fully dressed. 

“I think I can tell when someone likes me,” she scoffed. Y/N saw the way Bucky rolled his eyes at her answer and while her first instinct was to be upset and say something she held back, seeing the worry etched on his face. “If you’re worried about your wish you don’t have to be. You’ll still get your freedom, I just want to see what’s best for the kingdom first.”

She tried to reach her hand out to Bucky but he moved away quickly, pacing in front of her. “No, Y/N this is how it starts. First it’s ‘Sure Bucky, of course I’ll do it.’ Then you need more and more until you say ‘Sorry Bucky but I needed my wishes. You understand, right?’ And I do, because people are nothing but greedy and selfish!”

“So I’ll wish for more wishes!”

Bucky shouted back, “You can’t do that! You get three, that’s it!” He was breathing heavy, his chest heaving, nostrils flaring with anger as he stared back at her. Then the weight of her words sunk in. Bucky’s shoulders rounded, feeling a lump form in his throat, “The fact that you’re asking for that means you already made up your mind. You were never going to set me free.”

“That’s not true… Bucky!” Y/N pleaded, but in a flash he disappeared. 

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, letting her head hang as low as she felt. She didn’t see that her door was ajar, with Rumlow standing there having witnessed everything that just happened.

Sam paced in his kitchen. It wasn’t the normal stress of reviewing the menus for the upcoming days. He wasn’t worried about the pantry or missing ingredients. He didn’t even worry when the visiting nephew of May, his Sous Chef, knocked into a rack and ruined six dozen trays of pastries. He half heard the apology the poor boy gave because his mind could not stop thinking about Y/N.

Her explanation kept him up all night, sitting uneasily like a rock in his stomach. It didn’t make any damn sense. If she was pretending to be homeless then where was her staff? Sam hadn’t seen James anywhere and thinking about it further a princess would never be allowed to roam the streets without protection.

None of this felt right and Sam didn’t trust her. It’s a shame because he honestly liked the person he met, the girl who was down on her luck and needed a boost to get back out there. Whoever the real Y/N is not someone he wants anywhere near Steve.

“Just be careful,” he warned his friend, who was eager to meet with the princess again.

Steve laughed, flashing the top row of his perfect teeth as he looked at Sam. The warm glow of the setting sun brought out the hint of green within the blue of his eyes and Steve placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“I always am,” Steve said softly, coaxing a smile out of Sam who let his guard down for just a moment before his protective exterior came back.

Steve trusted Sam’s opinion, the two of them spending most nights together talking in the kitchen as Sam finished up his tasks for the evening. He could always be open with Sam, looking to him for guidance especially when he felt so alone. 

So many princesses had come in and out of the castle lately, and while he hoped to keep them as allies there hasn’t been a single person Steve felt connected to. Sam understood his fears, both of them longing for connection in somebody that knew them as well as they knew each other.

Once again Steve was warned to keep his guard up around Princess Y/N. Sam’s intuition was very good, and although he would never give him the satisfaction of saying that, Steve liked Y/N. She was nice and caring, smart and beautiful and he needed to see if whatever they had was going anywhere.

“I don’t think anyone’s good enough for me in your eyes Sam,” Steve teased.

Sam nodded as a satisfied smile pulled at his lips and their eyes met, holding each other’s gaze until Steve jokingly nudged Sam bringing out an even greater smile that stretched across his face. They fell into a comfortable silence with Steve growing slightly more serious as he assured Sam he would keep his advice in mind about the princess.

“Oh Steve, they’re beautiful!” Y/N awed at the two horses lined up, a beautiful chestnut colored horse with golden hair and beside it a taller horse one with a reddish brown coat, dark black hair and a splotch of white marking its nose.

Steve introduced her to the horses, the larger being his, a strong horse named Captain who gave Steve an affectionate nudge. Clementine was the name of the horse she would be riding. Y/N approached slowly from the side, remembering what she learned from a time long ago when her father took her horseback riding.

“Hello Clementine,” she said, softly rubbing her hands along her beautiful shiny coat. 

She felt a little intimidated by the horse, feeling its solid muscles beneath her palm. Her one experience with horse riding was not the greatest as the horse Loki seemed to be full of mischief. She wanted him to trot slowly along the path near the beach and instead he began racing. She had nearly fallen had it not been for a handler’s assistance to calm him down.  

With a shrug of her nerves she’s helped onto the saddle, hoping her experience with Clementine is less traumatic. She rode beside Steve with his Royal entourage following behind them on a scenic path through a wooded area that opened up toward a grassy cliff that overlooked the ocean.

Steve hopped off Captain and offered his hand to help Y/N, escorting her towards a table set up for them to watch as the sun began its slow descent past the horizon. A small tier of plates was set up beside them, arranged with a variety of bite sized food. 

Waves crashed along the shore, the gentle sound reaching Y/N’s ears and she tried to enjoy the calming silence but she couldn’t. She didn’t realize until it was gone how she had been using Steve’s conversation as a distraction, occupying her thoughts away from Bucky and how they left things.

“Is everything alright?” Steve took notice of the way Y/N stopped eating, her eyes drifting as far away as her mind as she became lost in her thoughts. He was not a stranger to doing the same. 

She nodded quickly, offering a barely there smile before she dropped the act. “I had a small argument with my advisor,” she admitted, letting out a shaky breath. 

Steve understood, he’s butted heads with Sir Alexander more often than not but it’s never affected him as deeply as he can see it does Y/N. She and Sir James seemed very close and Steve wondered about his position, feeling he seemed a little young to be a Royal Advisor and then he thought of Sam. He too was much younger than others in his position and Steve suspected perhaps something in the same vein occurred in Y/N’s kingdom. It would explain why she was so clearly upset.

“Sometimes we say things to the people that are closest to us even if they aren’t the words we intended. No one knows me better than Sam and I confess we’ve had plenty of arguments as well.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile that softened as he continued, “And there have been countless times where we’ve argued about many things. Disagreements can be settled, arguments diffused; what it really means is that deep down you care about each other and that you’re comfortable enough to be honest and open about how you feel.”

Y/N held back her tears, wanting to be honest and open to Steve with the truth. She felt terrible about everything, lying to him and Sam, not wishing Bucky his freedom right away. She shouldn’t have thought about the logistics, she should have wished herself a place to live and a place to work because those are all she really needed before finally giving Bucky what no one else has ever wanted to.

The sun was low as they finished up and Steve moved his chair closer to Y/N as they watched it disappear completely. As she looked out towards the sun Steve stared at her lips, nervously licking his own. When she caught his gaze she smiled and Steve began to slowly lean in towards her. 

He stole a hum off her breath as he kissed her, his lips connecting with hers and desperately seeking something. Steve wanted to feel something, a sign to convince himself that maybe this time things will feel right. He liked Y/N, certainly more than he liked any of the other Princesses but there was still something wrong. 

The ride back towards the Palace was quiet and that’s when Steve realized that kissing Y/N felt like kissing his sister. He cringed for a moment, shaking off the thought. He doesn’t want to offend her or her kingdom but he does hope they will become as strong an ally as the Kingdom of Wakanda is to Midgard. She’s already given so much to Steve’s kindgom, it would be a shame to prevent that from continuing.

Y/N had many things on her mind as well that night and as Steve said goodnight to Captain and Clementine, she asked if it would be alright to clear her head in the gardens. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and sort out why she couldn’t get Bucky off her mind.

Steve did not mind at all, and he bid her goodnight with a simple peck on her cheek. He asked Rumlow to watch over her which he gladly did, signaling to his men the moment the Prince left. With the coast clear he slowly approached Y/N from behind, knocking her out with a solid hit to her head, smiling as his men carried her away. 

Y/N awoke on the ground, with blades of grass tickling her cheek and an ache in her jaw from the gag tied roughly around her mouth. She squirmed to get up but her hands and feet were bound. When Rumlow noticed she was conscious he had his men roughly lift her to her knees and Y/N realized she was back at the cliffs she and Prince Steve just dined at.

“Someone wants to talk to you,” Rumlow said, striding over to her, brandishing a gun in his hand that threatened her into continued silence as he pulled down the gag.

Behind her she heard the crunch of boots walking on leaves and twigs, and from the corner of her eye a figure came forward.

Sir Alexander stood in front of her, with an aggressive tone she had yet to hear until now, “Where’s the gauntlet?” 

Y/N was lucky her face already showed signs of shock as Sir Alexander stepped out, it helped to mask the surprise she felt as he mentioned the gauntlet. How did he know? 

Rumlow tugged the gag down roughly and she coughed, clearing her throat. “I don’t have it.” She was firm in her tone, feeling her necklace still tucked safely into her shirt and so far no one’s noticed. 

Pierce leaned down to talk to her but made a point to still be above her level; this street rat needed to know she was beneath him. 

“I’ll ask again, where is the gauntlet?”

“I said I don’t have it.” Her words were sharp and Pierce felt each one like a cut to his skin. 

His hand left his side and before she realized what was happening Y/N was dealing with the sting of a smack against her cheek. “Search her room,” Sir Alexander ordered, and two men with clunky armor ran back towards the palace; the echo of jostling metal fading in the distance.

Y/N said nothing in return. Go ahead, search my room, she thought. She knows they won’t find anything. Bucky and the gauntlet were safe with her, except Y/N was anything but safe.

If she wasn’t going to give up the gauntlet’s hiding spot then there was no need for her. Pierce nodded his head and soon Rumlow put the gag back in her mouth. She screamed a muffled cry for help as two men approached her. One tied a ball and chain to her legs and the other lifted her to her feet.

She squirmed to break free but it was no use. Before she knew it Y/N was sent over the edge of the cliff and there was nothing she could do but fall. She sank like an anchor into the ocean watching the light of the moon become extinguished as the darkness engulfed her. 

PART 4

[bontenten]

Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins! 

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you. 

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!” 

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit. 

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead. 

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.

[crazywritertomboy1224]

(I feel you in the empty inbox too 😢 I have a deal for you, I send you this kirishima request since imma kirishima simp and you have something to write about, deal?)

How about this:

Kirishima and his girlfriend managed to sneak out of the UA campus for a night city date. They were all nervous about being caught, but those fears fade away when they started having fun. Like they went to the arcade were the tried their best to kick each others ass. (you can add whatever else you want to the date). They were having so much fun they almost lost track of time, then tried to sneak back to the dorms without being noticed, but obviously, they failed.

(if you don't mind I'll keep sending you requests :p)

I've been WAITING for a Kiri one! So happy to finally have found another Kiri simp! Sorry this one took so long, I had to get it just right, yk? (Plus I've been kinda busy ;-;) Anyways, hope you like it (and hope it brings Kiri justice)! (Also yes please keep sending in asks!!) As always, stay safe and hydrated and don't forget to eat! <3

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

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

TW: cussing

Genre: Fluff, romantic

Word count: 1579

You cracked your door open, peeking out to make sure no one was around. After you assured the coast was clear, you slipped out, closing the door with a small click behind you.

You stood outside your dorm room, waiting patiently. A nearby door creaked open and you shushed him frantically. “Shut up! God, you’re loud.”

He just laughed quietly, pulling you into a hug and pressing his nose into your hair. You sighed in contentment, having missed these times when it was just the two of you.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and you both tiptoed down the hall, took the stairs down, and opened and closed the front doors, all with barely any noise.

Once outside, you turned around to see if you could see any lights turning on, just checking no one had heard you.

“It’s fine, babe. No one saw or heard us. We’re good, now let’s go!”Eijiro grabbed your hand and led you off campus and over to a nearby arcade.

He ran ahead of you and held the door open for you. “M’lady?” he says, a smile playing on his lips as he swung his hand in a semi-circle around, over his head, and under his other arm.

You grinned and walked in, giving him a cheek kiss as you passed. “Thhaannnkkk youuuu,” you said, drawing out your words dramatically.

He giggled and followed you in, trying to fight you to be the first to the counter. You elbowed him in the ribs, temporarily pushing him out of the running.

You ran up to the counter and slammed your hands down on the old, faded linoleum. “Two pleas- DAMMIT EIJIRO!” you screamed as Eijiro came up behind you and pulled you away by your waist.

He slid the money across the counter and turned back to you with a huge smile plastered across his face. You growled under your breath and walked up to him, looking straight up at his face, arms crossed.

“What, pebble?” he asked, tugging your hand up to the counter so the cashier could give you your band and cards.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that I feel bad for you.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m gonna kick your ass.” You smirked, dashing off to find the first game.

You skidded to a stop in front of the only available skee-ball machine and swiped your card. Eijiro did the same on the one paired with yours. It beeped and the plastic shield above the balls slid back.

You picked up the first one and rolled it, landing it in the outer ten-point ring, Eijiro managing to make it in the twenty-point cylinder. You growled to yourself, knowing you’d have to up your game to beat him.

He glanced over at you and flashed you a grin as he rolled his second ball, making it into the ten-point this time.

You roll it with so much angry force that it actually makes it into the one-hundred slot. You freeze for a second, registering what just happened before Eijiro nudges you with his elbow.

“Great shot, y/n!” He beams a huge smile at you and you can’t help but smile back and hug him.

“Thanks, babe!” You roll another one, scoring a ten, Eijiro rolling a fifty.

“One minute left!” The machine squealed out.

You both made a show of quickly rolling all of the balls down, not really caring what holes they landed in. You ended up with 380, Eijiro with 370.

You met him halfway as your machines printed out your tickets and he wrapped you in a hug, breathing in your ear. “Good job, pebble.” He congratulated you.

“Thanks, you too," you replied, ripping your tickets off and shoving them into your back pocket.

“What’s next?” you ask him, since you picked the first game.

“Umm, air hockey? I’m not horrible at it,” he suggests, pointing to the left.

“Sounds good," you reply and he leads the way over.

You take your positions at either side of the table and swipe your cards. You place your hand on your paddle as Eijiro does the same. The puck falls out on his side and he places it in front of his paddle, swatting it over to you.

You swat it back at him, aiming for his pocket. You missed and he deflected it, shooting it back toward your pocket with a little wrist flourish.

You tried to defend it and send it back at him, but you missed and it landed straight in your pocket. You sighed as you grabbed it and placed it back on the table, cracking your neck.

Eijiro laughed. “Why- why are you-” He doubled over in laughter. “Why are you- why are you cracking your- popping your- your neck?” He asked, stuttering from laughter.

You glared at him playfully. “Because I’m about to beat your ass.”

His face suddenly went serious. “No way.” He deflected your shots and sent the puck spinning into your pocket time after time after time until the buzzer went off.

He won… 26-1. He laughed and hugged you. “I love you!” He said, grinning. You sighed in acceptance but were unable to stay mad at him.

“Why do you have to be so cute?” You mock-complained, pressing your face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Alright, let’s go. What’s next?” You stood up on your tiptoes and looked around, eyes scanning and mapping out the whole place.

“Hmm… bumper cars?” You suggested, lowering yourself back to the ground and shrugging.

Eijiro reached out and grabbed your hand. “Great idea! Let’s go.”

You dashed across the building and joined the line. You checked the time on your watch. “Oh, shit. Kiri, it’s already two am!”

“Oh shit.” He flipped his wrist to check his own watch and his eyes widened. “Okay, after this, we go back.” You nodded.

After what felt like forever, you were at the front of the line. You showed the nice girl your bands and she let you in. You sat down in the [____] one, your favorite color, while Eijiro chose the red one.

You zoomed around the track, waving pageant-style at him as he hunched over the wheel in the little bumper car that seemed way too small for him. You laughed, throwing your head back as you finished in third place all in all, first between you two.

You stood up, brushing off your clothes, and walked over to help a struggling Kirishima out of his doll-sized car. “Need some help?” You asked, chickling as you extended your hand to him. He took it with an annoyed face but you could see in his eyes that he was joking.

You pulled him up by his hand, your fingers lacing together by instinct once he rose completely out. He wrapped you in a hug as you waited in line to leave.

“Ugh, bottle-necking us like this isn’t cool.” He muttered against your hair, annoyed at the people who designed it with only one exit gate.

You giggled against his shoulder and pull away, leading you out in a hurry. “SHIT!” You yelled. “That took an hour!” Eijiro froze in terror, staring at his phone.

“Fuck. Kaminari and Mina have been texting me.” He said, tapping the screen.

“Dammit. Jirou and Momo have been texting and calling me.” You replied, opening the messages to tell them you’re fine.

You finished texting before him and grabbed the front of his shirt, guiding him out of the building and back to the dorms.

You pulled the doors open and saw Mina and Momo. They were sitting on the couch, sipping tea. Mina looked over as you two walked through the doors. “Care to explain where you’ve been all night?” She asked, raising an eyebrow over her mug.

“Uh- we were with… Denki and Jirou,” Kirishima tries to explain. You nod, thinking you might be able to get away with it.

Denki and Jirou pop their heads over the back of the other couch. Mina looks over with a pointed expression. “Care to try again?”

“We wanted to get away for a bit, just the two of us and have some fun before finals. We were at the arcade down the street.” You blurted out, ducking your head in shame.

“Why didn’t you invite us? We could’ve all hung out!” They exclaimed, clearly riveted that you didn’t invite them.

“Like we said, we just wanted some alone time. Sorry guys, maybe next time?” Eijiro responded, placing a hand around your waist and pulling you close.

Mina seemed satisfied with that answer and sent you off to bed while the four of them stayed downstairs, doing whatever the hell they were doing.

Before you went into your dorm, Eijiro pulled you close and smothered you in a hug. You pulled away, tired, but he gripped at the back of your hips and pressed a sweet, loving kiss to your lips and another to your forehead.

“Goodnight princess. I love you.” He whispered into your ear, hugging you tight one last time.

“Goodnight my manly man. I love you too.” You kissed his neck, which was the highest part you could reach.

You both turned around and went into your separate dorm rooms to sleep in your own separate beds that night. You fell asleep smiling and all the second thoughts you’d ever had slipped away. This was exactly what you needed.

[storiesabouthumanandthings]

Pebble Problems

After Sokka was told his proposal necklace looked like Momo made it, he decided to up his game. The following month he spent just watching the Otter Penguins to see how they selected their stones. Most pf the stones were just smooth and round, which is what he had used, but he noticed a specific stone was preferred.

 Sokka then spent the next month combing the shore to figure out what made some stones better than others. Colour seemed to be the big deciding factor. The problem was every time he saw a good stone, an otter penguin saw it first and took it away, or when Sokka was able to get the stone first, the otter penguin would steal it from him.

 Occasionally, he had to make cover stories for why he had scratches and bite marks or when his coat was torn. After many months and many unsuccessful trips to the shore, he was finally able to get his hands on the perfect stone. It shined brightly in the light and the colors seemed to shift and move. Sokka took some leather he had stored. He then had Toph help, using some of the meteor metal, to make a small clasp to hold the stone.

 Once all the pieces were together, the last action was to engrave the stone. He knew he only had one chance at this and used sketches before finalizing his design. He combined the Fire and Water symbols. The outer rim had the flames stretching out. In the center, where the normal circle swirl in the fire symbol was replaced with the water symbol. It looked like the Water was surrounded by fire.

Sokka wrapped the necklace tight in the softest furs he could find. Sokka held onto the necklace for what felt like ages, waiting for the perfect moment to propose. Waiting to be alone so it was just the two of them. He finally found his moment; on the night of the full moon, on the day of the summer solstice. It was perfect, when the moon was at the fullest and the day was at it’s longest.

“I got you a gift, to commemorate when our journey finally ended the 100 year war. And hopefully with this, start a new journey,” stated Sokka with a shaky voice. The gift was accepted but no further talk about it happened that night.

 As Zuko was walking through town the next day, alone for the first time, he could hear the whispers and feel the stares of the villagers. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, hoping they weren’t afraid of him as he was a fire bender and his last visit was very pleasant. He eventually ran into Katara who ran up to him upon seeing him.

