#all three of them are gonna be wondering what kind of snacks are gonna be at the featherington family meetings

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[recreationalfanfics]

"What A Beautiful Family!"

In which you get confused for being a family

Rengoku:

- It happens during a trip to the store in town with his little brother. Maybe it was to restock groceries or maybe it was buying supplies for his next demon conquest, either way: all three of you went down to visit.

- Rengoku smiled softly at you as he watched you with his little brother, holding his hand and laughing with Senjuro and occasionally lifting him up and spinning around.

- At some point during the walk, Senjuro pointed at some birds flying in the tree and begged Kyojuro for a closer look, which Kyojuro happily allowed him to do and put him on his shoulders with a big smile. You helped Senjuro steady himself and laughed at how precious the two looked.

- As Senjuro and Kyojuro debated about what kind of birds they were, you couldn't help but look at Kyojuro with nothing less than love in your eyes and a fond smile.

- "Aw, how precious!" a woman walking past with a basket filled with baked goods cooed at you three, "I'm glad even with demons terrorizing us, people can still have moments like this. Here, have some!"

- At first you tried to decline out of embarrassment but Kyojuro humbly took them and gave one to Kyojuro and handed a pastry to you. You were hesitant but then you took it and graciously thanked the lady, "but also, I feel bad for not paying for these, ma'am. Please, let me-"

- "Don't you worry about it. A beautiful family like you should enjoy a good snack on such a lovely day, especially since your husband's a hashira."

- Rengoku opened his mouth to let out a hearty "TASTY!" but stopped himself halfway when he heard that. You just stared at the lady in flustered shock as she bowed her head and walked away.

- You and Kyojuro shared a look with each other, Kyojuro giving you a nervous yet wide grin and you returned it. Both of your faces felt warm and you were barely able to hold eye contact with each other.

- "Haha, that lady thought you were (Y/n)'s husband! Isn't that funny, big brother?" and Rengoku's gaze softens as you become timid and look down at your feet, "Yes...I suppose it is, Kyojuro."

Tengen:

- You were walking with Tengen and his wives, happy to see him a bit more after his retirement, when you stumbled upon three neighboring children, who played too roughly and were crying their eyes out about it.

- You and Hinatsuru helped them while Suma tried not to cry with the two boys but offered to help and Makio awkwardly tried to calm them down. Tengen just squatted down and told them that it wasn't very flashy to cry, which made you and Hina elbow him.

- Instead of getting more upset, however, all three boys became excited and seemed to recgonize Tengen, asking him if he was the sound Hashira, which seemed to greatly inflate his ego as he said: "Yes but I am also the God of Festivals!"/ "WOW! REALLY!?"

- You and his wives exchanged glances knowing he wouldn't shut up. When they asked if he could tell him a story of the demons he fought, he tried to be all: "Oh, it might be too scary for you kids...BUT WHAT THE HECK- So I was in the Entertainment District which is filled with prost-"/ "UZUI."/ "IT'S IMPORTANT TO THE STORY."

- Anyways, after some censoring, each boy found a home in your lap, Suma's lap, and another sat on Hinatsuru's but leaned their head on Makio's arm. All of you entranced by Tengen's storytelling and prescence.

- "Haha, such an energetic father. Those boys are definetly gonna grow up strong!"/ "I wonder which of those women are his wife?"/ "From the way they're looking at him, all four, probably."

- Tengen's voice suddenly stopped, most likely because he heard what they said, but instead of correcting him, his eyes landed on you. You could feel Hina's, Suma's, and Makio's gaze on you as well and you felt timid...but not uncomfortable. His lips upturned into a smirk and you felt yourself trying to look at ANYWHERE but the attractive faces that were staring at you.

- "Well, what happened next!?" One of the boys demanded, impatient from the cliff hanger.

- "Huh- Oh, right! Anyways, this demon CAME OUT and he was UGLY. Absolutely hideous, like a monster that crawled from under your bed-"

- When the boys finally were called home, you all waved goodbye and parted ways. Leaving you alone with the retired Hashira and his wives, you didn't say anything but the energy felt different as Suma clung to your arm and Tengen walked closer to you, Makio's eyes would stray towards you but timidly look away when you caught her gaze as Hina wished this walk would last forever. Just the five of you.

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim drake triplet au owns my soul I’m not gonna lie

Have some more ✨

——

Moral and ethical crises aside, having three Robins increased the crime fighting rate exponentially. Crooks could not do even a mildly villainous scheme without being cheerfully beaten down (Lionel), robbed blind (Tim), and having their operations permanently crippled (Archy). At this point, the only reason the Rogues were still alive was because Batman insisted on handling them.

“There’s a weird ship coming into Gotham bay~!” Lionel sang, skipping into the room with an armful of papers. Alfred sedately followed behind him, with a plate full of snacks and milk. He had been passive aggressive in feeding them, muttering something about making up for lost time.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Tim mumbled, grabbing a snack. One hand was doing case work, the other (the hand that grabbed a snack) was doing homework. “Yeah, I clocked that. Some pretty interesting people on it.”

“Once again, Bruce’s old flings haunt our doorstep.” Archy crossed the room and plucked some of the papers off of Lionel.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. People are gonna come flocking to his gates with the fake baby traps again at the end of the social season.” Tim grimaced, remembering all the cheek pinches he endured last season as he headed off anyone that would approach Bruce in his Brucie persona.

“Talia al Ghul is a different kind of issue.”

“I’d take fist fighting her over Mrs. Laughfy’s pinching any day.”

“Gee, I kind of want to meet Talia. She seems kind of badass.” Lionel plopped down onto his seat, dumping the rest of the papers onto the table. “Dick hates her though. Oh, Archy, here’s all of the paperwork from that shady chemical plant.”

“Thanks.” Archy went back to the drawing board, drafting up a complicated corporate scheme that ended up with Drake industries acquiring said shady chemical plants. They were planning the reveal of the Drake triplets soon, but their method had much to be planned.

As a matter of fact…

“As expected,” Archy scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Our best bet is to pretend we were always there.”

“Gaslight, gatekeep, girl-boss!”

The triplets nodded and moved on, Archy forging their birth certificates.

Idle conversation started up again, rotating between their upcoming gaslight gatekeep girl boss masterplan, Talia’s arrival, and whether or not they should dye Jason’s hair bright purple.

“I wonder why she came? She got on the ship with a… kid.” Tim stilled, dawning horror and realization settling upon his face. “No way.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s juicy.” Lionel grinned like a bat fresh out of hell.

“We need more information.” Archy set aside his papers, an indication of intense focus from him.

The door clicked open and three heads swung in unison.

“Hey, guys, what are you…” Dick faltered as three sets of piercing blue eyes locked onto him. “Uh. Something wrong?”

Lionel dove at the door, shutting it closed and locking it.

Tim sprung up and clamped a hand onto Dick’s wrist. His smile became eerily polite. “Dick! We had a couple of questions for you!”

Dick glanced down at him, back at Lionel, and then forward at Archy’s widening grin. He shuddered.

“Am I about to die?” He wondered out loud, resigning himself to his fate as his baby-birds dragged him over to their war table.

——

“You didn’t know about me.”

“…No.”

“But we did!” Damian startled, unsheathing his sword in record time and swinging an arc of deadly blades towards the voice.

“Heya! I’m Robin!”

“I am also Robin.” Damian sidled back and looked up, weapon at the ready. Two identical Robins perched on the flickering street lamps, tilting their heads down at him.

“Hey, Damian. I’m Robin.” The one on the left waves.

“Boys,” his father sighed.

“Can it, B. I can’t believe you did the horizontal tango with Talia, of all people.”

Damian bristled. “You would not be worth the ground mother walks upon, you ingrate!”

The three robins looked at each other and simultaneously looked back at Damian. “Oh, we like you. Yes, you’re about to be our new favorite brother.”

Damian didn’t know whether to lunge at them or be flattered.

“C’mon, Wayne junior. We’ll show you around. Pick an alias, one you can use before we train you to be Robin.”

“I… I will fight you! Robin is mine by right! I am father’s blood son!”

One of the Robins perched on top of the lamp post grinned, half feral as he swung down. “We’d like to see you try, little bird.”

“Stop antagonizing him. Damian, you’ll become Robin eventually, but the only way is to get acknowledged by the former Robins. There’s so much more to becoming Robin than being good at combat like you are.”

“We’ll teach you! Robin lesson number one! Annoy B with competence!” The cheery Robin cheered.

“No.”

They ignored Batman. Damian, after checking his father’s face and not finding anything other than exhaustion, followed their example hesitantly.

“Here, take this grapple.” The serious Robin handed him a grapple and a domino mask. “Second lesson, Robins fly through the sky. We can stalk, sure, but we fly better than anyone else.”

Damian glanced at Batman again, before taking the grapple. In unison, the Robins shot up and away.

“Let’s go, Damian. We shouldn’t leave them unsupervised.”

“They are not competent enough to patrol alone?”

Father grimaced. “They are. But if we leave them be, they’ll take over Gotham in a matter of weeks.”

Damian’s respect towards the Robins went up a couple of notches. He put on the domino and grappled after the Robins.

When they find Joker goons transporting goods, the third Robin (Timothy, he found out later) turned to him and smirked.

“Third lesson? The punishment has to fit the crime. Those are stolen goods. So we rob them blind.”

“Those goods are evidence, Robin,” Father rumbled. Damian tensed, but the Robins remained relaxed.

“Okay, so we don’t touch the evidence, but everything else is fair game. Wallets, keys, lightbulbs.”

“That is incredibly petty,” Damian snapped.

“Well, B said we can’t murder them and maiming someone for stealing is too much. So, petty we must be, to refrain from going off the deep end.”

Damian considered tossing them off the roof, but these infernal fools would probably laugh and return to the roofs like cockroaches.

——

Damian watched the carnage in awe. The Robins were incredibly efficient and effective, drawing terror from their victims even before even commencing a beat down.

“I will accept their guidance,” Damian muttered to himself.

Behind him Batman lowered his head into hands in a moment of weakness. He prayed to allah and his parents for patience… and sanity.

——

“Jaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyysonnnnnnn!”

“Oh, fuck no!” Jason shot out rubber bullets without hesitation. “Fuck off, you demon!”

“But don’t you want to meet our youngest brother?”

Jason lowered his guns, glaring at Lionel’s chirpy face. “What? I’ve already met Tim.”

“Nope! Apparently, Bruce had a kid with, I shit you not, Talia al Ghul!”

Jason holstered his guns, interested in any mockery aimed at Bruce. “No way. You’re lying.”

“Nope! Meet Damian!”

Behind Lionel, Bruce’s mini-me stepped out. “Todd.”

Jason straightened and stepped closer, though noticeably giving Lionel a wide berth. He was never going to let the old man live this down. And from the looks of it, he had allies in the form of the three terrors.

——

Bruce looked down at the cake. He looked back up.

On one hand, his kids were getting along.

On the other hand… he was getting bullied by his kids.

Bruce heard a low chuckle.

Scratch that, he was being unjustly bullied by his kids and Alfred.

In front of the exhausted dad of six (and future dad of so many more), sat a cake with the words “congrats, it’s a boy!” and a picture of Talia.

[training4theapocalypse]

Thirsty (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Mutual pining, Romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Dubious consent (they are both kind of drunk), Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: Your job restocking vending machines takes you to businesses all over Evergreen - including Fennel Fields where the cute busboy keeps making eyes at you. (Based on this ask by @kpopgirlbtssvt)

A/N: There’s a part where Adrian picks the reader up over his shoulder but he is a very strong boi, I am confident he could shoulder carry any thirsty MF. PS My toxic trait is that I slip a reference to Scotland in literally everything I write.

Masterlist

Tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982,

Chapter text:

The muscles in your forearms ache as you drag your hand cart, stacked with cases of soda and water, up the ramp at the back of Fennel Fields. 

You wheel your final delivery of the day straight into their break room, as usual, and park your cart beside the vending machine, ready to start your restock. You’re greeted amicably by the staff, who know you well enough that they’re not surprised to see you. 

But one particularly familiar face spots you from across the room and practically leaps off his chair. Adrian Chase looks forward to your weekly trip to Fennel Fields, and today he can’t help but notice the glow on your face from hauling your delivery. He wonders what else makes your face glow like that. He bets he could.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, and he blinks at you as if snapping out of something.

“Stranger? It’s me, Adrian.”

You grin. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not but either way, you find it sort of cute. And, yes, Taylor warned you to stop flirting with the hot but kind of dorky busboy because he’s gonna end up catching feelings, but there’s something fun about getting him all flustered and making his cheeks burn.

“I know, Adrian. I could never forget that pretty face,” you tease. He turns slightly pink. There it is. “Thirsty?” you ask.

“Yup, and wait til you see what I got you.”

This has been your routine at Fennel Fields for a few months now. You pick up some speciality soda while you’re delivering beverages across Washington and Adrian brings you something- usually a snack or anything else he thinks you might like.

“Three… two… one.” At the same time, you pull the soda out from your bag and Adrian hands you a small, blue rectangular box.

A cassette tape. Aqua- Aquarium. 

“Adrian! This is so sick- it’s so hard to find tapes these days.” You flip it over to read the tracklist. “I fucking love Barbie Girl.”

“Me too! And I noticed your Walkman, so I thought you could use some more music.” He looks down at the orange and blue soda can in his hands, reading the label. “IRN BRU?”

“This is the weirdest soda I’ve found yet. It’s like bubblegum cream soda but it burns.”

He cracks it open, takes a sip and looks confused. “I think I like it?” He takes another sip. “It’s like my mouth hates it but needs more.”

“I know, right?” You put the cassette in your bag and open the vending machine.

“Thanks for the soda.” He nods at your tired arms as you start loading in your delivery. “Sick forearm pump, by the way.”

“Uh, what?”

“Yeah! You can totally tell you’ve been working on them- they’re huge.”

You raise an eyebrow. It’s probably meant as a compliment, but you’re not sure how you feel about Adrian talking to you like you’re one of his bros at the gym. 

“I mean- not huge! Like normal. But nice. And-“

“Have you seen Taylor?” You decide to step in before he can dig this particular hole any deeper. “I need him to sign for this.”

“What’s up, Cuz?” Taylor appears from around a corner. 

You hold out your electronic POS and stylus, awaiting his signature. “Just need you to sign this, then I’m done for the night.”

“Nice!” says Adrian “You got any plans after this?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you tease him, a small balloon swells up in your chest with excitement. You’ve never been sure whether Adrian’s always so excited to see you because he likes you or if he just really likes soda. 

“Uh, me,  Adrian. Remember?”

“Hey man, what did I tell you about hitting on my cousin?” Taylor gives him a stern look. “Don’t you have a pregnant girlfriend to be worried about?”

You’re surprised, to say the least. The fact that Adrian has a girlfriend (a pregnant one at that) but he still goes out of his way to exchange gifts with you every week is kind of disappointing. It reaffirms your belief that there are no decent men in this town.

“Yes! I mean, no. We, uh, we broke up.”

“Because of the party you tried to throw her?” asks Taylor.

Aw, that’s kind of sweet.

“Uh, yeah, she did not appreciate the abortion party.”

What the fuck?

Taylor signs for the delivery and hands you back the device, giving you a meaningful look- I told you so. The balloon of excitement in your chest feels well and truly punctured.

“But I mean, I’m not hung up on her or anything. I actually dumped her.”

Yup, no decent men alright.

You and Taylor exchange glances. You can practically hear the wet raspberry of the balloon deflating completely. 

“I’d better go. Thanks for the tape, dude,” you say a little more coolly than you’d intended in your hurry to hide your dismay before wheeling your cart out of the break room.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Adrian’s voice calls from behind you, but Taylor grabs the door before he can.

“I got it, man.” 

Taylor walks with you to the van. You lean up against the cab door in exasperation. Taylor offers you a cigarette which you go to accept, but he retracts the packet.

“Nuh-uh, let’s hear it first.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “You are so full of wisdom, as always, and I will forever heed your dating advice from now until the end of time,” you concede to Taylor, snatching a cigarette. He grins and lights you both up.

“Y’know what the weird thing is? I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend.”

You exhale a puff of smoke in surprise. “What was that about then?”

“I dunno. I caught him out here celebrating one night, and he made up a weird abortion party story. I think he was really out here dancing because Peacemaker came into the restaurant-“

“Peacemaker?! Jeez, isn’t that guy in jail?”

“Musta released him. But I think Adrian was being an excited fanboy and got embarrassed when I saw him. Dude’s a serial liar- I thought he’d come clean if I asked him about it in front of you.”

