#WHO LOOKS AT A FLAMING SKULL AND IS LIKE this is obviously not what he seems

[luke-the-fluke]

I knew John and Arthur were stupid but I didn’t know they were THAT stupid.

[specsthesecond]

Witch Troubles #3

It's a fairly common practice among witches to form pacts with demons.

It's not necessary but it's an age old practice meant to strengthen ones connection to magic. The witch gains a stronger connection to magic and in exchange the demon gains easier access to the mortal realm.

You've debated this decision for awhile and you finally think you're ready to forge your own pact. Worst case scenario is the demon refuses your offer, which would be embarrassing but not the end of the world.

You shut the door of your room, close the black out curtains and light a few candles. Squinting at the diagram of the summoning circle in your grimoir you try to replicate it perfectly on the old wooden floorboards in white chalk. When it's done you dust off your hands and place the candles in the right places around the circle along with a good amount of enchanted salt around the circumference for your protection. You stand up and take a breath before reciting the ancient words in your book while channeling all your energy into the circle.

The flames burn higher, so hot you have to shrink back a little. It takes all your effort and concentration to keep the chant going without misspeaking or burning the house down. A giant fire now billows in the centre of the circle, something large rises from the middle. You finish the spell and the flames gradually flicker away to reveal exactly the entity you were trying to summon. The little candles around the circle are the only source of light now, barely illuminating your guest. Smoke smoulders off its skin as it rises to full height and stares right at you with it's flaming eyes.

The demon, male it seems, stands in the middle of the summoning circle as tall as your book shelf and just about as wide. True to the drawings and diagrams in your texts he stands on two thick furry goat-like legs. The soft looking tuft at the end of his long thin tail swishes against the old floorboards as they creak under his weight. The rest of his body is charcoal black but otherwise fairly human save for the large goat-like skull that is his head. Beautiful horns, much too majestic for a demon, sprout from the white bone and curl into a thick loop on either side of his skull.

In short; he's the definition of tall, dark and handsome.

Two flaming pits behind the eye holes in the skull serve as eyes, they burn red and hot like the flames of hell as he glares down at you. You assume it's a glare, it's hard to tell.

You clap your grimoir shut, unable to look away from the demon yet. He seems the same, quietly observing you.

"Good evening, I'm sure you know why I've summoned you."

You say as calmly as possible. The demon looks you up and down and hums lowly, sceptical.

He grunts and crosses his arms over his chest. You have to use all your self control not to look down at the incredibly distracting package he's carrying between his legs as it bobs with the movement. Obviously you were prepared for him to be naked, demons don't wear clothes but actually having to practice that self-control is another thing entirely.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when the demon speaks, low and gravely like you expected.

"Witches used to dance for us around fires, bathe in the blood of sacrifices, throw orgies. This is all I get for my pact proposal?"

That's not what you expected. You were expecting some doubt sure but he sounds... offended? He's complaining?

"I don't need to do any of that to show you my worth. You can already sense my magic capabilities, I can show you- ."

He growls again. When he speaks his jaw bone doesn't move, the voice sounds like it reverberates around the skull on its way out.

"Its about devotion, witch. You show me your devotion and I'll give mine in return. No one cares for presentation anymore."

Who needs presentation? Sure, devotion is important in a pact but he's being ridiculous. You look around the room for a moment before saying flatly,

"My apologies but I will not be sacrificing anything or throwing any orgies and I cannot dance."

The demon scoffs and adjusts his crossed arms, thick biceps flexing as he does.

"All witches dance. Your ancestors where very good at it."

You scoff, telling him about your magic capabilities definitely isn't going to work. Why'd you have to get a difficult demon? Why couldn't you get a normal power-hungry one?

"Are you truly that compelled by naked dancing women?"

You attempt to needle him in hopes of avoiding what you know is inevitable. He doesn't respond, just stands there expectantly.

Some demons may agree to pacts based only on the power of the witch but others don't care for power and value the devotion of the act much more. You were very much hoping for the former but you're going to have to deal with what you got.

After a few moments of staring at eachother you finally crack and bend down to make quick work of your shoes and socks. You dropped your skirt around your ankles, take a deep breath and slide your panties down your legs. You see the demon shift his weight in your peripheral but you don't look at him as you unbutton your blouse and unclip your bra. You leave your black pointy hat on your head, assuming that's part of the appeal.

You only look back at him when you're completely naked, standing Infront of him and crossing your arms over your tits, mirroring his own stance.

He seems amused at that, You can see the little flames in his skull move up and down in a way that indicates he's soaking in your nude body.

"Unfortunately, dancing naked around a fire was not passed down to me like the magic was."

"A pity."

You scowl and the demon huffs smoke through the holes in his skull, chuckling.

"You're a witch, magic exists in your very veins. Use it. Caress your body. Sway your hips. Feel the power in your body and worship it as you would a god."

He says it like it's incredibly obvious and you actually feel inclined to listen to him. You close your eyes and try to "feel the power" whatever that means. You uncross your arms and place them on your thighs, slowly moving them up your waist and back down again.

Your skin feels especially sensitive being completely bare in front of such a powerful being, who is also naked. Just the light touch of your hand makes your skin prickle as you move your fingers slowly across yourself.

You start to arch and sway, hands moving up your thighs, across your stomach, along your neck. You free yourself, offering your body to this demon. The demon growls lowly and says in a deeper tone than before,

"The point of the pact is the connection. You summoned me, This is your pact to forge so show me your devotion."

His fiery eyes follow your every move, every sway of your hips and bounce of your tits.

You carefully run your hands from your waist up to your tits, briefly feeling the soft fat before moving up your shoulders. You stretch your arms high, now putting your tits on full display for your demon guest, the attention and cool air makes your nipples harden.

You turn around, your back facing the demon and he huffs irritably at being denied the sight of your perfect tits. His grievances are smothered when you bend down and run your hands up the back of your legs all the way to your ass, gripping the fat just enough to make it jiggle for him.

You can feel the room getting hotter, you can see his cock getting harder and you can feel the wetness In-between your legs as you dance.

You give one last tantalising hip sway before slowly dropping to your knees in front of him, on the edge of the salt circle. You look up at him while sliding your hands up your thighs, from here you have a perfect view of his half hard cock, looking so thick and heavy the sight has you nearly panting like a dog.

You rest your hands behind you, now presenting your entire body to him, tits perked and pussy drooling, devilishly tempting.

"Does that satisfy."

You say gazing up at him sultry gaze flicking down to his cock, you swear you saw it twitch.

"You know exactly what would satisfy me."

His voice is deeper than before, more gutteral and it makes you squirm. You might have been embarrassed about being so open about his effect on you if it wasn't for his obvious arousal for you. You're honestly just glad this is going well so far.

You lean forward, shuffle closer to the salt barrier and stick your tongue out, mouth open and waiting, silently begging for him.

The demon's hand goes to hold his cock immediately and he steps towards the barrier holding his cock out, but before he can place the tip on your hot tongue, you pull back slightly with a sick grin on your face.

The demon tries to grab your face but you retreat further, past the salt circle and therefore out of reach. You look up at his collosal frame with a smug smirk as he growls in irritation and the candle flames flicker violently.

"Don't forget, this is a mutual pact, demon. You don't call the shots... I want to be on top."

"What makes you thin-“

"I'm on top or you can go back home."

He grumbles something unintelligible, shaking his head in disbelief. One hand goes back to his cock idly stroking the thick member as he nods his head, accepting the terms.

You stand and steel yourself before wiping away a portion of the salt line with your foot, breaking the circle. You reach out for his hand and he accepts it with the hand not stroking his dick, stepping out of the circle and into your bedroom. His hands are immediately on your skin, thick fingers running along your waist and down to your hip. His skin is so warm, like the blood running through his veins is boiling hot giving the surface skin a pleasant warmth.

He stares down at you in suspense waiting for your go ahead.

You bring your hands up his chest and around his broad shoulders, and pull him down to your height only to push him down your body until his skull face is right Infront of your pussy. You let him get a good sniff of your smell before pushing him down to the ground with your foot, standing above him looking very tryumphant.

He doesn't have much time to marvel at your figure above him because before he knows it you're sitting on his dick, pussy pressing right against his cock, he bucks on instinct, the wet warmth of your pussy against the heat of his cock makes him let out a gutteral moan.

You slowly rock your hips back and forth the length of his cock, an impressive length but one you could manage. Neither of you can stand the foreplay any longer, his hands grip your waist at the same time you finally slide his cock into your waiting cunt.

You both groan at the feeling as you pop the mushroom head into your cunt and you slide your pussy down to the hilt, feeling every vein of his hot cock against your walls. You're so slick and needy the fat cock slides in with surprisingly little resistance. That makes him chuckle, which you cut off with a deliberate thrust of your hips.

Your screams are muffled and gargled but the sound of your wet pussy slapping and squelching around his cock as you cum echos throughout the room. He growls and snarls into your mouth when he gets close, tilting his head back in absolute bliss.

You plant your feet on either side of his waist, moving all the way up back to the tip and then plunging back down again taking him as deep as he'll go. You bounce and hump on this demons fat cock, tits bouncing in tandem, pretty face in the throws of pleasure. It's a sight to see and he loves every minute of it, clutching your hips but letting you control the pace.

The fur covering his legs is soft and warm against your ass as you ride your new pact mate. Your hands rest on his strong chest as you lose yourself even more in the intense pleasure. Panting and groaning, as you approach your high, your thrusts get more frantic as if you're trying to get him even deeper into your cunt. Your eyes are locked onto the way his pretty cock disappears Into to your cunt, the fur at the hilt becoming wet with your slick.

"Ah~ cum inside, cum inside, cum inside me!"

Your frantic pleas are heard when he wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his other hand firmly on your ass pushing into you as deep as possible. You finally cum around the throbbing cock clenching your walls deliciously, pressed into his chest. He cums seconds after you, shooting abnormally hot cum deep inside you. Your body stills as you cum down, his strong arms move you body against him in shallow thrusts as he bucks up into you, riding out his high.

You limply lie on his massive chest catching your breath as you come down, ignoring the drool you left on his pec. You realise he's eerily quiet and look up only to find he's staring at your face in a manner you think is expecant? Only then do you actually realise that his dick hasn't gone down at all. You can't help but laugh, pussy involuntarily clenching making the demon clutch your hips tighter.

"Is this all for me or is it just a demon thing?"

He huffs out camp fire smelling smoke from his skull and leans up into a seated position. The change in position makes his cock adjust and you moan softly at the feeling while grasping his large biceps.

"You've got jokes."

He looks down at you, you try to read his expression but it's really hard when his hands are massaging your hips so nicely and his cock is touching new spots inside you making your head all fuzzy. He smoothly lifts your thighs and flips you both over so that you're laying on your back and he's hovering above you.

It's such a glorious sight. This massive sexy otherworldly creature staring down at you with such lust. You can't stop yourself from pulling him in closer by the back of his neck and mumbling,

"Do demons kiss?"

The demon huffs again and opens his jaw showing his razor sharp teeth, from the darkness behind the skull comes three appendages, long and wet. Those are his tongues, and you moan a little when you realise that. He leans closer and the prehensile tongues worm their way to your mouth where you greet them, mouth ready and open. All three appendages slip into your mouth to explore and rub against your tongue, it's so messy and gross it makes you clench around his cock.

He grunts and thrusts into you, thrusting his tongues deeper into your mouth making you gag. You stick your head in his open maw, pulling him in closer by his thick horns. You take the tongues with vigor and suck on them like you would a cock. He seems to like this quite a bit as he grabs both your legs and pulls your knees up to your ears, bending you in half and presenting your dripping pussy to him. He starts thrusting his cock much deeper in your pussy than before while thrusting his tongues down your throat simultaneously.

The pleasure is so intense as he gradually speeds up, working up to a brutal pace. He fucks you into the floor, so deep, so good. It's so animalistic it makes you go feral. He tongue fucks your throat with fever, his dangerous maw wide open. Knowing that he could tear your flesh easily if he just closed his jaws around your head turns you on an unthinkable amount as you take his tongues deeper down your already full throat.

You want him deeper in your throat even as you choke and gag. You want him deeper in your pussy even as he pounds you raw and hard, reaching so deep he kisses your cervix. Your brain is mush and your thighs burn, you scratch and claw his back for some kind of grounding as you quickly reach your peak again.

He wraps his arms under your thighs and around your back to lift you up and squeeze you against his hot body. He pounds you even harder now with gravity on his side, forcing you down on his cock as he thrusts up in time.

Suddenly your body gets hot, he gets hot. His hold is like a hot vice and you struggle against it on instinct but he just holds you tighter. You almost scream when you feel a red hot flash in every artery and vein in your body. The heat is gone just as quickly as it came and you sigh in relief before looking up at him in shock when you suddenly realise what he just did.

His tongues leaves your mouth suddenly as he cums hard, groaning loudly as he fucks his seed deeper into your already soaked cunt. With your mouth free you groan like an snimal, tongue out, tears streaking down your face, spit running down your neck. You soak up the feeling of being folded in half and filled to the fucking brim by this demonic beast.

Your moans mix in the hot air between you. His cum is so thick and hot inside you, filling you up once again. You're so full you can't contain it all as it pours out of you and onto the floor. He gives a few slow, deep thrusts, milking his cock with your tight pussy as you lay limply in his hold.

You sit on the floor for a few minutes holding each other close and catching your breath. He nuzzles his head into your sweaty neck and moves your body into a more relaxed position so that he's hugging around your waist and your legs rest around his torso. You feel each other for a moment, his cock still plugging up your messy cunt. Hes quiet, like he's thinking about something. You're not sure you can even speak but if you could you don't really know what you would say.

He leans back to look at your face, you realise you probably look an absolute mess, tear streaked face with spit all over your mouth and chin. He looks into your eyes like he's looking for something specific and you look back into his two small flames. He slightly nods and then holds you close to his chest once more, enveloping you with his body.

He accepted the pact proposal.

You let out a breathless laugh and lean up to place wet kisses all over his skull head.

He growls low and irritable like a cat.

"That's not necessary."

He grumbles like he's annoyed but doesn't move away from you as you give a few more kisses along his jaw. His tail swishes idly behind him.

"Well neither was fucking me. Twice."

You tease him while reaching for your discarded hat and plopping it back on your head. You shakily stand up on wobbly legs, he holds his hands out to your hips to stabilise you. Cum drips out of your cunt and his gaze is drawn to where it oozes down your thighs.

"Not that I'm complaining."

You balance yourself with your hands on his shoulders and clear your throat, trying to seem a little put together as he stares up at you. You very casually lift your leg to rest it on his shoulder, presenting your puffy, dripping cunt to him.

"Are you the fuck and leave type or do you stay for the cleanup? "

The demon chuckles and opens his maw again, wet tongues slipping out and reaching for you, licking up your cum covered thighs and up to the source of the mess.

You're both going to make very good use of this pact.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 11:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Angst. Canon violence

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

Three days had passed since the argument with Hunter that sent you storming from the Marauder with anger blazing hot in your veins. Two days since you’d left the planet, intent on putting all your focus towards the job Cid had given you.

One day had turned your anger into a suffocating heaviness of guilt and grief. Now it was something else - it felt strange and unnatural - or maybe it was just nothingness. Whatever it was, you wished the anger would come back. Anger was tangible, it gave you something to hold onto. Anger had a conviction - a purpose. Whatever it was that you felt now, slipped numbly through your fingers, floating aimlessly and as silent as the vortex of hyperspace you currently traveled through.

They didn’t come for me.

---

You had waited around Cid’s for a full rotation - unsure what for.

Did you really think they’d come looking for you?

Did they even want to?

“Give it up, kid.” Cid advised as you’d found yourself glancing over at the door for the thousandth time, “Dark and Broody ain’t coming after ya.”