 She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side, “Congratulations! I am so happy for you.”

 Zuko raised an eyebrow, “uh, thank you?”

 “So spill. Who is it?”

 Zuko stops walking, “Who is what?”

 Katara sees the confusion on Zuko’s face and quickly pieces together what is going on, “You haven’t heard people whispering about you?!” she scream whispered.

 Zuko nodded slowly, “Well, yeah, but not what they’re saying. I thought they remembered the last time I was here without you guys around me. With the ship and fighting and searching for an old man that was actually a kid.”

 Katara gasped, thinking to herself that Zuko has no clue, “Zuko, I need you to think hard. What does your necklace remind you of?”

 Zuko thought for a moment, “Well, it kind of looks like yours?”

 Katara nodded, “and what does that mean?”

 Zuko thought hard and was silent for a moment before shrugging, “it’s a family treasure?”

 “Why would you think that?”

 “Well, when were trapped in the cave, I remember you mentioned you received yours from your mother.”

 “uh-huh,” Katara nodded, trying to lead Zuko to the answer.

 “So since I go this from Sokka, I assumed it was a family treasure. To show I am a part of the water tribe now?”

 Katara gasped and turned red, shaking her head.

 “If it’s not that, the what is it?” Zuko was very confused.

 Katara just walked away, shaking her heard, “no, nope, no, uh uh, nope, not my job, no, no, ……” continuing to talk to herself as she walked away.

 At that same moment, Sokka rounded the corner. Katara pointed a sharp, threatening finger at Sokka, shaking it in his face, “You Idiot! Why didn’t you? You didn’t tell? Why I!” only able to get partial thoughts out.

 Sokka stood there with with his hands up, “I don’t know what is going on but I didn’t do it.”

 Katara waved her arms, causing the snow to form around Sokka in a pillar, then pushed it towards Zuko, “Explain! Now!”

 Sokka began to stutter, “Well, it’s, like, um, this. Katara, what happened was-”

Katara, cutting him off screaming, “Not me! Him!” and stomped away.

 Sokka called back, “At least release me from the snow.”

 Katara flipped him off, “He will unfreeze you if he feels like it.”

 Sokka and Zuko stared at each other in silence for a while for Zuko spoke, “So I guess you need to explain something to me?”

 Sokka blushed, “I guess but can you unfreeze me first. This is really cold.”

 Zuko crossed his arms, “uh, no.”

 “No?!”

“no”

“Why not!?”

 “Well since I got up this morning, the whole town has been talking about me”

Sokka blushed brighter as Zuko continued, “I thought it was cause I am a fire bender but Katara made it clear that it’s about this gift you gave me.”

 Sokka nodded and turned his gaze away from Zuko, “Yeah probably.”

 “So what is so special about this necklace? I thought is was a family gift, like Katara’s, but she pointed out it’s nothing like that. So what’s the truth? Is this one of your pranks?”

 “What? A prank? Nooo, no, no, no, no. It’s nothing like that!”

 “Then what’s the truth.”

 Sokka mumbled to himself, “I thought you knew, I thought I was clear.”

 “Sokka! Tell me the truth, or you’re going to stay frozen.”

 Sokka looked up to Zuko, “Well, it’s kind of like a family gift.”

 “What is that supposed to mean?”

 “Well it’s a gift you give when you ask someone to join your family…..”

 Zuko nodded slowly, “To show that I am accepted in the Water Tribe? But Katara said it wasn’t that.”

 “Well, it is and isn’t like that.” Sokka again began to mumble to himself, “why is this so hard?”

Sokka breathed deep before continuing, “The necklace is used to ask you into my family….”

Zuko nodded slowly but still confused.

“.…as in marriage. I was trying to propose to last night. But I didn’t do it right. I wasn’t clear enough. I thought I was and I thought you knew what the necklace was about because we found out Katara’s necklace was from Pakku proposing to Gran Gran and you were there but not for that part but I didn’t remember that. So I thought you knew but clearly you didn’t and I must have embarrassed you. You have been walking around with everyone staring and you didn’t know why. You probably would have said no-”

 As Sokka was spiraling, fast speaking, and freaking out, Zuko was blushing bright, causing him to heat up and melt the snow. Neither of them noticed the Sokka was freed until Zuko leaned in and kissed Sokka, “Yes, Sokka, I will join your family.”

Sokka smiled as tears of joy welled up in his eyes. “I mean, they literally can not be worse than my family,” Zuko joked, trying to break the tension.

 Sokka laughed and grabbed Zuko’s hands tight, “Now hold me so I can warm up.”

 As they walked back into the street, Katara had gathered their friends and most of the town.

 The whole town stood silent until Sokka raised their clasped hands. The town cheered and people began to scurry in different directions.

 Zuko, now again confused, walked over to Katara, “Now what is happening?”

 Katara rolling her eyes, “Well since he didn’t explain everything!” pointing sharply at Sokka, “now that it’s completely official and public, the town will make a feast for the new couple. A heads up would have been nice, Sokka.”

 Sokka smiled, blushing, rubbing his head, “Well I didn’t know when I was gonna do it, it was spontaneous.”

Katara walked away, sighing, “You’re the biggest idiot.”

 Sokka watched her walk away. Zuko grabbed Sokka’s hand, giving it a small squeeze, “That’s rough, buddy.” They laughed together and kissed.

[skips-is-asleep]

fic prompt: while on the meteor, dave tries to convince Karkat that he can cook even tho his cooking knowledge stops at Kraft Macaroni. it's like a cooking show if that cooking show were left unattended for most of its childhood. rose stands by inwardly just fuckin living for this shit as Dave swears to god humans eat this

I almost didn’t do this one but this is my first ever request and also I'm not a fucking quitter so

You hate living here. You hated living here when it was you and a bunch of your friends, and you hated living here when the threat of a murder was around every corner, and you hate living here now that you’re with a couple of strangers that look weird and behave weird and say weird things.

Not that they didn’t say weird things before you started living with them, the two of them had that shit on lock. But now you have to hear it come out of their mouths, and into your brain where you’re forced to visualize some of the things they say.

At first, it was kind of nice? In that new-haircut way, where you’re not confident in it, but you can’t really change it so your only option is to just wear it until it becomes you’re new normal.

You have not reached that point in your new hivemates yet, unfortunately.

You’re not friendly with the humans. Not in the same way you are over text, at least. It’s always been difficult making friends in person, even the friends that you spent your entire life with had to live with a little bit of shunning from you simply because you’re not used to sharing your space with other living beings. It’s weird.

When the Strider human approaches you (and you call him that because you think it’s fucking weird to address someone by just a one-syllable name, and last names are more comfortable than just refusing to address him, not to mention rude) it only spells bad energy. Rancid vibes as he puts it.

You’re curled up on the sofa, in the recreation center, reading the same book you found in a decrypted hallway a few weeks ago. The cover of the book is so smudged and ripped, there’s no cover really, and some of the pages are torn out, but it’s kind of fun imaging what the missing pages had in them. Strider smacks something on the table in front of you and it makes your whole body jolt and hair stand up on end as your claws grip the pages and tear them even more. Great, that’s like a whole six more words you’ll have to make up later.

As you peel the parchment off your fingertips, you finally look up at him. You do your best to look annoyed, but you know you’re just tired. He’s got that look on his face. The one that says--

“Check this shit out.”

Good, god, yeah, that look. The thing he slammed on your table was a box, small, probably less than ten inches tall, and thing, only about an inch wide and deep, and a bright fucking blue with ugly bright yellows to contrast it. The design alone makes your lip turn slightly. “Whatever the fuck you want to bother me with this time, I guarantee I don’t have the patience for it. And I usually have the patience for it.”

“Total lie, but it’s okay, I forgive you, ‘cause this is gonna blow your fucking alien fucking troll mind, dude. This,” And he holds up the box, suddenly you feel as though you’re being sold something and you really really don’t want it. “is a Kraft dinner, and it’s called kraft cause it was crafted by the straight-up amazing ass food gods, not us ‘cause we’re different.”

You don’t want to talk. You feel like talking will encourage him to keep going, but he keeps going regardless as if you aren’t even there.

“I’m under the impression that you don’t know what this is, or even what’s inside of it, so lemme give you the tour.” Strider opens up the box and decaptulouges what appears to be an entire fucking metal basin, cooking surface, and a whole fucking sink. It’s...food. You suppose. Considering you’re not entirely certain what humans classify as ‘dinner’, it does not seem to be the same as what you do.

Strider dumbs the box into the metal basin, and out clatters little hard....let’s be honest here, they’re tubes. Tiny tubes.

“Is--” You start, and try to reach forward to touch the tubes. Strider smacks your hand away with a sharp slap and you hiss and pull back. “Dude, fuck off, I'm doing a bit here. Keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times, you know the drill.”

“What drill! There’s no d--I don’t want to be part of your stupid bit! All you ever do is run around with your little fucking god powers and make shit do other shit and turn shit into other shit and make a mess and who has to clean it up?? Karkat does, Karkat cleans up everything and he never gets a single please, or thank you or anything! And now you want me to watch you eat plastic and pretend it’s food?? I’m not falling for it, especially not this time, you blabbering, annoying fuckhead.”

The noises he makes, which you think are meant to pacify you, sound kind of like a tea kettle that’s only just starting to boil, a soft hiss/shush noise while tapping you on the shoulder. “Just trust me on this one, it’ll all be worth it.”

Fuck it, what else are you gonna do? Count pebbles??

After you seem like you’re going to allow him to continue, Strider fills the basin with water, and puts it on the cooking apparatus, turning the thing on and mumbling while he puts on his weird little show.

“Water’s gettin’ hot and it’s ‘bout to get hotter, fill it to the top, make sure it doesn’t splatter--no that’s fucking stupid, scratch that, reverse, uh, actually fast forward...” There’s his dumb little powers again. Before your very eyes, the water’s boiling. You peak over the top curiously and the little plastic tubes are big, pale and bendy. They peak over the water just a little, not completely submerged. He conveniently opens up his sylladex again and pulls out...a bowl with holes on it??

“You didn’t salt the water, Dave, you’re supposed to salt the water.” You peak over your shoulder and see Lalonde, the other human, in the doorway. She’s leaning her hip against the framing, arms crossed and smiling. How long has she been there. “Whatever, it doesn’t even make it heat up faster, who care.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m absolutely not.” He then dumps the pasta out of the basin into the bowl, all the water spilling out into the sink. You’ll admit, now your interest is piqued. The tubes are soft now! Just from cooking in water??

You’ve decided your interest is un-piqued. Even as Lalonde continues to make fun of her human counterpart for not putting human salt rocks into a big pot of water where they would surely sink to the bottom and not add any experience to soft squish tubes. But you don’t say anything, because you’re tired of being made fun of for not understanding human cultures. Mouth shut.

Lalonde scoffs, baffled. “It’s for seasoning, Dave.”

“It’s cheese, Rose, it has all the flavors it needs!”

As they bicker, you see Strider move the tubes from the bowl to the basin again, stove off and he picks out a little white pouch, opens it and dumps it in. You watch with astonishment and disgust. Those tubes looked perfectly suitable!!

The two of them look to you, Rose with surprise but Dave keeps the same face on regardless. Strider has stopped stiring, with the big ol’ spoon he took out as well, which was changing the color of the tubes and making them into this gross mush that looked a lot like the insides of some animals back home. You almost gag, but manage to hold it back just enough. “I know it’s probably weird to you, but I swear it’s good, here gimme a sec.”

“Listen, bro, I'm basically a fucking M and C expert, I use to eat this shit for weeks on end.”

“Yes, and then you’d faint on your keyboard from iron deficiency.”

“That was one time, and it wasn’t even because of that, it was because of something else completely.”

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!” You sit up and shout, now kind of angry that Dave ruined perfectly good tubes and was acting like nothing was even weird about it.

You’ll admit you’re curious. So when he starts to pull out a little spoon, and get you some on it, it makes a little squelch noise and you do gag at that, and he holds it up for you to take. You do. And you stare at it for a really really long time. With as much care and precision as you can manage, you take one little tube. out and eat it.

It doesn’t...taste like anything. Not strongly of anything at least. You almost wonder what steps occurred to bring this sort of thing into existence. Not only on earth but here, on the meteor. You don’t say anything, just handing the spoon back to Strider. It’s the most polite way you can think of.

Still, he asks, “it’s good isn’t it?”

[sunshine-shitposts]

ALRIGHT. First selfship piece is going UP. I got some big inspiration from @amethystsoda and @dongiovannaswife so like... love you guys 💖💖 no stinky vampire man... yet. Hoping to get the next part up within the next week.

Dust in the Wind—Part 1

It had been a while since Jotaro had been to the Dallas Speedwagon Foundation Headquarters, and it had since moved locations to outside downtown… somewhere.

It was a damn pain if you asked him.

Dallas was a mess to move around in; you were better off on foot, since there were so many one-way streets. His grandfather had explained, the first time that he had brought his grandson to the Foundation in Dallas, that it was probably because car size in America outgrew the more narrow streets that Dallas began with. Jotaro himself didn't really understand it until he saw for himself: Texans loved big cars. There was an astonishing amount of pick up trucks here, compared to other places he'd been.

He wasn't very familiar with Texas, he had to admit. He'd visited Galveston and Corpus Christi more often for marine work, though he had to admit to himself that they weren't his favorite places in terms of the ocean; this side of the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico tended to have a lot of sediment in its water. When he stayed at a house in a place called Crystal Beach for a while, he remembered how searching for hermit crabs with a colleague was rather annoying due to the brown murkiness of the water.

The houses on stilts were quite novel, though.

...That was enough reminiscing.

Jotaro huffed, figuring he could just go to the old location to ask for assistance—it was still being used by the Foundation despite it not being the main building anymore—when a bright voice floated through the air.

"Hey, mom. Y'got everything?"

"Yes, but it's a lot, you know, they turned in projects… can you open the trunk?"

"'Course, no problem. Gimme a sec…"

Jotaro looked up from his map, seeing a young woman helping her mother begin to load several large rolled up cardboard tubes into the back seat of a small blue hatchback.

The woman was dressed comfortably, a boon in the blossoming Texas heat, with a black wide-brimmed hat and minty-colored sunglasses and a lazy smile on her face. She couldn't have been more than an inch over five feet, and her wavy purple hair fluttered in the wind. What didn't look conducive to staying cool were the dark, full-length leggings under her jean shorts or the knee-length, full sleeve knit cardigan, but he knew what it felt like to have a comfort jacket. Her mother, several inches taller than her, was well (albeit colorfully) dressed with a lanyard and ID swinging around her neck, and a mobile folding cart filled with books, folders, and cardboard tubes. The mother's hair, a light silvery-blonde that fell around her shoulders, made Jotaro wonder if they were actually related, but he admitted to himself that stranger things do happen, and hair dye did exist.

Jotaro hummed to himself and looked back at the map as a gust of wind between the tall buildings sent papers scattering, the mother crying out in dismay.

"Sunnie–!!"

"Don't worry mom, I got it."

Jotaro watched the paper of his map flutter suddenly and unexpectedly, swooping in the opposite direction that it had been previously. It was such a sudden change that Jotaro looked back up from the map, only to see all the papers floating through the air to finally gather into the young woman's outstretched hand.

"I'll never ever understand how you can do that," the mother said, her voice equal parts thankfulness and bafflement, "And I don't think I ever will."

"You keep saying that, y'know," her daughter laughed, easily hefting the heavy folding cart into the trunk of her car.

"I know!! But it's true, it's like magic! But real!!"

Jotaro focused his gaze on the young woman.

Stand users are drawn to each other.

When the two women were nearly finished loading all of the mother's things into the car, he approached them, trying to relax his intense demeanor as much as possible. The woman's mother reminded him a lot of his own, and he didn't want to frighten her.

"Excuse me," he asked, fishing around in a pocket inside his coat to pull out his notebook. The two women turned to look at him, the mother's eyebrows raising as she made an 'oooh' noise. Her daughter's expression, however, was completely unreadable behind her large sunglasses, but Jotaro felt her gaze. Her carefree attitude had suddenly disappeared, and he knew that she was likely sizing him up. He wondered if she, too, felt the same weird restlessness in her own chest. "I was wondering if you could tell me how to get here," he continued. Her mother leaned in to see the address written on the notebook's page, then lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Sunnie! He's asking about the Speedwagon Foundation!"

Immediately, the daughter seemed to relax, looking at the page as well. "Oh, no shit?" After another second, her eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. "Oh! No shit!!"

"You know of it?" Jotaro asked, putting the notebook back into the chest pocket.

"Know of it? I'm heading there, after I drop mom back off at the house," the younger woman laughed, extending her arm for a handshake. "I'm Sunnie Green, recently employed by the Foundation. Good to meet you, Mr…?"

"Jotaro Kujo," he replied, accepting the shake and subsequently drowning her small hand in his own. Her shake was strong and firm and confident in a pleasantly unexpected way.

The second he said his name, though, a wry grin broke out on her face.

"No fuckin' way," Sunnie said, surprised, "I have heard some stories. Good to meet you in the flesh. Foundation's been expecting you."

Jotaro grunted. He knew that after his 'trip' to Egypt all those years ago, people at the Foundation liked to gossip about him, and he had hoped that those tales and rumors had died down, but it seemed that they'd persisted. He wondered if they'd only gotten more wild with time. "Well. That aside, if you could point me in the right direction, it would be much appreciated."

"Well, uh, it's not quite in Dallas anymore? It's a bit away from here, so uh…" Sunnie trailed off, her face scrunching up in thought.

"Sunnie," her mom stage-whispered, "Sunnie, you should drive him there."

"Huh-whaa?" Sunnie looked at her mom, eyes wide, then nodded like a lightbulb went off over her head, crossing her arms and grinning, "Yeah!! Yeah, that just makes sense. That makes so much sense!!"

"That won't be necessary–" Jotaro began, but Sunnie shot him a confident grin.

"Don't be silly! This is the perfect solution. It's late in the day, getting a taxi or rideshare there will cost you money you don't need to spend, I mean come on. I'm right here, dude. I gotcha." The smaller woman laughed and put the final bag of papers in the trunk of her car, shutting the door. "I'm not taking no for an answer. And mom?" she looked at her mom expectantly, who smiled widely.

"I'll sit in the back!" She beamed before looking back up at Jotaro, "That way you don't have to sit with all the projects."

Without giving him the chance to offer otherwise, Mrs. Green made her way to the back seat, opening the door and getting in. Jotaro breathed a quiet sigh, gathering himself before he walked to the front passenger's door and opened it. He did not miss Sunnie's triumphant smirk before he ducked inside. To his surprise, it was actually roomy inside the small car. At least, roomy enough to be comfortable for him. There was some music softly playing over the speakers and a water bottle in one of the cupholders, and dangling off of the rearview mirror were some small pom poms and repurposed cell phone charms, several of them Pokémon. In a little storage area under the main console, he saw a lanyard with an ID decorated with the Speedwagon Foundation logo on it.

Sunnie got in the car as well, buckling up and shifting out of park, turning smoothly into the street when it was safe. 

"I'm excited for you to go to the new Foundation Headquarters, Mr. Kujo," Mrs. Green chirped, hands patting her bright red jeans excitedly, "Some of my former students helped decorate the interior! I'm very proud of their work."

"Mom's an interior design professor," Sunnie laughed, "Used to get hired for private homes and hospitals and stuff. There was that one home on White Rock with the spiral staircase? Fucking dope."

"I still talk to them," her mom said airily, "Sometimes I stop by for cookies."

Jotaro didn't quite know how to respond. The two women were very open and friendly and it was making him feel… strange. Was it just a Texan thing in general? Joseph had once mentioned 'Southern Hospitality'. Then again, who could say? The old man liked to talk for the sake of talking sometimes.