You lean your head back against the van. “Where are all the decent men in Evergreen?” You lament and start rhyming off, counting on your fingers. “They’re either obsessed with capes, racists, racist capes or racists who are obsessed with capes!”

“Well, speaking of capes, it’s getting dark. You better hit the road before you run into that nutcase, Vigilante.”

“Yeah, or the escaped gorilla,” you laugh, stubbing out your cigarette. 

“Put that in the trash or you’ll end up with a bullet in your head for littering.”

“I’ve charmed my way out of worse situations. Besides, maybe he’ll be the one to sweep me off my feet.”

“Vigilante? Or the gorilla?”

“Honestly, at this point, I’d take either.”

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

The following afternoon, your delivery route sends you off down the highway. It’s not a glamorous job, stocking vending machines at different businesses all over the place, but it’s easy, and you can listen to your own music. It takes you all across this little corner of Washington, and the more you see, the more grateful you are that you get to live in this beautiful, rocky state.

Even if there isn’t a single eligible man to be found on your entire route. You still feel a little crestfallen thinking about Adrian Chase. Why was he so intent on lying to Taylor yesterday? How deep does his Peacemaker obsession go if he was that embarrassed?

You pull up to the back of the Glan Tai bottling plant on the outskirts of Evergreen, put on your headphones and turn on your Walkman. You want to keep a low profile because the clients are much weirder here than the rest- Adrian Chase excluded.

They weren’t always like this. The facilities manager at Glan Tai was a friendly old man - Clive- who let you use their bathroom, and gave you filter coffee from a polystyrene cup to ease your two-hour journey home. Until one day recently, Clive wasn’t so friendly anymore. New management, you expected.

Head down, you drag your cart through the service entrance and make your way to their storage room. Aqua blasts in your ears as you wheel your way along the corridor. There are loud bangs and the ground vibrates slightly, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary in a site with heavy machinery. 

You get to the room where they keep the IT equipment, files and vending machine and start unloading. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder and pull your headphones down around your neck.

“Oh, sorry Clive, I didn’t see you-“ 

You freeze, icy fear spreading through your veins as you find yourself face to face with - you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me - the escaped gorilla from the zoo.

You scream. Loudly.

Two people burst into the room, startling the gorilla. It backs away from you. For a second, you think they’re factory workers running to your rescue. But they slam and bolt the storage room door shut behind them.

“No! Unlock the door!”

They whip around and point their guns at you. You drop the case of water you’re holding and hold your hands up in surrender.

One of them, you recognise from the news. A man in a black and teal suit, armed to the hilt, with his face almost entirely obscured- except by a red visor covering his eyes.

It’s him. It’s Vigilante. And a blonde woman you don’t recognise. 

He lowers his gun and nudges hers away from your direction.

“Shoot her before she kills us both!” snaps the woman, irritated. 

“She’s not a butterfly,” says Vigilante, his voice muffled behind his mask. “I know her.”

He knows me? How?

“I’m just delivering water, I swear!” You beg her, looking between them. 

Just then, the gorilla appears from behind the shelves and launches the blonde woman across the room.

An involuntary yelp of shock escapes you again and the gorilla returns its attention to you. Thinking fast, you tip your cart forward, and the giant ape trips up on the cascade of cans and bottles.

“You didn’t think to tell us there was a gorilla in here?!” Comes the annoyed blonde woman’s voice from behind a broken table.

“I was preoccupied with the guns in my face!” 

The door to the storage room is blasted open and another woman bursts in, followed by none other than Peacemaker.

Adrian would lose his shit right now, you think to yourself.

Peacemaker looks at you through the eyeholes of his helmet “She’s clear, Adebayo” and the other woman lowers her gun. The gorilla gets up. “Oh shit!” says Peacemaker as it sends a swipe in your direction, sending you tumbling off your feet and onto the floor.

You cower in the corner as they fight the gorilla. Vigilante stabs it but it bats him away easily and does the same to the woman called Adebayo. Peacemaker launches himself onto the gorilla’s back but the beast throws him off onto the hard floor.

“Die, human!” 

Did that gorilla just speak? What have you gotten yourself into?

The gorilla raises its fists, ready to crush Peacemaker, when a man with an oddly patchy beard runs through the door, chainsaw in hand and proceeds to kill the gorilla, sawing it almost in half and sending blood splattering everywhere. 

A small winged creature crawls out of the dead gorilla’s mouth. The blonde woman gets to her feet and shoots it casually. What the…? Was that some kind of parasite?

The gunshot leaves your ears ringing but hearing your name whispered in your ear brings you back to reality. You blink stupidly at Vigilante, who is now crouched down inches from your face and you try to make out his eyes through the red visor. You know those eyes. But how? How does the mass murderer of Evergreen know you?

He hooks his arms under yours, lifts you to your feet and wipes the smattering of blood off your face. Your heart is racing as you continue to stare at him silently, dumbfounded. You know you should be scared of this masked man, who’s wanted on multiple counts of murder. But here he is, claiming he knows you, making sure you’re okay.

“What do we do with her?” asks the bearded man with the chainsaw. 

“Who, me?” you try and sound nonchalant. “I didn’t see anything. I’ll just get out of your beard- hair! I mean hair.” You go to put your headphones back over your ears but the blonde woman rips them off.

“Hey!” Vigilante steps between you and her. “Look, she’s cool. She says she didn’t see anything, so she didn’t”

“How do you know she’s not a butterfly?” she challenges Vigilante.

“X-ray helmet,” interjects Peacemaker. “No butterfly in that pretty little noggin.” He winks at you and Vigilante bristles, folding his arms in an irritated sort of way.

“Listen, I’ve got like four more deliveries today so…” You trail off as your body starts to go on autopilot. There’s an awkward silence as they watch you bustle around, stacking the blood-covered cases of water and soda back onto your cart.

“She’s clearly in shock,” says Adebayo, more gently than the blonde. 

“Hey, let me help you with that,” says a muffled voice from behind you.

‘Hey, let me help you with that.’

In the exact same cadence as yesterday. 

“A-Adrian?” you say hoarsely and you turn back around in time to watch Vigilante drop the case of water. “Adrian Chase?!” you repeat, your voice slightly hysterical. 

“No!” says Adrian unconvincingly but at the same time Peacemaker says:

“Godammit Vij. How does she know you?”

Adrian groans in frustration. “She delivers drinks to my job too!”

“That settles it- she’s a witness and she knows Vigilante’s identity. Adebayo, you need to end this. Don’t make her beg for her life like the other guy,” commands the blonde woman, clearly in charge of the team.

“Nonononononono,” Adrian stands in front of you with his arms folded. “No way. I am not letting you kill her.”

“That’s an order, Adebayo. Vigilante- move.”

“Wait,” says the guy with the beard. “She might actually be useful, Harcourt.”

Harcourt raises her eyebrows. “Well?”

“We’re looking for other leads, right? Other places where the butterflies are?” He looks at you. “Hey, water girl. Does this company have any other locations?”

“Y-yes,” your throat feels dry.

“Can you tell us where they are?” he asks.

“Will you let me live if I tell you?”

Everyone looks at Harcourt. She groans. “Fine. But we’re gonna need to figure out what to do with her to keep her from blabbering.”

“C’mon, she already said she was cool!” says Adrian.

“And you trust her?”

“One hundo percent.” He gives you a reassuring thumbs up.

“I wouldn’t trust his judgement,” says Peacemaker and you immediately feel faint. It must be obvious on your face because he backtracks. “No! Not that we should kill her! Definitely not. But Adrian would trust any hot girl. We can’t just let her go.”

Harcourt pinches the bridge of her nose as she thinks. 

“Vigilante,” she says finally. “I’m telling Murn that water girl is your responsibility. You’re going to keep her with you 24/7 until the mission is over. Any fuck-up, if she does or says anything that jeopardizes our objective, she’s dead and you’ll be doing black ops in Belize. Got it?”

“Cool, got it!” says Adrian enthusiastically, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this? I have a job! I have people who will be looking for me.”

“Do you want to cooperate or do you want to die?” 

“Which one do you wanna do?” asks Adrian.

If you hadn’t already figured out that Vigilante was Adrian Chase, that would have been the dead giveaway.

A few moments later, Adrian is leading you by the hand back through the factory to where your van is parked while you cover your eyes with one hand. He had suggested it after your knees almost gave way when you saw the pile of bodies at the door. And he liked that you had rejected Peacemaker’s offer to hoist you over his shoulder and carry you out.

“Oh, no… Clive,” you whisper, making the mistake of opening your eyes and seeing the old man crumpled on the floor, next to the coffee machine. You cover your eyes again.

“Watch you don’t slip in the blood here,” says Adrian gently, guiding you to side-step.

You groan. You think you might puke. 

“I can’t believe you killed all these people,” you whisper, wishing you could disassociate from this whole thing.

“We didn’t, not really- I promise. I’ll explain on the ride home.”

Harcourt instructs Adrian to drive your van, following theirs back to Evergreen. When you’re both out of earshot and in your van, Adebayo sits in the driver’s seat turning to Harcourt, Peacemaker and Economos. “Isn’t it kind of weird seeing Vigilante like this?”

“Like what?” asks Economos.

“Like, compassionate, sweet… not all hell-bent on murder?”

Peacemaker shrugs “He’s like this all the time. You should hear the way he talks about this other girl, his friend Taylor’s sister, or cousin, I think. He’s just a sucker for anyone who’s nice to him.”

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

Hours later, you’re sitting on the couch in your apartment, waiting for Adrian to finish up in the shower.

On the drive to their headquarters, Adrian had explained all about their mission and how an alien race called ‘the butterflies’ had taken over the bodies of (and, therefore, killed) all those people in the factory long before Adrian’s team had arrived.

At headquarters, you had told them everything you knew about your clients at Glan Tai and had given them the coordinates for their other delivery location- a small farm thirty miles north of the factory. Murn seemed to be satisfied with your intel and approved of Harcourt’s plan to have Adrian keep you under close surveillance. Great. 

Adrian grabbed his go-bag from his Sebring and drove the two of you in your van back to your apartment, where you immediately ran to the shower, to try and rid yourself of all the negative feelings from today.

He now appears in your living room, fresh out of the shower in a pale blue t-shirt and jeans, looking much less out of place than when he was in his full combat gear. But he still stands awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself. 

“Thirsty?” you ask him. “I’ve got wine.”

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

You find two wine glasses and place them on the coffee table. He sits on the edge of your couch. “What am I gonna do, Adrian?” You open up a bottle of red wine and start pouring. “I could barely stand seeing all that shit at the factory. Do you really think I’m gonna kill you?” You slide a glass towards him and start filling your own. 

He looks down at the wine but doesn’t touch it. You raise your glass. “To forgetting the worst day of my life.”

“The worst day of your life? Today was awesome!” He looks genuinely surprised that you’re not sharing his elation. “We killed a ton of butterflies, and now thanks to you, we know where they keep their cow.”

It’s a sentence that wouldn’t have made sense to you a few hours ago. And you hate that it does now.

“We’re saving the world,” he continues. “And you helped!”

You push his wine glass closer to him. “To saving the world, then.”

He takes a sip and screws up his face. “Do you have any beer? Ooh, or soda!”

“It’s in the van. And most of it’s covered in blood now.”

“Then this is great,” he says, a little too politely. 

“If you’re not used to it, the first glass tastes like acetone,” you tell him, draining yours. “But the second one…” You pause, pouring yourself another. “The second goes down real smooth.”

Adrian copies you and gulps down the red wine. You refill his glass, and he takes another sip.

“The second one isn’t so bad, actually.” He sounds surprised. 

You sink down on the couch next to him. “So now what?” you ask. He looks confused, so you elaborate. “What do you usually do with hostages all night?”

“You’re not a hostage!” He looks offended. “I’m more like your bodyguard.”

“Oh yeah? Who are you guarding me from? Your friends?”

He looks up over his glasses in thought. “Well, just Harcourt. And Murn. But it’s mostly to keep you safe from the butterflies.”

You take another drink of wine. Studying his face, you think he’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t consider you to be his hostage. As you look him over, you realise you’ve never noticed how curly his hair is before- he’s normally wearing that dorky little Fennel Fields hat. 

You’ve always thought he was cute in a wholesome kind of way but now that he’s out of his work uniform, you can appreciate that he’s, like, ridiculously, conventionally handsome. You wonder if he knows it. You wonder a lot of things about Adrian, especially now that, come to think of it, everything you know about him is probably a lie to keep his secret identity hidden.

“Truth or dare?” you blurt. 

“What?”

“Go on.” You gesture towards him with your glass. “We’ve got a long night. I want to find out more about you. Adrian. Vigilante.”

He looks excited. Maybe it’s the prospect of playing a game, or maybe he’s just happy someone wants to know more about him. Both sides of him.

“Truth then.”

“Does your pregnant ex-girlfriend exist?”

He groans and leans his head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “No. I was just trying to cover how stoked I was that Peacemaker was out of jail.” 

You laugh, but your eyes linger on his exposed neck and the way his Adam’s apple moves when he talks.

He turns his head to look over at you through his wire-rimmed glasses. “I don’t think Taylor likes me.”

“Taylor likes you just fine,” you lie, sipping your wine.

“Truth or dare?” asks Adrian.

“Truth.”

“Has Taylor ever told you that you shouldn’t date me?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes. He told me not to give you my number.”

“Why?!”

“If you want to ask a follow-up question, then you need to take a drink. That’s the rule.” He does so- quickly. “Okay, fine. He says he doesn’t trust you because you’re always lying about things, and it kind of annoys everyone because you’re a bad liar.”

“Everyone?! I thought we were talking about Taylor?”

“If you want to be liked and have a secret identity, you need to be a better liar.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” admits Adrian, twisting the stem of the glass between his fingers. “Your turn, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

He thinks for a couple of beats. “I dare you to finish your drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“It was the only dare I could think of that wasn’t a sexy dare.”

The newly formed idea of Adrian asking you to do something sexy for him makes you pause. Warmth pools deep in your tummy as watches you, waiting. God, why does red wine always make you feel so slutty? You raise your eyebrows over the rim of your glass, and you drain the rest of the liquid. “Why don’t you want to give me a sexy dare?” you ask, setting your glass down.

“I dunno, don’t you think there’s kind of a power imbalance?” 

“That’s true. You are my bodyguard after all.” You nod contemplatively. “And I guess it would be awkward since you need to stay here for a few more days.”

“Oh, I meant-” Adrian cuts himself off. What he really meant would sound incredibly childish now. 

You get up from the couch to retrieve another bottle of wine from the breakfast bar that separates your kitchen from your living room. “Go on, what did you mean?”

“No, I meant what you said.” 

No, he didn’t. What he meant is that you have all the power because he has such a huge crush on you. And the way the wine is going to his head, he’s not sure he trusts himself to give you a dare without it having an ulterior motive. Adrian watches as you twist the corkscrew into the bottle with precision. Your chest jiggles in your tank top with the recoil of your arm extracting the cork, and it makes Adrian blush bright red. He discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans.

You bring the new bottle of wine over to the couch and sit down cross-legged, your back leaning against the armrest so you can get a better look at him without constantly straining. Fuck, he’s gorgeous like this, you think, as he gets comfortable, changing position so he can look at you too. In the soft light of your living room, you can make out that his cheeks are pink again. “Does wine usually make you flush like that?” you ask. 

“Uh, I wouldn’t know. Can wine do that?”

“To some people, yeah. For me, it just makes me feel kinda sexy.” You clap your hand to your mouth, watching Adrian’s eyes widen. “Ugh! Sorry, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t had two glasses already.” You scoff and shake your head. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The wine is making you feel bolder. “Have you had sex in your Vigilante costume?”

“Today?”

You almost choke on your newly poured drink with laughter. 

“Okay, that answers that question. In which case, I have a follow-up,” You take a sip, pointedly. “What’s Vigilante’s favourite sex position?”

“Oh, uh…” Adrian thinks back to when he last had sex as Vigilante, with Amber and Peacemaker a few days ago. “Any, I guess.”

“Any? C’mon, you picked truth!”

“It is the truth! I don’t take my mask off, or my suit if I don’t have to. So it always feels the same. Fun, I guess, but sorta uncomfortable. Funcomfortable.”

You smile and rest your head on your hand, elbow leaning on the back of the couch. “What about Adrian?”

“Is that another follow-up question?”

You acquiesce and take another drink but before you can even swallow he says “Missionary.”

“Boring,” you tease but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“It’s not. Not when you really like someone anyway. Missionary is fucking great - when you can kiss them, hold their hand, stare into their eyes…” He pauses, his green eyes burning into yours. “Boring is not being able to even taste someone because of my mask.”