You looked at her sharply. How did she know?

Cid shrugged, “Don’t look at me like that, Hotshot. I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” She smirked, “It’s the same way he looks at you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Then tell me why he hasn’t come.”

Cid threw down her washrag, looking annoyed. “You’re the idiot who ran away. He’s smart enough not to bother a woman who’s mad at him.” She scoffed, “Or he’s stupid enough not to go after the woman he obviously cares about.”

That’s when the anger came back, flashing brightly like the flame of a candle exposed to the air just before it fizzled out again. “You’re wrong. He’s not here because he doesn’t care. None of them do.” Disappointment settled like a boot on your chest.

Cid let out a bored sigh. “Then quit moping around and do something! I’ve got plenty of jobs around here and no one to do them. Might as well get paid if you’re just going to be miserable anyway.”

You looked at her quizzically then groaned. “Alright… where do you need me to go?”

---

The ship shuttered as it dropped out of hyperspace, pulling you back to the present as you came into orbit around the moon Cid’s coordinates had directed you to. You chuckled bitterly.

Well joke’s on them. I don’t need them either.

---

“Omega, come on! We need to make a supply run in town,” Hunter called down the ramp as he slung his pack over his shoulder. He frowned as she made no move to get up, though he was certain she’d heard him. He set his pack down and walked over to her. She sat on the ramp, resting her arms and chin on her knees, as she looked blankly out at the empty road.

“Omega..” he sat down beside her.

“It’s been three days, Hunter. Where is she?” Her muffled voice broke his heart. She’d been crying and he had no words to comfort her.

There had only been two times in his life that Hunter found himself with no idea what to do.

The empty numbness that dug its relentless claws through his skull screamed at him in an overwhelming self-hatred after their first real mission failure which left Wrecker clinging to life.

Failure. Coward. Pathetic.

It was the same feeling now that spread through his bones. I should’ve run after her. Now it’s too late. Mission failure once again.

The gut-wrenching flood of emotion that came with being a parent and falling in love was more unyielding than any enemy he’d faced before. It’s the one thing they didn’t train us for. At least when an enemy combatant refused to cooperate, there were many ways to get what you wanted out of them. Hunter didn’t know how to react when it was his own thoughts that refused to comply.

“I don’t know, Omega.”

“She’s coming back though, right?” She looked up at him but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

He spun his vibroblade anxiously. “I hope so.”

“Wrecker went out looking for her, you know.”

Hunter straightened in surprise, turning to look at her. “He did what?”

Omega wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sat up. “Yeah. He left this morning. He said he was gonna find her and make everything better again.”

As if on cue, Wrecker came barreling down the road, skidding to a stop just shy of the ramp panting and out of breath. Hunter stood up as Omega dashed to his side.

“What is it, Wrecker? Did you find her!? Is she okay?!” Her eyes were wide and Hunter was glad to see some of the hopeful spark return. He just hoped that whatever news Wrecker brought wouldn’t snuff it out again.

Wrecker collapsed onto the ramp. “Phew… I’m never running like that again!”

“Well?” prompted Hunter, still nervously twiring the blade through his fingers.

“Huh? Oh yeah! I found out from some scumbag that Cid sent her on a mission. Said it was real dangerous.”

“What.” Hunter tensed. Suddenly that pitiful feeling of futility was gone, replaced by something he was all too familiar with. He slid the vibroblade back into its sheath with a deadly click, mouth set in a fierce line of determination.

“Did he say anything else?” Omega asked.

Wrecker laughed. “Yeah. When I hung him upside down from the roof, he cried.” He turned towards Hunter and his smile faded into a growl. “Hunter, he said it was a suicide mission. He said nobody gets outta there alive. That’s why I ran all the way here.”

Omega gasped, “Hunter we have to go after her! She might not know it’s a trap!”

Hunter had already strapped on his pack and secured his blaster.

“Tech, Echo! Start the ship.” He called out. “I’m gonna go have a little chat with Cid.”

Loosened by the adrenaline as he ran, a sudden moment of clarity fell upon him. He’d been thinking about this all wrong.

You were not a mission in which to succeed or fail. You were a part of him - the missing link in his short mess of a life - and he would do everything it took to get you back.

The door to Cid’s Parlour opened with a slam. Cid nearly dropped the glass she was cleaning as she looked up to see Hunter striding over to her, fire in his eyes. The only two patrons in the room fled, feeling the mood of the room sour almost immediately. Cid set the cup down in obvious annoyance. “Hey! You can’t just storm on in here, scaring away my customers like that! I’ve got bills to pay here.”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he pointed a sharp finger in her direction.

“Where is she?”

Cid smirked, deciding to play coy. This could get interesting, she thought as she dried her hands, making sure to look as unbothered as she possibly could.

“Where is who? You gotta be more specific.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

She tapped a finger on her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… I really don’t think I do.”

Hunter sighed, exasperated. “I don’t have time to play your games, Cid. Tell me where you sent her.”

Cid sighed, suddenly bored of whatever ruse she’d cooked up to mess with him. “Fine.”

Hunter clenched his teeth. “I need to know, Cid. Now.”

“Cool your jets, Dark and Broody.” Cid rolled her eyes. “Your girlfriend’s fine. She asked me for a job and I gave ‘er one.”

Hunter’s face darkened. “Where. Is. She.” His white knuckled fist slammed down on the counter. “I promise you I won’t be so nice if I have to ask you again.”

Cid raised her hands in a mocked surrender. “Look, I promised her that I wouldn’t tell any of you lot where she went. She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Hunter's hands shot across the bar, vibroblade suddenly poised in a violent threat at her throat. His voice was dangerously low. “She could be in real danger. Tell me where you sent her. Now.”

Cid gulped, backing into the wall, knocking a bottle onto the ground where it shattered. She glared then raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright fine! Put the knife down and I’ll tell you!”

Hunter lowered the knife. Cid nervously rubbed her throat. “Geez… I can see why she likes you so much. I sent her to a small moon in the Sullest system. Doesn’t even have a name. Hardly anybody goes there at all.”

Hunter glared daggers.

“Relax, Dark and Broody. She’s not in any danger. It’s just a simple snatch and grab. The mines over there are full of stuff worth a ton to the right people.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Just give me the coordinates.”

Cid sighed, “Already done. Get outta here, lover boy.”

Hunter rolled his eyes as he turned to leave.

“Hey!” Cid’s voice called after him. “You owe me for that bottle. Corellian Whiskey is hard to come by these days!”

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[forestshadow-wolf]

Different first meeting for Ghaop!

MacTavish is new to 141 and before he’s introduced to everyone yet gets sent on an undercover op in an anti monarchy group trying to see if they’re actually a threat. At first it doesn’t look like they are, until they nab a soldier set to run joint training with the royal guard (idk if that’s actually a thing but shhh). So now soap has to figure out who the mole is leaking classified information and how to get THE GHOST out without blowing the entire operation. Queue soap shitting bricks internally but acting like a cocky shit anytime he “interrogates” Ghost.

Ghost picks up on the codes MacTavish drops but doesn’t believe him, until the mole outs Soap while visiting for a progress update. To Ghosts surprise Soap handles everything their captives throw at him well and actually is good at his job, so now Ghost has to break both of them out and “stem the leak” which was the entire reason he let himself be caught in the first place. When they get out after soap levels the entire building price picks them up and officially introduces soap to the team. Gaz is upset Soap got to see Ghosts face before he did.

If he's being honest the mission was less on a first mission on a squad, and more of a is he the right fit for the squad, will he make it in the squad, a if he gets killed then he obviously wasn't what the squad needed kind of mission. And he knew it. Even from the very beginning.

Days of preparing, weeks of training, months of planning. This op had been in the works for almost an entire year before he had been brought in; just gatering intel, following leads, pulling at threads.

All down the drain. Just like that. Like a snap of the fingers.

They were getting suspicious. Of him mostly. He didn't really fit in. Sure he had the look. Had even grown out his hair for it. But snoop around long enough and you'll find something, yes. But the deeper you get the more slippery it gets, the more tracks you leave. And he has left tracks. But more importantly he found cracks.

Cracks like The Ghost. Being held and tortured in the third wine cellar down in the catacombs. For how long, he can't tell. But long enough that he has a bloody and bruised face instead of a skull.

Long enough that soap is entrusted with the knowledge of his stay. Long enough that they let him "play". That they let him speak and taunt and sneer at him.

Well- up until the found his slips. Then they put him right next to The Ghost. Turned his... everything black and blue. And red. They sneer that the bloodstain in his eyes really makes the blue pop. He lets them laugh.

Busting out is easy enough. Hard to change routines on such short notice. And he knows the route like the back of his hand.

Watching the building go up in crumbles and flames is a sight to see. Might even be one of his best.

When price grips his shoulder in one hand, and his hand in the other he smiles and finally welcomes him onto the team. It's good to find be here. Gaz grips his hand just as firm, and gives him a jab about getting to see The Ghost before him, and he can only laugh.

[lucysstoryworld]

The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (2)

Summary: The High Lord and his Spymaster have a meeting with The Veil Whisperer. It does not end the way anyone expects.

Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda

Warnings: CC3 Spoilers, mentions of child abuse. If I have missed any, let me know.

Just a quick note. Abhartach is mentioned as 'Avertock', That will make sense in the story.

Words: 4979

Read Part One Here

A mix of amber and lavender incense swirled delicately into the air, hazing the room. Through the mist, Azriel could see what looked like various shrines and altars staged in different parts of the room; each seemingly signifying something different. One had various gold coins coupled with a mug full of... something, surrounded by rocks? Another consisted of feathers and skulls, of which Azriel quickly looked away from what was quite obviously some sort of omen of death. He landed on another which had some of the most intricate tools he had seen, he would think they were beautiful if the whole thing didn't make him so uncomfortable. A large, open fire sat in the middle of the room. The heat offered some semblance of comfort to Azriel when the rest of the room sent shivers creeping down his spine. There were other rooms and he was glad he could not see into them, only The Mother knows what lurked behind those doors and he hoped it would stay that way. Though nothing drew more attention than the woman sitting quietly, brewing a pot of tea over the aforementioned flames.

"High Lord of Night and his Spymaster... what could possibly be so important that you both show up together?" She spoke, though a knowing glint was obvious in her eyes which was accompanied by a feline smirk. Azriel and Rhysand glanced at each other, both arching one eyebrow that turned the Veil Whisperer's smirk into a grin. "Now, now boys. Come sit and have a cup of tea." To anyone who was unaware, this would appear like a kind gesture between friends. Azriel and Rhys knew better than to argue. They had walked themselves right into the centre of her web, so they had to tread lightly. Both males sat quietly, watching the Veil Whisperer from across the fire. Watched as she poured the tea into three cups, her face remained on the pot, not yet having looked either male in the eyes. Azriel looked at Rhys once again, who was sat stock-still and watched the female's every move. Azriel was sure he was preparing to be tricked, like he was previously. So was he, if Azriel was being honest. This female was one of the least trustworthy fae he knew. He was sure the humans based their ideas of trials and trickery about their kind on this female.

"We have come with a request," Rhys spoke, the cool voice of a High Lord rang through Azriel's ears.

"Obviously," the female cut in, her eyes focused on the cup in her hands looking wholly bored. Azriel refrained from rudeness by taking a sip from his cup. He swirled it around in his mouth for a moment. Floral, bitter with a hint of lemon. It's fine, no poison, Azriel projected and not a moment later, Rhys also sipped his tea. A short breath snorted from the Veil Whisperer, as if she heard Azriel's thought. Rhys has assured him she was not daemati, though there was no telling what other talents she possessed. "I'm not going to poison you... again. Especially when I have drank from the same pot."

"We need your help locating something," Rhysand spoke again.

"And would it have anything to do with the world-walker that entered Prythian some weeks ago?" The Veil Whisperer queried as though she was asking about the weather.

If Azriel wasn't so good at his job, he was sure his shock would have been audible. The same could be said for his High Lord, although he was a bit less talented at hiding his reaction. Rhysand's jaw clenched and his lips thinned into a firm line. He pushed a sigh through his nose and rolled is eyes slightly, "Okay, so instead of playing your little games, how about you tell us what you know then."

A toothy grin paired with a soft laugh erupted from the Veil Whisperer. Finally her eyes lifted from her cup and straight into Rhys's. Azriel couldn't deny her strange allure, how different her beauty was from what they were used to in Prythian. The fine-line tattoos that decorated her face along with the strange decorations in her hair and ears interested Azriel to no end and he found himself studying her instead of paying attention. It was unsettling really, Azriel found himself being more wary than he was usually. He felt as though he was being walked into the trap of her beauty like it was inviting him to let his guard down and end up the worse of it. Azriel took another sip of his tea and allowed the blend to bring him back to reality. He focused once again, this time with self-annoyance rippling through his body. The Shadowsinger had fallen for the first trick of the Veil Whisperer and that was her beauty. She was currently staring Rhys down, examining him as though he was an experiment. Rhysand held her gaze but nonchalantly drank from his cup.

"A world-walker entered this land three times in close succession some weeks ago, there was a large release of power on the first visit and they departed soon after. A couple of days later, the fabric of this world was opened again by the same individual and very soon after, they entered and left again," The Veil Whisperer drawled, her hands animating the scene dramatically.

"Not interesting enough for you to come sniffing if you could sense it then?" Rhys sniped, while placing his cup on its accompanying saucer.

Seriousness settled on the female's face. "I do not go looking for trouble... especially where world-walkers are concerned." Azriel felt uneasy. The same uneasiness he felt when Bryce landed in front of his feet. For someone as renowned as the Veil Whisperer to be cautious of a world-walker proved that they were up shit creek.

"Have you ever come across another?" Azriel found himself asking before he had a chance to stop himself. He blamed his spymaster tendencies for that, always prodding for the whole truth.

The Veil Whisperer's gaze rolled over to Azriel and the Illyrian found himself bracing before her clear scrutiny. "I have not... well not through an event as large as this one." She stated and returned her attention to the High Lord. He stopped himself from demanding her to explain herself, more so when he saw that Rhys seemed to know what she was talking about. "Though we are veering off track. What do you want and how does it involve a world-walker," The Veil Whisperer almost snapped.

"The world-walker caused a release of power, like you said," Rhys began and the female beckoned him to continue impatiently. "That release of power occurred on a part of my land that you may be familiar with... The Prison." The inner circle had discussed on the best call to action for this conversation. They toyed with the idea of Rhys appearing like he does to the Hewn City, or an indifferent force of nature like he is in front of his fellow High Lords. Though they decided for him to be respectful, yet demanding. 'Beggars cannot be choosers, boy,' Amren had advised.

A hard look settled over the Veil Whisperer's face, her tattooed fingers tightened around her cup. "What of it?"

"The world-walker caused... structural changes to the Prison and-"

"And one of its inhabitants has gotten free and you need help finding it?" She butt in, annoyance building in her tone.

"Yes."

"Who or what has gotten loose?" She pinched her the bridge of her nose.

"The Abhartach..." Rhys spoke cautiously.

The Veil Whisperer's head shot up from her cup with a vicious glare. "Of all things," She gritted her teeth. "Why must you need my help? Can your dog sitting next to you not perform his duties? Or your creepy second in command?"

"You will not speak ill of my inner circle," The High Lord ordered, balling his hands into fists.

"It is not ill-spoken if it is truth, Rhysand." Impertinence rippled off the female in waves. "How long have you been looking?"

"Roughly five weeks," Azriel answered, his ego bruising.

"Any victims?"

"None that we have been able to unveil."

The Veil Whisperer threw her eyes to the ceiling, muttering a swear to some deity that neither male knew of, or cared to know of for that matter. "What do you know of the Abhartach?"