He caught a minute glance from Sunnie, who then leaned her head back, a lazy grin on her face.

"So mom, what're all those projects in the back?" She asked, "No balsa wood models this time? That was a nightmare to transport."

"But those were group projects and they were light weight! These plans are deceptively heavy and there are so many–"

As Carol rambled on about the projects sitting around her, Jotaro found himself happy that Sunnie seemingly sensed his discomfort and acted on his behalf to divert her mother's attention. He zoned out, his mind stuck on the impending meeting—one that he had never imagined he would have to have, and one that was admittedly making him feel a little sick in his stomach.

The red brick house they arrived at was in a quiet little subdivision about 40 minutes in traffic away from Downtown Dallas, lined with large trees and with a nice pond. The houses were all two stories, most driveways accessible from the street, and the summer warmth and ample sunshine had the lawns dotted with flowers of many colors. Sunnie parked the car in front of the pebbled sidewalk to the house, and the large dark blue front door opened. A salt-and-pepper haired man with a moustache walked out, wearing an old shirt and jeans and carrying a duffle bag. Sunnie and Mrs. Green got out of the car, and Jotaro decided to get out as well.

The man, presumably Mr. Green, seemed surprised. "I doubt one of your students turned him in," he laughed nonetheless. Mrs. Green giggled.

"No, no! He's with the Foundation!" Mrs. Green explained, and her husband rolled his eyes.

"I was kidding, Carol," he said, voice deadpan. Sunnie snickered.

"We found him looking for the new campus downtown, so I offered to take him there. Speaking of, we gotta get this stuff outta the Spaceship so we can head out," Sunnie turned to Jotaro, "This won't take too long–"

"I'll help," he told her, "Least I can do."

Sunnie paused, pursed her lips, and nodded.

With four sets of hands, unloading took no time at all, but Jotaro once again noted that Sunnie seemed stronger than her smaller size let on. At the end of it, her dad handed her the duffle bag, which she tossed in the back seat.

"See you in a few days," she said, hugging her parents, "Don't get too wild without me around."

"Darn. We'll have to cancel that crazy party," her dad grinned, and she smacked him on the arm.

Jotaro got back into the car with Sunnie, and she drove them out of the subdivision.

"…Do you live with your parents?" Jotaro asked, a sudden burst of curiosity getting the better of him. Sunnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second, then turned her gaze back to the road as she flipped on her turn signal.

"I left my husband recently," she said, smoothly turning onto the service road, and Jotaro suddenly felt incredibly awkward, "Got out of the apartment as fast as I could. Grabbed a few things, said goodbye to the dog, and fucking split. It was really sudden, and since I don't have that much money to my name and my husband currently is in control of my finances, living with my parents is easier. I'm actually in my childhood room right now, when I stay at the house." She laughed dryly, merging onto the turnpike.

"Mm," Jotaro simply responded, and Sunnie laughed.

"It's not weird, dude, come on. Chill," she said, passing a particularly large eighteen wheeler and switching two lanes to the left, "I mean, it's kinda weird. But it's fine. I don't mind. I've heard a lot about you from some of the other employees already, I think it's fair that you know about me, if just a little." She looked at him briefly, eyes twinkling. "You're kind of a hot topic at the Foundation, you know."

Jotaro shifted in his seat and looked out his window.

"Which brings me to an important point," she continued, "I know why you're here."

Immediately, he looked back at her, eyes narrowing. That was supposed to be need-to-know information.

"I'm a Liaison for the Speedwagon Foundation. That's my official title, but I have a very specific job, and he is why you're here."

"You mean you–"

"Yes, and I'm aware of your history with him. Well, with the one from here." Her finger tapped the steering wheel pointedly. "I know you don't like him, that you have reason to not like him, and I know you won't like this one. But I'm imploring you not to start shit with him when you see him, okay? I've told him not to start shit with you so, you know, if you would be so kind."

Jotaro audibly gritted his teeth. This was just his fucking luck, running into that bastard's babysitter. "What makes you think he'd listen to you?" He growled.

"I don't know? He's been cool with me so far." She snorted. "I mean, he's an absolute piece of work, but it's been alright. No worse than teaching a class full of preschoolers can get on a bad day, but I did have to… establish that I can take care of myself against him."

"And how did you do that?"

"I stole his air," she said simply, "Made it impossible for him to breathe."

"Have you ever done that before? To someone else."

Her mouth fidgeted, eyes unreadable. They passed under the tollway in silence, broken by soft, ghastly wind chimes as a shimmering turquoise hand with a swirling wing shape on the wrist partially manifested on her shoulder, squeezing lightly before vanishing.

"You'll have to buy me a few drinks before I talk about that." Her voice was short, clipped. "I'm sure you have similar unlockable content you don't talk about otherwise."

It was a weird way to put it, but she was right. He did.

So he dropped the subject, looking back out the window.

"By the way, Catherine—Mrs. Gupta, rather—is here today, too," she said, tone easily switching from icy and guarded to light and airy, "She's the Regional COO, though I'm sure you know that. I'm told that she's the one who contacted you, after all."

Jotaro did not feel like answering. He didn't know what to say.

Sunnie merely glanced at him again, grinned to herself, and kept driving.

After Sunnie showed her credentials and pulled through the gated entrance of the new Dallas Speedwagon Foundation HQ, Jotaro let his eyebrows raise in surprise.

The previous location, having been built when Robert E. O. Speedwagon himself had struck black gold in Texas, was (while large) old, and it showed in its architecture and the relative closeness of the buildings. This, however, was a sprawling, modern campus with green spaces and fountains galore.

"We've got seven buildings here, but we'll be heading to the main one. Explore later if you'd like," Sunnie explained easily, searching for a parking spot. "I may be a… honestly kind of critical Subject Liaison, but I still don't have a dedicated parking space. That's fine, however," She lifted her finger and grinned, the sound of windchimes clinking in the air as her Stand fully manifested: lithe, vaguely robotic, feminine, and lined with light turquoise and shimmery silver. The face was mostly featureless and smooth like a plain mask, save for two large and sleek wing-like shapes on the sides, and two calculating but blank amber eyes. "We'll have her take care of this for us."

The Stand wiggled its fingers excitedly, then zoomed out of the roof of the car, unimpeded by the physical barrier. Jotaro watched, blank faced, then asked what could have been considered a very personal question.

"What's it's range?"

"Dust in the Wind's most powerful up to about six to nine feet from me, but she can and will travel quite far." That's… two to three meters, Jotaro translated in his head. "The further she gets, the less effective she is, but she's curious. She likes looking for things."

Jotaro huffed out the barest hint of a chuckle, remembering his time in jail before his trip to Egypt—how Star Platinum had brought him toys, beer, and reading materials in an attempt to placate him.

"I thought up this little tactic in college, since parking was shit there. It was cut-throat, honestly, so Windy helped scope out all the good spots." The Stand swooped down in front of the car and began nodding and pointing, motioning for them to follow. "Oh fuck yeah, it's a good one," Sunnie said happily before following as her Stand danced through the air in front of them, gracefully carving through the air. "She's playful. That's how I, uh, originally met… you know."

Jotaro looked at her, slightly confused. "Your Stand found him?"

She nodded, rounding a row of cars. "You know that weird feeling we got when we saw each other? How Stand users just kind of… know when other Stand users are around? I felt that when I first came here. She immediately jumped out and disappeared to find the source and found, well, him. Then he demanded to see the user, and bam," She shrugged, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, "We met."

Jotaro found himself grimacing at the mention of that man demanding anything and getting it. That piece of shit didn't deserve fuck all, in his opinion.

"Ah! There," Sunnie mumbled, pulling into a spot a row away from the front sidewalk. "She was right, it is good."

As she turned off the car and they both stepped out, Windy flew back to her user, nuzzling her face and disappearing. Sunnie grabbed her backpack and duffle bag from the backseat and they headed down the large sidewalk, lined with magnolias and sparkling water features.

"The old Speedwagon Foundation buildings are actually currently used for housing… supernatural objects. Like Stands tethered to items, fragments of pillars… there's this weird broken sword there that apparently possesses people, but when it does it just begs to be fixed," Sunnie rambled, shoving a hand in her long cardigan's pocket. Jotaro had to catch a breath, recalling that fight where Polnareff had indeed been possessed. That thing was here now? "This facility does a lot of R&D, field agent training, the like. Dallas has a lot of big companies around so they have some good deals, like with TI and stuff."

"You know a lot for someone who hasn't even been here for four months," Jotaro mumbled, glaring at the small woman. She glanced at him with a lazy smirk, the frog bell on her decorated backpack jingling softly as she walked next to him.

"I actually used to be in politics. Handled VAN data in my last campaign, but my strong suit was research. Following the money, making connections, y'know, all that mess," she said, tone light, "I know my way around things. Donor lists, requesting things under the FOIA, the like. I wanted to get a good picture of the Foundation before I thought about working here. And the rumors about their involvement in… supernatural matters interested me."

They walked through the large sliding glass doors into a cooled, busy lobby, shiny and sleek and new. Reflective surfaces, swooping centerpieces, statement greenery… it was impressive. What Jotaro did not appreciate was the eyes he felt on him the second he had walked in and the whispers that he knew were dancing around.

"Oh, Miss Green?" a receptionist pipped up upon seeing her, "And Dr. Kujo, oh!" The young man quickly patted down his curly chestnut hair, "I wasn't expecting you to–a-arrive together, huh. Well, Mrs. Gupta is waiting for you."

"Thanks, Mikel," Sunnie smiled, waltzing past the desk and towards a central elevator. Jotaro nodded his head slightly to the nervous young man as he continued to follow the smaller woman, stepping into the elevator. Sunnie leaned down (she didn't have to go too far) for a retina and thumb print scan, and the doors closed, the elevator smoothly starting up. They rode in silence, until the doors opened to a series of sterile white hallways.

"We're well underground, so you know," Sunnie mentioned as they began walking again. "It's easier to keep him down here with no threat of sunlight. The trick is that these lights outside his suite have a bit of UV in them. Sort of like how they keep the Pillar Man in D.C.," she informed him as they took a left, walking towards a large white double door. "Remember," she said pointedly, "No fights."

She leaned in for another eye and hand scan, and they passed through a short hall and through another sliding double door.

The first thing Jotaro saw in this more lavishly designed room was a tall, lithe, dark skinned woman with close-shaven hair wearing a golden pencil skirt and a deep forest green satin blouse, and stilettos that easily brought her close to his own height. Her expensive-looking gold jewelry and hoop earrings seemed to glitter as she turned her head towards the door, and her glossy dark red lips split into a dazzling grin.

"Sunnie! I see you've brought our guest," she said in a low voice like honey, lightly accented and melodic.

"Yep! I'm surprised he fit in my car," the smaller woman chirped as she walked into the room, "You didn't mention how tall he is."

The woman held out a well manicured hand, which Jotaro shook. "My name is Catherine Gupta. I became the regional COO of the Dallas branch of the Speedwagon Foundation a few months ago. It's good to meet you, Dr. Kujo."

"Call me Jotaro," he said, glowering at the door beyond them, "I'm assuming that's where he is?"

Mrs. Gupta nodded. "These newer facilities have several suites, some aboveground, some underground, for various purposes, if needed," she said, "When he came to us, it just made sense to stick him down here, where he is both protected and contained."

"Throwing him in a blender would be preferable," Jotaro grumbled, and Mrs. Gupta laughed lightly.

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the Joestars' history with him," she said, shaking her head a bit, "The Foundation has extensive files on what happened in Britain all those years ago, as well as what you and your group went through. I've reviewed all of these multiple times to understand the situation fully."

"Well if that's the case, why the hell was I only recently informed of… this??" He gestured to the door beyond them, far past trying to hide the venomous rumble in his voice.

She pursed her full lips, "I wanted to tell you sooner, and believe me, I did everything in my power to convince my then-higher ups to let you know, but they were determined to keep it a secret from you and any other members of the Joestar bloodline. I felt that keeping it from you, however, was a moral failing. So I simply took the power I needed to make this happen."

He had to admit, he was impressed. She had said it so matter-of-factly that one might mistake it for an easy task, but he was aware that it almost definitely wasn't. The roiling rage he felt building inside his chest simply from being in proximity to that piece of shit subsided somewhat. "You have my thanks, then," he said quietly, "Does the Don know?"

Having been quiet up until that point, Sunnie shifted and the little frog shaped bell charm jingled, her head cocking to the side curiously. Jotaro took this to mean that she was unaware of his family tree.

"I'm still working on clearing that. I'm sure you're aware that there are a few more hoops to jump through when it comes to navigating our relationship with Passione," Mrs. Gupta chuckled. Hearing the name of the infamous Italian mafia, Sunnie's eyes blew wide and she covered her mouth slightly to whisper, 'yooooooo, what the shit, my dude', before Mrs. Gupta shot her a knowing smirk. "You would have found out soon enough, Sunnie. Just keep it secret for now, especially from him," she looked in the door's direction, and the shorter woman nodded enthusiastically.

"You got it, boss," she said, grinning widely, "Is… is the Don of Passione is a Joestar?"

"Indeed he is," Mrs. Gupta nodded, and Sunnie nearly flailed, whisper-shouting 'yo what the SHIT' again, causing the taller woman to laugh, "Though, I'll let you in on that later."

"Dope," Sunnie giggled, before noticing a tupperware box on one of the tables. "Oh～? And this is?"

"Murgh makhani from Janpreet. He made extra," Mrs. Gupta said warmly, before shooting Jotaro a glance. "My husband," she explained as an afterthought.

"FUCK yeah, tell him I say thanks," Sunnie giggled.

"Will do."

Jotaro had mostly tuned the two women out, however; he was staring at the door, glowering. Mrs. Gupta and Sunnie shared a glance.

"Welllll, I know you don't like him, but here we go. Time to face the music, I guess?" Sunnie said as she turned, her long cardigan following behind her as she nodded her head towards the door. 

Mrs. Gupta raised an eyebrow at Jotaro, gesturing for him to go before her. He took a breath and turned to the door, steeling his soul and narrowing his eyes.

It was time to face Dio.

ゴゴゴゴゴ...

(Part 2)

[little-boats-on-a-lake]

Part Six

“It looks so warm outside. Can’t I just ‘heal’ out there?” It had been a while since she had needed help walking. Her foot was almost completely healed, thanks to the healing powers of magic. She may not have understood it, but it helped her and that was all she needed to know.  

“You have hypothermia, Sunny. I don’t want to risk it.” Not-Maurus pulled on his boots and laced them tightly. He still refused to tell her his actual name, mainly because of how much she wanted to know, so she settled for calling him without a name. He was so lucky he could just go outside like that. She was getting intense cabin fever—she had never gone this long without being active and it was driving her insane. 

“Had. I had hypothermia. I feel perfectly fine now.”  

“Well, I don’t.” 

“Please?” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please?” As she had learned over the past however long she had been here, it was almost impossible for him to say no to her if she used the most pitiful look she could muster. For some reason, it didn’t work for his name, but it seemed to work for almost everything else. 

“Nooo… Don’t look at me like that...” Aha. Right at his weak spot. 

“Please?” He let out a strangled groan. He clearly didn’t want to, but what did she care about that? 

“Fine. But if anything happens to you, I’m dragging you right back here and telling you that I told you so.”

He relented. “But it’s only because I need to do some gardening anyway.” 

“Gardening?”��

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? I grow my own food. Come on now, up you get.” He slipped her boots on carefully and lifted her up. She draped her arm around his shoulder and they slowly limped to the back of the house. 

“Oh, wow…” She gaped. Rows and rows of bright colors sprawled across a plane of grass that stretched on for what seemed like forever. Flowers spread across the green and she could spy animals resting inside different wooden structures spaced along the land. “Damn my stupid leg.” 

“What? That… that’s the first thing you think of when you see this?” 

“Well, yeah. If my leg was better, I could run all over this place! You even built in a running trail.” 

“That’s just a design! I don’t want you running on pebbles!” 

“You’re so old.”  

“I am-! I am not old! 

“You are very old.” 

“Just… sit on the porch, Sunny.” 

“Old!” 

“Sit!” 

She plopped down by the edge of the seats and pouted as she glared at… Not-Maurus. She really had to find a better name for him. He was currently having what seemed to be the time of his life pulling up smelly onions from the ground. Wait… he was actually having fun with it, wasn’t he? He was genuinely smiling. Not just a smirk or a sarcastic grin like she had seen before. He was smiling. It was a bit jarring to see him like this.  

Oh, NO. He wasn’t allowed to be attractive! He wasn’t supposed to be! Snap out of it, Felicity! You aren’t allowed to like him! Technically, she was still in a relationship with Hedar. There was never any real love there, especially since he tried to kill her, but it would still be cheating. Felicity Lovelace was many things, but a cheater was not one of them. Admiring another person wasn’t really cheating though, was it? She could still hypothetically appreciate how aesthetically nice Not-Maurus was. How nice those broad shoulders and toned arms were…  

“Sunny?” His face was suddenly in front of hers and oh gosh was he undeniably attractive.  

“Huh?” Her face flushed with warmth as she stared at his eyes. They were very blue up close. They looked like the ocean, cool and comforting. By the Goddess, she loved the ocean. She loved standing in the sand and letting the water just sweep over her feet. The ocean was great. The thin scar under his eye only made the blue seem brighter. The scar she had given him…   

“Sunstroke, of course you get sunstroke…” He murmured as his firm grip settled around her arms and swept her up. She had a vague feeling of being carried indoors and seated at the kitchen table.  

“What are you doing?” He kept his arms firmly on her shoulders, spreading a magical chill through her body. It was a soothing type of cold sensation. Her head snapped out of its reverie. “What’s going on?” 

“Apparently, you can’t be in the cold or the hot weather.” He pushed a glass of cold water towards her, keeping his eyes in a red book. 

“Yes, I can.” She pursed her lips petulantly. 

“No, you can’t. You got sunstroke from sitting outside.” 

“I did not…” she began, but he wasn’t done talking. 

“It was probably my fault, letting you be outside with all that heavy clothing. Especially when it’s so hot. Why didn’t you say anything earlier when it got too hot for you? We could have gone inside ages ago.” 

“You’re rambling.” She observed. He tended to do that a lot. It was almost endearing. 

“I do not ramble.” He stopped talking, quite clearly rambling. 

“I do not have sunstroke.” She retorted. 

“You’re incredibly warm, your skin is flushed, you could barely speak before I brought you inside and your heart rate was through the roof.” He looked her squarely in the eye, raising his eyebrow. It sounded more like an infatuation than heatstroke to her. 

“Must be sunstroke.”  

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[skepticalcatfrog]

Aurora High School (Introduction Part Two)

Introduction Part One Introduction Part Two Masterpost

Summary: After starting their junior year in high school, the Jones twins find themselves meeting new people, setting them on a track towards new friendships, new romances, new heartbreaks, and many new adventures.

Pairings: (Eventual) Scarlett Jones x Finian de Seel, Tyler Jones x Saedii Gilwraeth, and Aurora O'Malley x Kaliis Gilwraeth

Word count: 2,964

Author's Notes: Part two! This is going to be the last pre-set plot point for a bit, because requests are officially open! I'm going to elaborate on it in a later post, so look out for that!

Important Author's Notes: This story contains a character who uses a wheelchair. I did do some research, but since I don't experience it, it's virtually impossible for me to be an expert on this topic. If you are more knowledgeable about this than I might be, and you notice an inaccuracy, please let me know what it is and I'll try to fix it!

Scarlett and Tyler walked down the street towards the park, looking around at familiar houses and talking as they did.

"So, who did you invite?" Scarlett asked.

"Well, Cat, as always." Tyler told her. "Plus Aurora, and Kal. His sister's coming too, I said it would be fine if she did."

"When did you have time to get Aurora's number?" Scar kicked a pebble that was resting on the sidewalk.