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. You look away and exhale slowly, trying to steady the growing arousal burning hot, deep in your pelvic floor. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” When you raise your head again, he’s still looking at you intently. “I just realised I haven’t been fucked like that in a really long time.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah right! I bet you go on tons of dates.”

“I do,” you admit with a tilt of your head. “But did you know that like 90% of women don’t orgasm on a one-night stand?”

Adrian’s eyebrows knit together “That doesn’t sound right. Women always cum when I-”

“That’s what all men say, Adrian. But honestly, I don’t think a man has made me cum in, like, the entire time I’ve been single.”

“I could,” he says, matter-of-factly. It’s not a boast, it’s a simple statement. 

Honestly, you're not sure if it’s the alcohol or the vivid image you have of Adrian making you clutch at your bedsheets and moan his name, but something’s making the blood rush to your face and other parts of your body that you’re still desperately trying not to think about. 

“I’ll do it right now if you want?” 

He’s asking if he can try to make you cum as casually as if asking if he can help you restock the vending machine. It’s bolder than you’d expected from the shy busboy. Then again, you’d never expected him to be Vigilante either… maybe you should review all the preconceptions you have of him.

Your abdomen clenches. Fuck, you can feel how hot and sticky your underwear is as he blinks at you behind his glasses, waiting for your response.

You look at his face hungrily, eyes lingering on his lips, now stained with red wine. “Adrian, listen. I’m sure you’re very good, blah blah blah. But I just… I don’t want to set you up for disappointment. It’s kind of hard to make me cum.”

“Let me give it a shot. And if I can make you cum, you let me take you on a date.”

You stare at him, feeling your chest pounding as you contemplate his offer. There’s something about his voice that’s so sincere and so fucking desperate for you, your brain can’t think of a reason not to say yes.

“Truth or dare?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Truth.”

“Do you want me to go down on you? I’m really good at it.”

Yes! You want to scream- already stupidly soaking fucking wet at the mere idea of it. 

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut and nod. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Yeah?” His tone makes you think that he wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.

“Yes, Adrian.” You laugh in disbelief. “If you make me cum, you can take me on a date.” He grins and you shift inelegantly, not sure how to proceed. “So… how do you wanna-”

Adrian pounces on you before you can ask the question, his red-stained lips crashing against yours. You kiss him back- hard. You’re thirsty for him, you realise, as you taste the alcohol mixed with the slightly metallic taste of his saliva. You want to drain him, drown in him.

He groans when you grab the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. He can’t believe that you’re kissing him like this- like it’s you who’s been pining after him and not the other way around.

You pause, lips barely touching his. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” you whisper.

“You- you have?”

“Adrian, I spend half my week trying to find you new kinds of speciality soda just so I have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Realisation dawns on him. All this time he just thought you were really, really into soda. 

Adrian gives you one last deep kiss and pulls away. He gets on his knees on the floor, and the sight of him there, with his hands on your hips and his body between your legs, makes your cunt clench. You bite your lips in anticipation.

His fingertips hook the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” You lift your hips, permitting him to remove them.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring at your pussy.

“Adrian…” You mumble, suddenly self-conscious. Exposed. You try to bring your knees together, but he places a hand on each of your thighs, holding them firmly open. 

“You’re wet already,” he says, in a self-satisfied sort of way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. “When did that happen? Was it when I said I’d make you cum?”

You shake your head. “When I was wondering what kind of sexy dare you wanted to give me.”

He grins “I wanted to dare you to take your top off.” He traces a finger along your hot, wet folds. You gasp, feeling the calloused texture of his fingertip brushing up and down against your skin.

“Like this?” You lift your tank top up and over your head, tossing it aside and then you squeeze your tits together. 

He sits on the floor, lips parted slightly in awe. You feel like he’s looking at you like you’re the most-

“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Now you really are embarrassed but before you can respond, he dips the finger that was sliding along your folds into your pussy. You bite your lip to stifle the vulnerable, blissful sigh that leaves you.

“It’s okay- you can moan for me.” He reassures, pushing a thick finger in and up. You feel your walls squeezing around him in response. “God, you’re so tight around my finger.”

“Fuck-” you plead, as he teases you, gently stroking your g-spot. His lips haven’t even touched you yet and you already feel like you’re having to consciously stop yourself from cumming.

“You needed this, huh?” he asks and you watch as he kisses your inner thigh, sucking the sensitive skin there. You have to look away- just the sight of his jaw muscles moving as he traces his tongue along the crevice where your thigh meets your body almost sends you over the brink.

“Adrian, I’m- fuck-” After all your warnings about how difficult it would be to make you cum, you’re are shamefully close already- and Adrian knows it. Everything below your waist is hot and shaking and swollen as his finger curls up inside you, tapping rhythmically. 

“Wait not yet- I’ve got to taste you. I want you to cum on my tongue.”

Warmth envelopes your clit as Adrian opens his mouth and slowly glides his tongue over the bundle of nerves there, tasting you for the first time. He barely moves at all but you’re so close that just the pressure of his mouth on you sends the crashing wave of your orgasm rolling across his hot tongue. Your back arches and your walls clamp down around his finger. 

He lets out a groan, sending pleasant vibrations across your clit. 

“Shit, Adrian-”

Blinding lights appear somewhere between your eyelids and the centre of the universe. Your thighs tense as the pleasure shoots through your body, your pussy flooding his mouth between your legs. 

When you finally stop twitching he removes his tongue from you, giving you a moment’s respite. 

“That was, like, really easy,” he smirks as you run your hands through your hair in disbelief. “I didn’t even have to take my glasses off.”

“I’ve never-” You try to catch your breath, blinking at him. You’re not sure you’ve even made yourself cum that quickly before. “That’s never happened -so fast- ever.”

“I shoulda asked what two orgasms would get me.”

“Literally anything. Do whatever you want with me-” you babble, staring up at the ceiling. You pause to look down when you feel him remove his finger from inside you. 

And he takes off his glasses, ready to make you a fucking mess.

It’s the singular hottest action you’ve ever seen anyone do in your entire life- Adrian Chase is going to be the end of you.

He hooks his arms behind your knees, lifting your ass off of the couch and pulling you towards him. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, mesmerised by the way your chest still heaves in the aftershock of your orgasm. Adrian buries his face between your legs, delving his tongue between your lips and exploring your entrance.

He pulls back for a second “I knew you’d taste so fucking good.” 

Fuck. 

You watch as he sucks on two of his fingers and sinks them deep inside you, up to his knuckles. When you repeat his name over and over, he answers by flicking his tongue over your clit.

You gasp at the sensation and grab a fistful of his thick, curly hair. His tongue rolls gentle circles around your clit as his fingers work in and out, softly stretching your pussy. Adrian takes his time now and it’s agonising. 

For so long he’s been having sex as Vigilante. Adrian’s missed this, the freedom of having his mask off. Of taste. And he can’t believe that it’s you that he’s devouring. 

Fuck, and you could lie here like this forever, just enjoying him exploring you, like he wants nothing more than to make you gush all over him and cry his name again. Normally you’d feel under pressure to perform, to give him that second orgasm he’s so determined to draw from you, but the way he’s taking his time, lazily swirling his tongue in circles, and curling his fingers into you makes you dissolve into a puddle.

“Fuuuck,” you whine helplessly, feeling the familiar sensation of you losing yourself, the heat that’s been slowly building deep in your core threatening to boil over. “Can we do this, like, the whole time you’re here protecting me?” Your eyes try to find his but he’s staring at your tits. His other hand is on your hip, fingers not quite stretching up towards you - as if unsure what the boundary is on touching you when it comes to this silly little deal you’ve made.

You pull his hand to your chest, encouraging him to squeeze you. He moans needily between wet, sloppy licks. The sound of him being so turned on just from touching your body, when you haven’t laid a hand on him yet sends ecstasy searing through you.

And it comes, whipping through your core and cracking like thunder. You squeeze your thighs around his head and he lets you set the pace, as you grind yourself wildly onto his tongue, his lips, his chin. Adrian groans in encouragement when you grip the back of his head, his fingers still pressing into your g-spot as you press yourself against his mouth. 

You cum hard again, your rocking hips eventually shuddering to a halt as he gives you a few last long, slow licks. The faint prickle of embarrassment you feel from letting yourself come undone like that vanishes when you see Adrian’s face light up, his lips swollen and sticky, totally enamoured by your now slightly dishevelled appearance. 

His mouth looks irresistible. You slink down off the couch to join him on the floor so you can kiss him desperately. Fuck, why did you ever listen to Taylor? You needed this. Needed him. You taste the sweet, salty juices on Adrian’s lips and on his tongue.

“I’ll admit-” you breathe, pressing your forehead against his. “- you’re like really, really fucking good at that.”

“Told you.” He leans on the couch and gets to his feet. “So, where’s your bedroom?”

“Uh, down the hall, across from the bathroom. Why?”

“Two orgasms and I can do what I want with you. Deal’s a deal.” Before your brain can catch up, he hoists you to your feet and over his shoulder, making you squeal involuntarily with delight.

Oh my fucking god.

Adrian slaps your ass and carries you through to your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed where you burst into a fit of giggles. He smells warm and clean, like your favourite shower gel he must have used earlier. He crawls on top of you and plants tiny kisses all over your lips, your cheeks, your nose- every inch of your face and neck peppered with his affection. 

He pulls off his T-shirt and - Jesus Christ, he has abs. But you also notice his torso is covered in scars and bruises, the evidence of his double life painted across his body. A streak of white scar tissue here, a purple welt there-

“Don’t girls usually ask about all these injuries?” You ask, tracing your hand down his chest.

“I usually keep my suit on.” He shrugs.

And that’s when you realise- he doesn’t just happen to have sex as Vigilante. He only has sex as Vigilante. You feel a pang of understanding, thinking about the way he so wistfully described missionary earlier. You’re the only one who’s seen him like this. Both sides of him.

Adrian undoes his belt buckle and looks down at you lying spread out of the bedsheets in front of him, still flushed and glowing. He knew he’d be able to make you glow like that.

He pauses. “Do, uh, do you have a condom? I wasn’t expecting to…”

You find a condom in your bedside drawer while he undresses and then you help to put it on him as you kiss the small trail of dark hair below his belly button. He’s big- bigger than what you’re used to. You’d really, really like to suck it, you think. But Adrian has other ideas. He guides you back to lie on your pillows and climbs on top of you.

Wanton anticipation bubbles over inside you, you sigh needily as he kisses your neck and brings his calloused hand between your legs again. He slides his fingers into your folds and you hear the wet sounds of him rubbing your slick on his cock. It’s greedy but you’re already impatient for him- you want to cum for him again.

He positions himself at your entrance and looks into your eyes. “You okay?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Fuck me- please.”

The way you plead makes him twitch- he can’t take it anymore. The erection he’s had since you opened that second bottle of wine is throbbing. Adrian’s hips press into you and you feel his cock pushing through your folds, into your centre. A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel him filling you up, the walls of your pussy struggling to accommodate him.

Watching your reaction, he double checks “Sure you’re okay?” 

You nod. Because it aches - but in the best kind of way. 

“Good,” he says. “Because you feel so good. Your pussy feels so fucking good around me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. Fuck, he has such a slutty little waist, you think to yourself as he grinds into you, pushing deeper, the head of his cock pressing into your g-spot. You slip your hand between your bodies to touch yourself and he moans quietly in your ear.

“Oh my god, yeah. Fuck, rub your clit because I’m not gonna last long.”

He clasps your other hand, fingers intertwining with yours- half holding it, half pinning it to the bed. Your body writhes under him, leaning your head back into your pillows and he takes the opportunity to suck at your freshly exposed neck.

“You look so good taking it so deep like this,” he groans, tilting his head down to watch his cock slide in and out of you. “I can’t believe I’m fucking inside you.”

Everything he says makes the hairs on the back of your arms stand up. You feel so, deliciously full- the indecent slapping and squelching noises as he picks up pace and pounds into you only makes you wetter.

Your legs squeeze around his waist as your whole body tightens like a spring coiling, ready to be released. The friction of his body moves yours, driving you into your mattress, and putting even more rhythmic pressure on your fingers against your clit. 

“Adrian, I’m- ah, fuck- I’m gonna cum again.”

“Fuck, look at me. I want you to cum when I cum. Let it all out for me.”

You try and keep eye contact with him while bliss rockets through your body as his hips slam into you harder. It spreads from your centre right down your legs, now in a vice-like grip around him. You curse his name incoherently, your pussy tightening and releasing as you cum around his cock. 

“That’s it- fuckfuckfuckfuck-” His full weight collapses on you as he empties himself. You feel Adrian’s cock pulsing inside you as he groans your name and comes to a halt.

You both lie there for a few moments, Adrian breathing raggedly into the crook of your neck, his heartbeat and yours pounding against each other. Your euphoria is interrupted only briefly when he pulls out of you and disposes of the condom. 

Adrian returns to your bed and pulls you into his chest. 

“I am never listening to Taylor ever again,” you say, face pressed against his pectoral muscles.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, unless…” You tilt your head up to look at him. “You still want to take me on a date right?”

“Are you crazy? Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nevermind.” The dating scene in Evergreen has sucked so hard for so long, your first thought was that he might not want to see you again.

He grabs your face with both hands, trying to drum sense into you. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for months. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Adrian plants a kiss on your forehead.

Maybe there is a decent man in this town after all.

[yanderederee]

LittleSnack

a/n:ive been eating a lot lately, and getting a little insecure about it.. so here’s some comfort♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“You packed way too much food again!”

Your friend said in an appalled tone.

Atsushi Murasakibara’s ears perked at the mention of too much food, immediately lifting his head up from his previously sleeping position. Looking over at you right away, he stared down your loaded bento.

His mouth watered. Grilled beef, a side of fragrant pan noodles, dumplings, and … leftover Bibimbap. Now his mouth was watering ….

Of course, Murasakibara had finished his lunch long ago. Now that it was lunch though, he was sort of regretting it. No matter how many times he regrets eating his lunch too soon, he always does it again the next day…

“You eat like that everyday y/n… pretty soon, you’re gonna start gaining even more weight…” your friend continued with a judgmental overlook.

You laughed off her rude comment. “You know I’m not worried about that kind of stuff. I just have a big appetite.”

Your defense fell on deaf ears as your friend sighed. “Can’t you just use a normal excuse, like ‘I accidentally made too much!’ And offer the rest of what you shouldn’t eat to someone you like?”

You paused eating upon her words, annoyance prickling your good mood. “I don’t need to make an excuse for my eating habits… I’m happy just the way I am.” You replied calmly, continuing your lunch with a bit more attitude.

Murasakibara, overheating the entire thing, smirked. He’d always had a little bit of an admiration towards you and your large appetite. It was rare to find a girl who ate as much as you. But since he was never all that interested in girls, he made no effort in learning more about you than that.

Seeing this new side of you was nice. He liked the way you stood up for yourself, and took pride in the way you were. Not to mention, the food you brought in always looked homemade. He couldn’t help but wonder if you made it yourself.

“Whatever, just trying to look out for you.” Your friend shrugged, and kept silent about the subject.

Murasakibara glanced at you, instead of your food, and noticed a weird look on your face. Even after you finished the entirety of your bento, you still looked unsatisfied.

The food looked great, and he couldn’t imagine you’d still be hungry. Maybe you were; he was often still hungry after any meal he had too. That’s why he snacked so much, anyway.

That had to be it, you were snacky. No matter how delicious the food you had was, it was true you had nothing sweet.

Dessert was the most important part of a meal, after all.

Without realizing the meaning behind his actions before acting on them, he began searching his snack-school bag for what he had on him.

Four bags of different chips, three mambo sticks, two rice cakes, a few handfuls of Sakura mochi candies, a bag of hi-chew, and two red bean buns.

Looking at the assortment made his mouth water. He was definitely going to indulge in some snacks as well. Reaching in, he pulled out a bag of chips, a mambo stick, four Sakura mochi, a handful of hichew, and a red bean bun. He honestly had no idea what kind of food or snacks you liked, so he just grabbed a little bit of everything.

Hauling the load in his stupidly large hands, he quietly walked over to your desk. You were sitting alone now with your bento neatly put away, since lunch was only a minute from ending.

“Y/n-chin…” your classmate said in a deadpan tone, before laying the snacks out on your desk. Your eyes bulged wide in shock. Your mouth fell open, confused. Speechless, you craned your neck up to look at your tall classmate. “M-Murasakibara-kun…?” You asked.