"It is a blood sucking demon, from what I have read, that was captured and imprisoned long before even my great-grandfather walked the land," The High Lord answered, rubbing his hands on his pants.

A humourless chuckle filled the space, "It is not just a blood sucking demon. It is of an age where people with my abilities were the only magical inhabitants, from what my mother told me," The Veil Whisperer began with a flicker of emotion in her eyes. "Its kind was highly intelligent. It can appear as human, fae, beast, whatever animal it likes to draw its prey in. Some of my ancient scrolls talk of a time where there was a local population of them here, and more dotted across the continent. They do not die of age, hunger, thirst, illness. They are beings frozen in time, their very blood runs cold."

Azriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at her description of the Abhartach... it was more information than he, or anyone else for that matter, had been able to gather through their own fae history and books. This female before him seemed to have a completely different impression of the history in these lands that also seemed to run deeper than he could conceive. The spymaster ignored the unsettling of his stomach at how eerily similar this demon sounded to the high fae. The Veil Whisperer looked at Azriel, as if sensing his train of thought.

"Their main goal is blood, that is how they sustain themselves as I'm sure you're aware. For no victims of The Abhartach to have been discovered after an untold term of imprisonment does not bode well... my manuscripts and history only tells me so much about it... but they always spoke of the bloodlust..." She seemed to say more so to herself than Azriel and Rhys.

"So what you're telling me is that because there has seemingly been no attacks, that there is something else at play," Rhys stated.

"I do not know what I'm telling you, High Lord. Only that it is acting out of turn of its documented behaviours. Regardless, this is technically none of my business." The Veil Whisperer settled back into her mask of arrogance.

"What price will make it your business?" Rhys asked. Azriel now knew that this female was their only chance at catching their escapee. Her knowledge of it far surpassed their own, which he was sure she knew, and that meant she could ask for whatever she wanted and they would have to oblige.

The Veil Whisperer stood and rounded the large hearth, her cup in hand. She halted between to two males, looking down at them with an unforgiving expression. Her eyes burned holes through both of them. The Veil Whisperer tore her gaze from them, and stared into the bottom of her cup. A displeased hum. "It's a goat," She muttered. Both males furrowed their brows, each looking to the other with puzzlement. They watched as she set her cup down and picked up the cups that the males had been drinking from. "You have the scales," She muttered again and met eyes with Azriel. "And you have a unicorn, High Lord."

"Excuse me?" Rhysand almost spat. Azriel felt his heckles rising, he did not enjoy the idea of being part of some... ritual.

"It is a mythical creature written in my culture... it is depicted in the leaves of your tea, Rhysand." The female lowered the cup to Rhys and Azriel could see the shape of a horse with a horn? "Each one of the depictions in our respective cups are bad omens... so I must decline your request. You may take your leave. It has always been a pleasure."

"You're rejecting our plea for help to catch a blood sucking demon because of tea leaves?" Azriel questioned incredulously.

The Veil Whispered sauntered back to her chair, "Yes, Shadowsinger," She answered as though he was a child. "These omens are rarely incorrect so I heed their warning."

Azriel glanced at his brother, who seemed to be searching inwardly for a way to convince The Veil Whisperer. "Is there truly no way to convince you? I'm willing to meet any of your demands." The feeling of Rhysand's almost begging churned Azriel's stomach.

"If our paths are truly meant to cross on this journey, High Lord, then they will in some other way. You cannot buy my participation this time. This is no easy task, not one bought."

Azriel could feel his temper begin to simmer below the surface. This female spoke in riddles and bullshit. He felt himself wanting to shout and demand that she helps, for she knew they were at a loss — that he was at a loss. Don’t, Rhys spoke into his mind, We will figure something else out. Azriel shot his brother a look to say ‘How?’ to which Rhysand ignored. When Azriel looked back to The Veil Whisperer, she seemed to be studying his face. Meeting her eyes, Azriel did not hold back the grimace and disgust he felt. If she noticed, she did not show it. She held his gaze for a moment, before returning her stare to Rhys.

“You may take your leave.” With that, she stood and left into a different room.

Azriel and Rhysand left The Veil Whisperer’s home and winnowed back to the River House. There, the inner circle awaited patiently. No sooner than their feet had touched the wooded floors had Feyre come into view, carrying a crying Nyx in her arms. Azriel could see the tiredness weighing on his High Lady’s eyes. From what his brother had said, Nyx seemed to be crying at nearly all hours of the day as of late. As much as he loved his precious little nephew, he did not envy Feyre or Rhys at the moment… no matter how much he longed to have a connection that resulted in a family.

Rhysand scooped the wailing high baby of night into his arms, the nickname coined by Cassian, and began to rock him gently. He shushed the boy, though it did little halt the cries. "I've tried feeding him, changing, playing, napping..." Feyre trailed off, her hand rubbing across her forehead.

With his free hand, Rhys took his High Lady's hand into his own and squeezed. "Go have some time to yourself, Feyre. You deserve a rest," He said as gently as he could over Nyx's yells. Feyre looked gratefully at her mate and squeezed his hand in return. With a kiss on her child's cheek, Feyre took off down the halls to her respite. Rhysand met his brother's eyes and could see the question looming in his gaze. "I am not sure how we should proceed," Was all he said, and continued to rock his son. He slowly began to quieten though Nyx felt it fitting to let both males know he was still unhappy. Azriel remained silent, instead choosing to take one of his nephew's little hands into his own. The way the babe melted his heart was undeniable.

"Well, we will discuss the others about what to do... there is a lot to unpack from that one visit alone."

***

You tried to focus on the book in your hand, though the words seemed to swim on the page. Your mind relentlessly returned to the earlier encounter with the High Lord of Night and his Spymaster. It had been a long stretch of time since the last time a three-part omen presented itself to you. If you were being honest with yourself, the decision to reject Rhysand's offer was one you weren't sure was completely right. The last time something similar happened... Well that hadn't ended well. Your cheeks heated at the thought, the familiar bubble of anger roiling in your stomach.

Your mind wandered to the Shadowsinger, as you lost yourself in the smoke whirling and twirling from the incense burning before you. The way he looked at you, disgust and interest all mixed together in his smoky gaze. A slight smile tugged at the corners of your lips. As good as Azriel was at hiding his emotions, you thought him fairly easy to read. He trusted Rhysand implicitly, and Rhysand trusted him. They looked to each other for support throughout their earlier meeting. You found Azriel's eyes looking between you and the High Lord, he was ready to put himself between you if the situation called for it. The spymaster looked at you like you were a walking, talking trap. A light chuckle. You supposed he wasn't wrong, after your little trick on Rhysand last time. You sensed his personal apprehension of you. After the revelation of his tea leaves, you didn't miss how he seemed to pale when he realised he had his leaves read. If he was like most sentient beings in Prythian, he was likely terrified of the possibility of anything other than The Mother existing. Fool.

At the thought of the leaves, you stood and made your way through your cottage. Huffing frustratedly, you settled before your small desk and reached for the soft cloth. Folding it, you placed it over the crown of your head, leg bouncing impatiently. If you can't stop bitching about it, then you might as well get more guidance, your mother used to say when you got like this. Tying the knot in your hair, you reached for the pouch, pulling out the familiar deck of cards. Though you had many in your collection, this set was always your favourite. These cards were brutal when they wanted to be, but always said what you needed to hear. After knocking the deck and shuffling, you had an itching feeling the cards would be on the more brutal side today. With that, your hands kept shuffling until three cards dropped. Two landed faced-up, and a long sigh escaped through your lips. Ten of cups in reverse, eight of wands upright. "Wow," you said humourlessly. You turned over the final card. There was no denying that change was coming. And it was coming in a way that you weren't going to like or be able to avoid. Not with The Tower staring back at you, upright. Brutal cards indeed.

You contemplated the signs before you and the leaves from earlier. Whatever was coming your way was unavoidable, that much was true. Another sigh. You would deal with this tomorrow. After putting the cards away, you padded to your kitchen. After a day like this, you pulled out your favourite blend. Bringing the box of tea to your nose, a sense of nostalgia filled you. People had come and gone, tragedies ebbed and flowed but this tea had always remained a comfort. Settling in your chair before the fire, you sipped the tea and allowed yourself to relax finally. The sun began dip below the horizon. Despite the turmoil of the day, you felt your nerves settle. You allowed the heaviness of your eyes take over.

There was a storm raging outside your window now. The hail battered your window so hard you were sure the glass would crack. The room was eerily quiet. The candles had snuffed themselves out, the fire in middle of the room cast a red glow over the room. A chill encroached the room. You rubbed your arms and looked around. The lack of presence in the room rattled you. There was always a sense of vague company in your little abode. Now, it was stagnant. Like the room was holding its breath as the storm raged outside.

Standing from your chair, you looked into through the open doors of your home... strange. You always kept your doors shut. Each room was the same. Empty. The wind screamed outside your window, wailed like a feminine rage. Viscous and... terrifying. Goosebumps prickled along your arms. The screams started to sound more real. Like a baby, howling for help. The sound was undeniable. Everyone knew what that sound meant. A tremble took over your hands, a cold sweat immediately broke out across your brow. Your heart began to thump heavily in your chest. Instinct had you bolting back through the rooms of your cottage. Every time you followed the sound, it moved somewhere else. Louder and louder, that baby cried. Squealing in pain. Tears gathered in your eyes, your shaking hands pulling at your hair.

"Where are you?!" You screamed.

The scream suddenly sounded behind you, right in your ear. You whirled. There it was, across the room. The baby, swaddled as though it had been ripped from its crib. He cried wantonly as a long, black nail rubbed over his cheek. You looked at who was holding the child... at what was holding the child. It was strange, its features blurry. It was looking right at you, its aura threatening yet smug. You felt stuck.

"What are you?" You growled.

It remained stock-still, all for its nail rubbing the infant's cheek. Like it knew it was upsetting the poor child. You repeated the question again, trying to find the power within yourself. The being studied you, like it knew what you were trying to do and it judged you. The emptiness within... you couldn't feel your power.

"What. Are. You?" The demand passed through your lips with a venomous ease. Your heart only thumped harder as the nail on the baby's face halted.

Halted and began to dig in.

Your ears rang with the shrill of the baby's terror. Though you could not make out any identifiable features on the being, you knew it was smiling more and more. You tried to run for the child, though your feet remained cemented to the ground. You tried to pull against it, though nothing seemed to work.

"Please!" You begged for the first time in many moons. "Please!"

Suddenly the cries halted. The beast stopped too. The baby turned its head and looked into your eyes, tears still dripping down his little face that was beet red. You stared back in horror, fear rippling through you in waves. You reached out to it, wishing you could comfort it. However, as your hand fully outstretched the being lunged for you, the baby falling from its hold.

Your mouth opened to shout, the breath beginning to rip through you. It wasn't quick enough to stop it. The being ran through you quicker than the scream left your lungs. Quicker than the baby hit the ground.

The scream followed you back into the real world as you jolted upright in your seat. Heaved breaths laboured through you as your hand rubbed against your chest. Your eyes darted around the room. Candles lit. Fire bellowing. Heat in the room. Calm weather through the window. A nightmare. It was a nightmare. Something wasn't right about it, that much you knew. That baby... You shot up out of your seat, and grabbed your bags.

***

The inner circle of Night sat in a semi-circle around the fire. Conversations littered throughout the room. The rain outside made the room feel cosier. Azriel sat between Nesta and Elain. The sisters were chatting idly.

"Well all I'm saying is that I could recommend you books that are far more interesting than 'An Encyclopaedia of Prythian's Flora and Fauna'," Nesta teased.

Elain smirked, "I'm sure you could, sister. I'm sure your titles are positively riveting and mentally stimulating."

"They stimulate something anyways," Azriel muttered, his mind going back to the times she and Cassian had fucked all over The House.

Nesta hit Azriel's arm playfully and Elain giggled though a rosy hue coloured her cheeks.

Silence captured the room as a cry from Nyx emanated into the space. A frustrated sigh escaped Feyre and Rhys... and everyone for that matter.

"I do not know how you deal with that day in and day out, as lovely as he is when he's quiet," Amren announced.

"Oh please, Amren," Morrigan protested. "He's just a little baby!"

Rhys and Feyre left together. "A noisy one," Amren replied.

Morrigan rolled her eyes and gave the short female a snotty glare. It quickly left as the High Lord and Lady returned with their son. He still was still groaning and moaning. "Madja says there is nothing wrong with him... a lot of infants go through this," Feyre stated as she handed the baby over to Mor.

"It's okay," She cooed. "Come to your favourite Aunty Mor."

All eyes shot to Azriel when he shot up from his seat and began stomping toward the doors. Someone has entered the city, he projected to Rhys and Feyre through his mind. Both of them followed, getting ready to intercept the stranger. Azriel could hear the others question what was happening. He assumed Rhys and Feyre relayed the message to them because they all silenced themselves. The three of them walked all the way outside, until they were free of the wards on the estate.

"I will winnow us," Feyre announced and held out each of her hands. Both males took her hand without question and they winnowed to the location that Azriel provided. A multitude of possibilities ran through Azriel's mind, as he took out Truth Teller. Maybe an Autumn Court spy. Court of Nightmares, perhaps. Bryce Quinlan may have returned? None of the speculations could have prepared him for the reality when he emerged from the winnow.

For you standing on the edge of the city, feline-smiling at all three high fae, bags in hand. "Hello there, High Lady Feyre. I do not believe we have met before," You said.

"What are you doing here?" Feyre had really mastered the voice of a High Lady.

"Forgive me," You said incredulously, "Was it not your mate and Shadowsinger that requested my services?" You asked as though they were children. Rhysand looked like he was going to rip her apart, to which she grinned. "Well I've changed my mind, it's your lucky day."

"Why the sudden change of heart? After your leaves and omens," Azriel bit.

"Oh pipe down. I did further searching. It is in our best interest to proceed with our best foot forward. I will help you, take it or leave it," You barked. Azriel felt a sense of urgency from you, a sense of unease.

"What of your price?" Rhysand asked.

"I have not yet decided." Definitely out of character.

"How do we know you will not ask for too much even after the job has begun?" Feyre this time. All three of them were a force to be reckoned with.

"Ugh," You grumbled. Never had you seen three more ungrateful people. "I am offering you my help without a prior price, surely that speaks for itself. But if it's really that much to you, I will not ask for anything that will ruin any of you or your court... is that enough?" All three looked to each other, a mental conversation, you were sure. You took the opportunity to look at Azriel again. There was something you couldn't quite put your finger on, an interest.

You purged the thoughts from your mind as the Shadowsinger's eyes met your own. You smirked once again at the apprehension in his gaze, that same religious fear swarming.

"We will accept," The High Lady announced. "Though we still need to know why you are in the city? How did you get this far without triggering the wards?"

You met her eyes. Feyre was as fierce as you'd heard. You were impressed when you found out that Rhysand had made her his High Lady. A better male than his father, that was for sure. "Hm..." You chuckled lightly. While you studied her, you could tell she was becoming impatient. "I'll put it to you this way, High Lady. My abilities are very old, very complex. Older than the magic that flows through your veins. So I can be wherever I want to be, undetected. I thought that I would trigger the wards here, strong as they are, as some sort of... doorbell we'll say." The sarcasm was clearly not appreciated by her. You noted the look of muted surprise when you used her honorific without malice as you were sure she was accustomed to. "As for my reasons being here, my work will be better undertaken from here." They wanted to press further, though they all remained silent.

"Very well, Veil Whisperer," Rhysand said. "You will stay with Azriel in the city. You will conduct your work in conjunction with him and report to myself and my High Lady periodically until this ordeal is over."