"Turns out, we have the same gym class. I asked her for it there, because I realized that I forgot to when we did that tour." Tyler quickly explained. He looked at the clock on his phone. It was only three o'clock, meaning that they had at least four or five hours until the sun went down. "Did you invite anyone?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have let you pick the entire guest list." Scarlett shook her head. "I'd think that you'd know me better than that by now, it's been 17 years."

"Well then who did you text?"

"Zila and Finian." Scarlett said matter-of-factly. "Oh, and Cat. In case you forgot to."

"Finian is the kid from the principal's office, right?" Tyler's brows drew together.

"That's the one." Scarlett nodded.

"Are you sure he's not…" Tyler trailed off. Scarlett finished the thought for him.

"Am I sure he's not what? Bad news? A troublemaker?" She raised an eyebrow. "You were in the principal's office too, you know. And I don't hear anyone calling you bad news."

Tyler was quiet after that. He knew she was right. That, and he didn't feel like arguing about it right now. Scar was smart, she would be able to deal with things herself. And hey, maybe he shouldn't judge this guy so quickly. He probably hadn't even done anything too bad.

Ten minutes later, they got to the park. It was a wide open space with paved paths crossing through it, all leading to a wooden gazebo in the center. There was a parking lot on the opposite side with a few cars in it. Trees were scattered along the border of the park, as well as a few within the grassy area. It was a little windy, so the warm colored leaves were bristling in the trees, and the fallen ones were tumbling across the ground.

Tyler and Scarlett walked to the gazebo, where Cat was already sitting on a bench waiting for them. She smiled as she saw them approach.

"Told you I'd get here first, Ty." She teased.

"You're on the track team, it's not my fault you're faster than me." Tyler shot back as he and his sister sat across from her.

"That's no excuse, you're on the football team. Running is a big part of that too." She pointed out. "But anyway, moving on from the topic of who's faster even though it's totally me. What are we going to do today?"

"Well first things first, we're going to wait for the rest of the people we invited to get here." Scarlett gestured to the mostly empty table.

"So it's not just us this time?" Cat's smile faltered for a moment before returning.

"Nope, not just us." Tyler shook his head.

Just as he finished speaking, a car pulled into the parking lot. It was sleek, painted black with white accents. It had a certain look, like it was capable of going insanely fast but it was never really used for that. Kal stepped out of the passenger's seat. From the driver's side door came a girl who was very clearly his sister. They had the same dark hair and eyes, and the same tall and elegant stature. The sister's eyes were lined heavily, and she had black lipstick and nail polish on. The pair strolled over to the gazebo, and while Kal sat down, his sister stood by the edge.

"Tyler, Scarlett." Kal greeted them. "This is my sister, Saedii."

"Great to meet you." Tyler smiled at her.

Saedii held up her hand as a way to tell him to shut up. "Save your breath. I'm only here because my brother needed someone to bring him."

Tyler's smile disappeared completely. It wasn't often that he met someone who seemed that firmly set on not liking him. Scarlett could tell by the look in his eyes that he was definitely going to make it his mission to try and become friends with Kal's sister. But it wouldn't be easy.

"So… what do you guys do for fun?" Scarlett asked, trying to spark a conversation.

"My sister and I both take fencing classes." Kal answered.

"Yes, and I am much more skilled with a sword than he is." Saedii said in a way that sounded both like she was bragging and like she was plotting a murder. "I'm on the wrestling team as well."

"Oh, yeah, I think I might've known that already." Cat smiled, surprised to find an interest that she shared with one of these people she'd just met. "I go to the matches sometimes, just for fun."

"Oh." Saedii seemed equally surprised. "And you… you're on the track team, correct?"

"Damn right I am!" Cat nodded proudly. "I'm the fastest one on the team, too."

"I play a sport too, actually. I'm on the football team." Tyler piped up.

"Very proud of yourself, I see. Are you often praised for what you do?" Saedii raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, I-"

"Then perhaps you should stop letting the compliments get into your head. There's barely any room for the rest of us in this gazebo alongside you and your ego." Saedii deadpanned.

Tyler frowned. He hadn't even done anything wrong, he'd just mentioned that he was on the football team. Kal had mentioned that his sister didn't like football players, but apparently Tyler had underestimated just how much she hated them. "Well you're one to talk."

The conversation died down and became awkward, slightly hostile silence.

Soon enough, Zila arrived on foot. She was carrying her backpack with her, and how she'd managed to walk all the way to the park with a bunch of heavy school books was a mystery. She stopped in her tracks when she saw how many people were there.

"I was unaware of how big this gathering would be." She muttered.

"Hey, Z." Scarlett waved to her. "You can sit down, if you want."

"I think I will be alright standing." Zila assured her. "I do appreciate the sentiment, though."

Scarlett shrugged. "Okay, if you insist. But there's a spot for you if you change your mind."

A few more awkward minutes of no talking went by. Very few of the people in the gazebo actually knew each other. Maybe it had been a mistake to invite a bunch of complete strangers to hang out with each other, but there wasn't really any time to go back. 

After the long stretch of silence, Aurora got there on her bike. It was colorfully decorated, with hand-painted designs covering the entire frame. She chained it to the bike rack and walked over to where everyone else was sitting. She offered everyone a smile and wave, then sat down next to Tyler.

"Hi, everyone. I'm Aurora, but everyone calls me Auri." She said.

The moment he saw her, Kal was smitten. Aurora was beautiful, seemed very sweet, and was probably very creative based on the designs on her bike. Her eyes were unique, unlike anyone's he'd ever seen before. He was very clearly staring, but somehow, she hadn't noticed. Cat did though.

"Hey." Cat whispered harshly. "Loverboy. Might want to pick your jaw up off the ground, or else you might have to ask her out."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Kal's posture straightened and he scowled, glancing at Cat.

"Hm. Guess that's just how your face looks then." Cat shrugged. She didn't know him well enough to debate about this. Plus she didn't really care that much. But she'd make sure to keep an eye out.

And finally, the last car arrived. Well, it was actually a van. It was one of those big ones that could fit an entire family in it at once. It went a little bit past 'van' and bordered on 'bus'. Out of the driver's seat stepped a blonde woman, presumably Finian's mother because her features looked nearly exactly like his. Even from far away you would be able to tell that they were related. She went to the back of the car to get Fin's wheelchair, then brought it back around to the passenger's side door and helped him into it. She asked him something, and he replied quickly, but the people in the gazebo couldn't quite hear what they were saying.

Fin said goodbye to his mother and made his way to where the group was sitting. He smiled when he saw how many people were there. "Wow, if I knew I was coming to a party then I would've brought a punch bowl and something to spike it with. Hope I'm not the last one here." He circled around to the other side of the gazebo to use the ramp, then positioned himself at the end of the table and turned on the brakes of his wheelchair.

"Welcome to our little gathering, Finian." Scarlett waved. "This is Cat, Zila, Auri, Kal, and Saedii. Everyone, this is Fin."

"Your hair is so light! It would probably be really easy to dye, have you ever done it before?" Auri asked.

Fin shrugged. "I dyed it black once in 7th grade. Like, fully black, no colors or anything. That was my emo phase."

"Sounds like it could've worked." Cat leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.

"You know, you'd think that it would because my eyes are so dark, but it didn't. I just looked like a vampire. And not even in the hot-and-mysterious way." Fin shook his head. "My cousin dyes his hair black, and it doesn't look very good on him either, but I'd never say that to his face."

"I let these two dye my hair one time." Tyler gestured to Cat and Scarlett. "I had blue streaks in my hair for about a month, but they turned green after a few washes. It took forever to get all the dye out."

"Shampoos that contain sulfates cause hair color to fade." Zila muttered. "That is why color preserving shampoos work, because they don't contain sulfates."

"Huh. I didn't know that." Tyler's brows drew together in thought. "Interesting."

"What, are you planning on dyeing your hair again, Goldenboy?" Fin smirked.

"Never. I'm good." Tyler smiled and held up his hands.

Scarlett bumped shoulders with her brother. "I think that one of us dyeing our hair regularly is enough."

"I don't dye my hair. I have heard that it can be very damaging." Kal offered his input.

"It can be." Zila nodded, speaking louder this time, though her voice was still monotonous. "Because the dye is meant to break down your original hair color, the chemicals in it will dry out the strands."

"Which is another reason why I don't dye my hair anymore." Fin clapped his hands once.

The conversation faded away. For a little while, they'd forgotten that they didn't know each other, and had just been talking like friends. But it had hit like a brick wall that they had been complete strangers up until about 15 minutes ago. Aurora was the first to speak up.

"Anyone want to play a game?" She suggested.

Cat considered the idea for a moment. "I'm down. What were you thinking?"

"We could play truth or dare, except minus the dare part. Basically just asking each other questions, and we have to answer honestly. I'll ask the first question, if that's okay with everyone?" Aurora asked. No one protested, so she continued. "Hm… Fin. What's your favorite animal, and why?"

"I've gotta say that I don't have one. I haven't really thought about it much. But I'll tell you what my least favorite is." Fin made a wide gesture to the whole group. "Fish. My cousin, he's going to college to be a marine biologist. And he doesn't shut up about fish any chance he gets. Knows every single thing there is to know about fish. He could probably list off every single subcategory of fish like they were the damn periodic table song if you asked him to."

"Is this also the cousin who dyes his hair black?" Auri laughed.

"The very same!" Fin grinned. "But, we're officially off topic. Back to the questions. Goldenboy. If you could choose any superpower, what would it be?"

"Super strength." Tyler said as if he'd thought about it before. "It probably wouldn't be allowed in sports, but it would make a lot of other things easier."

"Plus then you wouldn't need to get up at 3 in the morning to do an entire workout routine before school." Scarlett teased.

"No, I'd still do that." Tyler smiled. "Now for a question… Zila?"

Zila looked up from whatever she'd been doing on her phone. "Hm?"

"How long do you think you'd last in a zombie apocalypse?"

"I think that I would die of natural causes in a zombie apocalypse. There is no way of knowing for sure, of course, because my survival would depend on variables such as the running speed of the zombies or how strong they were." Zila explained her thought process. "But in a scenario where they are slow, weak, and unintelligent, I would easily outsmart them."

"Slow, weak, and unintelligent… are we talking about zombies, or the people in my math class?" Cat smirked. That earned a laugh from the group.

The game lasted for a few more hours. They learned things about each other that they might not have thought about before. For example, they learned that Kal and Saedii had been to 63 countries, and after finding that out, Fin encouraged them to go to 6 more so the number would be perfect. They learned that Zila's favorite color was green. That Tyler had broken 10 bones in his lifetime. That Aurora was planning on joining the art club and the track team. That Scarlett had once accidentally downloaded a virus onto Ty's phone, causing him to need a new one. That Fin lived with both of his parents, 6 siblings, 2 aunts, 1 uncle, and 5 cousins, as well as next door to all of his grandparents, 4 uncles, 5 aunts, and 13 cousins. That Cat was already working on a few college applications. All in all, it had been a very interesting game, and before they knew it the sky was turning pink.

"I should probably get going." Fin squinted up at the sky. "My mom doesn't want me to be out past dark, and if I don't text her soon, she's going to come here on her own."

"That's a good idea. Scar and I should head home too." Tyler agreed. "Early to bed, early to rise, as they say."

"Well, if you two are leaving, the rest of us might as well disband too." Cat shrugged.

"How about we exchange numbers?" Aurora suggested, taking her phone out of her pocket. "I'd like to stay in touch with all of you."

Everyone else took out their own phones, and each took turns reading off their numbers. Tyler noticed that Kal's sister hadn't said anything.

"Saedii? Are you going to join the conversation?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No need." Saedii responded coldly, shaking her head. "Why would I need the numbers of my brother's friends?"

"Fine then. If that's really how you're going to think." Tyler waved his hand dismissively.

Aurora made a group chat with all of them in it and sent a quick 'hi', just so it would show up on the others' phones. After that, everyone went their separate ways. Cat and Zila started walking out of the park. Auri went to her bike, Kal and Saedii to their car. Finian texted his mom, then turned off the wheelchair brakes and went back to the parking lot. Scarlett and Tyler began the walk home.

"That went surprisingly well!" Scar said once they were out of earshot. "Usually it isn't the best idea to invite a bunch of people to hang out when they don't know each other, but they seemed to get along great for complete strangers."

"I don't really know if they can be considered strangers anymore, Scar." Tyler pointed out. "I'd even go as far as to say that we've made ourselves some new friends."

"I hope so. It gets so boring not having anyone to wave to in the halls." Scarlett stretched out the 'o' in 'boring'. And as dramatic as she was, Tyler had to admit that she was right.

"Yeah… I'm glad we met these guys."

The sun had set by the time they arrived back home. Adams greeted them when they came through the door, but there wasn't any small talk. Their days had been awfully draining. They figured it would be better to get to bed early, despite the fact that it was officially the weekend. Tyler went to bed early most days anyway, but this was especially rare for Scarlett.

They thought back on how crazy that day had been. First a new kid showed up, then Tyler got into a fight and went to the principal's office, then they'd made friends with a bunch of people they'd never met before. It was only the beginning of the school year. And as Tyler and Scarlett settled into bed in their own respective rooms, they both had the same thought on their minds.

This was going to be an interesting year, for better or for worse.

Taglist: @taco-taco-belle (Ask to be on the taglist!)

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Good evening fuckers, I am working on very little sleep and I’ve decided to bring you more bad luck beads fluff! This time, feat. soft Jet Star. Also note: Ghoul uses he/they/xe pronouns. Jet uses he/they and prefers they.

Title: The only one for me is you

Wordcount: 620

Summary: Fun Ghoul gets a second strand of bad luck beads. Jet Star is slightly better at articulating their feelings than Party Poison.

These things are somewhat related.

Warnings: None? there’s a fuckton of swearing as always but nothing else.

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

It was a week or two after Fun Ghoul had been given xyr first strand of bad luck beads when xe acquired another. This time it was Jet Star that tapped xem on the shoulder as he was sitting in the garage of the diner, where a little workshop was slowly starting to form. At first it had just been the tools they used to fix the Trans Am, but other stuff was starting to pile up too, bits and pieces of radios and flashlights and other gadgets. The ever-dramatic Party Poison had declared it a ‘mess on the scale of Kobra’s hair in the morning’, earning themself a glare from their brother. Ghoul liked it though. Xe found the mess comforting, a welcome difference from the cold and white emptiness they had seen in Battery City.

So yes, Fun Ghoul was in the garage of the diner when Jet came to tap xem on the shoulder that sunny afternoon (not that many afternoons weren’t sunny, out in the desert).

“Oh hey, Jet!” Xe twisted around to grin at them, abandoning xyr project.

“Hey, Ghoul.” Jet gave him a small smile in return. “Not to pull a Party Poison, but I’ve got something for you.”

Ghoul eyed them with joking suspicion. “Is it going to be another bracelet?”

“You caught me! I guess it doesn’t have to be a bracelet, but it’s about the right length. You could use it as a bracelet.” Jet produced a strand of beads from their jacket pocket, holding it out to xem.

Ghoul took the beads, examining them tentatively. The strand was warm from being carried in Jet’s pocket, and slightly rough beneath his fingers. The beads themselves were a little uneven in size, seemingly made out of pebbles. It was clear that a lot of work had gone into it, as the pebbles were nearly drilled through, strung together, and painted with intricate little designs. There were many beads with only abstract patterns, but quite a few had more specific designs on them. Ghoul spotted wings, flames, water droplets, the killjoy spider, and several with little green hearts. The colors of paint were remarkably varied, ranging from red all the way through the rainbow to a tiny bit of purple, although green seemed to dominate.

“Any, uh, thoughts?” Jet sounded strangely nervous.

It was a silly thing, but what Ghoul first thought to say was “It’s very green.” Xe immediately regretted that, hoping the other wouldn’t be too offended.

“You said green is your favorite color, and I couldn’t get my hands on a lot of colors,” Jet explained, fiddling with their jacket. “I hope it’s okay.”

“You made this?” Ghoul was pretty sure xyr eyes were wide as a fucking kitten’s as they looked up at Jet.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah I made this. It’s Zone tradition, giving bad luck beads to your friends, and I figured I’d make a strand since we had the supplies. Well, most of them. I did spend a couple carbons on the bright green paint, but I figured it wasn’t complete without it.”

“Oh. You spent carbons on me?”

“My own money, don’t worry-“

“Not worried about the money, it’s just…” Jet's statement caught up to them. “You care enough to spend your own carbons on somethin’ for me?”

Jet seemed briefly startled by that. “Yeah? You’re part of my crew, Ghoul. I care about you.”

“Oh.” Xe looked down at the beads in his hands, turning them over again and looking at all the intricate patterns. They must have taken hours, each one carefully painted on by hand. “I care about you too, Jet.”

Jet Star’s smile could have been a star all on its own.

[moonguilt]

and maybe i climbed it for you

(Written for the Rolling 20 zine, which I highly encourage you to check out!  Also, huge thank you to @kuranico for collabing with me on this!  Please follow them, they are an incredible artist!)

Pairing: Keith/Lance (and Pike/Thunderstorm Darkness)

Wordcount: 5023

Read on my AO3 here!

---------

“Hey there, big boy,” Pike purred, leaning in with his eyes lidded.  “I don't think I've seen many men in this area quite as ... muscular and rugged as yourself.”  His eyes twinkled as he flashed a wink and caught his lower lip between his teeth.  “In fact, I think some free time just opened up in my schedule.  What do you say … you … me … a little privacy?”  He slowly extended a hand, fingers gentle and searching—

———

“I cast Moonbeam.”

“Very well, Keith, please roll for—”

“Hey!” Lance sputtered indignantly, hands flying up in the air as Keith, looking all too leisurely where he sat at Lance's side, reached for the twenty-sided die.  “I was about to seduce him!  I rolled a seventeen!”  He snatched the die right before Keith could grab it, turning it to the side with the number “17” and shoving it in Keith's face for emphasis.  “You can't just barge in and attack him!  I was—I was—”  He let out a groan of sheer aggravation.  “I was really getting into character, too!”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Pidge piped up from across the table, leaning on her elbows and watching Lance's antics with a bored expression on her face.  “Ew, by the way.  Get a room next time.”

“I was trying!”

Keith just rose an unimpressed eyebrow at Lance, then wordlessly plucked the die from his fingers—Lance's skin tingled where their hands made contact—and tossed it onto the table, where it rattled around for a second before coming to a halt.

“Ah! Another seventeen!” Coran exclaimed, a cheery lilt to his voice, unfazed by Lance's huffing and puffing nearby.  “Very good, then, Keith.  So …”

———

Pike was generally not one for heroic quests.  He found them interesting, sure—but he wasn't one to be persuaded by the mere promise of noble accolades.  Money and fun, though—those were motivators he could get behind.  A little (or, well, a lot of) cash and a bit of adventure was all it took to catch his attention, and he prided himself on showing off his genius plans and his uncanny ability to outmaneuver the enemy.

He had agreed to join up with this traveling group on their mission to defeat something called a Xloraznor under the condition that he would: a) receive a sparkling heap of silver coins as his cut of the reward, and b) get to satisfy his thrill-seeking, wanderlust desires to his heart's content.

He considered his flirting skills to be not only top-notch, but also an essential part of his ideal adventure fantasy, and so it was getting on his nerves that a certain companion of his seemed incapable of letting him do his job.  Every time he attempted to charm his way past an enemy encounter, the party's obnoxious druid decided to attack the target instead, like some kind of boneheaded barbarian.  It was denying Pike any opportunity to show off his brilliant seduction skills, and it was making this journey much longer and more combat-heavy than it needed to be.

“Aren't druids supposed to, like, value life and all that?” Pike grumbled, kicking pebbles as the group trekked through the Forest of Clianuun on their way to Elmora-by-the-Falls.  “I thought that was your whole thing.”