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You looked hungry… teach yells at me if she catches me snacking during class though, so careful not go get caught…” he looked away after catching your glistening gaze.

Why was he suddenly embarrassed?

“Y-you didn’t have to! I couldn’t..” you tried to offer the snacks back, but he already started walking away. “Eat them all y/n-chin~”

And just as he sat back in his seat, the class bell rang to start lessons. Crap, he was gonna have to sneak-snack again.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Murasakibara was putting away his school materials, careful not to squish any of the snacks inside. “M-Murasakibara-kun…” you said quietly while standing over his desk. With an unimpressed glance, he looked at you, practically at each other’s height even though he was sitting.

“Thanks for the snacks today… they were really good.” You smiled at him. “I don’t have anything to repay you though, so…”

You looked down at your fidgeting fingers. “I-if you don’t mind, I’d like to cook you something. I-I always accidentally make too much food at home, enough for an extra bento or two… so, if there’s anything you’d like, I’d be happy to make something for you.”

As if buffering, Murasakibara sat unmoving in silence. Well, this was a surprise. He wasn’t sure how he should respond. He didn’t offer you the snacks to get something out of you, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to eat your cooking.

“Really?” He asked.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely!”

“You’re sure?” He asked again.

You laughed heartily at this. He wasn’t sure what was so funny, but your continued laughter was making him feel some type of way. It made him smile, like he was happy or something.

“Yes I’m sure! Do you have any requests?” You asked after finally getting your giggling under control.

Murasakibara looked up, and hummed in thought. “Anything I want…. That’s a dangerous question y/n-chin, since I like everything…”

You hummed in unison, and thought. “Buttered chicken?”

“Sounds yummy.”

“Sautéed carrots?”

His nose wrinkled. “Hate carrots.”

You giggled. “No carrots. Pork dumplings?”

“Sure…”

“Muchim?”

“As long as it isn’t too spicy.”

Satisfied, you nodded, and pulled your bag over your shoulder in preparation to leave. “Look forward to it, then!”

Murasakibara wasn’t sure why, but he felt the urge to call out for you when you began to walk away. He didn’t though, remained sitting while he watched you leave.

“What was that about?” Himuro asked suddenly, scaring the purple giant half to death. “Nothin’” he huffed in reply.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

The next day, Murasakibara almost forgot about yesterday’s events. He forgot things pretty easily. As he put his shoes away, he began thinking about if he’d have enough time to eat his bento before the beginning of the day bell rang.

“Murasakibara-kun,” he heard his name call out to him from behind, halfway down the hall. He stopped, and looked back to see you with two large furushiki wrappings in hand. “I might have went a little overboard, sorry.” You laughed quietly.

Oh yeah, you promised to bring him lunch today. He wasn’t sure how he forgot that.

“Thanks,” he accepted the purple furushiki, surprised by its hefty weight.

“I hope it’s to your liking!” You grinned up at him. Caught up in surprise, he only just realized how fucking short you were. Everyone was short compared to him but, well, he could have easily missed you if he didn’t actively look down.

Before he had the chance to reply, you were jogging off to your shared classroom, carefree and greeting friends along the way.

…

The hours seemed to pass agonizingly slow between then and lunch time… Despite being successful in scarfing down the lunch his mom packed him for the day (as per usual), he was eager to finally enjoy the food he’d been wishing he could eat from your bento from afar.

…

Finally, the heavenly sound of the lunch bell ended morning lectures. Immediately, he pulled out the wrapped bento box, unwrapped the furushiki, and popped open the first of three boxes.

He wanted to eat slowly, savor each bite for its amazing flavor. But that was just impossible. He barely had enough time to chew between each bite, he was eating so fast.

Too distracted by the food in front of him, he hadn’t noticed you staring at him. “He sure is eating fast,” you chuckled to yourself, making your friend cock an eyebrow at you. “Why the sudden interest? Wait… isn’t that one of your lunch boxes? No, that’s definitely your furushiki on his desk. Y/n, did you..?!” She asked, almost choking on her own lunch.

“W-what can I say… I-I accidentally made too much…” you looked away from her suspecting squint. “Oh my god.” She whispered, looking back to Murasakibara. “Never for a thousand years would I have guessed… you and Mu—“ she tried to tease you, but you cut her off with a sush.

“Not out loud..!” You whispered red faced.

Glancing back again, you spotted Murasakibara seeking you out, mouth full and giving you a big thumbs up. You almost gasped, his approval earning a much deeper blush out of you.

Once he’d finished, he wrapped everything back up. Though, when he handed it back to you, it was much… lumpier than you remembered.

“It was good.” Murasakibara reported back to you in his usual dull tone. “Just good?” Your friend huffed. “That’s it?”

Murasakibara narrowed his eyes, not sure what she meant. It’s not like he was very fond of her anyway, given her attitude toward the way you ate in the first place. Was she trying to get on his nerves?

“She went out of her way to make extra food for you? Can’t you act a little more grateful for her kindness?” She asked, pulling her own finished dishes away from your desk.

“S-stop.!” You hissed.

Your friend shrugged, unfazed. “Just sayin’.” She said just before walking away, leaving you two in shock.

“D-don’t worry about—“ you tried to laugh off the poor attitude she left behind, but Murasakibara got the idea.

“The Muchim was a little spicy, but i really liked it. The rice you made was fluffier than how my mom makes it, so I liked it better. The sauce you put on the chicken was also different than I’ve had before, so I really liked that too… I also liked the way you fried the dumplings on the bottom…” he tried thinking of different ways to compliment your exceptional cooking, but he wasn’t really that good with words. Hell, he wasn’t very social in general. Talking to you at all was out of his normal behavior.

Nevertheless, his kind words struck a cord in you. “It wasn’t too much?” You asked.

“I could have thirds.” He admitted.

“I have some leftover from my own lunch, if you-“

“Nah, that’s your food y/n-chin. You should finish it.” Murasakibara pointed at the lunchbox wrapping he handed back to you. “I also left some snacks in there for you as thanks, make sure to eat those too.”

That explains why the wrapping was lumpy. You couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s thoughtful of you, thanks.”

Murasakibara nodded, and started walking back to his desk, but felt a tug on his sleeve that made him stop and look back.

“Sorry… but, do you mind if I call you by a nickname? After all, not only do you call me by my first name, but it’s also shortened…”

He looked down at you silently for a moment too long to feel comfortable. “I-I just mean, Murasakibara is a bit of a mouthful, you know?”

Crap, were you overstepping? Nervously, you averted your gaze. He liked seeing this shy side of you too. Atsushi smiled, and sat in the seat your friend left open. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

Happily surprised at his change of tone, you unfolded the lunch cloth, and pulled out a red bean bun.

Til the end of lunch, you both sat and chatted with one another.

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?" 

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 

Another question out of left field. 

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 

"Yeah…" they murmur back. 

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

-

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

-

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 

Ace tried two more times to meet you. 

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face. 

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for? 

-

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–" 

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.” 

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 

"Cater." 

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair. 

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

-

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard. 

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

[daegutowns]

pookie (yjh)

tags: husband jeonghan, girl dad jeonghan, gn!reader, refers to reader as his wife, he is a clutch dad, very playful dad, the daughter is just like him, yoon genes run deep

girl dad jeonghan who is just kind of a silly individual who loves other people who are silly…. like his best friends are seungcheol (old man silly), joshua (crazy silly), and dokyeom (just a deeply silly individual). he had told you that the reason he liked hanging out with them was because they were always so entertaining and willing to laugh with him. life is too short to not be laughing whenever you can! 

girl dad jeonghan who laughs at the same thing your toddler kid does. not gonna lie… his humor probably fits around little kids. he laughs at fart jokes and likes teasing. this is probably why jeonghan gets along with your daughter so well. 

girl dad jeonghan who has a good eye for cute things, so he likes dressing up your daughter. ever since she was a baby, he has always liked staying up just a little later to coordinate her outfits with you. you hadn’t expected him to be this invested in this part of your baby’s life. 

girl dad jeonghan who likes doing your daughter’s hair before school. since he also had long hair in the past and grows his hair out into a pookalicious bob every now and then, he is someone who knows hair. he braids your daughter’s hair and lets her learn how to do it on his hair. sometimes they both come up to you and ask you to do a matching hairstyle on them. of course… you have to join in on the fun too. 

girl dad jeonghan who doesn’t have a problem with playing along with your daughter’s tea parties. she wants a tea party? then let there be teacakes. he always goes the full mile for her. you often wonder how he has the stamina to keep up with her, but he takes naps at the same time she does. you have a lot of those photos in your camera roll. 

girl dad jeonghan whose favorite school day is bring your father to school day. they wear matching outfits, just to flex on the other dads in your daughter’s class. he prints out the picture they take together every year, and you two keep it in an album in your bedroom. 

girl dad jeonghan who doesn’t know pop culture or new artists that well but still learns the dances to your daughter’s favorite kpop songs so he can teach her too. her favorite thing is learning dances from her dad and seeing him perform. when she was old enough to dance, you’d bring her along to times that you watched seventeen’s practices. 

girl dad jeonghan who laughs when she picks up phrases from him or tries to copy him. he sometimes sees her just carrying around a plastic spoon or falling asleep with it in her hand. when she gets scared, she has a three pitch whine that makes him wonder where he’s heard it form while you wonder how both of them got to be so similar. 

girl dad jeonghan whose daughter calls him pookie, because that’s what you used to call him when she was a baby. he never corrected her until later. (“not pookie but dad!” “pookie!”) honestly, he doesn’t mind and finds it funny anyways. his members tease him and call him pookie too, but he’s not as forgiving to them as he is with his daughter. 

girl dad jeonghan who melts at your daughter’s aegyo. he always asks you how she’s so good at it, especially when she wants something. but, you know better. everything she’s used is all learned from him. he just doesn’t know his own trick are being used against him! he always encourages your daughter to do aegyo on seungcheol so he can buy her snacks, though. (and it works every time…) 

girl dad jeonghan who is protective of his daughter. he asks his group members to back up when you visit with her so that she doesn’t get overwhelmed. one at a time! gently hold her! support her neck! don’t spit on her mingyu! his group members always joke around that he brags about his daughter all the time but only nags when they get to actually see her in person. 

girl dad jeonghan who loves seeing his daughter get along with her kpop idol uncles. she’s charmed all the members of seventeen and has them wrapped around her precious little finger. even his hyungwon hyung thinks she’s the cutest gem ever. as they should. that’s his daughter. 

finally, girl dad jeonghan who finds himself lucky to be able to love your daughter and you.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Baby-Sitting Duty

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request: “You look your cutest like this” and Roy.

Roy Kent x Reader

0.6k words

Warnings: Language, fluff, Phoebe in a little food coma

This Saturday night was supposed to be a date night. That is, until Roy’s sister called, begging her brother to take Phoebe for the night. Not that much begging was necessary; he’d never say no to time with his niece. His apologies and promise to make it up to you were also wholly unnecessary. You adored Phoebe, and honestly, you relished every opportunity to see Roy with his precious little niece.

And so there the three of you were, spending Saturday night with a table full of unhealthy snacks, bowls of ice cream on the kitchen counter, and the latest Disney movie on the television. Phoebe was long gone, having eaten far too much candy, despite your hisses to Roy to tell her to slow down. Your boyfriend had playfully rolled his eyes at your suggestion, mumbling something along the lines of, “She’ll be fine. If not, she’ll learn her limits.” You rolled your eyes back and told him that this was a child with sweets, not a twenty-year-old with alcohol.

Sure enough, that little girl had gorged herself into a candy coma, barely making it to the second musical number of the cartoon that still lit up the big screen. She was nestled between the two of you, under Roy’s arm, eyes closed and soft snores coming from her sugar-coated mouth. You had tugged a blanket over her, earning a soft look from Roy.

He loved seeing you with Pheebs. You took on the role of ‘aunt’ in stride, and you did it well. You knew all of her likes and dislikes, kept up with the latest classroom drama, took her side when she demanded Roy be the princess in Princess and the Dragon, and attended every single one of her football games. It warmed his often too-cold heart and always had him wondering about the right time to pull his grandmother’s wedding ring out of his nightstand.

Someday, he thought, flashing you a small smile over the top of Phoebe’s head. Someday.

You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own, shaking your head as you watched his fingers absently play with his niece’s blonde hair.

“What?” he whispered, checking to make sure he wasn’t too loud for Phoebe.

You shrugged, turning your body to face him properly. “I just like seeing you like this,” you answered quietly. “Doting on Phoebe, cuddling with her. You look your cutest like this.”

Roy put on his best scowl, hardening his face playfully. “’m not fucking cute,” he growled.

“Oh yes you are,” you teased as you threw a stray piece of popcorn at his nose. “Roy Kent is the cutest man in the world,” you declared. “And I love him for that.”

His face softened, your words making it hard to keep up his charade. “And I love you for not fucking telling anyone how cute I am,” he conceded. He glanced down at his little niece. “Her neck’s gonna get all stiff if I leave her like this,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna go tuck her in.”

You shook your head and stood. “I’ve got her,” you assured him. With that, you bent down and scooped the girl into your arms, offering loving shushes as she stirred. “Be right back.” As you walked down the hall to the guest room that was really Phoebe’s room, he could hear you murmuring to her, “I know, darling. I’ll bring you something for your tummy in a moment, alright?”

Again, Roy felt his heart soften. You took such good care of Phoebe. Of him. Of the team whenever you were with them. You were loving and kind and gentle with everyone. He loved that about you. Fuck, he loved everything about you.

He frowned for a brief moment before rising to his feet and tiptoeing to his bedroom.

He just needed to grab one thing from his nightstand before you came back into the living room.

[applebuttercringe]

Arcane Episode 6 Immediate Thoughts

Spoilers

-Give me the doomed Jayvik content, I'm ready. Jayce is an off the wall murderer hell bent on destroying Arcane and Viktor is the new Herald of the Arcane.

-Viktor is a full on magical girl transformation dimension. The floating and glowing, start patterns, glowing hair.

-Huh

-So Viktor is straight up God?

-This Caitlyn training scene is dope

-OOOH they're gonna go to Viktor to cure Vander. Thats a cool way to tie all these stories together. I wonder if any of them will recognize Viktor. Did Caitlyn or Jayce tell Vi about him?

-Look at Jinx's face, she does not give a fuck about Vi and Hucks stand off.

-Man the council didn't know shit, Viktor should have been in charge this whole time.

-Man Jayce is gonna show up and destroy it. 🥺

-HAHAHAHAHA VIKTOR IS SO JESUS, the long hair, the robe, the staff.

-Viktor has his original eye color in the Hexcore universe.

-cookie

-Even Jinx knows Viktor is a straight up snack.

-Fortune cookies are canon? What Americanized Chinese food restaraunt is Jinx going to? Is there a Panda Express in Zaun?

-Viktors Steel Oasis is realized

-Oh hey it's the kind of plant that he experimented on the hexcore with

-So is this real Sky and we were all wrong in thinking the Hexcore was just using her image?

-Does this take several days? How long is it taking Jayce to come to the undercity? He seemed in a hurry when we last saw him.

-I don't care if these animatic style visuals are the result of a mismanaged budget. Arcane's 2d music video style visuals are so good when you aren't being told they are just for cost saving.

-"We"

-This is nice, this is what I wanted for Thor and Loki

-Singed has a Vander tracking compass. Like the Vampire compass in Vampire Diaries.

-Does Caitlyn know the Herald is Viktor? How will she react?

-Ooh the Singed-Viktor reunion!

-Why is Viktors voice more metallic than before?

-"Evolution has a destination" I mean technically no, you're a scientist Viktor c'mon. Thats a common misconception.

-GLORIOUS EVOLUTION MENTIONED

-And he had the voice distortion when he said it, this is the desire of the Hexcore not of him?

-Is Viktor dating a ghost?

-OH DAMN, the Caitvi reunion is a violent one. Not looking good for the Caitvi stans, or the future of this ship. They're doing a Catradora.

-Caitlyn is a dictator who is offended by being called a mongoose, and by her ex-gfs new style. Be glad she didn't get bangs Caitlyn.

-"Cupcake"

-Ambessa eating an entire raw meat hunk with her hands.

-Oh damn, the betrayal.

-HOLY SHIT JAYCE, ITS HAPPENING, IM NOT READY!

-The music, is this the start of the inevitable end of a three episode arc music montage fight scene that cuts between the plot points while a pop-rock song plays?

-SPIT ON HER

-Oh no, this is the sweet conversation that happens to make everything happy so they can rip it away by killing one of the characters isn't it? Is Isha gonna die soon?