Azriel would rather do anything other than share lodgings with this female, but they were desperate he supposed. The Veil Whisperer looked less than pleased with the terms. Your eyes scanned over all three of them, weighing. You walked toward them. Azriel braced himself. With an outstretched hand, you spoke "Deal."

Rhys, Feyre and Azriel stared at your hand as though there was a trick in your sleeve which put a humoured grin on your face. You kept it outstretched, waited for them to shake. Feyre took your hand first, shaking it gently but firm at the same time. Her lead was followed by Rhysand and Azriel.

You looked at them once again, and dipped you chin as a sign of respect. You were only glad that you managed to stop shaking during your trek here.

Note: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want me to create a tag list :)

[pavedinashes-if]

Jealous snippet for our ex? Them looking at mc laughing with some others. Feeling jealous of mc having someone else's attention so fully. Wanting MC's attention to themselves and wanting to be selfish for once.

POV - Your EX (Felicia / Felix) - Jealousy SNIPPET

[word count: ca. 1.4k words] Felix / Felicia = they / them MC = you Peter, the stranger / friend = he / him

A stone in their stomach, no, a flaming hot piece of sharp lava stone, yes, that is a much better description of the aching pain they feel in the pit of their guts. A sick sensation gripping the edges of their perception - their only focus on you.

Somebody's touch on your arm, by a hand not familiar to them.

If only they checked your socials, then they'd know. But they don't. For the sake of their own sanity, for the sanity of the people around them. Even if it pained them more than they'd admit. Yet, it was the only way to ... to survive? This, this was really though, no more wild thoughts, no more blank images, no head canons of you being neither happy nor sad, this was too real. And they hated it. Not because you seemed fine, well, obviously they hated that you seemed to have a life away from them, being just fine, but it was something else. It was different.

They narrow their eyes, inspecting the unfamiliar face at your side. A guy they'd never seen before. The only one that really annoys them, that makes their blood boil. The others of the group, not their focus right now. Only the guy you laugh at, smile at, with this sincere warmth in your eyes. Those eyes. Your eyes. You should be looking at them this way and only them. This is so wrong. The way your whole body seems to be drawn to the stranger. F feels sick, their hands trembling with anger.

Another heartfelt laugh. Oh please, you are only polite surely. Right?Laughing at his stupid joke, making him flustered, yeah, they saw it, how this idiot brushed his hand through his stupid hair "all shy". Pah. Who wears their hair like this these days anyways?

But then... your hand lands on the stranger's chest and F feels like the ground has been pulled from underneath their feet. Your phantom touch palpable on their own chest, as if punching the air violently from their lunges. They gasp. They feel dizzy, their head spinning. And your hand? It lingers, on the fabric of his stupid ugly sweater. Too long.

F's face turns hot. A disgusting lump in their throat. Please, don't throw up. Breathe. BREATHE. They close their eyes. They need to do something. Now. F straightens their shirt before taking the first step towards you, one of many they have to take before they reach you, at the other side of the bar.

It feels like they had to circle the earth, their legs heavy, the time passing slowly, each step almost pushing them to their edge mentally. When they finally stop in front of you, you're still talking to him, fully focussed on the conversation, not having noticed F yet.

It's now or never.

"H-Hi..." they stutter. Damn, why now. Be chill, be cool.

You're clearly shocked, your eyes wide open, your mouth agape "What are you doing here? No, wait, I don't want to know."

F is surprised to see you this hostile. What did they expect though? And yet, it still hurts. "C'mon, please? Can we... talk?"

"I don't know what there's to talk about." your arms crossed, brows narrowed. The stranger stepping closer to you, creating a safe space between him and you. F glares at them, their gaze ready to kill, and if necessary, their hands too, as they unconsciously flex their fists at the stranger's approach. Just in time you raise your hand, signaling your "friend" to relax, and he does. The stranger and MC exchange a look that makes F's blood pressure rise, a heavy throbbing in their skull. With a smile solely for you and a snarl in F's direction, he steps back and joins the rest of this pitiful group.

A moment of silence follows.

Another try "MC, I..."

"No, I don't want to talk. Listen, I am here with my friends, having a good time. I...I am an not in the head space to... to..."

They interrupt, hissing at you "I don't care about your idiot friends..."

"Excuse me? What is wrong with you?!" you return in anger.

Shit, "I..I'm sorry. I...didnt mean it"

Staring at them, almost fuming at their attitude you retort "No you're not. Don't pretend."

"Ok I'm not. I don't care about these...about them." they look in the direction of your friends, who seem to be whispering among each other, most definitely about them. They gasp. Focus. "I... only ... I..." they stumble over their own words as they meet your gaze again, too much to bear, the intensity in your eyes making them shiver.

"No, don't you dare." you warn, "you can't just come here and be rude to my friends and demand all attentions because you just feel like it, F."

"I..." the words, all gone, their head empty. Their eyes not, they burn. Shit. Goosebumps over their back, the intensity too much to handle. Control yourself. They swallow.

You huff, "No, this is bullshit. You always do .. you always did this."

A moment of silence. None of you speak. No sound to be heard. No faces to be seen except yours. It's only you two.

They take a deep breath, scared of the silence and yet more scared of what you might say next.

"I am sorry." they hush. You must have read it from their lips rather than you actually heard it - your eyes are glued to their mouth. You still look angry ...and hurt. Your eyes, they glister. Shit.

"Why do you..." you manage to say, your voice weak, resenting.

Again they interrupt you "Stop, please, I ... please, can we, can we just talk? For a moment, That's all I want. I will leave after this. I promise. Mc, just a moment. And then I'm gone and you can... enjoy the rest of your night with your... friends" , they beg.

"No, F, I don't think this is the right time for this... for us...", your voice shaking slightly, nobody would notice, but they do. They always would. They know you. They can't breathe.

Another moment of painful silence. This time though F doesn't say anything anymore. Numb. Paralyzed. Beaten.

Nothing.

Just pain.

Resignation.

They're cold.

Then, a head shake.

Hope?

"Listen. One drink. Get us one drink, and I will listen. No more." you throw into the thick air, pulling back the last threads they feared to be cut forever. Right now they would take anything from you. Any word. Any insult. The fear of never hearing your voice again? Haunting. And now this. Don't fuck it up.

"Ok, ok, yes. One drink, I'll be right back." they hurry, their heart racing, no second to waste, no breath to spare. Off to the bar.

At the bar they whistle to get the bar tenders attention, nervously tapping their black card on the counter.

"I need a Flamingo Martini and a beer." You always loved this drink, since the very first time they showed you, it had been your all-time favourite. A small smile creeping to their lip. Is there hope? Their hands shaking.

With a raised brow and a questioning expression the man behind the bar asks F to be more specific "What kind of beer?"

"Whatever, I don't care, make it quick." they toss the card at the bartender impatiently, who barely manages to catch it.

The bartender only rolls their eyes before turning around.

_ Meanwhile _

You have no idea if this was the right thing to do. You feel like shit. Like crazy, your heart is racing. Your emotions? Barely controllable right now. You hate this, the influence F can take on you.

When Peter appears next to you he looks worried. "Everything alright?"

You only nod, not very convincing though, neither to him nor for yourself.

"If you want me to get rid of them, just let me know, ok? We're here for you." Peter tries to reassure you.

And you break. A tear rolling down your cheek. Why? Why of all places does F have to appear here? This is too much.

Peter takes a step closer, slowly raising his hand to your cheek, gently wiping away the tear, a soft smile on his lips, yet eyes full of worry.

You try to return a smile, but fail miserably. You know what's next to come will be hard but you want to get through with it. You need to.

Peter seems to sense this. He nods. "We're just over there when you need something." This time your tiny smile is real. You're grateful for him, for them. To have such good friends. You watch him leave and then turn around to see where F is.

But F is nowhere to be seen.

Your eyes search for them, yet there is no sign of them.

Then your eyes fall to the bar. Two drinks. A beer... and your favourite cocktail. The pink flamingo still moving inside the glass. It's almost hypnotizing, the way it spins in the crystal. Just before it falls out of the glass. To the counter. You swallow, holding your breath. Then it drops to the ground. The pink glass figure bursting the moment it hits the floor.

[massivechildtidalwave]

Olympian Skull.

I did a post on this a while ago but wants to go more into it. Long post.

We don’t get a concrete definition on what a Clouds territory actually is. Because of its description most people view it as a land territory like Hibari basically owning Naminori however a lot of other people also headcannon Hana as a Cloud or Cloud latent with Kyoko as her territory. Obviously Kyoko is a human not a piece of land and ‘territory’ doesn’t have to exactly be a place.

so what or who is Skull’s territory?

The Strongest Seven was a gathering of the strongest Flames users. Even if Skull was a civilian he had to have been a Flame user in order to get the invite, despite the fact he doesn’t seem to know about Flames. it appears he had his for a while because the group seems surprised he doesn’t know about their existence. They have had time to get used to his body, cool down, calm down.

Skull doesn’t get a lot of screen time and we don’t know a lot about his past, something fan fiction writers use to their advantage. All we really know is that he acts childish and that often leads people to believe he is younger than the rest of the arcobalenos.

We know he is a Cloud and does more than likely have a territory even if he didn’t consciously make one so the best place to look at is the circus. He is a stuntman after all and while he could have been more into acting a free traveling circus seems like the best fit for him. What’s a circus known for?

Freaks and runaways . Circuses in the past took in anyone willing to work including runaways and many ‘freakish talents’ could easily become high paying shows. You have a ‘abnormal’ hair color, guess we don’t need to pay for hair dye!

Either the circus was flame active and decided against telling him or thought he already knew. Or for flavor- was mostly flame active but didn’t know either until he bring news back that the weird fire isn’t just weird fire.

Or

it’s a regular civilian circus and all Cloud traits were brushed aside as Skull just being Skull, their protective slightly whiny and possessive younger cousin figure/older brother figure. A lot of shows in a circus are acrobatics or gymnastics related and while I can’t see them owning a TV, when at a big stop and after a show ends groups too tired to cook or bother someone else to cook could go to a restaurant in the city they are preforming at and see the news.

Olympics are a big thing in almost every country- that is a sign of nation pride. Getting to show off on TV as one of the greats for the world to remember your name!

That’s when it comes on. The gymnastics… only it’s kind of boring to Skull. Yes they are talented, they deserve to be on the stage but he watched Blue do a better bean routine on the headboard of her temporary bed than some of the girls there.

(Blue who is too competitive, whose leg was broken and never truly fixed during a competition she should have won. Blue, named after her eye color because she refused her name even when now they almost always look more like his purple then her old Blue… no one dares to mention the change if they notice it at all)

And Skull for some unknown to him reason feels lightly slighted at this development. His people don’t get a chance at the fancy stage, they get stuck cleaning the elephants and picking popcorn off the floor while counting pennies. They only get internet credit and an occasional movie about them made by a person who doesn’t know how to fold laundry.

How is that fair?

He hasn’t had to do gymnastics for a while but he is in no means out of shape, so he practices and tries out for his home country.

for extra pettiness, he gets citizenship in a small country that doesn’t win often just to make a point.

He gets a note about the Strongest Seven but he’s busy, he’ll go to one meeting, maybe two and then he has to buckle down for the showing of a lifetime. Flames are cool but don’t matter right now.

He can’t be seen with assassins and drugs, he is representing more than himself and he refuses to allow HIS people to be more associated with them than they all ready are.

It takes a few attempts for him to escape their clutches, Fon is too observant, Colnello too quick from military training, Reborn too ruthless for him to try again immediately after a try. But he manages it.

(Whether he makes it out before or after the curse is up to the person, after the curse just means he does it under heavy mist illusion.)

He gets in, he gets gold. In Interviews he mentions his group of talented family members who taught him everything he knows. (He mentions Blue).

He goes home to a circus of people just like him who are his and are willing to be his.

Skull ignores the phone Verde made for him going off violently in his pocket. He already checked it for trackers. They wouldn’t be finding him for a while. He could rest.

[whiteteadreams]

Lavender Sunflower

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Female Reader

Preview: Normally, your body and mind refused to ever let you be in this stage, your guard was down, you were too relaxed. So happy, too happy, but Jeongin was able to do that, he was the only person to ever get you that relaxed. He was the only person you allowed yourself to not have your guard up around. He was Jeongin, and you loved Jeongin, a dangerous amount. Although dangerous, it was the only thing that kept you going.

Word Count: 7.1k

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Violence, murder, blood, knife use (not sexual...sorry guys), mature language/cursing, smut, possessiveness...JYP...doesn't make it out alive...he's also like a drug lord!

Smut Warnings: both are switches ig (not rlly dom/sub dynamic), tit/nipple play, slight body worship, riding, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control ig), it's pretty tame tbh, they dance sexually in a club!, mentioned breeding kink

a/n- i watched the show tulsa king with my parents, and it's a mob/gangster/mafia show, so that's why i wrote this, and jeongin has been bias wrecking me so... several months later: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER OMG also...ik adding twice was a little odd, but i just wanted to imagine them holding guns! also...the fight scene is silly...I may rewrite it...I may not!

“How about I get you another drink, something stronger?” The voice coming from your side caused you to lose the staring contest you were having with the man across the club. When you looked over at him, you had to stop yourself from wrinkling your nose and frowning. He was gross, to say the least. He was much older, dressed like a pimp, unkempt facial hair with food stuck in his beard, obviously prowling on young women. The human form of a pig.

Faking a smile, you politely declined his offer, knowing that he’d appreciate you playing hard to get. “I’m okay, thank you though.” Attempting to go back to staring at the man across the club, the man next to you decided that your rejection didn’t actually mean ‘no’. You felt him pull you closer to him by the arm that was now draped across your shoulders, his hand venturing near the swell of your breast. “Come on baby, I can show you a good time, l rented us a private room in the back. Your little friend over there can come watch me play with you too.” Glancing at the man mentioned, his jaw clenched and slightly nodded, just enough for you to notice it but discreet as well, so no one else did.

Giggling to cover up your discomfort when his hand squeezed your whole breast, you nodded eagerly, letting him take your hand, and leading you to the room. Trailing a bit behind him, as much as you could with his tight grip on your wrist. With the ability to see the back of his neck, you saw what you needed. The tip of a flame, a tattoo that symbolizes what he’s a part of, who he is. A skull on fire, in a circle of barbed wire.

Since the pig-man couldn’t see your face, your smile dropped, preparing for what was about to happen. The man from across the bar followed you once he was passed, your nerves were settled when you felt his hand on your lower back, standing guard behind you, not letting the pig-man out of his sight.

Your hand that wasn’t being held tightly traveled behind you, seeking the man across the bar’s. He returned your request to hold hands, immediately engulfing yours into his. The club was loud enough for him to whisper into your ear without the pig-man hearing, but with how much hair is growing in his ears, you doubt he had the best hearing anyways.

“It’ll be okay, just remember the plan, I’ll be right here if he pulls anything.” Although he broke character for the moment, you greatly appreciated the reassurance, thanking him with a nod of your head in his direction.

The pig-man stopped walking when he got to one of the many doors in the back of the club. You heard other women behind the series of the doors, some making sounds of pleasure, others of pain. He turned around and flashed you a smile of stained, yellow teeth. Remembering your role, you batted your eyelashes and bit your bottom lip seductively.

“Ladies first.” He stayed in the doorway, beer belly sticking out, forcing you to rub against him to get through the doorway. Pig-man moved for the man from across the club, but still let him go first, trying to assert his dominance.

Pig-man pointed at you and then the bed, he did the same to the man but to the chair in the corner. The cuck chair.

“Take off your clothes baby.” You looked at the man and then back to the pig-man. Throwing him your cheekiest smile you responded with, “Mmm, no. You first, wanna see you.” Both men smiled, for very different reasons.