Thunderstorm Darkness, in all his ridiculous, brooding glory, did not even spare Pike a glance as he stepped over a fallen branch and continued following the others toward a faint sound of running water.  “Do I look like that kind of druid?” he replied dryly, his tone flat.

Pike gave him a quick once-over.  Thunderstorm certainly had the animalistic qualities of a stereotypical druid, but admittedly not the nurturing, life-loving ones.  His attire was dark and rugged, revealing enough to expose rather dangerous-looking muscles along his arms, which started off pale and faded into dark black hands with vicious claws—a notable sign, along with his pointed ears and glowing silver eyes, of the galra blood in his veins.  His jet black hair fell in a braid down to his knees, and long bangs framed his angular face, which was decorated in red paint that Pike still suspected might have traces of enemy blood in it.  Thunder always seemed offended at the implication, but hey, he was the one giving off constant murder-vibes.

In all honesty, Pike probably would have protested Thunder’s place in their group by now, if it weren’t for the mildly annoying fact that he found the druid to be unfairly attractive.  It wasn’t his fault, okay?  Really, who walks around with their biceps just hanging out for the world to see?

“… Guess not,” Pike eventually muttered beneath his breath, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.  He opened his mouth, ready to formulate some off-the-cuff insult—

“Look!” Valayun's voice rang out ahead.  “There it is! Elmora-by-the-Falls!”  She pointed through the foliage and took off into the brush, and a moment later, her gasp sounded in the distance.  “Oh, it's beautiful …”

Eager to lay eyes on whatever Valayun was gushing about, the rest of the party picked up the pace and pushed their way through a swath of hanging fern-like vines.  What they saw when they emerged on the other side was … well, Pike thought “beautiful” was an astonishing understatement on Valayun's part.

Pristine marble towers stretched high into the sky, rivaling the treeline and glinting in the afternoon sunlight.  Vibrant pink ivy climbed up their shining surfaces, and expertly secured rope bridges connected the peaks of each tower so that citizens could easily commute from one to the next.  Flowers of all shapes and colors grew along the ropes and spilled down in great draping clusters to hang over the streets and houses below.  The buildings on the ground level looked like giant, upturned clay pottery—ruddy orange and round, with symmetrical designs carved all over the outsides.  No two houses looked the same.

The entire town of Elmora-by-the-Falls was bordered by a three-foot-tall hedge that was home to a species of flying bug that glowed violet, even in the daytime.  They buzzed, but not like bees—almost like birds, actually; their humming had a lovely sort of melody.  Pike found himself perking his ears just to catch the tune.

Beyond the grand display was the town's namesake: Clianuun Falls.  It was magnificent and awe-inspiring: bright blue water catching every ray of the sun as it tumbled over the crest of the cliff side against which Elmora-by-the-Falls was nestled.  The water drummed ceaselessly into a pool below, which then flowed out into a small river that burbled playfully as it trailed off into the forest.

Once the party managed to break themselves out of their trance, they started tentatively moving toward the town gate, staying quiet for fear of shattering the tranquility of the scene before them.  Even so, the purple bugs scattered to avoid the group, and as they passed by the riverbank, a pair of water sprites stopped dancing along the surface and chirped to each other before flying further downstream.

“This place is so pretty I could cry,” Block breathed, gripping his staff tightly with both hands—a nervous habit of his.  He sniffed once, and his lip quivered.  “Aw, man, I am crying!”

Meklavar patted him on the back, as high up as she could reach.  “Keep it together, Block,” she warned, her eyes alert.  “Just because it's pretty and flowery doesn't mean it's friendly.  Some species of flower are known for being beautiful, but will spit poison in your face if you aren't—”

“Relax, Mekky-Mek,” Pike said, then winced when Meklavar shot him a glare.  “Yeah, okay, the nickname could use some work.  Anyway!”  As they neared the gate, he turned around, opting to walk backwards while he fixed the dwarf with a cocky grin.  “I'm something of an expert in mood-reading.  And this place?”  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “Good vibes, my small, cynical friend.”  His tail swished back and forth at a lazy pace.  “This is gonna be a piece of cake.  We drop in, get what we need, maybe meet a few lovely—aiee!”

Pike jumped a full two feet in the air when he felt his back press against something solid and distinctly person-shaped.  He scrambled for balance and spun around, finding himself face-to-face with a grim-looking guard in a full suit of armor.  Her hand was gripped tightly around a halberd, and her eyes spoke of danger.

“Outsiders are not welcome in Elmora-by-the-Falls,” she intoned in a deep, gravelly voice.  “You will leave now.”  She raised her halberd and slammed the butt of the weapon into the ground, making a sharp cracking noise that had Pike covering his sensitive ears.

“Gah!  Hey, no no no no,” he protested, ears now flat against his head.  “I—uh.”  He cleared his throat, put on his best, most charming smile, and batted his eyes up at the woman.  “I'm sure there's something I could do to convince you …”

She met his sultry gaze with a hard stare.

Pike winced a little, but recovered quickly.  “You know … some kind of … arrangement, between you and me?”  He slowly, slowly licked his lips.  “You'll find I have many talents … especially in the—”

———

“I cast Moonbeam.”

“Wha—Keith!”  Lance clambered over the table, his long limbs flailing as he grabbed the die before Keith could so much as twitch.  “Stop ruining my class fantasy!”  His eyes were blazing with genuine annoyance as he shimmied back into his seat, clutching the die to his chest protectively.  “I have very high charisma!  This is supposed to be my thing!”

Keith returned Lance's glare with one of his own.  “Has it occurred to you that maybe my class fantasy doesn't involve sitting here watching you flirt relentlessly with every single NPC we come across?” he retorted, then reached a hand out toward Lance's closed fist.

“Back!” Lance objected, smacking at Keith's intrusive fingers with his free hand while lifting the one with the die as far away from Keith as he could.  “Back, you monster!”  His arm protested the strain, but he held strong as Keith started grappling with him, trying to pull the die-hand back down while Lance smooshed a palm into his face.  It would have been easier if Lance’s traitorous heart wasn’t beating rapidly in its cage at the physical contact, but … he wasn’t complaining.  In fact—

And then Keith stood up, and Lance realized:

Oh.  That's not good.

Lance shrieked and pulled his hand back down to his chest, turning away and curling into a ball with his precious die tucked securely against his sternum.  He managed to remain impervious to Keith's prodding for a few moments, until Keith decided to switch to the tickling tactic, at which point Lance broke down into laughter and gasped for mercy.  Keith, like the absolute demon he was, just smiled.

“… As entertaining as I'm sure this is for both of you,” Shiro spoke up, causing Keith to choke on his own spit while Lance willed his cheeks to cool down, “I have a Zumba class with Adam in an hour and I still need to get changed, so I'd appreciate it if we could keep things moving.”  His mouth quirked with faint amusement, but his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

Keith sat back down and turned to Lance, raising an eyebrow expectantly.  He outstretched his hand, palm up, and made the universal “give it here” motion.

Lance grumbled as he pulled himself upright, pursing his lips and eyeing Keith contemplatively for a moment.  “Actually,” he said, his lips twisting into a smirk just as Keith's started to twist into a scowl.  “Coran, I have an idea.”  His heartbeat was still recovering from earlier, but he managed to slip on a cocky facade.  “So, you wanna go around killing everyone I flirt with, huh?”

Keith's frown deepened with confusion.

Lance's grin spread.

Keith's eyes widened.

———

“Why, Thunder, has anyone ever told you your eyes are like the sparkling gemstones of the Ilygia Mountains?” Pike inquired, sidling up to the druid's side as the others watched with expressions that ranged from surprise to intrigue to disgust.

Thunderstorm's face darkened with a flush that crept from his throat to his ears—

———

“My character would not blush!”

“I'm sorry, Keith, but that was a very good roll,” Coran admitted, looking up from the game.  “Thunder isn't immune to Pike's advances.”  He shrugged helplessly, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

———

“I love this outfit of yours, Thunder … It shows off your delicious biceps … How did you get so strong?”

“After my older sister was killed by a band of Arovian brigands, I swore to train every day so I could avenge—”

———

“Coran!  You can't just reveal my character's origin story without my consent!”

“My dear boy, Pike is quite the charismatic fellow!  Now, where were we?  You begin to feel like you can truly trust Pike with your heart's deepest secrets …”

“Hold on.  Lance, gimme that stupid die.  Coran, I'm rolling to seduce.”

———

If anyone had told Pike at breakfast this morning that he would be flirting with Thunderstorm Darkness before sundown, he would have laughed it off entirely.  The druid was as prickly as they came, and he had acquired a nasty habit of relying on violence for, well, everything.  Not exactly the safest target for Pike's romantic endeavors.  Sure, he was admittedly a handsome man, but he seemed like the type to bite Pike's hand off if he got too close.

But, here Pike was.

With his hand.  On Thunder's cheek.  In broad daylight.

This was meant to be a joke—a brief reprieve to lighten the mood and perhaps get that stuffy guard to crack a smile.

And now Pike was falling in love.  Which, first of all, what?  It was only a few minutes ago that he had started flirting for fun, but things turned very serious very quickly, and now suddenly he was practically swooning as Thunder turned his head to press his lips to the palm of Pike's hand.  Again, what?  If someone told him right now that some omnipotent force had waved a magic wand and decreed the two to be head-over-heels for one another, Pike would probably believe it.

Whatever the case, Pike was never one to question the power of true love.  And as Thunder fixed him with a heavy-lidded stare, dark and intense and enamored, Pike felt the words tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them:

“Will you marry me?”

———

“Oh my God,” Hunk whispered, biting his fist and watching with wide eyes.  “Oh my God, he went for it.”

Lance puffed out his chest, ignoring the blush that he felt flooding his face.  “That's right,” he declared, placing his arms behind his head and leaning back on the couch.  “I went for it.”  He fixed Keith with his laziest smirk, letting his left knee knock into Keith's right leg teasingly.  “I win.”

Lance thought Keith was sure to burn a hole in both of their legs from how hard he was staring at the point of contact, but instead, he just turned an unreadable gaze toward Lance and said, “Oh really?”

Lance's smirk faltered.

Keith didn't look away.  “Coran, I say …”

———

“Yes.”

Pike's blood pounded in his veins as the words reached his ears.  He blinked owlishly at Thunder, feeling his heart overflow with immeasurable joy, and suddenly beamed.  “Yes?” he repeated in awe, his smile blinding as he leaned in close.  Thunder's expression was fond and doting as he mirrored the movement, tilting his head as his lips grew closer to Pike's—

“What a joyous occasion!”

Pike and Thunder pulled back a bit, exchanging a bewildered glance before looking over toward the gate.  There stood, of all people, the guard from earlier—surrounded now by a small crowd of Elmoran citizens.  Her face stretched into a broad, happy grin as she regarded the pair, and the crowd, which consisted mostly of humans and a handful of elves, erupted in cheers.

“Congratulations,” she announced, stepping toward Pike and Thunder, both of whom were mildly frazzled by the shouting.  “Elmora-by-the-Falls is most honored that you have chosen our town as the location of your engagement.  Truly, we are humbled and grateful beyond words for your kindness this day.”  She laid a hand on both of their shoulders, her expression warm and inviting.  “Please, allow us to welcome you into our home.  You and your companions are our most treasured guests.”

Pike was still stunned into silence, but after a quick jab from Thunder, he nodded swiftly.  “Uh, yeah! Yes. Totally.”  He hurried to catch up as the guard spun around and marched off toward the town.  Finally, he and Thunder managed to spare a look over their shoulders.  The rest of the party just gaped, wordlessly shuffling forward as excited citizens began beckoning them all through the gates.

Elmora-by-the-Falls was even more splendid from the inside, Pike decided as he followed the guard through the winding cobblestone streets.  He looped an arm around Thunder's elbow and peered about in amazement, blinking as small children ran past them with cries of “a wedding! A wedding!”  Citizens stopped in the street to gawk at the procession, and soon people started emerging from their round, engraved houses to offer well-wishes and words of gratitude.  The children returned a few minutes later with two long necklaces made of pink ivy from the towers, and Pike graciously accepted both of them when Thunder failed to do anything other than squint in confusion.

“Thunder,” Pike admonished, donning his own necklace and then reaching to put the other one on the druid.  “It's a necklace. You wear it on your neck, stupid.”  Pike winced and shook his head all of a sudden.  “I mean, sweetheart.”  Weird.

———

“Ugh,” Lance groaned, planting his head on the table after his little slip-up with Pike's dialogue.  “This is too hard.  Let's get a divorce.”

“We're not married yet, 'sweetheart.'”

“Don't you 'sweetheart' me, sweetheart,” Lance grouched, peeling his face from the table and jabbing an accusatory finger in Keith's direction.  “This would never have happened if you hadn't tried to turn this into a flirting competition.”

Keith hummed, leaning back in his seat and picking at his gloves with an air of fake casualness.  “Well, at least this answers the question of who wins.”  His eyes, aglow with the glint of challenge, darted in Lance's direction.  Lance's throat suddenly felt quite dry. “Since you're throwing in the towel.”

Lance opened his mouth once, shut it, opened it again, then began making blustery noises of inarticulate indignation.  There was no way he could let Keith win at romance.  He would never live it down.

“Uh, no no,” Hunk interrupted, frowning sternly at the two of them.  “Nobody's throwing in the towel.  In case you've forgotten, the sorceress told us we need Clia Root from this place, and the only reason we're allowed to set foot here right now is because you two—”  He pointed at them both emphatically.  “—are gonna make moon eyes at each other and smooch under a flower pot or wash your armpits in the Clianuun Falls or whatever these guys do to celebrate a wedding.”  His voice and expression left no room for argument.

Lance grimaced at the mental image, but nevertheless turned to meet Keith's gaze.  They both stared at each other for a moment, then simultaneously nodded in silent agreement.

———

So, it turned out that weddings were kind of a huge deal in Elmora-by-the-Falls.  Like, a monumental deal.  Pike had done some asking around while he was being whisked through the streets.

According to Elmoran tradition, marriage was not something to be taken lightly.  It was extremely rare for romantic partners to decide to join each other in union; the vast majority of Elmoran people spent their whole lives unmarried, to the extent that there was, on average, only one wedding per decade in Elmora-by-the-Falls.  A wedding was said to bring the town spiritual favor and good luck for an entire year afterwards, so when someone did get married, it was received with overwhelming joy by the general populace.

It just so happened that Elmora-by-the-Falls had not hosted a wedding for thirteen long years.  They were practically itching to get the ceremony started, and so it was not long before Pike and Thunder found themselves shoved out onto a marble balcony by a plethora of eager hands.

The balcony was already meticulously arranged: a sturdy burgundy cloth canopy swayed in the breeze overhead, acting as a sort of ceiling, and holes had been cut in the fabric to allow flowering vines to drape down in various places.  The edge of the balcony was lined with a shorter variant of the bushes that bordered the town; the strange little purple bugs glowed as they flitted around harmlessly.  The sun was beginning to set now, so their glow was more prominent against the backdrop of Elmora-by-the-Falls at evening time.  To the left, the waterfall roared; it was far enough not to be an inconvenience to the ceremony, but close enough to cast a fine, cooling mist that Pike reveled in.

The centerpiece, however, was the small white table set up at the edge of the balcony.  It was simple and square, about two feet high, and on its surface sat two small wooden bowls, a pitcher of water, and an array of sparkling powders whose rich and varied hues reminded Pike of a spice stall.

Pike and Thunder shared a look, then instinctively reached for each other's hands—because that was a thing now, them being stupidly in love—before approaching the table.  A cheery old Elmoran woman followed behind, hurrying them along, while the rest of the party spread out to the sides of the balcony and watched with a mixture of fascination and wariness.

“There you go, you two, right up to the front,” the old woman babbled, then grabbed them and turned them to face each other.  “Now, you see the soul dust?”  She gestured to the wooden display piece that held all of the powders in little carved-out holes.  Pike shot a look of alarm toward Thunder and mouthed “soul dust” at him, but the woman either did not notice or did not care.  “You will select the soul dust that you feel best embodies your partner.  It must be an instinctive decision.  Follow what you are most drawn to.”  One crooked finger pointed at the pitcher of water.  “You will use the pitcher to fill the bowls with the waters of Clianuun Falls.”  The finger shifted down toward the two small bowls.  “And then you will pinch your chosen powder into your bowl.  It will disperse in the water, and you will drink it.”

Pike waited for her to continue.

She did not.

“Is that it?” Thunder spoke up, voicing Pike's own confusion.

The woman huffed indignantly.  “Is that it?” she repeated, shaking her head and tutting as she turned around and hobbled off to the seats in the back.  “The boy is about to bind his soul in sacred matrimony, and he asks, 'Is that it?'”  Her muttering became unintelligible as she lowered herself into a plush chair.

Thunder blinked once at her, then turned back to Pike with a glimmer of determination in his eye.  “Ready?”  He squeezed Pike's hand briefly before finally dropping it.

Pike flashed him his most swoon-worthy grin.  “Born ready, baby!”  He whirled around to face the table and immediately grabbed the pitcher, pouring it into his bowl—and into Thunder's, because he was a gentleman, of course.  He wasted no time in inspecting the powders; he knew exactly what he wanted, and he spotted it instantly: a bright vermilion, twinkling like fairy dust.  With delicate precision, he transferred several pinches of the substance into his bowl and gasped as the water took on a glittering red color and began to emit a beautiful glow.

Thunder seemed similarly certain of his choice—an azure powder, Pike noted with no small amount of intrigue—but far less concerned with finesse.  He was just scooping the stuff into his bowl as if he was seasoning soup.  It was maddening, but it was also very Thunder, and for some reason that was no longer a negative assessment.

Thunder's water swirled into a shimmering blue, then started glowing just as Pike's had. The druid let out a soft “oh” and waited for a second, then gently—surprisingly gently, considering his manhandling of the soul dust—cupped the bowl in his hands and cradled it in front of his chest.  He turned to face Pike again, waiting for the man to mirror him, and when he did, they both stood there, suspended for a long moment.  Their gazes flickered quietly between the bowls and each other.

“Well,” Pike finally chirped, taking a deep breath.  “Bottoms up.”  He knocked the whole thing back in one go, coughing a bit when it went down the wrong way; Thunder merely watched with amusement and tipped his own bowl back, and their Elmoran audience erupted with praise.  “Eurgh,” Pike groaned, wincing at the flavor.  “Your soul tastes weird.”  He raised his hands in a placating fashion when he caught Thunder's flat look.  “But like, weird in a good way!  You know, in a romantic way!”

Thunder, impatient as ever, simply grabbed Pike's bowl, stacked it over his own, set them both down on the table, and placed his clawed hands on Pike's hips.  “I want to kiss you now,” he stated honestly and with no hesitation.  His lips glowed with a faint blue gloss—the remnants of his soul dust concoction.  It made Pike's heart stutter.

“Wh—uh—”  Pike paused for a second to regain himself.  “Um.”  He watched as Thunder tilted his head, his gaze penetrating and inquisitive as he waited for permission.  His eyes dipped to Pike's mouth.  Pike swallowed.  Waited.  And then: “Yes.”  And then again: “Yes yes yes yes.  Come here.  Yes.”

And Pike marveled at the rumbling laughter that escaped Thunder's lips as he leaned in, more than happy to oblige.

———

“Sorry, everyone, but I think that's all we have time for tonight,” Coran announced, his tone predictably peppy as he reached across the table to collect the various devices and dice that had gotten scattered about over the course of the previous couple of hours.  “An excellent session, if I do say so myself.  At this rate, you'll get that Clia Root in no time!”

“What?!” Lance interjected, rising to his feet.  He barely noticed as Keith stood with him.  “We only just got to kiss!  You can't just cut it off there!”  He spread his arms with outrage, smacking Keith in the chest by accident.  Oh, Lance thought absently.  That’s a nice chest.