-OH, the Caitvi reveal! Caitlyn did a good! Nice. All it took was to be in her ex-gfs presence one more time and she completely flipped. Poor Maddie.

-The blind fold is kinda kinky tbh

-is Caitlyn gonna see Jayce? Will they talk? Has Caitlyn seen Viktor?

-Now Jayce has a leg brace, my how the turn tables. I little ableist maybe that a leg brace is used to show who is powerless in the dynamic but still.

-I wish we knew more about what Jayce went through, or how long the time skip is, to have context. C'mon writers what was it?

-Once again Jayce is about to nuke a child with the Hex Hammer

-Is Jayce gonna come be healed?!

-The come to Jesus music when he goes to meet Viktor.

-Viktor is the Avatar, or a Jedi

-Caitlyn will be saved by Jinx! Will this cause another snap change in her alignment. Who knows!

-Its honestly shocking this is the first time someone has tried just grabbing her uber long hair in a fight.

-JAYCE NUKED VIKTOR!

-IS HE DEAD! MY BLORBO! JAYCE YOU BITCH!

-UNREAL

-Vander is crying lava?

-No Viktor Jayce is the reason your commune failed.

-Jinx crying on the floor after being struck by a loved one like when she was a child.

-Aw this is cute

-Isha better not die, don't you dare show. Don't you DARE.

-They did!

-They killed Viktor and Isha in one episode, Now Caitlyn is just chill with both Vi and Jinx, why. Awful. How dare they. First genuinely bad episode.

Final thoughts: AAAAAAAAAH! I'm actually mad. They killed Isha, they killed Viktor. Both in dumb and unnessecary ways. Jayce's motivations have not been explored in any depth or meaningful way this season which would justify the story move. I was fully ready to call this a flawed but good show till the second half of this episode. I think this arc release will genuinely divide the fandom. Beginning of the end. Oof. Sorry boys. Arcane is Fumbled.

Let me in the writers room, I just wanna talk.

[srovtl]

(in here, a magic that connect hearts) Rutile SSR Card Story Translation

Translator note: This, and all the fifth anniversary card stories, reference each character’s affection story (which can be read here) and I recommend reading them beforehand.

What will you write in the report card - Episode 1

Akira: I'm looking forward to tasting Nero's cake. 

Rutile: Yeah. I'm getting hungry now.

(Crashing sound)

Akira, Rutile: Whoa!?

Akira: I-I just heard a loud noise...

Rutile: It's from outside, right? …..ah.

Bradley: I'm gonna blow your head right off!

Mithra: That is impossible. I'll kill you before that happens.

Looking out the window, Bradley and Mithra were fighting in the air with magical tools in their hands.

Bradley:《Adnopotence》

Mithra:《Arthim》

Gunshots rang out in the blue sky, and a giant ghost-like thing flew around in the sky.

Akira: (It's a familiar sight, but... it's still bad for my heart every time...!)

Meanwhile, gazing up at the same scene, Rutile leisurely smiled.

Rutile: Mister Mithra, you're in high spirits today too. Mister Bradley too.

Akira: Eh... I think that long surpassed the level of high energy?

Rutile: But that's just how Mithra and the Wizards of the North are. It's the same as me being carefree and the Sage being kind.

Rutile smiled softly, as if watching over his students.

Rutile: Fighting is certainly scary. But if Mister Mithra and the others stopped fighting, wouldn't that be a bit worrying?

Akira: That's...certainly true...

Akira: Wha...?!

The impact shook the magic manor. The two's quarrel had not subsided, but rather became even more heated.

Akira: Snow and White are out, and Oz is away on a mission. We really had to stop them...!

Rutile: You're right. It's about time we called out to them.

Rutile opened the window and leaned out.

Rutile: Mister Mithra, Mister Bradley!

Mithra: Rutile?

Bradley: Ah!? Stay out of the way, you bastard!

Rutile: Sorry for interrupting your fight! Would you like a snack?

Mithra: …….

Mithra: Snacks?

Rutile: Mister Nero baked a cake using a new recipe.

Rutile: We're going to go try it now, and I was wondering if you two would like to join me.

Mithra: …….Now that I think of it, I'm a little hungry.

Bradley: What? Where are you going?!

With Bradley's yelling behind him, Mithra came flying in without a word. He swerved over the window frame and entered the hallway.

Bradley: Hey! ….hah…

Akira: (Ah... Bradley flew away. I guess the fight is over...)

Mithra: What kind of cake is it? Venison?

Rutile: It's an orange cake. Apparently they got a lot of fresh oranges at the market.

Rutile speaks with a cheerful voice, as cheerful as a spring breeze. Even though he has interrupted a northern wizard's fight, he doesn't seem shaken.

Akira: (Rutile is a young and energetic wizard, but maybe because he's a school teacher, he's more aware of these things than his age would suggest.)

Akira: (Come to think of it, I thought something similar when I interviewed him before…)

What will you write in the report card - Episode 2

A few days later, I happened to pop into the lounge...

Chloe: Rutile...

Mitile: nii-sama...

Chloe, Mitile: We're sorry!

Rutile: ……

Akira: (Huh? Chloe and Mitile are apologizing profusely to Rutile...?)

Akira: Umm, you three. Did something happen?

Chloe: Sage! You see, we were messing around and knocked over a glass...

Mitile: We spilled juice on the picture nii-sama was drawing...

When I looked at Rutile's hands, I saw orange splashes splashing all over the corner of the picture he was working on.

Chloe: I'm so sorry!

Mitile: I'm sorry, nii-sama!

As the two of them apologized profusely, Rutile frowned dramatically.

Rutile: I'm soo angry. You two are going to be punished.

Rutile: As a punishment... you have to draw with me!

Chloe, Mitile: ….!

Rutile: Now, bring the tools from my room. And two glasses of juice. One for the one you spilled, and one for the Sage.

Mitile: Yes! Of course!

Chloe: I'm off now!

Rutile: Have a nice trip!

Rutile sent them off with a smile as they hurriedly left.

Akira: ...Um, Rutile. You're not actually angry, are you?

Rutile: Yeah. Not at all.

Akira: Then why did you punish them?

Rutile: I don't mind a stain this small, but Mitile and Chloe will probably be bothered by it.

Rutile: They're both kind, but when they're depressed, they tend to hold it in, so I thought it would be better for them to be properly punished so they could move on with a clear mind.

Akira: (It was a way of dealing with them that suited their personalities... He's really a teacher after all.)

Rutile: They were apologizing profusely, but I'm happy about this stain.

Rutile: The fact that they messed around and screwed up was proof that they had become close.

Looking down at the painting, Rutile smiled, embracing it. The way he looked at the newly formed stain was endlessly warm, like the sunlight.

But his clear eyes were not only kind, but also intelligent and fair.

Akira: (...I wonder what the magic manor looks like from Rutile's point of view.)

Akira: (I'd like to know how the magic manor looks through Rutile's eyes, like having a teacher write a report card.)

Akira: (I was also thinking about updating the contents of the sage's manual a bit…)

Akira: Rutile, I have a request.

Akira: I'd like to interview you again to write in the sage's manual. Is that okay?

Rutile: An interview? Of course, I'd be happy to.

Rutile: : How about tonight? I'll be waiting for you in my room.

What will you write in the report card - Episode 3

Rutile: Here you go. It's my favorite tea these days.

Akira: Thank you. Wow, what a nice smell...

Rutile: Hehe. It was like this in the last interview too.

Akira: That brings back memories. Even back then, I was really impressed by Rutile's kindness and strength.

Akira: It's been a while since then, and the Magic manor has changed a little, hasn't it?

Akira: That's why I wanted to know what Rutile thinks about the current manor.

Akira: In my world, there is a "report card" where teachers would give comments about your daily life, so that's how it feels...

Rutile: I see, that's the teacher's role. Well, I'll have to do my best!

Rutile: About the current magic manor...Hmmm...

Rutile: …………………..

Akira: ...Rutile? S-sorry, it's hard to answer right away.

Rutile: Ah. No, it's not that.

Rutile: I just thought about it a lot, and in the end, I think it comes down to "love".

Rutile shook his bright, sun-colored hair and laughed, as if ticklish.

Rutile: There are all kinds of people at the magic manor, so there are fights, people getting too excited, and all kinds of things happen every day.

Rutile: It's \the manor is always being turned upside down, it's always messy and disorganized, and things aren't going well...

Rutile: But that's why I cherish the time I spend here, and I love everyone who has shared that time with me.

Akira: Rutile...

My heart feels warm.

A lot has happened since I came here. We've clashed, stumbled, been hurt, helped each other, shared...

It felt like everything, all of it, made me smile. All of it was what we needed.

Akira: ….Thank you for your wonderful answer. I feel the same way as Rutile.

Rutile: Really? I'm so happy!

Rutile: But, since I'm here, I'd like to hear it in your own words, Sage.

Rutile: Sage, what do you think about the current state of the magic manor?

Looking at me with excited jade eyes, I think and try to find the words.

Akira: Ummm… There are many difficult things, but I love you all, even with all that.

Akira: ...And I hope that everyone who chose to remain here as a sage's wizard feels the same way...

Akira: That's why I was so happy when Rutile said that to me earlier.

Rutile: Sage...

Rutile smiled slowly, dazzlingly, and took my hand.

Rutile: I'll say it again and again. I love this place, all of you, Sage.

Rutile: Please write that in your report card in the sage's manual.

Akira: ...Yes, I'll write it down!

I nodded vigorously and shook Rutile's hand.

I hope that we will continue to make many more wonderful memories, like a stain on a painting.

I can only say because it’s now - Card Episode

Akira: Rutile, thank you for answering the interview for the sage's manual the other day.

Akira: It's not really a continuation of what we did back then, but is there anything you can tell me because it's now?

Rutile: Hmm. I say what I think right away, so I can't really think of anything.

Rutile: Oh, that's right. On the other hand, is there anything you would like to say, Sage? Something you can say to me because it's now.

Akira: Huh? Hmm, let's see… it's not  really because it's now but...

Akira: When I first met you, I thought you were a fragile type based on your overall vibe.

Rutile: Huh! Really? I've never been told that in my hometown. Maybe it's because we've all known each other since we were little?

Rutile: ...But I guess I'm fragile...

Rutile: ...Nice to meet you, Sage.

Akira: Oh! That was exactly the image I had in mind!

Rutile: Really? I was making an impression of Heath just now. I'll keep it up.

Rutile: My favorite thing is rain!

Rutile: Oh no. I'm too energetic.

Rutile: Something more like, pretty and gentle... Elegant, Rain…

Rutile: What do you think, Sage?

Akira: Perfect! ephemeral!

Rutile: Yay! I got the Sage's "ephemeral"!

Akira: (Contrary to my first impression, I really like how energetic and easy going he is…)

Homescreen voiceline

Promises are chains that can restrict our lives, but at the same time, I want to believe that they can be something that enriches our lives. I will do my best to make that a believable reality.

[skyfallslayer]

They're Gonna Taste My Venom

-The DD Trio x Symbiote!Teen!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three

🕷️Summary: Due to their expansion in their business, the trio decides to hire a helping hand to help string things along. The girl is… a little quirky, Karen admits, Or Foggy notices she’s a bottomless pit for snacks, Or that Matt can hear her talking to herself quietly sometimes. But it’s nothing they can’t handle– Oh, no! Now she just bit someone’s hand off, she’s speaking in a deeper tone, and she’s apologizing profusely as she hangs from the ceiling. She might be way out of their league after all.

🕷️Pairings: DD Trio x Platonic!Teen Reader; Karedevil; Foggy x Marci; Teen!Reader x Platonic!Venom

🕷️Rating: Teen-Mature

🕷️Word Count: 6,305

🕷️ Date: 2/21/24

🕷️Warnings: Implied Bad Homelife; Mention of Blood; Canon-Typical Violence; Interrogation; Kidnapping; (Underage) Drugging; Heavy Language; Heavy Dialogue; Mention of Cannibalism; Mention of Body Parts Being Torn Off; Mention of Eating Someone/Biting Off A Limb (Via: Symbiote). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

🕷️ A/N: Hello, dear readers! Welcome to my three part series of an idea that I have no idea where it came from. Lol. Seriously, this strange AU just popped into my head and I was like- "Man, maybe I should make that my next fic?". And BAM! Here it is! Hopefully it's good as I imagine it would be. Enjoy!

These past twelve months have been… something else. The snap that lasted for five years messed up everything that the troublesome trio worked for, which was to rebrand their business: Nelson, Murdock & Page. But hey, I guess in a… morbid(?) sickly? depressed? way, it did work out in the end. Business was pretty much booming, especially now that everyone who blipped was trying to get their homes or anything else they own back under their names and care. Now, not to toot their own horns, but they say they’re pretty good at multitasking. 

Until…

They weren’t.

As they get busier with each passing day, the trio realizes that they’re stretching themselves so far thin that it’s starting to affect them. So after some intense conversations, they decided to hire a helping hand.

Y/N L/N. 

Their new assistant that was just shy of seventeen and on her way to graduating high school. She was nervous, of course, when they first met her, but the nerves soon settled and she turned out to be a very charming person that they all agree they loved to have in the office. She was extremely helpful and willing to learn, always on her toes when they needed something, always organized and had everything ready when they had a case or a client coming in. None of them could ask for a better person in the position. Even though the girl was… 

Well…

Kind of quirky.

Like she always prefers it cold, no matter what the temperature is. Karen notices she was barely wearing anything when they first met. It was in the middle of winter, and the girl was just wearing an oversize sweatshirt and a thin beanie. At first a bit of a motherly instinct took over and wondered if the poor girl just didn’t have anything to wear at home, or maybe couldn’t afford anything. Y/N eventually apologized and laughed saying that she just prefers this weather more than the heat. But despite that, Karen did gift her a warmer coat that the teen decided to wear (even if it felt forced).

.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that Miss Page.” Y/N said once she was handed over the nice coat. 

“Please, I insist. I know you said you like the cold, but I would rather not see you sick.” Karen said, as the girl smiles and nods, promising to wear it until Spring.

.

Then it was the food. Now, Franklin Percy “Foggy” Nelson loved to eat just like any other person out there. But if there was an eating competition to suddenly spawn inside his office he would surely lose to his assistant. The kid was… a freaking bottomless pit. Just as Karen had suspected Y/N might be on the poor side, Foggy thought the same when he brought take out for lunch and the kid nearly ate everything on the table. She did it in a mannerful way but still (He’s surprised she didn’t inhale the table). So out of worriedness he started bringing her lunch, and the one day he forgot, she brought her own “five course” meal of sandwiches and sides.

.

“Maybe… she’s just a growing kid.” Karen once said as he shook his head.

“Don’t girls go through puberty early? There’s no way Y/N’s still growing.” He boasted as the blonde tried another excuse that he shot down quickly. “Nope! Matt! Can’t you tell?”

“Foggy, Matt is not about to smell nor hear if the poor girl is going through puberty!”

“Karen, come on–”

“NO!!”

.

The conversation ended up being wrapped up and placed in the back of the shelf for now, but occasionally it’ll come up when the girl polishes off something huge by herself (And everytime Karen proceeds to hit Foggy over the head with her shoe as Matt tries not to laugh).

Then there was the human lie detector, Matt Murdock and his tales of Miss L/N. When he first met her of course he was a little on edge, I mean he was still learning to not leave his guard up all the time after promising Foggy and Karen he was going to do better and be trustworthy. The girl was nervous during the interview, but managed to win over their hearts about halfway through yet…

Matt couldn’t shake what his senses were picking up.

On her first day of work she seemed cool as a cucumber, nothing to worry about. However her heartbeat was… strange. It was pulsing like any other healthy human being, but there were times where it would randomly accelerate. Like she would just be stapling papers together and it would pick up speed like a racehorse. A few times he feared she was having a heart attack before it went away. 

The other thing he notices, and to follow Karen’s observation, the girl does tend to run rather hot. And when she does she would either shed off an extra layer or turn the tiny fan on her desk in the middle of a snow storm. 

.

Hmm, maybe she’s just a natural furnace. He told himself once, recalling that his father was someone who always seemed to stay warm (but even he wasn’t crazy enough to go outside half dressed in -10 degree weather).

.

Then lastly, he realizes the girl likes to talk to herself quietly. At first he thought maybe she had an earbud in and was talking to someone, or maybe she was mouthing the lyrics of a song but… no. Sometimes it’s even hard for him to pick up what she’s saying ‘cause she’s so quiet, but the couple times he does hear her it sounds like she’s scolding herself.

.