“Now, now, darlin’ that isn’t what I told you to do, you’re going to listen to me. I don’t give a shit if I end up having to force you or not, but I will get what I want from you.” You felt disgusted when his smoky breath fanned across your face, and it was even worse when he kissed you, shoving his tongue in your mouth and wrapping his hand around your neck.

You looked at the other man and he nodded at you, telling you he was ready. Just as the pig-man shoved his hand up your dress to cup your sex, the other man grabbed his hair from his scalp, pulling him off of you. As he was about to yell, you saw him place a cloth over his mouth and nose, making him breath in the chemicals and then collapsing.

The pig-man’s dead weight crushed your body until he was rolled off of you. You looked up in the dimly lit room and smiled at the other man. “Jeongin”. He helped you off the velvet bed, kicked the pig-man just for good measure and walked to the bag he had set by the chair, managing to keep it out of the pig-man’s sight.

“That was fucking awful to witness and I’m sorry you had to go through that, but we got him.” Jeongin pulled you into his arms after taking out what he needed from the bag. The feeling of his hands on you now was much better than the pair that was on you. “As long as we get what we need, then it’ll be okay.” You breathed in the scent that was purely Jeongin and let him go to allow him to get back to work.

You sat in the chair that Jeongin was occupying and watched him tie the pig-man up, securing him to one of the legs of the bed. You watched him make sure that there was no way he could get out without any assistance. “Now, we wait for him to wake up. I didn’t use too much chloroform just so we wouldn’t be sitting here for hours. But in case we are, it’s a good thing this fucker rented the room for the rest of the night.” As Jeongin walked back to you, you heard him whisper the word ‘perv’ towards the now tied up man. You got up just enough for Jeongin to slide in the seat and he pulled you down to sit on his lap.

For the next 40 minutes, you sat in Jeongin’s lap, playing with his hair and fingers while discussing and double checking the rest of the plan. You were interrupted by the groggily noises of the pig-man, everything muffled by the rag in his mouth. When his eyes finally opened completely, he looked around, stopping once he saw you and Jeongin. The man below you picked you up just to softly place you down again but not on him. He sat you back in the chair, kissed your hair and approached the pig-man.

“Wha-” He was stopped by Jeongin, slapping him in the face. “This is how this is gonna go, you’re going to shut the fuck up until I ask you something, and once that happens, you’re going to answer me, honestly. Understand?” The pig-man just nodded.

Jeongin removed the rag from his mouth and pulled out the small notebook he kept in his back pocket. “So I’ve been told that your name is Paul Bianco, also known as “The Tiger”, you’re obviously a part of the Flaming Skulls, stupid name but whatever, is this all correct?” Formerly known as the pig-man to you, Paul nodded.

“Who sent you?” His voice was shaky, scared of Jeongin, who just sighed and rolled his eyes. “The fuck did I tell you before this started?” Without receiving an answer, you watched Jeongin pull out his switchblade and step forward, bringing himself closer to Paul. He crouched down to his level and brought the knife up to Paul’s cheek.

Digging the tip of the knife through the flesh of Paul’s cheek, Jeongin started talking again, louder than Paul’s cries and pleas. “I’m gonna hurt you no matter what you do, but I’ll go easy on you if you just follow my directions. Now, I need to know one fucking thing. Who killed Hwang Hyunjin? Just give me the name and we’ll be on our way.”

Paul started shaking his head, not wanting to give away the answer. “Come on man, I have a family, a wife, kids, please let me go.” Jeongin looked behind him, at you, shaking his head, “If you’re such a family man then why were you trying to pull something on my girlfriend?”

“Well you know, the wife’s gotten older, can’t please me in the way a man wants.” He laughed sleazily, Jeongin started laughing back, mocking the man. “And your girlfriend over there, she’s just so pretty and she was there, and I-I-I thought maybe she could-” he lost his voice when the tip of Jeongin’s knife returned to Paul’s neck.

Jeongin’s fake laugh continued, louder, “Yeah, I know she’s pretty,” his laughter stopped, his voice now serious, dripping with venom, “but just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean she’s there for free use.” Jeongin’s fist made contact with Paul’s nose, snapping something in it. He stepped back and watched Paul’s cheeks wet with tears and blood. Blood pouring out of both nostrils, dripping into his mouth, he started sputtering, trying to speak without swallowing the thick, red liquid that was starting to spill onto the already stained carpet.

“Paul, Paul, Paul, all I asked was a question, and then you insulted me, acting like you own the love of my life. So I’ll ask you again. Who the fuck, killed Hwang Hyunjin?” Jeongin’s sentence ended with the sound of his gun cocking, pointing it right between Paul’s eyes.

The man started squirming, “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you, please just don’t kill me, I’ll answer anything and everything you want! I’ll apologize to your girlfriend!” Paul looked over at you and started begging for forgiveness, apologizing profusely.

Jeongin approved of the man’s begs but didn’t put down the gun. “So, since you seem to struggle with my main question, I’ll ask some other things that I need to know. First, in 2018, who was the rat that snuck into my company?” Paul answered immediately, and he didn’t hesitate with the next several questions either, giving away information as he was trembling, terrified for his life.

You sat back in the chair, taking notes after Jeongin tossed you his little notebook. Refusing to miss a single thing, you jotted down everything, in case the information was needed later on.

But Jeongin’s patience had worn thin, now only wanting the answer that got the both of you here. “Now. I’m not going to ask again, who killed Hwang Hyunjin?” It was technically a question, but Jeongin made it sound like a demand. Paul Bianco didn’t have any time left. And he knew that, so he gave in.

“Park Jinyoung killed your friend.” And there he had it. Jeongin finally had the name of the man that killed Hyunjin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” But Paul was still a nervous wreck.

“Don’t tell him I ratted him out, please, he’ll kill me!” You had picked up Jeongin’s bag and walked over to him. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him killing you.” Paul’s blood ran cold, “But, I answered all your questions! I complied! Please don’t kill me, why would you kill me?”

Jeongin walked over to the door, his hand on the handle, he turned half of his body so he could keep the gun lined up with Paul’s head.

“Because you touched my girlfriend.” And with that, Jeongin pulled the trigger, and the pig-man’s body went limp, blood puddling around him, coming out of the hole that was now in his head.

Jeongin turned the doorknob and walked out, pulling you with him. “Jisung already has control of the security cameras, so we won’t be seen on those. And with him renting the room, it’s under his name, not ours.” You continued down the hallway, not going back through the crowd of people dancing. The side door was deserted, no one near, not even bouncers for the club.

There was one person though, waiting in a car, for the two of you. Jeongin opened the door and helped you in, getting settled in the car and finally taking a deep breath for the first time in hours. Exhaustion was taking over his body now that the adrenalin was no longer running through his veins.

“Hey Jeongin, Miss. Y/n. Are you guys, okay?” The car was now moving and the accent that belonged to Bang Chan filled the car. The both of you just nodded, but Jeongin spoke up, not to answer his question though. “Park Jinyoung. That bastard killed Hyunjin.” Chan let out an exhale that sounded like a whistle, continuing to drive.

You laid your head on Jeongin’s shoulder and looked at what he was doing on his phone, you saw his messages with Minho, Jeongin telling him to track Jinyoung down. Minho responded by telling the younger man to take the weekend off, as he’s been under a lot of pressure and stress recently.

“It would be good for you, to take a bit of time for yourself. We could go somewhere secluded, just for a few days. It would be nice, Jeongin.” Chan overheard the conversation and spoke up, “Minho already told me to take you to one of the houses, I thought you knew…” Jeongin groaned, not wanting to stop working, and you just giggled, excited to truly be alone with him.

Jeongin was about to argue but he could see your excitement, so he didn’t say anything, he texted Minho back to say thank you and allowed Chan to take them wherever Minho had sent them. With his trust in Chan mixed with the warmth of your soft body next to him, he allowed himself to lay his head on yours and close his eyes.

You hadn’t realized that you fell asleep until Jeongin was whispering you awake, stating that you’ve arrived at the house. Taking off your seatbelt, Jeongin helped your tired self out of the car, making sure you didn’t hit your head on the roof of the vehicle.

When you were fully out of the vehicle and got a view of the house Minho had sent you to, your eagerness took over the drowsiness. It was one of the beach houses, along the coast. You could hear the waves crashing into the dock and you could smell the water. Barely letting Jeongin say goodbye to Chan, you grabbed his hand and ran to the door of the house.

“We’re alone, we’re alone together for once.” You whispered into the air, Chan had driven off so only Jeongin and the wind heard you. You leaned over the railing on the balcony, the door to get inside was behind you but you paid no attention to that. Your attention was set on how the moonlight was reflecting onto the water.

Having no intentions of moving inside, you involuntarily shivered and Jeongin was wrapping his arms around you, suggesting that the two of you settle down. You let him gently pull you inside, the heat engulfing you immediately, the goosebumps that had risen on your skin were no longer there.

“I’m going to unpack our bags, you get comfortable.” You looked over at said bags that Minho had had his assistants pack for the two of you and honestly didn’t care about those. You just wanted him to stay close to you. Jeongin was behind you, leaning on you while you leaned on the kitchen island. He spoke into your hair and whispered his love for you while walking away. He kept a hand on you until he was too far, letting it trail behind him, trying to keep you close for as long as possible.

While he was piddling around upstairs, getting everything set up, you hooked up your phone to the TV. Playing music through the surround sound speakers, it was quiet, but everywhere. You looked outside the window, watching the waves, swaying your body to the music. All the lights were off except for the small ones underneath the cabinets. To enhance the calming mood even more, you lit a candle, a clean scent.

So caught up in your own world, you didn’t notice that Jeongin had returned until his knuckles lightly knocked on the wall, the one with his side pressed against. Jeongin would be happy if he never did anything but watch you for the rest of his life.

Your voice was slow and quiet, tiredness evident on your face but even though Jeongin wanted you to get some rest, he couldn’t help but allow you to subconsciously pull him to you. “Dance with me, please?”

How could he say no to you?

The slow and calm yet sultry music being played on the TV in the next room, casted from your phone mixed well with the candle burning a clean scent on the kitchen island, the mood finished with moonlight flooding the otherwise dark room. It was perfect.

When Jeongin reached you the first thing he felt was the thin satin dress that covered your otherwise bare body. “Are you not cold?” Always putting your comfort first, Jeongin asked you as soon as he felt just how thin your dress was. “Yes, but I’m okay, you know I’d rather be cold than hot.” He accepted your excuse but still pulled you as close as humanly possible, you wanted to dance so he was going to dance with you and warm you up.

‘What are you waiting for? (Ooh, yeah) You got me lost in the clutch of you (lost in you)’

You and Jeongin swayed back and forth, feeling the salty breeze come through the open door, chilling your skin, but neither of you cared. When you were with each other neither of you could bring yourself to care about what was happening around you. Too caught up in the feeling of each other. You wondered if you would love each other as much as you do now if you hadn’t gone through everything together. Ever since you were kids, the training, the missions, your parents’ disappointment for their respective child. Always having the weight of the world on your back, but with the other walking next to you, it was more bearable. You and Jeongin danced together a lot, it was your guys’ way of winding down from the work heavy day.

The world could be on fire, and you believed that you and Jeongin would dance through it, until you couldn’t dance anymore, until your last breath.

You kept swaying, the playlist continuing to provide you with rhythms. Your eyes burned, too tired, needing to close them. So you did, you didn’t intend on actually falling asleep, especially standing up in Jeongin’s arms, but you couldn’t help it.

Jeongin noticed your limp body and smiled. “Let’s go to bed.” You were now in the hypnagogic stage, half awake, half asleep. Stirring when Jeongin stopped swaying but still calm enough to be relaxed.

Normally, your body and mind refused to ever let you be in this stage, your guard was down, you were too relaxed. So happy, too happy, but Jeongin was able to do that, he was the only person to ever get you that relaxed. He was the only person you allowed yourself to not have your guard up around. He was Jeongin, and you loved Jeongin, a dangerous amount. Although dangerous, it was the only thing that kept you going.

You grumbled when you smelled the smoke from the candle Jeongin blew out, but you still didn’t wake up fully, you heard the music stop, and then ascend up the stairs when he carried you in his arms. He stood you upright on your feet once you entered the room. He helped you get dressed into pajamas, so you’d be much more comfortable. He made sure you were okay before helping you lay into bed. Feeling the smooth, cold sheets under you, you sighed, finally calm enough to let your muscles relax. Always on the run, always stressed, always feeling something other than happiness. Jeongin was what kept you alive, and he made sure you knew that you were his world.

“Jeongin?” Your tired eyes opened a bit more, enough to watch him remove his shirt and slip on some sweats, revealing the hard muscles covered in tattoos and scars, too much pain imprinted on his body for his age, but you couldn’t say anything different about your own. Minus all the tattoos, you had a few, but not nearly as many as Jeongin had.

He looked over his shoulder at you and hummed, urging you to continue. “Can you leave the door open a bit please? I want to feel the breeze.” Without denying you or letting you know he was going to open the door; he just did. The door had a screen behind it, making sure no rodents or big bugs made their way in. He left the screen door fully shut but cracked the actual door a bit. You watched him bend down to grab the thick wooden rod, which he placed in the door’s track, so no one could open the door enough to enter the room from the outside.

Making sure the door was as secure as it could be with following your request of leaving it open, he turned around to face you in the bed. He slid in, laying in the middle of the bed so he could reach you. Your body was slack so when Jeongin pulled you to him, there was no resistance. This was how you always slept, your body curled up, and Jeongin’s curled up behind you, an act of protection, even in his sleep. His hands were wrapped around your stomach, always ready to pull you back if someone tried to take you from him.

Listening to the wind whistle and feeling the breeze on your skin along with Jeongin’s steady breath on your neck, you returned to sleep, wishing to stay in this state of mind with Jeongin forever.

However, all good things must come to an end. The alarm clock of habit in your head made sure you didn’t sleep past seven in the morning, but given you had an extremely late night, it cut you some slack. When you finally blinked your eyes open, in the fuzzy, morning sight, you saw that the actual alarm clock on the bed side table read ‘9:32’.

Jeongin’s arm was still wrapped around you, in the same position he was in when he fell asleep, ever the snoozer. But when he felt you rustle, he finally moved, but his movements were fluid, not being held back with the stiffness of sleep.

“Did you just wake up?” Your voice was hoarse, complimenting your dry throat perfectly.

“No, I’ve been up since seven, just decided to stay in bed.” He kissed the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair.

You rolled over, causing Jeongin to do the same. “I’m glad you were able to sleep in.” He looked over at you, smiling at your hair covering your face.

“I’m sorry you weren’t.” He shrugged the best he could while lying down but you still didn’t like how he brushed it off, he needed the sleep, just as much as you if not more.

“Well this was what we signed up for.” Both of you stared up at the ceiling, tired of everything. So young but already cursed with the evils of the world. “We didn’t sign up for shit Jeongin, we were born into this mess. My parents and your parents had us just to be the next heirs of their stupid ass gangster mob.” You rolled your eyes and rolled over to face him. The slight breeze entered the room through the opening, only protected by the screen door.

You wholeheartedly believed that if you hadn’t fallen in love with Jeongin you would’ve ended everything by now, blinded by the bad and unable to see what good was still left in the world. Jeongin was the only good still left in the world, or at least the only thing you cared enough about at this point.

Even though the both of you should probably talk about your problems more, whenever you do, you’d get tired of it, quickly.

“I love you Jeongin.” You rolled over on your side and looked at him. He smiled and did the same, now facing you as well. Jeongin reached for you, “I love you too, thanks for putting up with me and my shit.” You just laughed and sat up a bit, just enough to lean over to him, placing your lips on his.