Rather than bat the hand away, Keith said, “Lance is right.  We're in the middle of an action.  We should finish the scene.”  His mouth was set in a firm line, and his brows were drawn together in a display of resoluteness.  It was oddly attractive.

God, Lance was starting to find Keith's stupid eyebrows attractive.  How far he had fallen.

“Hm,” Allura began, a mischievous, faux-thoughtful lilt to her voice.  “I thought you two weren't enjoying this?”  Her expression was innocent enough, aside from the hint of a smile that she tried to hide by busying herself with gathering her belongings.  “Did something change?”

Lance squawked and turned to the others for help, but the traitors seemed preoccupied with grabbing their things and getting out.  “This is—it's not—”  He folded his arms across his chest and glared as Hunk, Pidge, and Allura, gave casual little waves and strolled through the door as if Lance was not currently having a crisis.  Hel-lo.

He was so caught up in his indignation that he failed to analyze Keith's silence as they all packed up and prepared to leave.  It wasn't until Lance was halfway out the door that he paused and turned around, only to find that Keith had followed him, that easily-identifiable Keith-brand of concentration plain on his face.  Still reeling from his embarrassment, Lance was seized by the conflicting impulses of wanting to crawl into a hole and die, and wanting to keep staring until his eyes fell out of their sockets, because—

Because Keith was blushing.  Wow.  What a sight.  It was darker around his neck, fainter around his jaw, and bright as a cherry on the smooth skin just below his cheekbones, where it mottled like sunlight on an ocean floor.

“Hey,” he said.

“… Hey,” Lance replied.

“Do you want to grab dinner with me?”  He looked like he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon.  It would have been funny if it wasn't mildly alarming.  “I was thinking we could talk some things over.”  His head was held high, but his hands were shoved in his pockets awkwardly, like he couldn't decide what to do with them.  “For—you know, for our characters.”

Lance felt his throat tie itself into a knot, twisting around at the base of his neck.  He regarded Keith for a moment, trying to read this odd behavior while simultaneously trying to convince himself this is not a date, McClain; you guys hang out all the time.  Get your head out of Elmora-by-the-Falls.  He thought he did a pretty credible job of ignoring the fluttering of his heart and keeping his expression neutral as he said, “Yeah, man.  Sure.”  He lifted his shoulders in a huge shrug.  Oo, no. Overkill.  His shoulders sank back down.  Casual.  Chill.

“Cool,” Keith breathed with a smile, like he could just do that, like it was simple.

And maybe it was.

“Yeah,” Lance replied, turning toward the exit and burying his own smile in the collar of his jacket. “Cool.”

———

“Hey, Coran?”

“Why, yes, Shiro?  How can I help?”

“Didn't you say you came up with all of these plots in your head?  Did you just … invent the whole sacred marriage tradition on the spot?”

“Shiro, my dear friend, sometimes one must guide the hand of fate.”

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 6)

(chapter 6)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairings: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: kissing, language, violent deaths, fighting, angst, fluff, + nsfw

previous | next

Athena’s POV

Every night since I've arrived to the Capitol, I would go and sit out on the balcony after training. It's calming and sobering to rewind the events of the entire day.

For example, I had just finished telling Taeyong about my plans with Jaemin in private. I made sure that no one else, especially Renjun, knew what was going to happen. Of course, Taeyong wasn't too happy about me being with a boy. Or at least pretending to be with one. However, he said it doesn't matter to him, just as long as I win.

I also thought about how we were gong to be evaluated and given rankings tomorrow.  Rankings, ranked from one to twelve, are assigned by the Gamekeepers to tributes, after they are given fifteen minutes to show off their best skills. These are very important, since these are televised to the public and show people who they should sponsor.

I hear the door slide open from behind me.

"You here to kill me, yet?" I joke, seeing Renjun.

"Maybe." He shrugs, sitting down beside me.

We both stare down at the Capitol below. Watching as a group of citizens are walking, having the time of their lives. For them, the games were the most excited part of their whole year.

I speak up, "They look so happy"

"If I lived like this everyday, I would be happy too," Renjun says, matter of factly, "The food. The apartments. Who wouldn't be happy?"

Frowning, I state, "I wouldn't. Do you wanna know why?"

"No, but your probably going to tell me anyway." Renjun rolls his eyes.

I wonder what he truly thinks about the Capitol and the games.

"Haven't you seen the kids from twelve? They look so small and malnourished. I would feel bad for living like that, when there are others, like them, who can't." I shake my head.

"Where'd you get those ideas from? Jaemin? They look fine to me."

I begin to throw a pebble off the roof. However, a invisible force causes the pebble to bounce back into the balcony.

"Do you know why they have that? It's so the tributes can't jump off." I try to make a point.

He plainly stated, "I don't get why they would do that."

Frustrated, I ask, "Have you ever even thought about all the things you might not ever get to do?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. There's so many things I never got to do. You know, all the things teenagers are supposed to do. Like first kisses and love and all that stuff." I shake my head.

"Probably cause no one has ever wanted to be with you like that." He laughs at me.

Sharply, I just reply with, "Jaemin would."

"Of course," He repeats to himself, "Of course, he would."

Taken aback, I inquire, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He just shakes his head.

"Okay, fine. Then, have you ever kissed someone before, Renjun?" I interrogate.

His nose wrinkles in disgust, "Ew, how did this conversation get so long and gross?"

"Renjun, it's just a simple question." I state, nonchalantly.

"Fine," He answers quickly, "I never got the chance to. So, no."

I let out a laugh of relief, "Well, now I feel better about myself."

Renjun just shrugs, "I just don't get why it's such a big deal."

"How can you know it's not a big deal if you've never tried it?" I suggest.

He stares at me blankly. After pausing to think about my words, a little smile appears on his face.

"Lee Athena, it sounds a little like your trying to get me to kiss you right now."

My eyes widened in denial, "No. I'm really not."

He just chuckles to himself.

Without carefully considering the weight of my next words, I speak, "Although, you did say you didn't think it was a big deal."

"And?" Renjun pressures.

Out of my mouth slips, "So I guess it wouldn't be weird if you did."

He looks at me like I'm dumb, "Are you even listening to what you're saying?"

"I guess not. Never mind, then. I think I'm really tired and delirious. I'm going to bed." I quickly muster out, before practically running back into the apartment.

"Wait."

I run back into the living room and up to my own room. I really think I'm going crazy. It's only after shut the door to my room, that I realize the weight of what I just did. How messed up must I be to basically come on to Huang Renjun?

Huang Renjun!

Someone who's going to be trying to kill me in several days. I just tried to get him to kiss me, even though I'm about to have fake relationship with another boy. Which, Renjun can not know is fake. Otherwise, my whole game will be jeopardized and I could lose all the sponsors.

Knock. Knock.

"Who is it?" I play dumb.

"Lee Athena, open this door." Renjun commands, sternly.

I let him in the room, before beginning to plead with him, "Can you just for-"

Suddenly, he just quickly started leaning in.

Closer and closer.

Then, he just paused from hesitation. It was almost as if he was thinking, am I really about to do this?

However, the next thing I did was the result of no thinking on my part.

I grabbed his face and closed the gap. Oh my god, why are his lips actually so soft? This is so wrong. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Our lips just slightly touched for about eight seconds, before I moved away.

"Oh my god, did I really ju-"

Huang Renjun kisses me hard. This time, our lips began moving. He set a pattern and I just followed his lead. This time it felt less foreign,  almost natural.

If I had to describe the feeling, it felt like I got punched in the stomach, just without the hurt. Instead, it just felt really warm. I almost felt like I could melt into a blazing inferno any second.

It was one of the best things I've ever felt in my life.

He pulls back, studying my facial expression.

"See, I was right. Not a big deal." He coldly shrugs before quickly leaving. I don't stop him, either. This is what I deserve. I'm the one who walked myself into this situation. Maybe it's better, if I just block it out of my memories.

However, as I'm waiting with the rest of the tributes to be called in for examinations, it's the only thing I can think about.

"You look like you're about to throw up. Nervous?" asks a concerned Jaemin, sitting next to me.

"Just a bit," I lie, "I really don't want to mess up."

"Hey, it's okay. I know you're going to be great." He comforts, sweetly.

A mechanical voice comes over the speakers, "Lee Athena."

"Please, just don't kill anyone." Jaemin trys to ease my fake nervousness with a joke.

"No promises." I wink before entering the gym.

I look up to see the Gamemakers, where they had watched us during training. Luckily for me, District 2 is one of the earlier groups they see first. That means, they are more awake and still excited.

I walk over to a table, where I see a large assortment of weapons to choose from. I grab multiple throwing knifes and place all of them in my left hand.

I inhale and look at the human-shaped targets in front of me. There were two targets on the head, chest, and stomach. I inhale, before I finally begin my rampage.

One target after the other, hitting with perfect precision. Even after I completely finish the target directly in front of me. I continue randomly throwing knifes, all precisely hitting the fake-humans.

I stop after there are no more knifes left. Peeking up, I see the Gamemakers clapping in awe.

Although, I'm not done yet. No, I need to give them something that they have no choice but to remember.

I return to the table and pick up an axe. I look up and gave a sweet smile to the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane.

Without looking at the target, I hold the axe behind my head, then throw straight at it.

Once hearing a thud, I smile in delight once I see it has hit the designated spot.

The groin.

With one last innocent smile, I make my exit.

"Oh my gosh, that was absolutely everything!" Doyoung gushed to me, sitting down on the couch.

"What happened?" asked a confused Renjun.

"I hit the target in the dick." I explained.

Doyoung cried out, "Language, Athena!"

"Oh shit, my bad.  I meant the no-no square." I tease. Doyoung is one of those people who are fun to purposely stress out.

"Athena, quit bullying Doyoung." said Taeyong with a hint of playfulness. He came in from the kitchen and turned on the television. Surprisingly, I see Seulgi following him in.

There’s a small part of me that wants to score high for her. Especially, since her outfit is the reason I have gained any support so far. I really don’t want to throw away the opportunity she helped provide me.

On the screen appears the host, Caesar Flickerman. One of the things he was known for was changing his hair color for the games every year. This year, his powdered-blue hair was styled in a low ponytail.

“As you know, the tributes were rated on a scale from one to twelve, after 3 days of careful evaluation. The Gatekeepers would like to acknowledge that it was an exceptional group.

From District One, Jeno with a score of 10. Also, Haechan with a score of 9."

Those were really good scores. Although, nothing unexpected from a Career.

“Then, we have District 2. First, we have Huang Renjun with a 10.”

“Wow!” Doyoung claps loudly. Renjun just cringes at the man.

Caesar’s voice becomes more high pitched, “Then, we have Lee Athena with an 11!”

Well, I guessed they liked my little stunt. Although, I can let this go to my head. Especially, since this means I have to be prepared for a huge target on my head.

“Well done, both of you.” Taeyong praises, content.

We pay attention to the rest of the scores. Jaemin received a ten, which I know he worked hard for. Compared to the Careers, the rest of the tributes were not as high. However, this doesn’t mean they’re not as much as a threat. Many people like to use a strategy of hiding all of their talents until they step into the arena.

We all head back to our rooms. Renjun, of course, avoiding any sort of conversation with me. I lay down on my bed and sigh.

Tomorrow, everything’s going to change.

[thiswasinevitableid]

indruck volcano pls?

Here you go! I based Indrid’s mer-design on a Chinook Salmon.

Duck’s search history is getting weird. 

In his defense, the last few weeks have been pretty damn weird. 

It started two weeks ago, when he was checking tree specimens along the river. One minute he was engrossed in his work, birds chirping and the sky blue above him. The next the hair on the back of his neck was straight up, and he was positive someone, or something, was watching him.

Gradually, the feeling subsided, and he chalked it up to random case of the heebie-jeebies. 

Except, two days later, it happened again. And then again the day after that. Each time he looked around, kept his ears on high-alert, and came up with nothing. The fourth time it happened, he got a glimpse of the back and tail of something human-sized and pinkish-red disappearing beneath the water. 

He knows his wildlife well, but he’d never seen anything like that. That night, he sat down at his computer for research. 

River fish of the pacific northwest?

Biggest species of freshwater fish in pacific northwest?

Are there pink sturgeon?

Pink fish near Mt. Saint Helen's?

How to report illegal, exotic pet selling ring?

The next day, he was leading a tour around the river walk, when something pink-red caught his attention. He kept one eye on it as he spoke, noticed it disappeared under the surface whenever anyone else turned to look it’s way. Towards the end of the tour, he glanced over to find, instead of reddish scales, red eyes watching him from a definitely human face. It blinks, then ducks beneath the current. 

Mermaid sightings in Washington?

Animals commonly mistaken for mermaids?

Are mermaids real?

Proof of mermaids other than that freaking discovery channel mockumentary?

Two days later, he’d been bending over the embankment to see if that was a native turtle or a released pet in the water when his hat dropped of his head and into the water, rushing away before he had a chance to go in after it. It was, as his friend Aubrey would put it, a bummer. That hat had pins from all the parks he’d been too, and the first nametag he was ever given as an official member of the park service. 

Just before his rounds took him away from the river, he spotted something on a rock at the edge of the water.

His hat.

He was about to thank his luck that it got caught on the stone when he noticed that it had clearly been placed there, and that there wasn’t a speck of mud or dead leaves on it. And whoever put it there had thoughtfully weighed it down with several colorful rocks. 

And there were no recent footprints on the shore save for his own. 

“Uh, thanks?” He called out over the water, feeling sillier by the second. No response came. 

He turned, headed up the bank, and swore he heard over the burble, “You are welcome.”

Can mermaids talk?

Are mermaids friendly?

Which brings him to now, several days later, as he’s back in the same patch of water, trying to fish out the turtles that were, indeed, someone’s non-native pet that had been turned loose. 

“You are going to lose your hat again.”

“FUCK!” He stumbles back, landing on his ass in the shallow water. Across from him, peering around a rock, the man who definitely has a fishtail, looks concerned

“Oh dear, in most futures you did not fall.”

“You’re a fuckin’ mermaid. I ain’t crazy! Wait, futures?”

“I can see the future. And no, that is not a thing all merfolk can do, since you were about to ask.”

“I...how...god what the fuck is goin’ on?” His pants are taking on water at an alarming rate, but that is the least of his worries. 

“I am introducing myself to you. I thought that was a custom merfolk and humans had in common?”

“It, uh, it is, but, uh, see, most humans don’t expect to ever meet a merperson on account of we assume you ain’t real.”

The merman sighs, “I know. And those who do see us are often frightened. Or try to capture us for money.” Cautiously, he swims away from the rock and over to Duck, stopping a few feet away, water shallow enough that he can keep his arms resting on the pebbly sand and tail flicking drops of water into the air, “but you are not one such human. Which is why I wanted to know you.”

“You, uh, you wanna know me because I don’t seem like I’m gonna sell you off to a sideshow?”

“Among other things. I have been the steward of this portion of river for years, seen many tend to these woods. You have such an air of caring to you when you work, and such competence, it is fascinating to watch. Also I enjoy that you sometimes speak to the trees.”

“I just want ‘em to know they’re grownin’ well.” Duck mumbles, blushing. 

“It is charming. If it is alright, I would like to continue watching you when you work. Perhaps I could even talk to you while you do, if it is only you and I around?”

“Uh, sure?” Duck shrugs, “can’t promise sparklin conversation, but I ain’t opposed to the company. Might learn more about trees than you ever care to know.”

“Splendid!” The merman claps his hands together, “some day, in return, you can come swim with me and you can learn more about fish and current than you care to know.”

His enthusiasm skips across the water and Duck catches it.

“You got a deal. Name’s Duck, by the way.”

The merman grins, teeth sharper than Duck expects, “It is nice to meet you Duck. I am Indrid.”

Mermaids carnivorous?

Should you offer to share your lunch with a mermaid?

Indrid, true to his word, appears now and then over the next few days. Sometimes, if the trails or river are busy, Duck will just see flashes of tail, or a flicker of a face peeking around a rock. 

Other times Indrid will float on his back or even climb up onto a rock to watch him work. He asks Duck questions about birds, and trees, the various behaviors of humans that confound him. Duck, in turn, asks him about his life in the river, about the layout of merfolk up and down this part of the state. 

Some days, Indrid is nowhere to be seen. But on those days, Duck will spot pictures drawn into the mud or sand of the riverbank, as high up as Indrid was able to manage. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a drawing of a merperson waving. Others it tells Duck where to spot a rare salamander or songbird. Once or twice, it’s reminder of something Duck needs to do that day after work, something he meant to write down but didn’t and is glad for the reminder of. He assumes Indrid must use his future sight for those. 

On the days when it’s only messages in the sand, he’s always sure to leave a happy face (or the words “thank you” once he teaches Indrid how to recognize it).

It’s been three days of sand messages, the longest stretch yet (Duck misses him, keeps hoping he’ll turn and see that toothy smile) when Indrid finally appears and asks, “would you like to swim with me tonight?”

Given that it’s pushing a  hundred degrees (the kind of day that makes him feel as though the mountain will erupt at any moment) and he’s fairly certain Indrid either can’t or won’t eat him, Duck says yes. 

When his shift is over, he heads down to their agreed meeting space, an inlet that’s off limits to the public and has a calm current. 

“I assume you wear those because otherwise the water is too cold for you?” He points at Duck’s swimtrunks, the spare pair he keeps in the car.

“Kinda. Mostly to, uh, preserve our modesty.”

“Ah.” Indrid says with the tone and nod that Duck knows means, “I understand but think it is a bit silly.”

As soon as he’s up to his chest in the water, Indrid is swimming around him, talking animatedly and brushing his body along Duck’s back. Duck shivers at the contact, tells himself it’s from the unfamiliar, cool scales. 

Their conversation turns to Indrid’s younger years, and he admits to harassing a flock of college students who were tubing and kept chucking their beer cans into the water.”

“How’d you get ‘em to stop?”

“My tail is rather strong, so I got it under their tubes and just-” he flicks his tail out of the water with a huge splash, the bulk of which hits Duck. 

“Ackhey!” He splutters, giggling. 

“ApologiesAH!” Indrid shakes his head in surprise when Duck splashes him back. The human gets another wave directed at him by Indrid’s tail, and when his vision clears the merman is gone. 

“Uh oh.” He says just as Indrid pops out of the water in front of him, drenching him as he does. The tail sneaks behind his legs and knocks them out from beneath him. But before he goes under, willowy arms grab him. 

“I win.” Indrid grins.

“Guhhuh.” He flails a bit, trying to right himself, and his hand slides up Indrid’s tail. 

“Mmmmmm.” Indrid sighs as he helps him up, “that feels nice.”

“Is it, uh, can I do it again? It’s kinda cool, never felt anythin’ quite like it.”

“Of course.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder as the human runs his hand up and down his tail, noting the dark flecks in the red.

“It been the same color all these years, or does it change?”

“That’s a fascinating question….”

They talk until the sun goes down, resting against each other all the while. 

Merman tail sexual thing?

Can a human fall in love with a merman?

Can a merman love a human?

Merman porn?

Two days later, Duck is just starting his rounds by the river when Indrid emerges, eyes frantic. 

“Duck, Duck, the volcano-”

“Oh fuck me, is it-”

“No, it is not erupting again, but, but there will be an earthquake on account of it’s seismic activity. You need to clear the visitor center, the roof is going to come down and it will kill twenty five people. You have fifteen minutes. 

Duck runs, is winded by the time he reaches the center, and no matter how he tries, his coworkers will not listen to him (he wishes Juno was working today, he might be able to tell her the whole truth).

Out of ideas and time, he pulls the fire alarm. 

The center evacuates in a hurry, and just as his boss is about to ask what the hell he’s doing, the ground shudders once beneath them. Then again, more violently, thirty seconds and an eternity all once of cracking and shaking and shouts of alarm. 