Matt tilts his head, slightly zoning out on the conversation him and his partners were having as Y/N was in their kitchenette. From the smell of it she was making herself coffee and muttering and even jerking at something or someone that wasn’t even there.

“Shut up, I’m not eating that– No I’m not– You’re not either.” He hears her eye roll and almost sighs. “You’re not going to die, stop being a baby– Don’t call me the baby, you numbnut– Hey, you fucking bastard, I’ll–”

And then he kind of tuned out when he noticed Foggy was asking him a question.

.

A million different scenarios went through his head of what it could be. One that he’s just sticking with right now is she’s just a very imaginary kid. The other lingering thoughts weren’t so innocent. Someone’s home life could affect certain things. Maybe it’s–

“So what shall we do to celebrate?” Foggy said out of the blue in the present day. The sun was out shining, the weather was cool and just right, everything was blooming peacefully just as Spring should be. The blond looked between the two perplexed adults before gasping. “Don’t tell me you all forgot?”

Karen glanced in Matt’s direction, lost as well. “Uh, remind us again?” She asked, sheepishly.

“Oh, come on guys! It’s our anniversary!” He throws his hands in the air. “This marks the full year of the grand reopening of Nelson, Murdock & Page!”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses in surprise. “Is it April 24th already?”

“Yeah! A full year, baby! We fucking did it! We brought this extinct beast of a place back to life.” Foggy exclaims, making Karen laugh. “We need to celebrate.”

“And how so, Mr. Nelson?” The woman asked, curious to what he had to say.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Maybe a nice dinner and a club.”

“Aren’t we too old for clubbing?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Who says that?”

“Says the guy who pulled his hamstring running up the stairs.” Matt quips with a grin, as Karen hides another laugh in her hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Half-Joking.” Then he perks up. “Y/N is here.”

“Already?” Foggy looks at his watch. “She’s really early.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Karen asked, mother henning again. “Matt?”

“I’m not picking up on anything.” The blind lawyer replies, truthfully. “She’s coming. Relax.”

The teenager opens the door, her usual blouse and skirt with her backpack on her shoulder. She looked like she was in thought as she greets them with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Matt and Karen greet in unison as Foggy cracks the ice.

“Hey, Y/N/N. You’re early.” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. My building’s power went off and I couldn’t cook anything so I just went to a diner. Guess I overestimated how much time I needed to eat.” She replies, her heart steady. “Is it okay if I start early?”

“That’s fine, there’s probably not much to do though.” Matt says, as she sets her stuff down on her desk.

“Whatever you got I’ll do.”

Foggy’s concern washes away and goes back to his bubbly self. “Are you free tonight, Y/N?”

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Well, today marks our anniversary of getting this place up and running again and we want to celebrate with maybe dinner at least. Our treat.”

“Dinner?” The teenager looks concerned. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to tag along? I’m just your assistant.”

“Nah, don’t use that talk.” He waves her off. “You’ve helped us a lot these past few months. You’re one of us. Right, guys?”

“Of course she is.” Karen said, her red lips curling upwards. “We would be all over the place if you hadn’t helped organize when we got so overwhelmed.”

“And customers are always complimenting you on how wonderful you are with them.” Matt adds, making the teenager blush.

“Yeah, kiddo. You’re great.” Foggy says, throwing his arm around her with pride. “Keep this up for a few more months and… maybe we’ll add your name to the plaque.” 

She laughed. “Your business will officially be a mouthful to remember.”

“Hey, it was mouthful before Karen came in, we might as well keep rolling with it.” He shrugs. “So what do you say? Dinner at least?”

“I can do dinner.”

“Fantastic! Where shall we go?”

And that was pretty much the only thing they talked about for the rest of the day.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Are you sure this is the right address?” Foggy asked for the third time tonight as he hitched along for the ride. He was the person you called a… backseat driver (but he has every right to do so at this point).

“Yes, Foggy. I’m just following the directions on my phone.” Karen replies, slightly irritated, but also a little bit worried (like she’ll admit that to him just yet).

“‘Cause this is a really bad neighbourhood.”

“I know, Foggy.”

“Is it really that bad?” Matt asked, after listening to his surroundings. He didn’t really hear that much going on outside the vehicle.

“It’s… extremely sketchy.” Foggy says, with a sigh. “It’s like one of those places they tell you not to go after dark.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah, and we close pretty late. Do we really make Y/N walk through this?”

Matt’s eyebrows raise up, amusement on his face. “Sounds like someone’s going to be her chauffeur soon.”

“Don’t tempt me, Matthew. I’d consider. Or we all pitch in and buy her a car.”

“Sure she knows how to drive?”

“Or better question–” Karen cuts in while making another turn. “Maybe you should talk to her parents first about this concern before we start gifting our assistant with stuff? Maybe she’s not allowed to have a car? Or even to drive?”

“What seventeen year old isn’t allowed to drive?” Foggy asked, confused.

“I mean, I wasn’t allowed to drive at all until I was an adult.”

“What? Why?”

“Foggy I was what you called uh… ‘wild child’, I’m not exactly a saint you know.”

Foggy sighs and flicks his attention to the backseat. “Matt, would you have driven a car if you could?”

“Who says I haven’t?” The blind man replies with a grin that made Foggy not want to question it.

The blond man throws his hands up. “I give up. Naysayers, all of you.”

“What are we ‘naysaying’?” Karen asked, with a chuckle.

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Oh my god.” She shakes her head and parks the car along the curb. Just as she was about to snatch her phone off the dash, a report came up. She quickly reads over the headline and frowns. “Hey, did you hear about those people who disappeared a few days ago? Rumors saying they were special forces?”

“The ones that were going door to door down on 36th?” Matt asked, hearing about it on the news and even word about it at night. Even some criminals he ran into that night thought it was strange and found them suspicious. 

“Yeah, those. Apparently they just turned up. Parts of them.”

Foggy’s face scrunched up. “Ew.”

“Someone hacked them up?” Matt asked, worried about a possible new killer on the loose.

“The strange thing is, no. From what it says here it looks like their limbs were chewed off.”

Foggy made a gagging noise now. “Ugh. Great. Now we have a cannibal in the Kitchen. That’s just great–” He opens the car door. “More reasons to get Y/N a car.” His friends shake their heads and get out also.

“You know, you’ll make a great father one day.” Matt says, getting the middle finger.

The three of them buzzed themselves into the building, going up to the second floor to the third apartment in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the apartment Foggy shared with his fiancée, but it was definitely on the same level as Matt’s: -Not-in-the-safest-of-places-and-was-the-“cheapest”-on-the-block- They definitely felt wary of wearing their nice and expensive clothes out here.

Karen was the one who knocked and got a response.

“She’s alone.” Matt said afterwards, getting the woman to check her watch.

“I guess her parents work the nightshift?” Foggy said, slightly worried. They didn’t get the chance to talk about it when the door swings open. The teenager opens up a nice, simple purple dress paired with a blue jean jacket and flats.

She smiles. “Hope you found the place okay.” She replies, greeting them and locking their door behind her. “Seriously, you guys didn’t have to drive to get me.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” Karen says, honestly.

“Are we still planning on dinner?”

“Of course. You hungry?” Matt asked, making her laugh out of embarrassment.

“Heck yeah, I am.” She said, making them giggle.

“Well then, after you, Ladies.” He gestures for them to go first.

“Oh, such a gentleman.” Karen replies, starting the trek off, smiling and pulling their assistant along for the ride.  

They started chit chatting about the place they were going to go, Foggy boasting about how good the food was the last time he went (Now frank that was pre-blipped, so fingers crossed it’s still as good as back then). As they started descending down the stairs, Matt’s cane unfortunately got caught into a hole that was forming in the wood and was falling forward. To his surprise, Y/N was the one to react extremely quickly and place her hand on his chest to stop his fall.

“Shit, you okay?” She said, as he regained his balance from her strength.

“Uh, I’m…” And then he trails off when he catches a whiff, the smell of dried blood just beneath her fingertips. The chilling part of this was that it was NOT her blood. He swallows, and forces a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the catch.”

She frowns apologetically. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you about the stairs. They’ve been falling apart for a while. If you stay to the left you’ll miss most of them.”

“Noted.” And then they continued again with Matt being careful…

.

.

.

And it was not just about the stairs.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Sure I can eat anything?” Y/N asked, as she scanned the menu over again.

“Of course, our treat.” Karen reassures for the hundredth time.

“I know it’s your treat, and I appreciate it. But–” She flips the menu towards them. “Have you seen the dollar signs for this place?”

“Well, I can’t exactly ‘see’ anything.” Matt replies, feeling his assistant give him ‘the look’. He hoped he sounded sarcastic and not rude (he was trying to push away what he smelled earlier and enjoy the night (And not be a paranoid freak again).

“Mr. Murdock–”

“Matt, kiddo.” Foggy says, lightly tapping her shoulder. “How many times did we tell you you can drop the formalities? It’s been months.”

Y/N blushes. “Sorry, habit.” She replies, only to mumble something under her breath two seconds later that everyone kind of ignored. “I’ll shut up and figure out what to eat.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The group eventually ordered their food and soon slipped into a nice conversation. Between some fun exchanges between the law trio or funny memories from their childhoods, it eventually led to laughter.

“I never realized how big your family was, Foggy.” Y/N said, intrigued by the chaos of the Nelson family.

“And I swear it just keeps growing. It’s a little baseball team at this point.” He replies, smiling.

“Does anyone else have a sibling?”

“I had a brother, but he’s passed.” Karen explains, with a sad smile.

“Only child.” Matt replies, with a head tilt.

“What about you, Y/N? Any siblings?”

She shakes her head. “Just myself. I kind of wish I had a sibling though. It does get lonely at home sometimes.”

“Well… it’s not too late to ask your parents for one.” Foggy jokes, half heartedly; It causes Matt to nearly spit out his drink, Karen scolding him and Y/N chuckling behind her hand. “Don’t kill me! It’s just a joke.”

“Franklin Nelson.” Karen warns like she was his nagging mother, and kicks his shin.

“Ouch, Karen, geez.”

Y/N smiles, amused. “I don’t mind, really.”

“But still, most people I meet here want more than one kid. I’m actually surprised you’re an only child, Y/N.” Matt said, being honest, which suddenly got her heart rate to pick up, but not in the racehorse kind of way he had been hearing. The teenager had stayed quiet for a moment before she shrugged, trying to shake it, or them, off.

“My mom’s not really in the picture anymore, not for a long time actually. I just really have my dad, but he’s always working. So, to be honest, I’m on my own. I don’t think he even realizes I have a job.” She replies, taking the last sip of her drink while avoiding eye contact. She could feel the concerned stares on her making her feel uncomfortable.

“Y/N, that’s not right.” Karen said, worriedly.

“It’s… fine. I’m used to it, you know?”

“Just because you’re fine with it, doesn’t mean it is.” Foggy replies, brows pushed together, distress wrinkles forming. “You know, if something’s up or wrong, you can tell us anything. We’re here for you, you know?”

“Not everything though…” She said, frowning (Her heartbeat picking up again, which was enough for Matt to start questioning what she actually means).

Just before anything else could be said, the waiter came over to drop off their refills and took the empty appetizer plate away. “Your food will be out shortly.” He said, and they thanked him.

“Man, I’m starving. The wait better be worth it.” Foggy said, after a second.

“I know, right? I know it’s been awhile, but I don’t remember it taking this long.” Karen admits, stirring the lemon around in her ice tea.

Y/N starts to take a sip of her new drink and pauses, like halted to an immediate stop. Matt picks the way her whole demeanor changes from nervousness to anger, and mutters, “It’s coke. It’s fine…”

What are you hiding, Y/N? Matt wonders as he takes a sip of his own beverage, worried out of his mind for what could be happening to her. What was happening at home that you didn’t even want to talk about it? 

But as soon as that red wine tickled down his throat he immediately knew something was wrong.

He couldn’t even taste it or smell it, but he knew there was something mixed inside that wasn’t supposed to be in there.

He immediately feels all his remaining senses start to go wack and before he could even say a word, Y/N beat him to it.

“Hey! We have to throw up!” She says, shooting up to her wobbly feet. “The drinks were–”

And then she proceeded to crash back into her chair, her face falling onto her dining mat. Karen calls out her name before passing out as well.

“Uh… M-Matt…?” Foggy calls out, struggling to stay awake. “W-what just…”

Matt hears him render unconscious as well and tries to fight it off the best he could, but he knew it was useless when his whole body started to grow numb, and he cussed under his breath from it.

.

.

.

And the last thing he sensed was their waiter standing over their table smiling like the cheshire cat.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When the four of them came to, they all had splitting headaches that made it almost hard to even realize where they were. Tied to individual chairs and under some “interrogation” lighting in some strange, seemingly unknown, building.

“Ugh… where are we?” Karen asked, looking around with a slight squint.

“Warehouse district.” Matt replies, after a split second of analyzing. “I recognized the smell.”

Foggy clears his throat before whispering, “Uh, Matty, might not want to out yourself to our assistant here yet.”

The blind vigilante completely forgot that Y/N didn’t know his secret and held his tongue. Luckily, it seems like she was preoccupied with her worries, making some weird faces only two people present could see. Well… maybe a third now because some random ass man wearing what looks like tactical equipment (minus its helmet) comes in through a door.

Baldy (yeah we’re calling him that) looks disgusted and rather annoyed to even be here, as he stands before each of them before spewing, “Where is it?” 

Yeah, no ‘Hi’, ‘Hello’, or ‘Good Afternoon’, just straight to the fucking point that nobody even knows what it’s about. 

The adults looked at each other, going into overprotective mode.

“Who are you?” Matt asked, ready to start listening for clues (and silently try to get out of his restraints).

“Not any of your business.”

“Why are we here? Why did you need us?”

Baldy said nothing, instead directing his attention to the bound teenager. “Where is it?”

Y/N blinks, clearly confused. “Where is what?”

“The thing.”

Another blink. “What thing?”

His jaw clenches, irritated. “The thing you stole from us.”

She scoffs. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“For fuck’s sake–”

“What is going on?” Foggy cuts in, bitterly. 

“Who are you people?” Karen asked, same expression as his.

“The people who want our stuff back.” Baldy replies, shrilly too. “Our boss has been desperately looking for it ever since it went missing. We know she has it.”

“How do you know she took it?” Karen asked, maternal mode kicking in once more and ready to throw hands if necessary (I mean, did this guy even have any evidence?).

“Her school was required to go on a field trip to our company, and soon after, our… subject disappeared and we know one of those kids took it. Took us a while, but we finally tracked down who it was.” He jabs his finger at the girl. “You.”

“Y/N–” The blonde woman looks her way.

“Subject?” Matt asked, turning the interrogation around. He feels everyones’ gazes on him now as he tries analyzing the situation. “First you say ‘thing’ and now you say ‘subject’. Are you saying Y/N stole a person?”

“Matt–” Foggy warns under his breath, urging him to tread carefully.

“I wouldn’t call it a person.” Baldy said, feeling the blind man’s intense stare.

“Then what is it again?”

“Matt–” Karen tries now.

Baldy holds his tongue. “Listen, Blindly–”

“So what’s this ‘subject’ Y/N supposedly stole?” Matt pressured, feeling the man’s blood spike.

“You need–” He pulls his gun out. “To shut the fuck up.”

“Matt!/Hey!” Karen and Foggy yelled in unison, their racing hearts pouncing in their friend’s ears. But the Murdock stays as calm as he could be, tuning them out to focus on the gun on hand.

“I would hold that spicy tongue of yours, and let ME do the talking.” Baldy continues, getting silence as an answer. “Good. Now–” He redirects the barrel at the teenager. “Talk.”

Y/N’s eyes widened just as the adults started yelling again.

“Hey!” Matt snarled, thinking the gun was going to be trained on him the whole time. He tries giving the most intimidating look he could muster with his blind orbs showing. “Don’t fucking point that at her.”

“Yeah! You really gonna kill a kid?!” Foggy snaps, getting the man’s attention.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Karen adds, making Baldy’s eye twitch at their comments.

“Listen, motherfuckers.” He snaps, a craze look on his face. “I will do whatever needs to be done. If that includes bathing my hands in red, then so be it.”

She shakes her head, furious. “You’re a sick, twisted, human being, you–”

“I’m sorry…” Y/N blurted out of the blue, suddenly looking really pale and distant. Her boss unknowingly hears her heart start picking up like a rabbit, and her blood pressure starts spiking (not to mention she was starting to run like a furnace).

Badly looks her way again and scoffs. “What? You scared?”