Jeongin tightened his arms around you, moving them down to your hips, you giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile. Pulling back slightly, taking in his features, he was smiling with his eyes, something he rarely ever did. You kissed his smile and shivered, the wind picking up, reminding you that you forgot to close the door. What was going to be just a small peck deepened, like always.

You decided to go with the flow and take it a step further.

Hoisting yourself up on your left knee, you swung your right one over Jeongin’s hips. With a lazy smile, his hands drug up your legs, caressing the skin until they lightly grasp your hips.

Leaning down to connect your lips, the both of you smiled into the kiss, your teeth lightly touched, and you pulled back to giggle. “Jeongin~” He rolled your hips into his. The clothed friction was nice, but not enough.

Jeongin could feel your need, the urgency evident in your shallow thrusts. “Lift up a bit” you listened to his soft voice, lifting your hips so he could hook his thumbs in your shorts and panties waistband and pull them down all at once. After they were over your ass, you finished removing them yourself. And while you were off of Jeongin, you took the opportunity to pull down his own sweats and briefs.

You had to hold yourself from physically jumping on him, but it seemed like he was having the same debate. The room was quiet except for your breathing and the sound of the rain pitter pattering outside. The cold drops falling from the sky just intensified the chilled draft in the room, but with your bare skin against Jeongin’s, it was tolerable.

Sitting back on Jeongin’s pelvis, you leaned down, slotting your lips against his. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, your pebbled nipples taunt against his own. The feeling of the nubs flicking against each other caused your back to dip in an arch. With your back arching your pussy rubbed against Jeongin’s cock. The wet lips of your cunt spread slightly at the intrusion of his dick, your arousal lubing him up enough that once you lifted your hips just enough to take his cock in your hand and slip it in your wanton hole.

Jeongin groaned against your mouth, taking the back of your neck in his hand and using it as leverage to push your mouth to his even more.

Moving your hips while laying down proved to be more challenging than you had originally thought. Placing a longing kiss against his lips once more, you pushed off Jeongin’s chest and held your back straight, allowing your hips to move freely.

Feeling his cock move so deeply within you, you could feel him in your stomach, just below your belly button. Needing more, you lifted off him for a second before slamming back down and speeding up your moments.

Jeongin placed his hands on the curve of your hips and dug his nails in slightly. Biting his lip and matching your thrusts, he was entranced by the sight above him.

Your eyes were glossed over, so overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your veins, your hair was a mess, not only from being asleep but also the movement, baby hairs sticking to your face from the sweat that was starting to form. But although these were all gorgeous sights to Jeongin, what took first place was your bouncing tits. With every thrust they would cause a slapping sound from them bouncing back and hitting your skin.

Moving his hands from your hips and trailing his fingertips along your soft skin, Jeongin grabbed your chest. Playing with the mounds of flesh sitting heavy in his hands, he squished them, pushed them together, and pinched your nipples.

Pinching them particularly tightly, you squealed and clenched your pussy around his cock. Jeongin groaned, feeling the constriction that had surrounded him.

You shivered again, but this time wasn’t because of Jeongin. The breeze coming from outside began to pick up. Nipples pulled taunt from the cold air wrapping around your body, the feeling was contrasted by Jeongin’s warm fingers going back to playing with them.

Everything soon became almost too much. Each roll of your hips caused his tip to brush against the gummy spot inside of you, plus your clit would meet with the bone of his pelvis, causing two sources of stimulation, or course without mentioning the attention and torture your breasts were receiving.

Each pinch and thrust caused little shocks of electricity to shoot throughout your body and those little bursts of pleasure fueled you to move faster. Jeongin picked up on your impatience and decided to take things into his own hands.

Flipping over, your back hit the soft, plush bedding. Jeongin took a hold under your knee, and hoisted your leg above his shoulder, resting it on the broad muscle. Jackhammering his hips into yours, the sound of the rain was no longer heard and the wind hitting your body was ignored. All you could hear was the sound of you and your lover’s skin meeting and all you could feel was the knot in your lower stomach hanging on by a threat.

Your edge was so close but still out of reach, crying out, you gripped Jeongin’s arms, feeling the muscles hidden underneath the skin flex from the feeling of your nails digging in.

Soon his thrusts turned sloppy, unable to hold a consistent rhythm. Dropping to his left elbow, he hid his face in your neck, ruthlessly sucking and biting at your sweet spot. But that wasn’t enough for either of you, with his free hand, he traveled it down your body to the apex of your thighs. Taking his middle and ring finger, he relentlessly played with the nub of nerves.

All of a sudden, you broke. Yelling out into the air, you closed your eyes and clamped your legs against Jeongin’s torso. His hips chased his own high, barely letting you ride out yours, he kept you in that moment of white heat until his own high hit him.

Groaning into your hair, his hips snapped slower, finally allowing you to ride out your high, his thrusts turned into shallow rolls. Your hips no longer met and soon your muscles didn’t jolt periodically as you were finally coming back to the ground, no longer up in the clouds.

Jeongin stayed hidden in your hair for a few minutes, just holding you close to his body, protecting you from anything and everything.

“I love you, so fucking much. And, I’m gonna get us out of this life, I promise. We finish this last mission, and we can move away. Move away to the middle of nowhere, fill it with our kids.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling too hard. “Can we have a wrap-around porch?”

“Yeah, a wrap-around porch and whatever else you want. I’ll give you the fucking world.”

Scratching Jeongin’s scalp, your smile couldn’t be contained once he let out a purr like sound. You giggled and kissed the side of his head.

“Jeongin, let’s go clean up.” Shaking his head, Jeongin just tightened his grip on you.

The sweet and comfortable moment that was once filled with playing with Jeongin’s hair and listening to the rain was ruined by the blaring noise of Jeongin’s phone ringing.

He groaned in your hair again, this time from annoyance but nonetheless rolled off of you and onto his back. Blindly reaching for his phone, Jeongin mumbled a couple of curses.

Once his fingertips were able to grasp the phone, he brought it to his vision and groaned at the caller ID.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were the one who told me to take this break.”

You couldn’t hear the other person but you followed in Jeongin’s path and laid on his chest, drawing circles on the span of his chest.

“Are you serious? I finally get a fucking moment to just breathe with my girlfriend and you take it away! There are 15 other people a part of our team. Literally pair up Seungmin and Momo, boom I just fixed it for you!”

Jeongin rubbed your arm, kissed your head, and rolled out from under you. He stood up straight, with his back to you, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. You smiled at the sight of his bare ass and you couldn’t help but reach out and pinch the temptingly soft skin.

The man on the phone jumped a bit, startled by your joke. Rolling back over to your original position, you just smiled at him, it wasn’t innocent, but playful.

Jeongin turned to face you and looked at you. How your hair was a mess from him running his fingers through it, how your skin had that after sex glow to it, and how your eyes were set on him. It was evident that you loved him and he knew that you would never know the extent of his love for you. He couldn’t even fathom it.

Without his smile faltering, he ended the phone call with a, “Okay jackass, thanks for ruining my day.” But even if his smile stood its ground, yours didn’t. Molding your lips into frown, you brought up the sheet, intending for him to slide back into bed. Your intentions were innocent, but of course, Jeongin was given the view of your body, freshly marked with kisses and bruises from him. Raising his eyebrows and smiling growing sinister, he climbed back into bed, accepting your invitation.

“Get whatever is in your head out. I’m tired again.” You poked at his chest accusingly, but the both of you knew that there wasn’t a single complaint behind each jab at his pec.

“So, what was that all about?” You were worried from the little snippet of the conversation that we were able to hear. “We have another mission tonight.” Jeongin rolled his eyes, annoyed that someone is trying to steal your alone time away.

“What is it?” You didn’t move from your spot, even though you probably should sooner rather than later. “Park Jinyoung has some giant drug trade at a club tonight, one of the guys who snuck into his team told us. You and I are supposed to play the unsuspicious horny couple on the dance floor. When we see him move to the basement of the club, we’re supposed to pretend to head to the bathroom to “bang” but follow them when they aren't looking.”

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

"Why are all the guys we have to hunt down hiding in clubs?" Your back was still pressed flushed to Jeongin's chest as you swayed to the music sensually, but still aware of your surroundings. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth next to your ear, "Because men are disgusting." He kissed your neck when you giggled.

"You're a man, what does that say about you?" Smirking and side eyeing him, waiting for his answer. "I have my own disgusting thoughts about you, but I keep them to myself." You felt his tongue trace the shell of your ear.

Jeongin always managed to set a fire deep within your core. His hands were sliding down your sides and landed on your hips. He was wearing a black button down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos. The veins that ran up and down the length of his exposed skin distracted you, you wanted the muscles to flex, causing his veins to become more prominent.

“I know you like my arms and hands baby, but you gotta stay on task.” You could feel his smile against your neck and his hardening dick on your ass. Tearing your eyes from their desired view, you moved your head to the side, towards Jeongin’s ear. “You’re the one that’s off task, you’re getting hard just from dancing.”

“With grinding against an ass like yours, no one can really blame me.”

Letting out a soft moan at the feeling of his lips sucking a bruise into your neck, you rolled your hips back against his crotch. “Jeongin, we can’t right now.” You wanted to, but you simply couldn’t.

“You’re right, it’s just so hard, you make me so hard.” Jeongin tightened his grip on your hips and turned you around. He planted a harsh yet passionate on your lips and forced his tongue through your lips. Your hands took purchase in his hair and pulled the strands taunt. His hands did the same but with the skin on your ass. He squeezed the muscle so tightly; you were sure that he’d leave handprints.

Moaning and gasping into the other’s mouth, you ignored your surroundings, which was not something the two of you did often. Jeongin kicked your legs apart and bent his knee a bit, allowing you to use his thigh. “Jeongin” you moaned, the music drowning out your noises.

~Jeongin!~

Hearing Jeongin’s name through the earpieces broke the two of you out of whatever spell you were under.

~We can see both of you. Please stick to the plan. The target is on the move.” ~

You rolled your eyes and looked around, continuing to dance with Jeongin. He’s just as irritated as soon as he is lost in the vision of you. He’s taken right back out of it. Grumbling, Jeongin gripped your hips and continued to sway to the music.

“Alright, I see him. It's time baby.” You smiled, happy that this was going to be your last mission.

You watched as Park Jinyoung and his men headed to the basement, leaving their spots at the bar vacant. You nodded at Momo, who played bartender for the night. She winked at you, letting you know that she was able to spike their drinks. Following their path, you and Jeongin stopped at the bathroom line, he pushed you against the wall so you could peek over his shoulder, keeping your eyes on the man of the hour.

“Okay, they’re all inside, they didn’t leave anyone as a lookout.” You whispered into Jeongin’s neck, but before pulling away, you left a teasing kiss. He looked down at you with a glare, but you knew there was no malicious intent behind it.

Jeongin nodded at the security camera, knowing that Jisung was watching the two of you.

~Alright everyone, let’s go~

Changbin walked past Jeongin, tapping his back to give him the signal. The two of you followed him down the stairs into the basement. Ducking below all the windows that separated you to them, you headed to the door.

Chan, Naeyeon, Sana, and Felix were ready to attack them from the other side of the room. Then, Minho and Seungmin were placed as bouncers, guarding the two main doors into the club. The back door was being watched by Tyuzu and Jeongyeon. Lastly, Chaeyoung and Jihyo were ready to attack if they got past everyone else.

Mina and Dahyun, as the getaway drivers, were waiting for the 15 of you to get out of there before the police showed up once they were called. It was a large team, but Park Jinyoung had a sea of men behind him, and just tonight, there were probably 30 littered around the club. But you guys had rage feuling you. The death of your team member and friend was enough to make you kill anyone that stood in your way.

~3~

Changbin, Jeongin, and you all looked at each other. Changbin had handed you weapons during the descent of the stairs, they were now loaded and cocked back.

~2~

The three of you took a collective breath.

~1~

Fixing your footing, you and Jeongin smiled at each other.

~Now~

Changbin kicked down the door, Chan did the same on the other side, and you, Jeongin, Sana, and Felix all took cover behind various objects around the room. Open fire rained down. Park Jinyoung made a run for it, leaving his men to fight his battles for him. No one was able to get a direct shot at him, Sana was only able to skim his shoulder as he ran upstairs.

You could hear people yelling upstairs, but with Seungmin, Minho, and Momo as the next line of defense, you weren’t worried.

~I got him guys~

Of course, it was Seungmin.

~We’re gonna head out to the cars and pull around back~

The showdown didn’t last as long as you thought it would. Obviously, they weren’t expecting to be raided as they quickly ran out of ammo.

“Alright, I think we got them all, let’s get out of here guys.” Chan spoke the first words since the raid began and you were relieved that it was over. Or at least, Jeongin and you were going to ask for it to be the end.

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

“We can’t promise that the two of you will never be called but I can promise that you will be called significantly less.” Jeongin and you had asked Minho if you could have a talk with him. He understood as the two of you are getting older and this isn’t the life you wanted nor the life you signed up for.

“Thank you sir.” Nodding your heads in thanks, you turned your backs to him, ready to leave.

“One thing!” Minho called once your hand grasped the door handle. Turning around, Jeongin was able to grab whatever Minho had thrown your way in mid air. Once the object hit his hand, a jingle was heard.

“Enjoy that wrap around porch. The team and I will be sure to visit once you get settled”.

[coldflasher]

so me and my friend had to put our flash (re)watch on pause for a while bc she broke her ankle so we haven't seen each other in a while, but we finally picked season 8 back up and. god. i don't even have anything funny or insightful to say about it because it's just bad. it's so bad. and i couldn't even put my finger on why it was so bad at first, but eventually my friend pointed out that like. NOTHING happens. the characters literally just stand in a circle and talk. then whenever something DOES happen they go "hey so this thing just happened, hold on a sec while i describe it word for word in case you missed it." there's no action 90% of the time and there's no meta of the week for the most part so every episode feels samey and directionless as we slowly crawl our way towards a resolution of a plotline that isn't particularly compelling anyway

the characters are flat and nothingy. barry, the main character of the show, does FUCKING NOTHING EVER. there was one scene where he was running down the street, which he obviously used to do in every single ep, and my friend was like "holy shit i feel like we haven't actually seen him RUN in ages" and she was right. the man whose WHOLE SUPERPOWER IS RUNNING VERY FAST DOESN'T RUN ANYWHERE ONSCREEN FOR LIKE SIX EPS STRAIGHT. we see him run in and out of rooms but never see a straight shot of him running TO anywhere. WHY?

then there's the fact that the overarching plots are bad. the characters are split into two factions that don't interact at all. iris having time sickness could be cool and interesting and there's lots of potential for interesting character work there, but instead of making anything happen they have her sit on a couch and not touch anything in case she erases it from the timeline.

at one point she literally GOES MISSING and barry just. DOES NOTHING?? im sorry, fuck whatever else is happening, you know if iris disappeared he'd be tearing the city apart looking for her but all that happens is cecile is like "omg barry i can feel that you're sad, what's going on??" and he's like "iris is missing, im worried about her." WHAT!! THEN FUCKING LOOK FOR HER YOU DINGBAT!! i've said this before but s1-4 barry would absolutely beat the shit out of this version of himself if he found out about this

and don't even get me STARTED on caitlin and her almost husband, the skeleton fire demon who eats grief---again, this had the bare bones (pun intended) of an interesting plotline; a meta that feeds off people's grief could actually be really powerful and interesting to explore, but he's a magic skeleton from another universe who tricks her by pretending to be her dead husband so it's just stupid. at one point the characters like "why are we doing this plotline now, 7 years after ronnie died?" and i'm like yes, why ARE we? because again, having caitlin fall prey to the manipulations of a malevolent force that feeds on grief would actually be very topical and interesting if it had happened in, say, s2, when ronnie had just died for the second time. if her grief was fresh and raw and painful it could be conceivable that she'd be desperate enough to go "well i thought he was dead once and he survived, maybe he did it again", and cling to that, allowing herself to be tricked into believing this evil sentient flame skull was really ronnie. but it's been SEVEN YEARS and she literally just got a new boyfriend who has no personality and who we never see again, so it doesn't make any sense and i don't care. also the show keeps trying to convince you to care by having caitlin go "ronnie was such a valuable member of the team, you knew and loved him!!" and it's like... did we though? did we really? he's never made a big impression on me personally. the only character who was close to ronnie and actually knew him was cisco and he's not here. they added a few flashbacks and a proposal scene to try and make us care more about the caitlin/ronnie relationship but they didnt do anything for me because i was too busy staring at danielle's terrible wig. like babes that is NOT what caitlin's s1 hair looked like, did you even try

the skeleton fire demon stuff is actually kind of enjoyable to watch at times purely because it's so fucking ridiculous, the whole thing is a trainwreck, so i did somewhat enjoy getting to make fun of it but JESUS CHRIST IT'S SO TERRIBLE. HOW DID THE SHOW FALL SO FAR. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED

[rayshippouuchiha]

About Ottabio being the Cloud Guardian, I have almost never seen that take. All I've seen is that Ottabio is the Cloud OFFICER, not Guardian. I agree with that, too. There wasn't nearly enough Rage from Xanxus when he talks about Ottabio. Like, the Varia hate him because he betrayed his Boss and got him Iced but not the Loathing I'd expect from him betraying Xanxus. Since the entire Fandom agrees that Harmonizing is a Thing, even if Canon never gave us that, that would have been a soul deep betrayal. Like on Nono's level.