The visitor center is ruins. 

But everybody is alive. 

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

Duck rolls his pants up, wading a little ways into the water as he chucks stones into it

“You did it.” Indrid surfaces, swimming over to float off to his left.

“Yeah. Guess I did. Got two days suspension for pullin’ the fire alarm though.”

“I am sorry.”

“Ain’t the end of the world. Uh, are there any more of those comin’?”

Indrid thinks for a moment, “No, none so severe in the forseeable future.”

“And the volcano?” He steps into deeper water.

“Still not erupting any time soon.”

“Can, uh, can I ask you the odds of one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Uh, what, what are the chances of you and I kissin’?”

Indrid swims the few feet between them, looping his arms around Duck’s shoulders and planting a single, cool kiss on his lips. 

“Indrid.” Duck whispers, ready to wade in over his head just for another kiss, knowing for certain Indrid would never ask him to.

“Before you ask: yes, my sweet, I do see many more of those in our future.”

[alloveroliver]

Oliver X MC "The Punishment Game."

Rating: Smut 18+

Kinktober: October 1st, Masks | Formal Wear

A|N: Oliver Knight, masks, blindfold, spanking arms restrained, lots of teasing :3

WC: 3400+

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

The music in the ballroom jumped with every pulse of her heart. Alice’s feet protested the high heeled pumps she wore that match her formal gown. People nodded her way as she excused herself through the flashing crowd to find rest at one of the empty tables away from the dance floor.

Her parched tongue felt like cotton from all the exertion she'd done with her friends, making yet another glass of champagne look absolutely delicious. She swiped the glass off the masked butler's tray and held the sweating flute in her hand. Moisture dripped down the side, and she licked her lips before taking a sip. 

The crisp elixir sated her taste buds and soothed her parched tongue for the moment. Alice sat the drink on the white table cloth and took a seat in the wooden chair. The crowd looked like strangers, all wearing identity covering masks that were designed to match their costumes. 

Alice reached up at touched hers. The jade feathers sticking out of the side stood tall, around and emerald encrusted base. With gold flecks and intricate designs, she knew only one person it could be from. 

Her invitation to the ball came taped to a large box filled with a costume and mask. There was no indication who it was from or why it was given to her specifically, but, here she was. She wore that very outfit to the ball and waited for someone, anyone, to fess up to who it may have been from. 

As the hours ticked by, she wondered if the culprit would ever show their face, so to speak. The beat boomed over the speakers, and the party raged on well past midnight. The townspeople mixed with the red and black officers raged on in the central quarter. 

Alice only met a couple of people she knew at the party as they freely introduced themselves. It was difficult to tell most of the women apart since they wore fancy wigs and extravagantly dressed, unlike their daily wear. 

Alice took another swig of her champagne and ended up downing the whole glass. After sitting for a moment, her tipsy buzz faded just long enough for her to realize she needed something that would actually rehydrate her. 

She smoothed down a piece of her hair that fell out of her curly updo and stood to her aching feet again. Remembering there were water fountains near the restrooms, she began making her way down the long hall away from the party toward them. Feathers atop her head bounced with each stride.

As the music faded, it became easy for her to hear her own thoughts again. The sound of her heels tapping the marble floors began to ring clear. Holding her feathers up out of the way, she leaned down to take a gulp of crisp cold water that sprang up from the fountain. She pushed the button for a long time, taking deep gulps of the clear liquid until her stomach was satisfied.

"There you are, darling." A deep voice echoed off the hallway walls.

Alice turned her head, wiping away stray droplets that clung to her lips with her fingertips. 

"Um, hello?" She looked the tall figure up and down. 

The man wore an all-black tux with a black bowtie and a solid black mask. His hair looked black in the dim hallway making his pale skin the central aspect of him to stick out. Handsome was the first word that came to her mind. 

The tux was obviously customized to his person, coming in at his sides showing off his lean physique with a play on angles. He took a step closer, his matte black shoes tapping on the floor. She wondered why she hadn't heard them following behind her before, then again maybe she did and was too preoccupied with her thirst that she didn't hear it.

As she moved closer, his pink lips stood out more. They were plump and cured up into a smile the longer she stared. “You look good in my gift. However, I already knew you would.”

"Who are you?" She asked timidly, feeling slightly bad she couldn't recognize the man before her. 

"You can't tell?" His lips quirked up even more as if that was his plan all along. 

A disguise seemed to be precisely what he was going for. Who was it that Alice knew that called her darling? Alice wracked her tipsy brain and found nothing.

"I'm sorry, please forgive me. But no, I cannot." She used candor and cursed the last few glasses of champagne. If she hadn’t had that last drink maybe she would have figured it out by now. She wasn’t too hard on herself though, the man clearly didn't want to be easily recognized by anyone.

He stepped even closer, and the scent of his cologne permeated her nose. She noticed the black button-down shirt under the black vest he wore. The patterns of the black fabrics were slightly different, matching raised diagonals and horizontal lines instead of matching colors. 

"This isn't the first time," He tisked, frowning as if he were tasting something sour. 

Alice knew that sound. She placed her pointing finger to her chin and searched her memory again for where she'd heard it before. A giggle bubbled out from her lips instead of an idea. She shook her head to push the fog away. 

"Are you going to tell me who you are?" Alice asked as the man grew closer. He kept a comfortable distance between them and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His relaxed pose sent her another clue. 

"I will give you three guesses," He crossed his arms. 

The way he held his hand on his elbow, holding his arm with the other she knew immediately who he was. She'd seen the man she was dating in the same pose hundreds of times in the past several weeks. The scent of his cologne, though mixed with a more bodied fragrance for his formal attire, still hinted at the same man. 

She smiled flirtatiously and crossed her own arms to mimic him. She knew immediately who this was. 

"And what if I lose?" She cocked a brow despite her features being hidden by the mask. 

"Then we will have to play a punishment game." Deep vocals echoed off the empty halls reminding her how very alone they were. 

She listened carefully to his voice through her tipsy haze, past the loud thumping music, and focused on the way he spoke. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Oliver. 

"I'd like to know what the game entails." 

"How about you guess first, then I'll tell you the rules." He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and walked around her. From behind, he leaned in close to her ear and added. "What do you say?"

"Deal." 

The man laughed at her quick response. He stood up straight and tugged his vest to smooth out any creases. 

"Okay, Guess number 1"

"Lancelot," Alice answered in a flash. She smiled, hoping not to end the rouse with the obvious fail. 

"I am clearly not Lancelot you airhead. Lancelot is blond." 

"Oh," She feigned a pout. "Wishful thinking." She smirked, then dashed off into one of the empty rooms in the hall. 

"Get over here," Oliver snapped, reaching for her hips but missing her entirely.

The room was filled with stacks of chairs and folded up tables. The windows were uncovered, leaving the moon to light the ample storage space. 

The man in black caught her from behind and picked her up. Spinning her around, he sat her on the end of a granite countertop and parted her knees. The dress skirt moved up with her legs, and he was easily able to fit his hips between her thighs. The countertop seemed to be part of a permanent bar they had for events that took place in this very room. The custom height was perfect for their bodies to fit together nicely.

"Guess number 2," 

His eyes were glowing with the moon, making them look like an impenetrable fog. Oliver was outlined with a silvery haze, complimenting his deep black attire. 

"Um," She looked him over thoughtfully, checking him out thoroughly. She placed her hand on her chin to further her teasing ruse. "Sirius?"

Oliver tisked again, catching her hands in his grip. He pinned them up above her head with one hand and guided her to lay back with the other. 

"Seems like you want to be punished, little girl." Oliver let his voice drop near her ear. 

Alice's heart raced with every syllable of the word 'punished.' Playfully, she jerked against his grip and smiled up at him. 

Their masks would get in the way if they wished to be any closer. 

"You never said who I was." She forced herself to breathe slowly. 

He smirked and used his free hand to push her mask up. As he revealed her face, his features relaxed and softened. "Alice. The Alice. My Alice." He bit out her name each time before revealing her flushed face. The air in the room hit her warm cheeks, making her feel oddly exposed. 

"Your Alice?" She taunted despite her visibly disadvantaged position. She and Oliver had dated, but he never officially asked her to become his. It was something she'd hoped for, but he had yet to ask outright. 

He didn't respond. As if he was worried for a moment that he'd said something wrong. He kissed the side of her neck, gently grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. Raised fleshed pebbled down her arm and she sighed into the sensation. 

"One more guess, then I will explain to you how a punishment game works." He considered  collarbone before kissing the dip. 

"Dark hair, gray eyes, pale skin, tall, handsome... with an attitude." She listed off his traits. "It could only be one person I know." 

Oliver lifted his eyes to hers. His pupils dilated, and his lips parted. He waited with bated breath for her to finish. 

"Yes? Well, spit it out."

"You're…. You're Harr." 

In a flash, Oliver undid the black scarf that hung from his waist and quickly tied her wrists together. His brows pinched, and he was mumbling something inaudible between pursed lips. 

His teeth were grit as he spat out his words. "Rule number 1, you must remain quiet, so we don't get found out" He tightened the scarf and neatly tied it to the faucet. 

"Rule number 2, You will beg me for each punishment."

As he began listing off the rules in a frustrated state, Alice couldn't help but smile. He had to know she was teasing him, yet it felt so good to watch him squirm. 

Oliver pulled her masked back down, but not entirely so that her vision as blocked. The soft fabric worked wonders as a blindfold, keeping her entirely in the dark. 

Alice squirmed against the restraints but froze when she felt his breath tickling her cheek. She sensed he was just above her lips. In a moment of bravery, Alice pressed her face forward until her mouth melted against his. 

Oliver nibbled her bottom lip and kissed her back fervently. The heat in his kiss lit her body on fire. He poured all his emotions into that kiss, frustration and lust, leaving her breathless when they finally parted. 

"Let me touch you." He spoke as more of a request than a demand.

"I thought I was already yours,"

Oliver didn't speak for a long moment. "That doesn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one."

"Will you let me touch you?" He rephrased his statement, punctuating every word with a slight pause.

"You can if you like." 

"I would like to very much." His voice trailed off as he moved away. She could hear movement from where he stood but was unable to see what he was doing. 

A hand began to travel up her ankle, moving her formal dress up her leg. Once at her knee, Oliver flipped the bottom of the dress up and revealed her panties. 

"Oh, these are cute," Oliver slipped his finger between her thighs, hooking around the center part of the fabric. His knucle brushed her heated sex. "Very cute." He pulled and yanked the panties down to her ankles. "But they look even cuter on the floor." Alice closed her legs as the blush on her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears. "I know you can't see them for yourself, but take my word for it." 

He placed both of his large hands on her knees and pulled them apart. His breathing hitched as he seemed to take in the sight before him. Her elbows were slightly bent, hands clasped together while the scarf held her in place. 

Alice bit her lip and turned her head away. Her vision was blocked, but she felt exposed for the second time tonight, making her stomach flip. 

Oliver kneeled before her and pressed his lips to her inner knee. Another kiss met her thigh while his fingers dug into her skin, holding her legs apart. 

"Now, ask me nicely to bite you." Despite his murmuring against her skin, he still sounded as demanding as ever. 

"I- what?" 

"You must ask me to bite you, darling. I won't repeat myself again." 

"But…" She fidgeted her legs in his grasp. 

"Either I bite you here, or I flip you over, and you can beg me to spank you. How's that?" 

Under the mask, Alice's eyes went wide. Her hands gripped together as she processed his words. Oliver's lips hovered over her thigh, kissing tenderly while he waited. 

"I think…" She began, chewing her bottom lip. 

"Yes?" His breath wafted over her thighs. 

"I… I want you to spank me." 

Oliver stood in one fluid motion and pulled her hips off the counter. He twisted her to face the granite surface and kicked her legs apart. The dress fell back down, but he pushed it up and bunched it at her waist. 

His hand gripped her ass and massaged her muscles. Alice buried her face in the crook of her arm and took in a deep breath. 

"Please-" 

"This is hot..." Oliver whispered. "Please, what?" He spoke in a louder, more commanding tone. 

"Mmm," She squirmed at his touch. "Please spank me." 

It was the pop she heard first before the sting on her skin sizzled. She yelped then pressed her lips together to halt anymore sound. The sensation went right to her core, igniting her lust like a wildfire. The heat spread down her legs, and her knees went weak. Alice was glad to have the counter there holding her up, so she didn't waver under his punishment. 

"Again… Please." She whispered, her voice echoing off the countertop. 

Oliver's hand came down on the other side, sending more heat through her body. The tips of her toes tingled, and Alice let out a sigh. However, the sound was laced with more than she bargained for, making Oliver's ears perk up. 

"Are you really moaning at this?" He tisked in a teasing manner and ran his hand along her core. 

The pad of his finger slid easily along her slick center. He paused at the apex of her sex, pushing softly on her delicate clit. 

"Tell me, do you think that was enough punishment?" 

"Do you?" She snapped back with an equal attitude. "It's your punishment, after all." 

Oliver pressed his finger down hard on her bundle of nerves and listened to her hiss in ecstasy. Her thighs quivered once he set a slow and agonizing speed circling the helpless nub. He added heaps of pressure, making her legs jerk each time he hit a strong nerve.  

"I think you should remain tied up, as further punishment." 

His finger dipped slowly into her hole, and Alice clinched her walls against the digit. He twisted the finger around to press against the soft patch just inside. 

"Oh… my god." Alice moaned, breath now fogging the counter with each pant. "Faster"

"You are in no position to demand pleasure from me." His voice dropped in a dominating fashion. 

"Please?" She tried to beg, but the loss of sensation followed her helpless plead. 

Suddenly, his lips were hovering over her ear. His body was encasing hers from behind, and his hand gripped the back of her hair. 

"No." He breathed the word out like a puff of smoke. 

Alice gulped, waiting for his lips to meet her skin. The electricity between the small distance from his mouth to her neck was palpable. She squirmed in his iron grip until he made a move. 

"Let me fuck you." He whispered again, assuredly letting his nerves dissipate before he asked this time. 

"Is that a question…" Her voice wavered with the weight of excitement and anticipation. Her stomach filled with butterflies and twisted with knots. 

"It is." 

She gulped, wishing she could see his face at this moment. The mask still covered her eyes, and her hands were still tied above her head. Alice was unable to touch him to map out his features with her fingers. Nor was she able to see his expressions and memorize every nuance each one had. 

"Yes…" She pressed her backside against his hips while his lips met her neck in a flurry of small kisses. His lips moved in a pattern, tickling the skin beneath her ear. "Don't keep me waiting" She smirked, and Oliver let out a mild chuckle. 

His hand left her body while he whispered into her ear. "Where did you get all this attitude from?" His jest was punctuated with a nip to the shell of her ear. 

Alice's heart pounded against the counter top's surface, hearing him shift his slacks behind her. 

"You."

"Ah," He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Good excuse, but I don’t buy it."

Without much warning, he pressed his full length within her. His breath left his lungs in one huff while his hand moved along the roundness of her ass. 

"Oh, fuck." Alice mewled. Her cunt trembled against the sudden stretching. 

He took another breath and moved his hips incrementally. In the dark, her senses began to heighten. Every touch of his fingertips trailing along her skin sent a spark through her nerves. 

He stayed as close as he could to her as if he couldn't bear to be apart for long. His hands moved to brush her hair to one side to allow his lips to travel over more surface area. Every thrust was slow as he buried himself as deep as possible. 

Alice's breath picked up despite his slow tempo. Her pussy quivered with each deep movement that she thought she could see stars behind the mask. 

"I'm close." She moaned after minutes of his slow torture while pulling on the ties that bound her hands. "I can't hold back." Her back arched while her walls clenched tight to him. 

"Rule number  3," His breathless huff gave away how much pleasure he was experiencing. "You have to say my name when you cum." His tone was laced with a smugness that Alice knew all too well. 

She let out a breathless laugh and felt him speed up. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back into the speed with him. 

Her core ached with every second she held back her release. She knew the game was over when toes curled and eyes scrunched closed. A warmth washed over her body, making her mouth drop open and her thighs sake. 

"Fuck!" She groaned, trying to grasp at something with her tied hands. "Fuck, Ol-iver" She moaned loudly into the room, letting her voice echo off the under decorated walls. "Oliver! D-Don't… stop." She pleaded. “Please don’t stop”

He didn't stop. He went faster as if to reward her for following his rules. It prolonged her release, allowing wave after wave of trembling pleasure to wash over her being.

Soon her muscles went slack, and Oliver reached over her to untie the scarf from her wrists. Twisting her around, he panted while gently kissing her wrists. Her dress fell back down to her ankles as she stood to her feet. 

He removed the mask from her eyes, and he let her do the same from him. They tossed their masks to the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips came together in kind. Oliver bestowed a heated, dizzying kiss to Alice's lips while he held her close against his chest. The party felt like a million miles away by now. All that was left was just the two of them alone in the universe.  

.

.

.

Oof, starting with my bae. XD

[purplesurveys]

1011

1. Five facts about your current relationship OR five facts about your single life.

a) I haven’t been truly single in...around 6 years, so it’s been a bit of an adjustment.

b) It was my last day as an intern yesterday (but they hired me, so I’m staying after all, haha) and since I’ve felt like I gained a family in the last two months, I thought it would be okay to give professionalism a break and share what had actually been going on with me on my first day on the job, aka when the breakup was still fresh and I was still figuring out how to function all over again. It unsurprisingly surprised everyone and my superior said something like, “Omg it’s the [company name] curse; it’s so strong it broke you guys up before you even got hired” which got a laugh out of me.

c) I’m not interested in seeing other people.

d) Probably wouldn’t be, for a long time. My trust has been irreparably broken.

e) Seeing couples in public has now become annoying. I’m happy for them, but it’s still annoying.

2. Five facts about a past relationship.

a) I’ve known her since kindergarten, but we didn’t become friends till 7th grade and didn’t start dating until junior year of high school.

b) We were legal with her family and her parents loved me and I them. On the other hand, I was never able to come out to my family because she broke up with me before I could be able to do so.

c) She introduced me to vaping.

d) We were never able to truly travel together, which we always planned to do after graduating. The farthest we reached was Batangas.

e) She never knew where she wanted to eat whenever we were out, so I was mostly the one who decided which restaurant we were going to have lunch or dinner in.

3. Five facts about your mother.

a) She has always worked in hotels, which is great because it has always allowed us to get room and buffet discounts, heh.

b) Her family (aka my grandparents, her, and my uncles) struggled financially for a little bit when my grandpa lost his job when she was in college. When her friends would go to fast-food restaurants, my mom would always decline, saying she had schoolwork to finish. In reality she just couldn’t afford anything, and the only money she held was for public transport.

c) She is a little childish considering her age, and I cannot stand her petty tantrums. She was childish even when I was a kid, and I believe my emotional well-being suffered because of that.

d) She has a high pain tolerance and the only time I’ve seen her struggle was when she was getting a tattoo on the back of her shoulder.

e) She is also extremely religious and it especially grinds my gears when she gets hypocritical about it, which is just about all the time.

4. Five facts about your father.

a) He has only ever dated my mom.

b) He grew up extremely poor and at some point his parents actually stopped being able to afford his tuition. Instead of being kicked out, a few nuns who served in the school paid my grandparents a visit and told them my dad would be given a scholarship since he had good grades and it would have been a waste if he got expelled.

c) He was a dancer in high school, knows how to play the guitar, and he also apparently knows how to draw very well. There’s a lot I don’t know about him, considering he has worked abroad my whole life.

d) He breaks or loses his reading glasses once every few months. I know which parent I definitely take after.

e) I have never seen him cry.