“Not of you, but for you.” She swallows. “You really might not want to point the gun at me, it’s upsetting him.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Upsetting who?”

“You need to leave.” She pleads, her (Y/E/C) eyes starting to change to an odd color.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seriously, leave, please–”

He starts to sweat and presses the gun into her head more. “What are you fucking talking about?!”

“Leave! He’s–” Then her body stood stiff, and her fingers started to twitch, and then… her voice got super deep. “I’m pissed off.”

The trio widened their eyes at how scary and inhuman she sounded, which was enough for Baldy to start panicking, thinking of the worst. 

“Enough with the theatrics!!” He snapped, trying to regain control. “I’m–” 

And then nobody expected this next.

If you told anyone you were going to watch the girl get engulfed in black goo, and a monstrous face to form in her place then they wouldn’t just bat an eye and walk away because it sounded like insanity.

It became even more insane when the face suddenly bit the man’s forearm off clean and swallowed it whole, along with the hand pistol.

An ear piercing scream erupted from the back of his throat as blood pooled from his remaining limb. He stumbled backwards as the substance from her body disappeared, Y/N reacting with a look of horror on her own features.

“Oh, my god!!” She screamed. “Oh, my god! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!!”

“What the fuck!!!” He yelled back, baffled just like everyone else in the room.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!! I told him not to do it! He never listens!! I–” 

Then a black tentacle comes out of her skin and whips the man into a wall, causing another scream from her and even the trio. The adults could only just watch/listen to it unfold, no clue to what’s happening.

“Oh, my god– Fuck!!” Y/N says, shutting her eyes shut tightly like she was in pain. “I told you not to do that!! Why did you– Ah!!”

Her bosses watch as her body stiffens again, eyes glassing back over to purple before slowly fading to white. Then, the tentacles came back out to smash the chair she was in, bringing her to her knees. The goo was started to cover her form again, prompting her to ask the question,

“Venom… What are you– Saving your life. And theirs too.” 

Then the door bursts open again, this time with a crowd of other people dressed just like Baldy, except that had a little more artillery. Suddenly, the trio watches as Y/N jumped and dangled from the ceiling, the red lasers immediately pinpointing on her.

“FIRE!!” Someone shouted, and the bullets started flying.

Then their little assistant disappears again, replaced by the face with big white eyes and a wide mouth full of spike, and a tongue that was licking its lips with delight from the bullets ricocheting off of him. Karen screamed at the sound, and they all buried their faces into their shoulders for protection just as the beast let out its battle cry.

It started crawling faster towards the crowd, hunger in its face before it suddenly stopped halfway. The beast let out a huge sigh, muttering, “Fine.”

It then started grabbing whatever it could get a hold of and fling it towards them like a game of extreme darts. One by one they started to fall, one by one they were getting broken ribs and blacking out, one by one they were–

Then a flash grenade was suddenly underneath it and exploded.

The beast roared in pain from the sound, the goo vibrating and then dissolving at the snap of fingers, causing the teenager to resurface and fall to the floor. 

Matt definitely heard her ankle snap from the fall despite his own ears ringing, and called out her name. The girl cries out, and hugs her leg as she squeezes her eyes shut to block the tears from flowing. Just as the noise started to settle, it was about to become a whole lot worse. Just as the last remaining attacker was about to shoot the poor girl dead, with Karen and Foggy shouting their pleas, the vigilante managed to to unloosen the last knot from his wrist, springing to his feet and chucking the chair straight at him.

Matt lets out a breath he was holding before his instincts kicked in again. He quickly unties Foggy from his chair, saying, “Get Karen.”

“Right.”

He sprints over to the girl, getting down to her level. “Y/N?”

She lets out a groan, cracking open her eyes, slight shock upon seeing him. “M-Matt?”

“Hold still, I’ll pick you up.”

“H-How did you get out? Or throw a chair so accurately?”

Well shit. 

He really wasn’t thinking about his secret ID at that moment. Just the thought of making sure his assistant wasn’t going to die on his watch.

He bites his lip. “Y/N, I’m–” His gaze snaps towards the door where he could hear footsteps approaching. A lot of them. “Shit. There’s more. We have to–”

“I-I have to get you out.” She croaks, rolling herself to be on all four. “It’s my fault you’re involved in this.”

“Y/N, you broke your ankle, you can’t do anything else.”

“But…” She groans again and then slowly lobs her head in his direction, a smug tugged across her lips. “But I insist, Mr. Murdock.”

And before he could say a word, the beast reappeared and lifted him straight off his feet, along with Karen and Foggy who yelped in surprise. Suddenly they found themselves running at an incredible speed, prayers leaving their mouths just as they broke through a window and free falled down.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Not even sure where they ended up but it was completely unoccupied and covered by the shadows of the night. The beast had set the weathered adults down against the wall before doing the same; the body disappearing back to the teeanger who fell right on her bum. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes like she did earlier, trying to hold the pain in.

“Oh, my god, Y/N, your ankle.” Karen manages to say once the shock ran out (And that was for a while).

Y/N smacks her lips, grinding her teeth, replying, “I-It’s fine. It’ll be fine in a minute. I advise not looking.”

“What do you mean?” Foggy asked, eating his words as he witnessed her ankle snapping right back into place causing him to gag and avert his gaze. “Oh, hell…”

“T-Told ya.” She mutters and then sighs. 

Silence fell over them, the trio all kind of looking at one another before deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room. Or whatever that thing was.

Foggy clears his throat, shifting his weight around. “So…”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said, opening her eyes and looking at them with guilt. “I… I never wanted you guys to see that.”

“Well, I can see why.” He mumbles, getting a smack in the shoulder by Karen. “Ow!”

“So what is it?” Matt asked, straight to the point and curious, actually (and concerned too now that he’s realized this girl’s got no control over whatever it is). 

Another sigh as Y/N pushes herself to stand. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. I don’t know.” She crosses her arm uncomfortably. “I went on a mandatory field trip for school to this lab, and… some of my classmates begged me to go ‘behind the scenes’ with them. I honestly didn’t know what to expect, except that the only thing back there was this container with a tiny blob in it.” 

She frowns. “One thing led to another and it broke, but I had no idea that… this blob got absorbed into me.” She throws one of her hands up. “I honestly thought I was going crazy for several days when I could hear shit in my head, and when my appetite went through the roof. And then…”

“Then… what?” Matt said, sensing her discomfort.

“I got mugged. Well… attempted mugging until… Venom came out.”

“Venom?” Karen asked, eyebrow raised.

“That’s… what he calls himself. The thing you saw.” Y/N starts nervously playing with her hands. “Anyway, the mugger didn’t do much since– you know– uh…”

“Let me guess, he bit the guy’s arm off?” Foggy says, as she shrugs.

“More like… above the neck…” Then she gets the shocked stares again. “Okay, in my defense, I have no control over that. I didn’t even know that Venom attached himself to me. I…” She groans. “I just ran away after that! I didn’t know what to–” She then pauses like she is listening.. “You what? – You finished him off?”

Now it was her turn to have her pupils blown wide. “When? I don’t remember you doing that? – You did it when I was asleep?! – Oh, ho! That is not consensual whatsoever! We talked about this!” She scowls. “No, you quit complaining, you parasite!”

Y/N groans again, this time into her hands. “Ugh! He’s so annoying sometimes!”

“This is the strangest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.” Foggy said, running a hand through his locks. “And aliens attacked New York.”

“Technically, Venom’s an alien.”

“Oh, my god.” He holds the sides of his head. “It’s ‘Invasion of The Body Snatchers’.”

“Foggy.” Karen tries to get him to calm down.

“So you just decided to live with this… Venom guy?” Matt asked, not really sure how to ‘perfectly’ respond to this situation. I mean for the many years he’s fought in Hell’s Kitchen, he’s never experienced something like this before.

“It’s kind of hard to get rid of him. He’s… persistent, I’ll give you that.” Y/N replies, with a small smile. “If I’m being honest, it was around the time you guys accepted me for an interview. I was more worried about acing that than dealing with a vicious conscience.” Then it fades. “Homelife not exactly… easy, so I guess it was nice to have someone to talk to. In a crazy kind of way.” A sigh. “I had no idea that he was important.”

“Are you going to give him back now that you know?” Karen asked, worried at what might come if she doesn’t.

“That’s the thing, If I give him back, they know who I am, and you saw what happened tonight. They’ll kill me no matter what.”

“Like hell I’m going to let that happen to you.” Matt says, confidently as he places a gentle hand on her shoulder (he could hear her pulse spiking at what she had said). “We’re going to figure this out. Don’t you worry, Y/N.”

She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Then don’t ask me.”

“You almost got hurt because of me! I’m not letting you put your life on the line for me. I can figure this out on my own.”

“Y/N, I’m a lawyer, you should know by now I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer easily.” His lips tug upwards, trying to make the best reassuring look he could make. “I’m going to help you–”

“We’ll help you.” Karen corrected.

“Yeah. We’ll help you, don’t you worry.” Matt faces his old roommate. “How long’s Marci out of town for?”

“Uh, next week. Six days to be exact.” Foggy says, after quick thinking.

“Good. We don’t have to worry about her safety.” Matt goes quiet, using his senses to figure out where they are before they move. “Alright, let’s go to my place.” He gestures for everyone to follow, his friends were, but not his assistant who was perplexed.

“Wait.” She blurts out, stopping them. “Shouldn’t we try finding somewhere else? It might not be smart to go to your own home.”

“It’s fine. It’s where we need to be for our next step.”

“Next step?” She asks, watching him start walking away again. “Which is…?”

.

.

.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

(TBC)

Stay tune for the next parts! || Part Two || Part Three

-Taglist is Open-

@indestructeible @mirkwoodshewolf @aew-kun-age-regression @nerds4life246

[kdogreads]

As You Wish

Dean X reader smut

TW: rough sex, oral (female- receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink; not really sure what else so please let me know if I need to add anything

Word count: 1700-ish

A/N: I haven't done this in forever so let me know of any typos or anything! Please enjoy! ;)

—————————————————

The three of you pulled into the run-down motel late after driving for hours to get to your latest case. You usually shared one room together and took turns sleeping on the pull-out couch. Sam, being the gentleman he was, would typically insist you just stay in the bed and that he'll be fine on the couch. Only if he was desperately tired would he actually let you take the squeaky, paper-thin cot. Dean, on the other hand, had no issue claiming a bed and keeping it for himself as long as you stayed there. Truth is, you didn't mind Dean's attitude towards you. He treated you just like an extra hand to hold a flashlight or a shotgun, which you were perfectly content with. Ever since that demon killed your parents, Sam treated you like a paper doll, afraid if he breathed too hard you'd rip apart into the wind. His intentions were kind, but you wanted to just feel normal again. Dean's overall indifference towards you at least feel like an adult instead of a child needing protected.

Dean returned from the motel office with a key and one complimentary water bottle. High-class establishment this place was. You and Sam climbed out of the classic car and began grabbing your bags out of the trunk.

“I’m gonna head to that gas station a few miles back for some snacks and stuff,” Sam began. “Want anything, (Y/N)?”

“Pie!" Dean shouted from the bathroom as the shower turned on. Sam smiled and shook his head at his predictable brother.

“Just some granola and fruit for me please,” You requested through your smile. “Oh, and some of those little breakfast sandwiches if they have them, please!”

“No problem, (Y/N). Be back in a few.“

Sam shut the door behind him and you began unpacking your small supply of jeans, t-shirts and flannels into the beat-up dresser across from your bed for the night. The shower finally turned off and you couldn't wait to wash the hours of travel off your body.

Dean came walking out of the cloud of steam that now filled the small bathroom wearing only a scratchy-looking white towel. Not that you hadn't seen him like this before, but he looked extra good right now. Like, jump on him right now good. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to see what happened. Maybe Dean would-

“(Y/N),” Dean's rough voice startled you out of your thoughts. “Shower's all yours. There should be plenty of hot water left for ya.”

“ Oh, thanks Dean. How generous of you.” You rolled your eyes at the older Winchester's comment and headed into the old bathroom.

A hot shower was exactly what you needed right now. A reset from the long drive and a chance to relieve your pent-up sexual frustration. The Winchester brothers were just your work colleagues, of course, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't spent many nights wondering what would happen if you and Dean were left alone. Without Sam hearing. Without any consequences looming..

“(Y/n)!” Banging at the now-shut bathroom door made you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Jesus, Dean! What?!” you shouted back.

“ I left my belt in there. Can you hand it to me?”

You looked at the sink and spotted the worn leather belt on the counter. Without thinking, you grab it and swing the door open only to be greeted by a glistening muscular chest inches from your face. It's only when you lift your wide y/e/c eyes to meet the glowing green ones in front of you that you remember you have nothing on but a black lace bra and matching underwear.

“Thanks- Woah.” Dean's full lips paused in a small”o,” drawing out his reaction.

“God, (y/n), you are stunning.” You locked your eyes on his and furrowed your brows together in confusion.

“Wh- what do you mean?”

Dean’s lustful eyes looked you up and down as his tongue slowly poked out to lick his lower lip. “You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He whispered, feeling his warm breath on your face.

You both stood there a moment longer, as if you were in shock at the sight in front you. Dean’s jaw twitched slightly as he slowly drew his hand up to touch the soft skin under your ear, pushing your flowing y/h/c hair back. You ran your own hand gently up his toned forearm to land on his broad shoulder. A small step forward closed the gap between your increasingly more eager bodies as you felt Dean’s breathing speed up. His other hand made its way to your hip.

“Do you want me to stop?” Dean slowly closed his hand around the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head back slightly.

“No, don’t stop,” you practically panted, trying not to sound too desperate.

“Are you sure, (y/n)? Just say the word and I’ll stop.” Dean’s intense demand for consent somehow made the warmth between your thighs grow even hotter. Hunters aren’t always the most considerate lovers, after all.

“Dean,” you breathed out, “kiss me.”

Before you could even inhale again, Dean’s lips crashed against yours. His hungry kisses literally taking your breath away. He stepped forward, pinning you between him and the countertop behind you. Two rough hands grabbed either side of your hips and lifted onto the sink.

Your kisses became more intense and desperate. Dean’s tongue forced its way into your mouth and dominated yours while he started working on the clasp on your bra. The thin lace garment fell to the floor and Dean sucked in sharply.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time, (y/n).”

He worked his way down your jaw, chin, neck. Peppering soft kisses and small bites all the way down. You’d certainly have bruises by the time he was done, but you didn’t care. The way he made you feel with only his mouth was intoxicating.

His lips landed on your left breast, his tongue circling your sensitive nipple, while his other hand worked on kneading and pulling the right one in all the right directions. His teeth dragging between all your sensitive spots made you grow wetter and wetter.

“Dean,” you finally managed between moans and sharp breaths, “Dean.” The way his name sounded coming out of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

“Tell me what you want,” Dean growled into your skin, kissing his way back up to your neck.

“Fuck me, Dean. Please,” you panted into his mouth, pulling his face to yours. Your nails dragged across his back.

“Please, what?” He kept kissing your lips and back to your neck while he tugged on the waistband of your panties.

“Please daddy. Please fuck me, daddy.”

Dean let out a soft chuckle and a devilish smile grew across his face. “As you wish, sweetheart.” Your hips bucked in anticipation at his words.

“But not yet.”

You let out a low whine, desperate for Dean to be inside you.

“Patience, baby,” he drew out his words as he worked his way down your body with his mouth. He only paused to hook your panties with his fingers while you lifted yourself slightly off the sink, enough for Dean to rip them off and discard them on the floor.

“So wet for me already,” working his hands around your shivering thighs, taking in the view of your slick folds in front of him, “Such a good girl,” he breathed.

You let out a loud, “Fuck,” as he dove into your dripping core mouth first. He licked several wide stripes up your folds before finding your clit and circling his tongue hungrily around it. Your hands found his hair and grabbed two handfuls of it. You slammed one hand onto the countertop as you felt an orgasm already approaching. Dean must have felt your muscles tense up so he quickened his pace, sliding a thick finger in between your folds, adding to the growing pressure in your core.

“Fuck, Dean. I-I’m so close,” You barely could spit the words out as he continued pumping his finger at a steady pace, now adding a second and curling them so perfectly inside you.

“That’s right, baby. Let go for me,” he growled into you, sucking on your clit between the words. “Cum for daddy.”

Just then, the building tension broke inside you. Everything went white around you as you rode the shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You felt your head fall back against the mirror behind you while Dean continued steadily reaching your sweet spot, working you through your high. He slowed his pace and pulled his fingers out only as your body began to relax again, muscles worn by the intense shock of pleasure. He drew his fingers to your mouth, allowing you to suck your sweetness off.