What I've always been exposed to is that he was good enough at making sure the Clouds did their jobs and wrote a report on it but not talented, strong or smart enough for Xanxus to consider him for more.

Also, the opinion was that the Good Clouds all saw the pain in the butt job and bailed. Like they didn't want to wrangle other Clouds. I mean, just look at Hibari or Skull. Neither of them would want that responsibility and would leave entirely. Those 2 are just lucky that they're strong enough and geographically and familially lucky enough to escape being pressganged into a Family when they're at their weakest. Whereas the rest of the Italian Clouds need be to under someone's banner before they're forced into one. The Varia happens to encourage their violent tendencies so there should be Good Clouds Xanxus would like.

I think he never had a Cloud Guardian because none of them have stepped up to control the territory. Xanxus is the Boss. His Elements have to be ready to Step Up and since none of the Clouds he would have been willing to consider never took that step, he won't consider them in turn.

The only one that did step up wasn't qualified enough for Xanxus. Ottabio did the job so he was enough for the Officer position but not the Guardian one. Xanxus is Particular about his Guardians. Varia is a place for the Best which shows how good his Guardians are to be the Officers as well.

Varia is HC'd to be Survival of the Fittest, so if someone doesn't like you having the job, if they can kill/beat you, they get the job. So with Xanxus's Guardians all running their divisions, it shows that they are Very Good. Of course, there's always allowances for people who just don't want the jobs or just aren't suitable to the position but may be stronger. But his Guardians all run their divisions smoothly enough that there's no gossip about them being bad at it. (Umei no Mai's Black Sky shows good examples of this and is now the only way I can see the Varia operating. She also has fascinating theories on how Flames effect others, and might explain a bit of Nono's Everything and also has a Galaxy Brain Take on Giotto (and Alaude by extension). It's so freaking good.

And about Nono's betrayal being soul deep, I Highly Recommend that you read Hidden Sky by Sefiru. (I actually have the title AND the author memorized for this. That tells you it's good enough to Remember so you can look it up whenever.) It brings up such an amazing idea about Xanxus and a peek at what made the Cradle Affair happen (the Flame side of it, I mean). Also it has poly Tsuna, amazing PoVs, actually SHOWS how Skies are treated as Royalty, not just has people respecting a Sky (PoVs of Flame Actives in Namimori reacting to Tsuna, it was so clear how highly Tsuna was regarded and then they MET him) and Hana squaring off with the Vindice (Iconic).

Since I'm ranting about Clouds, I'm going to keep going. I hate that everyone says that Clouds are Lone Wolves. Like, statistically, yes some probably are, but Every Cloud we see is part of a Community. Whether they're the Leader of it (Hibari, Skull) or a Follower (Visconti), they are always connected with others.

Hibari is Obviously a Leader but I Swear Skull is, too. This HC will Never change. Cause this is a travelling stuntsman. The World's Greatest who does his own shows. That means he needs a Crew. People to rent venues, advertise, do the finances, his mechanics (for during the show to keep things moving, otherwise I HC Skull taking care of his bikes), the Run Around Agent (thanks, Serifu) and whoever is Skull's Right Hand to pass on Skull's orders. (I'm going to do a stunt here and this is what I'll do. Ok, Skull, I'll order/build the equipment, rent the venue, let everyone know you're performing, etc. Right Hand then makes the calls to his minions.) Because I can't believe that Skull wouldn't rigorously maintain his Crew since they are needed to let him break physics and go against the supposed laws of nature. His stunts should be impossible. I HC that as that being what Skull fights against, not people (no offense, Hibari). Also, I low-key HC the Carcassa Famiglia is Skull's Crew dressing up as Mafia to that Skull has his own banner to be under, otherwise people would be Stupid enough to keep bothering Skull since he's just a Civilian pushover. This way, if someone wants to hire Skull, they'll contact the Carcassa's and his Run Around Agent will "Lose" the requests. So Skull isn't having to fight off recruitment all the time.

Another Highly Recommended fic is Karmic Balance by Sanjuno. KHR/Naruto cover where Kakashi and Obito are reborn in KHR and break the patterns of Fate. The 10th Gen are taught to be BAMF ninjas and break off the worst of their character traits (ie Hana's misandy, Gokudera's Issues since he's taken in early enough, Hibari's disdain for everyone/thing(I love him but I would hate/fear him if I ever met him)). The idea of Clouds being Pack Animals became crystal clear to me in this. Through Kakashi's Summons, of all things. But so many subtle HCs that I had subconsciously thought but never articulated about both Fandoms were spelled out so clearly, it was amazing.

Once again, the recs are:

Black Sky by Umei no Mai

Hidden Sky by Sefiru

Karmic Balance by Sanjuno

!!!!

[phosphorus-12]

Wakfu AU Chapter 3

Yugo panicked, thinking he’d been found. He opened his mouth, not entirely sure what would come out when the person put their finger to their lips and shushed him.

“Shut up, you’re gonna get me caught,” the person hissed. They were a head shorter than him and had a mask covering their face. It looked like a skull and it had black feathers on it that fell down their back. They wore a cloak going down to just above their feet, which had no shoes.

“Who are you???” Yugo was confused. “What are you doing in here?”

The person lifted their mask. It was a little Osamodas girl who looked about six. She had pink hair and an indignant look on her face.

“I don’t think you need to know that.” She turned up her nose at him, looking at him like all little kids do when they thought they knew more than him. Grougal often had that look and while Yugo never appreciated it, and he could usually handle it. But now, he was reaching the end of his rope. “You don’t look like you think at all.” He internally facepalmed. He was talking to a six-year-old like this? What happened to being mature?

Then the girl snickered. She obviously wasn’t phased. That’s new. Whenever kids in his village talked to their little siblings like that there was crying and whining, or biting in Grougal’s case. Adamai used to get really impatient with the younger dragon. Sarcasm never really helped.

“I’m Coqueline,” she said, holding her hand out. “I’m here to free these animals. You?”

“Yugo.” He shook her hand. “Me too.”

“Wanna help me?” She offered.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, so we start by unlocking this…”

They worked in total silence, any noise that their clothes or the cages made concealed by the roaring laughter and loud thunder outside. As they worked, Coqueline whispered to the animals to stay put until she said so, and they listened. Yugo thought that this was incredible. When the rain slowed to a stop, the sky was still closed by rain. The men had gone to sleep a while ago and now started waking up. The cages had all been unlocked and the animals unshackled. The doors were still closed so that the trappers wouldn’t get suspicious.

The two snuck out of the cave and waited in some nearby trees. The men took the cages out of the cave and put them on the ground in the clearing just outside the entrance to the cave. Now that it was lighter out, while admittedly still being gray, Yugo could finally see around them.

The forest extended as far as the eye could see. There was a river nearby that fell off of a cliff that he somehow hadn’t seen. The ground next to it looked pretty unstable, though. He needed to avoid that.

Yugo wondered where they were going to put all the cages. A tall one took out a Haven bag. Smart choice. Made sense.

Coqueline got ready to whistle. The animals would stampede and then they would incapacitate the trappers while the creatures fled.

One… Two… Thr-

And the clearing burst into flames.

<<First/ <Previous/ Next>

[juudaimes-true-form]

In case you don't get other asks sent in, I really wanna see your anyways to all those for the KHR Ask Game! 💕✨

hi!! Thanks for stopping by! I was holding onto this until I was sure there weren’t going to be any new asks!!

🔥What would be your Flame type? Personally, I’ve always resonated with Storm.

🌈Who's your favourite Arcobaleno? I hold a special place for Skull (it’s lowkey his fault I found this show 😭) but I don’t have a fav! I like them all pretty equally!

💘This character could step on you and you would thank them Lussaria 🥰

⚰️Your go to way of getting rid of a body answered [here]

📕Which languages would you learn to become one step closer to Varia Quality? 1) Igbo <- I can hear it but not anything else 2) Korean <- I know like the basic basics of its grammar 3) Italian <- obviously 4) Japanese <- obvvies 5) Spanish <- rn I know enough to stumble through a simple conversation 6) Yoruba <- West African languages are fun 🤷‍♀️

🍽️You got into a Food Fight Vongola Style! What type of food are you going to throw at people? Bonus question: Who are you aiming at? Okra soup. It’s sticky and will absolutely ruin whoever it lands on >:D I’d be throwing it at Verde because his white coat needs to look less pristine. Will I eventually regret this? Yes. Right now? No, it’s most hilarious thing I’ve ever done.

🗡️Your weapon of choice in a life and death battle? A ring blade disguised as a hula hoop. It’s an idea I’ve been toying with, but basically, there'd be a mechanism to reveal the metal part as an outer ring and a retraction mechanism to make it regular hula hoop!

i think it could be pretty versatile. 👍

🏫Congrats! You were named heir of some rando Mafia Family! Who would you want as a tutor to prepare yourself for the new job? Fon! He’s patient and calculating, I’m sure I could learn a thing or two from him without as much trouble as any of the others would give me 👍

🎶You're on a roadtrip with the Varia. Who would you trust with the music selection for the entire trip?

also lussaria. he has music i'd like, probably.

😺*BAM* You've been Checkerfaced and are now an Acrobaleno. What's your animal companion?

SQUIRREL! the ones with red fur. like this vv (below)

[miketownsends]

i found blaseball in season 3.

the very end of season 3, and i remember i only found it because one of the NITW creators tweeted something along the lines of “ok i’ll bite what’s blaseball” and i went “what IS blaseball?” and i Googled it and suddenly there i was

i picked the Garages because i always have been and always will be a Seattlite at heart - i remember briefly deliberating over the Tacos (who were just the LA Tacos at the time!) and a couple other teams, but the Seattle pull was too strong

i remember that i joined either very late on Saturday or very early on Sunday - it was post the s3 finals because i remember seeing the Tigers as the s3 champions, but it was pre-election because i remember casting my lone vote for Eat the Rich

but this was RIGHT before the first siesta, and i had no idea what the timeline of a season looked like, and i went “well i guess i’ll check back in later” and then basically completely forgot about it for the next couple weeks and might’ve forgotten forever if i hadn’t seen another tweet from someone when it came back.

i remember watching my very first game on the bus to work. i think i must’ve missed the first day of games, i think it must’ve been a Tuesday, because i caught the bus at like 7am and i remember seasons not starting until 8am on Mondays. i watched the Garages play the Crabs (Garages lost). i remember falling in love with Avila Guzman and Allison Abbott and Malik Destiny (pre-catboyification!) based on nothing but vibes because i didn’t know anything about blaseball lore, i didn’t even know blaseball HAD lore. i think i found the Discord later that day, and i remember the Avila-Farrell feedback happening right around the time i joined the Discord.

i got my best friend into it at the same time and it turned into a hyperfixation for both of us. i remember sitting in their living room watching the finals for s4 while our partners sat by slightly befuddled by this thing that had suddenly taken over our lives.

i moved a couple hours away for grad school at the beginning of Sept 2020 and it was possibly the most miserable time of my life. i was lucky enough to be with family at least, but i was away from my now-husband and because of COVID everything was online and i am NOT a person who does well with online courses - when i had applied in fall of 2019 i had obviously assumed everything would be in-person. i had multiple meltdowns the first few months and blaseball was often the only bright spot.

the Jaylen necromancy, oh man. i remember when i first started looking up our lore and went “i missed out on a player named Jaylen Hotdogfingers????” she loomed so large over the Garages those first few seasons. her death kind of set the tone for us, especially as we kept losing players - every team wanted to fight the gods, but it felt so viscerally PERSONAL. and then one day i opened the website and saw her on the idol board with the little flaming skull next to her name.

i cannot even begin to describe the chaos i walked into when i opened the Discord and went to the Garages channel. it was just something you had to be there for. i was IMMEDIATELY team necromancy, because what was blaseball all about if not slamming big red buttons? and i figured if we didn’t, someone else would, so it might as well be us. a lot of folks felt the same. some didn’t. my mom called me at one point and asked me why i was talking about necromancy on Twitter. the Garages, obviously, decided to go for it. we had to try.

and at the same time, the Garages, somehow, were finally becoming a decent team. we made the playoffs for the first time in season 6. Jaylen’s final words, as per lore, were “we’ve just gotta make it to the playoffs.” we swept the Pies and Tigers - both former 2 time champions - to get to the finals. Mike Townsend, he who lived always in Jaylen’s shadow, threw out the first pitch of the first game of the finals. the Crabs swept us but we didn’t care. we had made it to the playoffs. we could do ANYTHING. we could bring our star pitcher back. and we did.

god, i’m just telling stories now, but to be fair blaseball is nothing BUT stories. i remember i spent a lot of that weekend in bed sleeping and crying because i was so depressed, but i pulled myself out of it enough to watch the election results roll in. to see Jaylen come home. to see Mike truly relegated to Jaylen’s shadow.

on Ruby Tuesday i was busy trying to unpack my room with my mom’s help. i took a break to check in on blaseball. games weren’t running even though they should’ve been. i scrolled through the game feed until i hit the Tigers-Moist Talkers game and realized just what we’d done, what Jaylen’s debt truly meant.

i didn’t always remember to watch the playoffs if the Garages weren’t in them, but i was watching when the Shoe Thieves reverse-swept the Crabs and were launched into a boss battle. Jaylen pitching against the puppets of a God. (the results of the Snackrifice.)

i cried when Jaylen went back to the Hall, even though i was sure her story wasn’t done. (and it wasn’t.)

the s11 finals between the Beams and Garages was one of the most emotionally draining things i’ve ever been through. we KNEW the Beams had us beat but the Sun 2/Black Hole shenanigans kept us holding on. i cried when we finally lost. and then the Keepers opened up the eternal concert in the Discord, and for hours there were hundreds of us packed in there, listening to Garages songs that sounded like you were hearing them played at a dive bar down the street because the quality was so bad and “singing” along, and eventually Get Normal came up, and everyone had been waiting for it, and. i don’t know. god, i cried so much. something about that moment of connection. something about the closest to a concert i’d experienced in a year. something about knowing it was the literal end of an era.

i don’t even know where to start with expansion. yeah it was an exhausting mess. my hyperfixation fucking LOVED it. i may have to do an expansion era retrospective/ramble separately because this is already too damn long, and expansion was SO much. for now i’ll just say that i will carry the way the Garages handled the final season of expansion with me for the rest of my life. it was so… poignant. watching us cling to our philosophy of “the Garage is always open” even though we KNEW we were inviting our own potential destruction through the door. choosing containment because we refused to save ourselves at the expense of the league but we could at least make sure the damage started and ended with us. making a beeline for the Hall because at the end of it we just wanted to go see our friends one more time.

i’ve mentioned this before, but when we melted the Coin i was at a minor league baseball game. it was the first game i had been to in probably four or five years and it was the first time i can remember actively CARING about baseball as an adult. i work for that minor league team now and i absolutely would not be doing that if not for blaseball.

god. i’m so, so sad. i will miss blaseball for the rest of my life. what a weird little piece of the internet i was blessed to partake in.