5. Five facts about your sibling. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all!

a) She had problems crying in school until she was in around 2nd or 3rd grade.

b) She’s in college and is currently taking up digital filmmaking.

c) She’s the biggest introvert I know. I’ve never seen her be willing to do anything silly; not even with her friends.

d) She can’t handle spicy food.

e) Her main interests have shifted from Harry Potter, to One Direction, to 5SOS, and now K-pop. I believe she’s into Seventeen the most.

6. Five facts about your town.

a) The upper part of the city offers amazing views of the Metro Manila skyline, which has recently made the place a kinda popular nightlife destination.

b) There’s a lot of hidden gem restaurants here but because most people spend more time complaining about how far my city is and how difficult it is to get to than actually just making the damn ride over here, the restaurants stay hidden and uncrowded. Their loss.

c) Used to be massively underdeveloped for most of my childhood and teenage years. Now there are several malls and I can easily go to a McDonald’s, Burger King, and Starbucks right outside our village.

d) Because you basically have to drive through a mountain to get to the upper part of the city, it’s not the safest highway and fatal crashes are unfortunately common.

e) The city is known for its suman, except I hate Filipino rice cakes and this actually doesn’t do anything for me.

7. Five facts about your house.

a)  It used to have a balcony until we had that transformed into another bedroom. So technically it is still a balcony; it just hasn’t had that purpose for a while now.

b) My mom used a little cheat in our dining room and installed a huge wall mirror. Most people visiting for the first time always note how much larger it made the room (and thus the house) look.

c) I live in a neighborhood where the houses are of the same model and look (think the Squidville episode from Spongebob). That said, balconies are included in all properties. When my parents decided to renovate ours and turn it into a room, so many houses slowly followed suit as well. It was amusing to see it unfold, knowing the idea undoubtedly originated from us. It was like a revolution.

d) We don’t have a gate, which irritates me to no end because it allows noisy neighborhood kids to just march and run around our property. Sometimes they even make it to our carport and backyard, ugh. :(

e) Speaking of backyard, the landscaping for it used to be a pebble mosaic designed to look like a swan. But over the years the quality deteriorated, so my parents to opted to have the pebbles crushed into tiny rocks and embedded onto the ground. I don’t exactly know what this technique is called, but yeah.

8. Five facts about your niece or nephew. If you have more than one, pick one. Or do them all! Skip if you don’t have one. I don’t have any, but I do have a godson so I’m going with him as I don’t want to leave any section blank.

a) He was born sometime in December. I honestly don’t remember when, loooooool. Worst godmother ever.

b) He’s actually one of my first cousins, but I guess my aunt saw something in me and wanted me to be his godson. I’ve been a terrible one, though; I’ve never bought him gifts or money or anything – to be fair, I was made a ninang when I was like, 14 or 15 lmao.  But I can definitely make up for it now that I’m starting to earn my own money.

c) He’s the calmer, sweeter version of his older brother. His kuya was a pretty naughty kid when he was his age.

d) He mainly speaks English, as how most younger parents raise their kids these days. He understands Filipino of course, but he mostly communicates in English.

e) The last time I saw him, he was in the middle of a ridiculously adorable interviewing phase where he’d approach anyone in the family and start asking them a series of questions: what’s your favorite color? What food can’t you live without? What’s your favorite subject in school? Would you rather win $1 million dollars or know how to fly? It typically got exhausting after the 25th question, but it was so cute nonetheless. None of us have any idea where it came from.

9. Five facts about your education.

a) I went to a private, all-girls, Catholic school from kinder up to high school, and then moved to a public, co-educational, non-sectarian university for college. It was the very epitome of culture shock, lemme tell ya.

b) Some classes I had in my first school that might be uncommon in others have included penmanship (because my school has its own brand of cursive), environmental education, and I don’t remember what this next class was called anymore but we were basically taught how to write professionally? Like how to write cover letters and resumés and all.

c) My first school is extremely homophobic and went so far as to ‘hire’ spies  tasked to check up on who’s been in same-sex relationships, list them all down, and report them to the guidance office so that they can be called one by one and be interrogated, and for the most part, pressured to come out. I don’t know if they still do this, but the younger batches are definitely more vocal and woke now thanks to social media and I doubt those practices would still fly today.

d) My university education was a breath of fresh air. Suddenly people were wearing sleeveless tops, mobs and rallies were a common sight to me, and my instructors were now atheist and not shoving Catholicism and Jesus and salvation down my throat. I loved every single day of it.

e) The most interesting class I took in college was a course called Pornography in Electronic Media, under the broadcast communication department. Getting to tell people I take a class where we sit down to watch porn was such a fucking ride.

10. Five facts about your job.

a) I got hired last Wednesday, but I had been interning for the company for around two months before they extended the offer.

b) I’m pretty much gonna be doing the same things I did as an intern, except I’m now accountable for any boo-boos I make HAHAHAHA. Also, I’m gonna be paid a lot more, obviously, which is sweet. I really thought we interns were severely underpaid considering the work that we help with on a daily basis.

c) My role is going to be with another department which is a little scary because it means the things I learned with the department I actually interned at will be pretty much useless. I’ll be starting from scratch again, but I’m still excited.

d) It’s a work-from-home situation, which is a relief for me because I don’t have to wake up early and I don’t have to face traffic. 

e) My job interview for the position was actually a bit of a bomb because I absolutely fumbled with and messed up the first question I was asked; and since first impressions matter, I really thought I lost the gig from the very start of the interview. I made up for it as the interview continued and fortunately was able to break the ice and build a rapport with the team members who spoke with me, and I guess I did enough for them to want to take me in anyway.

For those who are curious, I blanked the fuck out when they asked “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t in your resumé.” Slowest 15 seconds of my life.

[zombriekid]

The Devil Takes Care of His Own 2/?? [Alastor/Gender Neutral Reader]

Series: Hazbin Hotel

Chapter Name: Miscommunication 

Chapter Summary: miscommunication runs amok at the hasbin hotel and you’re at the center of it all 

The Has-been Hotel is... you honestly don’t know what you were expecting when Niffty described the place but it sure as hell wasn’t... all of this.

It’s grandiose in both concept and execution, a towering beast of red brick and daunting spires and white marquees lights that draw the gaze up, up, up all seven plus stories until you’re gawking at the luminous, colossal eye nestled at the tippy top of the building; an amalgamation of various parts, such as the rusty boiler of an old locomotive on the left side and the splintering ruins of a ship smashed into the right, it’s as if the architecture had whipped up a variety of blueprints, couldn’t decide on which one to use, then hurled them at the wall to see what stuck. Each individual structure stacks on one another at such awkward angles, not enough to topple over but sufficient to deceive your brain into thinking that it will.

The sort of anxiety that you get when a cup sits dangerously close to the edge of a table.

Niffty skips from one foot over to the other in an energetic, repetitious fashion until they both carry her closer to the grand double-door style entrance, and with a flourish of her skirt she twirls around until she’s gracing you with a toothy grin. “This is it, Newbie!” The declaration is made, and you feel the skin around your mouth pull into a smile of your own before you can even think about it. Her joy is infectious. 

“Cool!” You respond, “umm... I’m gonna kinda stick around until you can get inside, is that okay?”

Her grin quickly drops and her brow pinches, though neither are done out of disgust or anger or any sort of negative reaction. If anything she merely looks confused. Then she asks her favorite question: “why?”

“Cause- I dunno, what if it’s locked?”

“But.. it’s a hotel. Why would it be locked?”

“I don’t- friggin know! Look, I just.. have to make sure you get inside safely! For my peace of mind.”

Something clicks in her head, you can tell by the way her face slackens, the way her eye widens a fraction, and how her already open expression just... opens up more. What this all means you can’t say for sure but you’re hoping that it stems from the epiphany of self preservation and survival instincts, or rather her lack thereof. You can’t afford to worry about her well-being after this. Got an un-life to live and all that.

A smile, tiny in size but genuine in nature, blooms on her face, and warm, fuzzy relief swells in your chest at the sigh; seems the little lady finally gets it.

“You should come inside and meet everybody, Newbie.”

...

Or not-

That’s-

You-

That’s not- the response that-

“W-why?”

The giggle she emits is light and airy, girlish- not quite like a child’s or even a teenager’s yet akin to. Like she knows something that you don’t. “I think you’ll like them, hell you might even become friends!”

“I don’t need- I have friends-” the rest of the statement disconnects from your voice due to the emotional and mental whiplash you’re currently suffering. Because this is not the direction you were anticipating. The direction you were hoping. A moment of clarity to break apart the cloud of teenage hormones- to bridge the gap between childhood and adulthood in her head so that her sense of self preservation might serve her better in the future! That’s all you’re wanting.

Accountability from her. Not an assessment on how pathetic she finds your existence.

But then her smile slips into something a little more somber and the wind in your sails- that is the ire in your throat- immediately deflates. “Please?” She asks.

Hear that? Those are your heartstrings being tuned and plucked and strummed by a diabolical mastermind forever trapped in the body of a teenage girl. Under your breath do you curse the softness in your chest as your feet begin pursuing her prints.

____________________________________

There’s something off about the hotel’s entrance, and you’re already aware of what that something is for it lacks any semblance of subtlety and tact. 

The walls don’t match.

That is to say there’s quite a large patch that coils around the doors from one side of the moulding to the other, with the jump between textures and slightly off-coloring of the material a harsh sensation. “Repairs from an intruder” Niffty tells you; “a big ass red flag” is what you’d call it.

The youngen grasps one of the dusky doorknobs and you have just enough time to note the twin stained glass panels on either door before she shoulders one of them open- oh fuck, these doors are so much bigger than her!

That’s too goddamn endearing.

Crossing the entrance’s threshold and into the foyer doesn’t leave you with any flesh wounds or broken bones, which is a normal expectation otherwise, yet still that doesn’t embolden even an iota of morale. Just makes the oxygen in your lungs slip through pursed lips.

The interior’s lovely, though.

It has a particular aesthetic to it, a sort of old timey feel inspired by early 1900s Hollywood- gold trimming glistens in the low light around the wall’s seams, a wombo combo of creepy eyes and apple silhouette patterns smatters across the wallpaper and windows and furniture, and varying yet complimentary shades of red- some orange based, others with purple undertones- as far as your eyes can see. Chipped marble statues stand tall along the length of the rich, ruby red rug, and both design choices run down the walkway between your feet and the front desk. Safe to say the rest of the establishment follows this decorative draft.

It’s all very gaudy- not something you would’ve chosen.

Niffty announces her arrival with the verbal enthusiastic accompaniment of a “new friend”, which makes the skin on your face heat up, makes you feel coy, however, then her declaration is only met with the ripples of her voice bouncing from wall to burgundy wall, and the silence (emptiness) becomes baffling.

And a quick glance around the space the two of you occupy yields no other results, it’s just the two of you.

Empty.

Obviously there’s electricity in the building, you can easily point out the amber light sources and random puffs of cool air from the air conditioning, so it’s nearly safe to say that this hotel is functioning. At least somewhat.

Don’t most, if not all, functioning hotels have... tenants? People checking in? Employees, managers, a friggin cock roach?! Life?

Why keep the lights on if no one else is here? No one else except... you and Niffty. Why would she bring you here? Knowingly, of all things, given how she spoke of this place with such familiarity. Unless...

No.

Your eyes find her red, curly locks- she wouldn’t- and the hairs on your arms rise with the pebbling texture on your skin- she wouldn’t- and, oh, how the comprehension of age old adages such as “stranger danger” and “curiosity killed the cat” spreads in your chest.

You had no reason to trust her four hours ago, and you have no reason to trust her now.

Seems like her self preservation isn’t the only one that needs fine tuning around here.

Slowly, quietly, you lift your leg and just as discreetly lower it back down behind you, and you mirror this silent shuffle on your right, back and forth, until the tips of your fingers caress a cool, grainy surface. The doors.

Feel for the doorknob- “huh, is no one here?” she mumbles- a metallic globe nestles into the meat of your palm- “that’s weird”- your fingers fold around the bulb- “I was hoping that- what’re you doing, Newbie?”- the knob turns, not by you. It’s not you. You’re not twisting the door open.

The doorknob is moving and it’s not because of you.

A sensation of lofty weightlessness replaces the solid slab against your back, a flurry of butterflies erupts in the pit of your stomach, and the visual of Niffty standing amidst dim lighting slips into the recesses of your peripheral as you fall backwards with the retreating door. However, a pair of hands immediately clench around your biceps and from that point of contact you can physically feel their arms expend force to halt your body’s natural inclination to follow the pull of gravity.

“Whoa there!” Someone says from behind- the owner of the hands and your personal savior, you’re assuming. And judging by the higher, decidedly more effeminate pitch of the voice, your pillar of support is a young lady.

Brief peek up through your lashes confirms all suspicions and you’re, like, ninety five percent sure you’ve fallen in love.

A young gal, somewhere in her early twenties, is staring back at you with her groomed brows creasing the impossibly pale skin of her forehead. But it’s the way she’s looking at you, the manner of which you’re able to meet her lovely doe eyes, is what leaves you weak in the knees.

She’s hunched over you. Spine bowed, shoulders raised, neck craned, spun gold tresses spilled around her face kind of hunched because she’s taller than  you by a significant amount.

You’re ready to go ahead and propose.

“Umm, hi there,” the (hopefully) future Mrs. Newbie says through a lopsided grin, “are you okay?”

This next moment of stupidity will hound your psyche later on tonight until the only thing that lulls you to sleep is the sheer exhaustion of socially awkward-induced anxiety, however in the meantime there’s no stopping the response that jettisons out of your mouth. “I need to call heaven because they’re missing an angel.”

“... what?”

“I mean my legs must be broken cause I’ve fallen for you.”

____________________________________

Over a glass of water, serviced by an individual whom you can only describe as a winged grump cat- and was, supposedly, here the entire time you were questioning a child’s integrity- is where you apologize to the blonde hotel owner, Charlie; she attempts to wave it off with a flick of her wrist but this doesn’t suffice, not for you at least.

“No no, I’m really sorry- it’s just...” at a momentary loss for words, your index fingernail lightly scrapes into the grainy pattern of the bar. “I’m fairly new here so a lot of things are still pretty jarring.”

“Guess that explains the meat suit, then.”

This astute observation comes from her companion, a long-legged fellow by the name of Angel Dust who’s currently scrutinizing you with his sharp, mix-matched eyes; at a whopping seven foot something this guy looms over everyone in the room with all four arms laced over the tuft of white fur billowing out of the plunging collar of his suit. Bug-based, you think, like an arachnid maybe but with six limbs instead of eight.

“-arachnids are not insects because-”

Nope, none of that, not gonna have an episode spice up your (less than) stellar first impression.

“Yep, been here for about a month now. I’d like to think I’ve adjusted well enough but, ya know, still get thrown through a loop sometimes. Like this hotel for instance! Never would’ve thought that friggin Hell would have one, no offense.”

On a bar stool to your left pipes up Niffty; “is that why you thought I was gonna attack you, Newbie?”

Naturally you’re utterly unprepared for her rather perceptive question, cause she can determine your, a total stranger’s, apprehension but not an aggressor’s intentions when their teeth are poised around her noggin?

Well, no sense in denying it now, you suppose.

“Sorry about that, Niffty.”

“Oh no worries!” She giggles, “it’d be pre-etty stupid to blindly trust someone like that.”

A few beats pass with the two of you staring at one another, her donning a toothy smile and you puckered lips, and shortly after you disrupt the unofficial contest with a single nod of your head and a “fair enough” tacked on to the finale.

Turning back to Charlie, you tell her that the offensive essence of your statement about her hotel didn’t really make itself known until just now, and apologize for your insensitivity once more. “I guess I just didn’t think anything like this was plausible, but here I am drinking complimentary tap water in a lobby of a hotel in Hell.”

“’Complimentary’, my ass.” The winged cat, Husk as you were told earlier, grumbles under- his? that voice definitely sounds masculine- breath.

“Okay, just tap water then. I’m drinking tap water in-”

“I-it’s okay, Newbie!” Charlie interjects, palms raised and fingers slack. “You’re not the first one to doubt the Happy Hotel, though I do appreciate your apology.”

... want some of that non complimentary tap water to wash down that foot, self? Jesus, if you didn’t feel like shit before then boy howdy do you feel it now; way to trash her gig like that.

“But I believe in this project, no matter what anyone else says, and if I can help just one demon find redemption here then everyone else will believe too!”

FUCK, you really just shat all over this literal-but-not-really angel’s dreams! God you’re such-

Wait.

Wait wait wait... rewind that, what did she say?

“Redemption,” you stress the word, “whaddya mean by that?”

Her mouth blinks open repeatedly not unlike that of a fish before she quickly clears her throat and continues. “Umm.. rehabilitation? To fight against the overpopulation issue?” She must see the lack of recognition on your face. “The entire reason for this hotel?”

Unfortunately for her nothing is distinguishable, not one bit of information or even hearsay within your recollection to mend the rift of miscommunication here, and you explain as such.

“Isn’t that... why you’re... here? To be rehabilitated?” She asks.

You shake your head, “I was just escorting Niffty home so she’d get back safely. This is the first I’ve even heard of your project.”

“Yep yep! Newbie here saved me from some guy that was trying to kidnap me, said he wanted to use me as bait against the bossman, can you believe that?” Niffty scoffs, chased by a large, arcing roll of her one eye. “Completely clueless. But thanks to our new friend here I didn’t have to do anything!”

Angel Dust, apparently with a desire to be a part of the conversation once more, emerges into your line of sight from your right and levels you with a somewhat twisted sneer; lots of fangs, this one, hopefully he’s not a biter.

“So... what? You lookin’ for reward money or somethin’?” He jeers, and it takes some exertion of personal willpower to not clench your hands out of irritation.

Doesn’t mean it’s not showing on your face, however.

“No dude, just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“Tch, ya think we’re really fallin for that crock of shit?”

“I don’t care what you think?” Your tone is calm, steady, no need to act like a jackass even in the afterlife- a concept that has obviously eluded this guy’s notice. “That was my reason for helping, ‘s not my problem if you don’t believe me.”

In your peripheral you can see Charlie’s silhouette veer a little to her right/your left; it’s a slight tilt in her neck that seems to tip her center of gravity, drawing her blonde hair over her right shoulder in a curtain of pale gold, however it’s her eyes that capture your absolute, full attention. Round and unblinking, they probe into you with such vigilance that your stomach churns from the intense concentration, except it’s done in a way that brings a sort of glossy haze over her round, pretty face- like she’s looking at you but she’s not seeing you.

Normally you’d be flattered by such an attractive person outright staring at you, openly, but uhh... right now? Yeah, no you’re not, you’re actually feeling pretty anxious right now.

Guess Angel Dust is tuning in on the same wavelength as you because he says her name in the form of a question. And, still with a far away vog clouding over her features, she merely discloses “I need to call Vaggie” then treads towards the building’s entrance.

“... what?” Is all you can get out in this disorientation.

“Vaggie is Charlie’s girlfriend,” Niffy whispers behind a cupped hand.

Which doesn’t actually answer much of anything for you, nevertheless you appreciate her effort and thank her for it.

Then your left pocket comes alive with rhythmic tremors, a clear indication that your phone is receiving some sort of outward correspondence. Ah, a text message from... oh no.

Text from: The Boss

“WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU DO, NEWBIE?”

“Oh fuck me.”

____________________________________

a/u: no beta, we post (and die) like men... until i actually go back and review it. y’all this chapter was gonna end much further down the line but it’s already long enough, and though i’m not inherently happy with the outcome i am proud of myself for getting it out by my self imposed deadline! btw the reader’s assertion of the characters’s gender identities is there only cause these are characters we know so it makes it easier on me; if any of them didn’t follow a binary based identity then i wouldn’t identify them based off of their biological sex. like, reblog, comment, and all that great jazz cause engagement means everything to content creators, and thank all y’all for taking the time to read my jargon <3

tagged: itz-kira (i gotchu boo)