[webbedphantom]

Art Poll

I'm still planning to do replies, but I've got the hankering to draw something again, specifically the costumes of some of Aaron's other teammates, since I've only done Makoto and Futaba so far.

So, here's the poll. More details will be below

Let's break down what my plan is, and what each option means;

The Plan

Since it's been a little bit since I've done one of these, I'm planning to start by editing a piece of official art to sort of conceptualize the design so I have something to work off of. This'll be much harder for option 4, but I'm sure I'll figure something out.

Then once I've got that done, I'll try to an actual bit of art work for 'em, which will obviously take a lot longer, and probably won't be done until after I get back from my sister's wedding, but I wanna get the process started while I'm in the mood for it.

#1: Ryuji - Electro

This one I don't think needs much explanation. Just gonna be a mix of Skull and Electro, taking some elements from Static from DC and his Third Persona William (probably more so in the actual art as that'll be tough to edit in). Definitely gonna try to fit the classic Electro mask in, and maybe make some other tweaks like turning the spine on his back into a sorta... power meter/magnetic weapon holster for his melee weapon, which I wanna turn into a mix between a spiked bat and a tesla coil but we'll see.

#2: Ann - Black Cat/Firestar

This one has been on the backburner for a while, and something I've been dying to make. Basically, similar to Sumi (and a lot of the cast actually), Ann will have two costumes. The first being a more traditional Black Cat look from before she awoke to her Persona (albeit less revealing, since she chooses to wear this unlike her Phantom Thief attire), while the second, and the one I'd be designing here, mixes that with her Panther outfit as well as elements of the mutant hero Firestar. Picturing a black and vibrant pink look, with the fur accents that are a staple of Black Cat being made to look more like flames. It'll be a bit of a challenge, but it's one I'm excited to do!

#3: Sumi - First Outfit - Spider-Woman

The first thing you might be wondering is "Why does Sumi get two outfits?" The answer to that is, I've been seeing a lot of fan stuff where she gets a new, more original design after coming to terms with her identity, as a way to set herself apart (and also make Violet actually violet) which I really like.

Sumire's powers are closer to Silk, except she is entirely reliant on webbing, and can't even stick to walls without coating her hands in the stuff. Despite that, her first costume, much like her look in game is very clearly inspired by Aaron's. She wants to be more like him, and tries to emulate how he does things, even if her powers don't work the same, and her costume reflects that.

It's a more of a mix of Violet's outfit and Aaron's Phantom Spider look, but with elements of various Spider-Women designs (namely Jessica Drew and 1610's second Black Widow) to make it stand out a bit more

#4: Sumi - Second Outfit - Silk

This one is going to be the hardest to conceptualize, but I definitely want to try because I think this could look really cool.

The basic idea is to do Silk, but with more of a focus on white and vibrant purples, while incorporating elements of her first costume and leaning more into the gymnast side of her with maybe like her sash, adding in slippers like Ghost Spider, stuff like that. She's not Aaron, she's not her sister, she is herself, and this outfit will do its best to stand apart from them, hence the main color being white.

I honestly don't have a solid design in my head for this unlike the other three, but it's one I think would be fun to make regardless.

[nemorialex]

The 25th June 13th

Today should have been horrible. It always was. Even if it was a “good” day, Alex’s fear, anxiety, and trauma came to tear at them, like wolves and flame to flesh… 10 years ago that was a literal statement.

That being said… Today was…

Today was good. 

Naturally, Frenchie spent the day with them. Alex probably wouldn’t survive the ordeal without him. He brought along Casey, who showed off new skirts and pelted her papa with beanbags. If there was ever a time where he earned that beautiful blue diamond badge and the title of “Moirail” it was now. A solid rock, a warm presence, and he did a damn good job of keeping them from spiraling.

Another reason for their good mood was declaring today a “baking” day. Eight pies (later totaling out to eleven) were made and sent out to friends and family. Shopping at the local consort market, out in the fresh air and bustling crowd of bubbles and chirps, provided clarity. Folding dough and measuring fillings and pipping out whipped cream took concentration that kept even their attention deficit mind occupied. They had even tried their hand at a couple of new creations! 

Dinner was also a success (when it had no right to be.) Frenchie looked amazing in his sky blue and cloudy suit, of course, and Dirk looked pretty ridiculous in a sleeveless tux. The bastard even used his new “accessory” of their sharp tooth as a tie pin, front and center. Taunting. But they weren’t going to get into that sort of fight tonight, Alex was going to keep their own dark blue suit and green tie clean of a scuffle. The restaurant that Frenchie worked at was a nicer place, but nothing RIDICULOUS like $500 garnishes or whatever; it was a good middle ground between dressing up and stressing out, and having been there a few times it familiar territory. 

Dirk gave them a gift. A piece of metal on a necklace in the shape of a tooth (bastard…) and decorated with moving, clicking, shifting parts… Something to play with? Something to solve? He also paid the check. 

After dinner, Alex went back to the boy’s home to spend the rest of the night there. Preferably cuddled up in an obscene number of pillows/blankets/plush while watching comfort movies until they fell asleep. Casey and Deb were dropped off earlier and by now they were tucked in. Or at least, they were off in a room with the door closed and pretending to be asleep. 

Before Alex could reach the cuddle pile, Zack caught them. With a jerk of the head, he lead his sibling outside to the balcony. 

“So… good day?”

“Actually…” Alex ducked their head and lowered their voice, as if some cosmic being would hear them. “Yeah… It was.”

“Cool. Good…” He nodded and looked out at the colorful dusk sky, studying those suddenly fascinating milky clouds. The silence stretched for a moment, just long enough to get a taste of the Awkward it would turn into when Zack spoke up again. 

“Obviously, I know you’re not into today.” He shrugged his shoulders in defense. “And I’m cool with that. Obviously.” 

“Obviously.” They echoed with a nod, a teasing smile playing at their lips.

“Shut up. Point is… Feels wrong to just. Let this one slide completely, y’know? It’s a milestone after all...”

“Milestone.” This echo was less teasing. It lingered as Alex collected the pieces implied. “Wait, is it?” 

“Yeah.” He looked back at them now, a teasing smile on his lips now. “You’re twenty five today, dude.” 

Alex sucked a tight breath through their teeth. Now it was their turn to see what was so fascinating about those clouds. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know their own age (and temporarily getting the dates mixed up did NOT count!) but the connections in meaning- the significance- was still there. He might as well strap a party hat to their skull and start blowing a noise maker.

Zack sighed. 

“Listen. It’s not even about today, okay? Forget about that. This is about you. You’re still my sibling. My little sister. You deserve… I dunno, something, right? Sum’in special. Lets just say it’s for the hell of it, even though making it to twenty five goddamned years with how batshit insane you are is a miracle in and of itself.” 

There was a nudge on their arm and Alex looked down at the small black box in his hand, then up at his face. He was pudgy. Not fat, per say, but his cheeks and chin were more rounded out and peachy and stubbled and healthy than- What mental picture were they trying to compare him to, here? When he was a rounder kid? When he was a re-discovered gaunt teen? When he was a muscular-by-survival young adult? Zack had called Alex his little sister. It wasn’t a forgotten slip-up, and it wasn’t out of malice. He was invoking a time long ago, built on a singularity between two, full of trust and love and defense. It felt… Okay, in this context and this instance. They understood the many, many words buried beneath the one.

Alex stared at him a moment longer as their hand slowly reached out and took the gift. A jewelry box, with a stiff and creaky hinge at the back. Inside was a clear crystal, only a couple of centimeters in diameter and completely spherical aside from the teardrop tail that connected it to a silver chain. While the outside was smooth, the inside was marred with cracks and beautiful imperfections. When Alex lifted it out of the box, those cracks within caught the last rays of sunlight and split it into a rainbow of refracted light.

“So get this, the store names each piece of jewelry, right? ‘Parently, this one’s called “Haven’s Tear.” It’s like, basically a solid fucking diamond, but. You know. Not from Earth. Think it’s got a different chemical makeup or something? Super rare, and I’m not telling you the price because you’ll shit your pants and then kill me.” 

His chuckles died at the lack of a response. Zack stayed quiet, even though they could tell he had a lot more to say. Alex looked up at him and- Wow, when did the world suddenly become wobbly and waterlogged? All at once, a hiccuping sob bubbled up out of them, those built-up tears spilling over. It was stupid! And spontaneous and weak and pointless and-!!! 

And it was a really sweet gift. With sentiment put behind it. With a little speech and a history (Zack had more to say, and Alex could see the little slip of informational paper just inside the cushioning of the box) Also it was at the end of a really, really stressful day that somehow turned out to be wonderful and–

“Thanks…” Their voice was wobbly. 

“No problem. May I?” Thankfully, Zack knew when to tone down the dramatics, but he was still being cheeky. He practically bowed and held out a hand to take their gift back. He carefully draped the chain around the front of his sibling’s heck and redid the clasp behind them, away from any loose hairs. After spinning them around by the shoulders to get a good look (the perfect fit, if he did say so himself) he closed the rest of the gap in a tight hug. Alex clung to his shirt, sniffling. 

“... You know I want to say it, right?”

Alex sniffled extra hard and gave him a wet laugh.

“Fine… Go ahead…”

He squeezed them tighter, and spoke quietly. 

“Happy birthday, Alex.”

[seeking-elsewhither]

DONE WITH NEWSPAPER FOR THE CHESTERTON CHALLENGE AHHHHH

Obviously had to write this in Project Moriarty. I gave it my best and I'm pretty glad I got to capture their personalities well (I wish I wrote more of Hawthorne, but that would take even longer).

Please ignore the accuracy of events and the names (placeholders as always). I hope late submissions are accepted! Tagging @inklings-challenge

Thank you for taking the time to read it!

At the Library

“What-ho, Beckham! And is that me lad Eddie?” came Docherty’s cheerful cry from across the room when she and Eddie Thompson stepped into its warmth. A chorus of “Docherty!” “Hush, boy!” “Shh!” followed soon after, and he ducked his head just in time to dodge Rutherford’s hurtling great-coat. Being the sole occupants of the library so late at night did not mean its rules were to be subverted.

Hunter told Docherty as much, thumping his head with her book for good measure, making young Eddie giggle. “You ought to have gotten it into that thick skull of yours by now!”

“Apologies, but do you have to torment me so?”

“Perhaps,” came the Professor’s sharp voice from behind his towers of books. “Or at the very least until you can remember the most prominent wisdom of life: that silence is golden.”

“And speech is silver,” said Dayle, ever in favour of his oldest friend.

“Refined speech is silver, Dayle,” said the Professor peering over his glasses. “Speech that has been tried in the flames and found pure.”

A sly grin takes over Rutherford’s placant face. There is a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Erudite as always, eh Professor?”

“It would not do to be otherwise.”

“But, Professor, dare I say that is word-play you have employed?”

The Professor makes a little huff of consternation. “I believe if you are to study a language, you must be prepared to employ its madness every now and then whether it pleases you or not. Now, I do believe Beckham and Master Thompson have got our papers.” He stared at them pointedly.

And indeed was a pile of newspapers stacked in Eddie’s arms. A satchel was slung along Beckham’s shoulder and she was balancing a stack of books with her newspaper atop them.

“Here you are, sirs,” said Eddie as he passed along the pile of newspapers to Hawthorne, being the closest. “And madam.” With an illustrious bow, he presented Hunter her paper, earning him a good-natured roll of her laughing eyes.

“What?!” The shout startled all of them, and as one they turned to Kirke, who sat staring with such ferocity at the front page, Beckham was afraid it would burn to ashes. “How on God’s green earth did Cartwright get gold in freestyle?”

Looking down at her page, a large photograph of Cartwright partly emerging from the water mid-stroke, gasping for air, was placed under the headline of “CAPTAIN OF THE FOOTBALL TEAM TAKES LIKE A DUCK TO THE WATER”. Beckham had seen the article already on the way back from the office, but it seemed as surreal as when she had first read it.

Noises of outrage and disbelief echoed across the chamber.

“This has to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever read!” said Hunter with all her righteous fury, being the first among them to articulate her anger. “We all saw Bjornsson reach first. If it’s anyone who should win, it’s him!”

“Now if it had been backstroke, it might’ve been alright,” stated Dayle. “Bjornsson reached at least five seconds too late.”

Docherty nodded. “Aye, but this was freestyle. And there oughtn’t be any doubt of who won.”

“Perhaps it’s a misprint,” murmured Hawthorne doubtfully, but Rutherford scoffed.

“When Lawson’s the editor of the college paper? You’d sooner see a crow turn white right in front of you.”

“It is rather odd when you all speak as if I’m not in the room at all.” Bjornsson walked into the room, a bemused smile pulling his mouth, carrying a teapot.

Hunter clapped her hands excitedly. “We’ve summoned a Bjornsson! And he’s come with tea!”

“Will you have some, my Lady? I cannot promise that no charm lies over it; you must drink at your own risk.” Hunter lifted the lid of the proffered teapot and sniffed its contents.

“Hmm,” said she, surveying Bjornsson’s gallant face with narrowed eyes, “Yes, I do believe I will have some tea.”

“As shall I,” claimed Beckham, picking up a teacup.

Eddie followed suite. “And I, sir!”

Chuckling, Hawthorne said, “Don’t forget the rest of us, Bjornsson.”

When at last he had poured everyone a cup of tea and settled down to have sips of his own, the topic of his loss to Cartwright was brought up once more. But Bjornsson did not seem dismayed by the news.

“I am hardly surprised. Cartwright did mention something about getting what I deserved, in an attempt to frighten me, I think. I believe I remember the whistle being blown a few moments after I’d reached the end, but I had chalked it up to it being my imagination at the time.” A brilliant smile overcame his pensive face, lighting the room like a star. “In any matter, I’ve beat my own personal record by a total seven seconds, so Cartwright’s gold doesn’t irk me as much as it ought to. And I’m still on the podium.”

Rutherford laughed merrily. “Ah, Bjornsson! Would that more of us were like you.”

A look of affected horror overcame the man’s face. “I do believe my parents would quite disagree there with you, Rutherford.”

“Hmpf! I’ll second that,” said the Professor, the newspaper rattling as he turned its leaves. “One Sebastian Bjornsson is enough for this world. No more, I say! Lest the world be replete with witticisms.”

“Speaking of which,” began Rutherford, a mad smile upon his face as he gave the Professor an evil look. The Professor exclaimed in his attempt to silence the boy, and Hunter shot Beckham a long, knowing glance.

Eddie, spent and worn, sat sleeping in a deep armchair beside Beckham, snoring softly with his hands folded over his chest and his bunnet over his upturned face. Bjornsson and Hawthorne watched with great amusement as Rutherford stoked the Professor’s perturbation. Docherty and Dayle, in heated, hushed, excited tones murmured and squeaked to each other as they went through the papers.

Leaning forward, Beckham poured herself and Hunter some tea, and they clinked their glasses in solidarity. This was going to be a long night.