“That’s all it takes to make you cum all over me, (y/n)? God, you’re eager for daddy,” Dean sucks in a sharp breath as you slide his fingers almost down your throat.

“Beginner’s luck,” you hiss out with a smirk, placing hungry kisses on Dean’s hand, wrist, forearm.

“Oh, baby,” Dean begins as his large hand suddenly jerks to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your face to his. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

Dean yanks just a bit harder on your hair as he lines his rock-hard cock up with your entrance. You can’t help but gasp as he slowly fills you with his impressive size. His hand drops to your throat and pushes you firmly against the mirror behind your back, mixing pleasure with pain in a euphoric way. Slowly pulling out, he plunges back into you, faster this time, and with more force.

“Such a tight little pussy,” his hands both grabbing your hips, slamming his body into yours now. “God, (y/n), you feel so good.”

You claw at his back, desperately trying to hold on to any sense of direction you had left. Dean’s strong thrusts were sending you spinning from reality. He lifts you up slightly and plows into your sweet spot over and over again. You close your eyes as the white hotness of another orgasm takes over your body. Your toes curl behind Dean’s back as his eyes scan over your shaking body, aching to see exactly what he does to you.

Something resembling a moan escapes your lips as you ride out the final waves of pleasure. Dean pulls your mouth to his as if his life depended on tasting your tongue.

“Please, daddy,” you pant into his mouth, “Please cum for me, daddy.”

A groan escapes from deep within Dean’s chest as his pace begins to waver for the first time. The sounds of skin slapping together and labored breathing echo in your ears. Dean’s frantic and increasingly forceful thrusts cause the tension to build in your core again. Your walls tighten around his pounding cock and cause an explosion of warmth to spill out inside you. Dean wraps his arms around your waist and growls out incoherently something like, “fuck,” and “good girl,” while you ride out your waves of ectasy together.

He pulls himself slowly out of you, as if trying to take in every single feeling, and grabs either side of your face to pull you into a warm, passionate kiss. His emerald eyes linger on yours as both of your breathing begins to return to normal.

He steps away only to turn on the shower for you and offer a hand down from the sink. Your legs wobble a bit as you regain your balance.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, (y/n),” Dean’s voice boomed over the sound of the water running, his hand reaching again for the skin just below your ear.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you stand on your toes to kiss Dean one more time.

“Same here, cowboy,” you breathe into his mouth.

“Cowboy?” Dean chuckled, “Next time, I’ll show you a cowboy.”

Next time??

Dean steps away, pausing to grab his boxers, blue jeans, and belt — that damn belt — and plants a firm smack on your ass. You smile and raise an eyebrow in response.

As he steps out of the bathroom door you hear Sam yell, “Ah, dude! What the hell!?”

“It’s okay, Sammy. It’s a natural, beautiful thing to see a fine male specimen like me in all its glory-“

You slam the door behind him and let out a full laugh.

You just opened a whole new can of worms, but you can’t wait to see what happens next time.

[themolldollincident]

Remote Control Series Part 2

They take you to the store and make you their little doll in the frozen aisle. Thanks to the collar, there's nothing you can do to stop them - or anyone else who happens to walk by.

---

After that first command, they've mostly left you alone, although the constant knowledge that they could take control of your body again is exhilarating. Every time they come in the room, you get a flutter in your stomach, wondering if now is the time they'll activate the collar again, and what they'll make you do. But so far, you've just been going about your day pretty normally. It's embarrassing to admit to yourself that you're a bit disappointed. As much as this is supposed to be a punishment, you were kind of hoping for them to force you to give them a lap dance at least. Something fun. In an effort to get them worked up, when you got ready for the day you put on your favorite crop top and their favorite miniskirt of yours. But so far, nothing.

Around noon, they walk to the door and put on their shoes. "We should go to the store. We need groceries."

You look up from your spot on the couch. "Right now?"

"Yeah, come on, let's go."

You stand up, but don't walk to the door just yet. "With the collar on?"

They hold their wrist up, dramatically pretending to check a non-existent watch. "Well, let's see, we're only... three hours into your twenty-four hour punishment, so, yeah, with the collar on." They grab their keys and grin with a bit too much excitement. "Come on, get your shoes on, let's go!"

As you walk to the door and put your shoes on, you feel your heart rate go up just a bit, and you get a slightly shaky feeling in your stomach. Is it nerves? Are you nervous about what they might make you do in a public place? Or are you eager?

_

Once they park the car, your anticipation has been building for far too long, and you blurt out, "Are you gonna make me strip in the snacks aisle or something?"

They laugh and shake their head. "No, I won't make you strip in the snacks aisle."

"The baking aisle, then?" You press, your suspicion only growing.

"No, no," they grab the grocery list and get out of the car, "I won't make you strip, I promise."

Well, that's a relief, at least. As you follow them into the grocery store, you start to regret your choice of outfit. You definitely aren't dressed in a very "going to the grocery store" style, and you're drawing a few glances in the parking lot, but you tell yourself it's just your imagination.

You go through the produce section, the baking section, and the dairy section with no incident. You're starting to suspect that they really did just want to go to the supermarket with no ulterior motives, until you get to the frozen section. It's pretty cold, especially for the skimpy outfit you're wearing, and by the time you get to the ice cream, you're shivering just a bit. "Are you cold?" They walk up behind you and wrap their arms around you, pressing your back into them. "Wow, you are cold!" They rub your upper arms to warm you up.

"Oh, thanks," you laugh, "Maybe I should have grabbed a sweater."

"Or maybe you shouldn't have worn such a slutty outfit just to try to get to me," they whisper into your ear. Another shiver runs down your spine, but not from the cold. "I did notice, by the way. But now look at you. You're... well, you're frozen."

You feel the slight buzzing under your skin, and you realize with a hint of panic that they're using the collar. But when your arms and legs don't start to move on their own, you're momentarily confused. You try to turn to look at them, wondering if the collar is malfunctioning, but your head doesn't move. You can't move at all. They're using the collar to hold you frozen in place. You try to speak, but your mouth won't open and your vocal folds won't contract. All you can do is stand there, breathing, waiting for another command.

"Did it work?" They let go of you and walk around to your front. "Let's see..." They take your right hand and lift it up a bit. It stays where they moved it, and you are unable to move it back. They smile. "My little doll."

You feel your face flush and your pussy start to throb. Feeling their eyes on you while you stand there helpless... this is what you've been waiting for since this morning.

They take your hand again and move it up and down, just enjoying getting to manipulate you. "What to do with you now?" They wonder aloud. They slowly move your hand toward the waistband of your skirt. "Should I make you touch yourself?" they whisper. You feel your hand sliding under the waistband of your skirt, then your underwear. "Put your hand on your pussy and make you stand here, wanting desperately to move, but unable to do anything to help yourself?" You desperately want to look around, see if anyone can see you, but you still can't move. They must be thinking the same thing, because with a quick glance both ways down the frozen aisle, they pull your hand out of the waistband. "Maybe not here."

They walk back behind you, and for a moment you have no idea what they're doing. Then they wrap their arms around your waist and pull your ass back a bit, pressing their pussy against you. You're now slightly bent over, and your heart rate spikes. How long will they keep this up? Someone could come by any second!

"I actually really like this outfit," they say, "It's adorable. There are honestly only a few things I'd change about it." You feel them hike your miniskirt up a bit - but a bit is a lot when it comes to this skirt. You know that, especially bent over, if this skirt is hiked up it doesn't take much effort to see everything. "Hm. Not quite." They hike it up a bit more so that it's sitting on your bellybutton, right below your ribs. You know that your ass is definitely showing in the back, but to your relief, you can see your reflection in the glass doors of the frozen aisle, and at least your pussy isn't exposed. You're panicking about being seen like this, but you can also feel yourself getting wet, and your legs getting weaker.

"That's better," they whisper. "And once you dress your doll, all that's left..." they press their hand against your back, "is to pose it." They gently push your back down, so that you're bending over at a 90 degree angle, legs straight, arms bent. You hear them step back to admire their handiwork. You know that at this angle, anyone behind you can see directly up your skirt. You hope that it's not obvious through your underwear how wet you are, but they dash those hopes immediately by saying "I'm glad to see you're enjoying this as much as I am." You can hear the smirk in their voice, and your face gets hot.

They walk around to your front again and open the freezer door. They put your left hand up and wrap it around the handle, holding the door open, and they put your right hand on your thigh. They press your knees together, and they gently tilt your chin up a bit so that you can see in front of you. "You just take a minute. Look at that bottom row of ice cream and decide which one you want. I'll be back."

No no no don't leave! You hear their footsteps departing. You're so stupid, how could you not see this coming?? Up until the very last moment you had no idea where they were going with this, and you couldn't put the pieces together until you were completely bent over, basically flashing your pussy to the whole fucking store. Idiot. You try to console yourself, thinking that maybe no one will come by. It's just after noon, after all, not an overly-popular time to go to the store, right?

You wait as calmly as you can, frozen in this ridiculous position and listening intently to the sounds of the surrounding aisles. You can barely hear anything over the hum of the freezers. The cold air of the freezer is blowing gently over your skin, and you feel your nipples get hard through your shirt as all of your hair stands on end, trying to keep you warm. Despite the cold, you can still feel an unbearably warm flush spread through your face, chest, and even your arms - full body embarrassment. How long will they leave me standing like this??

It doesn't take long before you hear footsteps coming down the aisle. To your dismay, you know from the sound that those footsteps do not belong to your mistress. You're now sweating with the intensity of the humiliation, your heart is going crazy as the strange footsteps approach, but you can't deny that your pussy is practically soaked, and your legs have begun to shake. The only thing more humiliating than being forced to stand here like this is knowing how much it turns you on.

The footsteps stop behind you, and you can feel someone's eyes burning into you. They pause for a good minute. You try desperately to stand up, to say something, to move in any way, but the collar stops every voluntary signal dead in its tracks. What are they doing? Just staring? Fantasizing about what they'll do to me? Why can't they just leave?

Behind you, you hear two words, spoken softly and derisively: "Fucking slut."

You feel another surge of adrenaline to your hands and another surge of blood-flow to your pussy. When will Mistress come back?? This is unbearable! I didn't choose to be posed like this, I can't help it! But you know you did. You didn't directly choose to stand like this, but you chose to be so much of a desperate slut that you couldn't control yourself, and that made them put the collar on you. This is what you deserve. This is, if you're being honest, what you really want.

Another jolt of adrenaline comes as you feel a hand - a strange hand, definitely not that of your mistress - gently trace your swollen clit through your underwear. An involuntary shudder runs through you. "Holy shit," the voice laughs, "where did you come from? A perfect little whore, just waiting for someone like me to come along?"

Everything in you screams at you to move, but the collar is far too strong. There is nothing you can do.

You feel the stranger push your underwear aside, sliding their finger along your wet pussy towards your clit. Right as they reach your clit, the collar's feedback stops, and you accidentally let out a pathetic squeak. Having control of yourself again, you straighten up suddenly and slam the freezer door.

"Excuse me," you hear your mistress's voice from down the aisle, "that's mine."

You turn around to see your mistress walking calmly down the aisle with an amicable smile on their face. The stranger behind you takes a step back and stammers out, "Oh, I'm - um - I'm sorry, I didn't, uh - I didn't realize -"

"No worries. It's perfectly understandable," your mistress cuts them off as they reach the two of you, "Pathetic sluts are meant to be used. This one is just being used by me. But thank you for pressing its buttons. It was very enjoyable to watch."

The stranger, clearly baffled and embarrassed, retreats, leaving you alone with your mistress again. They grin at you and adjust your skirt back to where it was. "Wow, your face is all red, your legs are shaking, you're sweating... I'll assume you had as fun a time as I did watching you."

You open your mouth to reply, but they continue, taking your arm in theirs and walking you towards the checkout. "Anyway, you're probably still freezing! Let's go home and get you warm."

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

I'm writing this story in a series, and this is the second part, so stay tuned! You can find it all under the tag "spectacle series remote control"

[charismaoftls]

Bonus drama track — Sleeping Song

Characters: Iori, Ohse Translation: ksts Proofreading: yuno (ENG) Drama track link

Iori and Ohse: Sleeping song

(Sound of crickets chirping)

Ohse: Sigh…

Iori: Good evening

(Iori walks over to Ohse)

Iori: Whatcha doing?

Ohse: Nothing much…

Iori: Can’t sleep, huh?

Ohse: …Yeah. What’s the time?

Iori: It’s past 2 a.m. already. Well, I can't sleep either

Ohse: …I wonder why we sleep in the first place

Iori: Mm?

Ohse: Io-kun, why do you sleep?

Iori: Why, you ask… Because I have to?

Ohse: Why do you have to?

Iori: Ehh? Lemme think… For my body to rest? Or head?.. I don't really know, though

Ohse: We sleep yet don't even know the reason behind it… And what's more, we spend a full third of our day doing it. Why…

Iori: Hmm…

Ohse: Do you ever think about it?

Iori: Not really

Ohse: So you don't…

Iori: Well, that's just how it is. I mean, there will be trouble serving you all the next day if I don't get enough sleep

Ohse: Mm…

Iori: And you think about that kind of stuff, huh

Ohse: Yeah

Iori: Weirdo

Ohse: Right back at you

Iori and Ohse: ??

(Some sounds come from outside the room)

Ohse: Who's that?

Iori: Dunno

Ohse: Seems the others can't sleep either

Iori: Right… The others can't either… Then I wonder if there is some good way for them to get to sleep

Ohse: ?

Iori: I mean, they're having trouble, right? I wanna give them a good solution

Ohse: Right, we should come up with something

Iori: What about making a pillow? Like a soft and comfortable one

Ohse: Ehh… Nope

Iori: Dakimakura?

Ohse: As if they need that…

Iori: Midnight snack?

Ohse: Uhh…

Iori: Maybe earplugs?

Ohse: I don't think that's the problem…

Iori: I see…

Ohse: …Song

Iori: ?

Ohse: I think a song will do

Iori: A song? What do you mean?

Ohse: A song for sleeping, sleeping song

Iori: Hmm? Ah, like that? One dog, two dog, that one?

Ohse: It’s sheeps

Iori: Dogs are fine too!

Ohse: They’re not. You're just gonna bark counting them. One dog

Iori: Woof!

Ohse: Two dog

Iori: Woof woof!

Ohse: Three dog

Iori: Woof woof woof!

Ohse: See, you can’t sleep like that

Iori: Fair. Hmm, but as for the song… I wonder if I can make it

Ohse: I’ll help you

Iori: Eh. So that we make it together?

Ohse: Yeah

Iori: Mm…

Ohse: Hmm…

(Iori and Ohse yawn)

Iori: I wonder which one will do…

Ohse: Yeeaah…

★ directory ★

[billythenightguard]

Run Away: Detention (2011) & FNAF Movie Crossover - Chapter Three

Masterlist

Mentions: math

Word Count: 1265

Warnings: fluff, math homework

Older!Clapton/Mike x GN!Reader

You and Mike had been coworkers for two weeks now, always chatting and getting to know each other in the thirty minutes of shift change. You had noticed that the snacks often went out fast, but you never complained, you just brought extra.

“I sort of have a favor I was wondering I could ask of you.” Mike said, looking down sheepishly almost.

“You know you can ask me anything.” You said sweetly to him, setting your things into the locker that was now yours, Mike still sitting in the swivel chair.

“Could you babysit Abby tonight… I… I can’t afford a babysitter and I’m willing to work a double as payment.” He quickly stammered out, it was a big deal to him, asking for help like this. But Max bailed on him, and he didn’t trust anyone else.

“I’ll be glad to watch her, and no worries about that double, okay? I’ll babysit her for the next five years until she’s old enough to be home alone if need be.”

“But what about-”

“Do not worry about paying me.” You interrupted, seeing how the worry in his big brown eyes melted away… almost like how Clapton’s would. “I like Abby, she’s sweet and kind. I’d happily watch her everyday for you okay?”

Mike nodded, trying not to tear up in front of you. Maybe you didn't know who he was yet, but you were still so kind to him. Still the sweetheart neighbor he adored. Once he hit the age of 12, he had tried harder than ever to get over the childhood crush, it wasn’t appropriate. He knew that. But now, he’s 29 and you’re 24, no one would even bat an eye at that. He wished desperately he could have stayed.

“Hey, uh, this’ll sound silly, but did you ever go to prom? Abby heard some kid talking about their big sister going and she’s asking me. But I never went.” He said honestly.

“No,” you spoke softly, looking down, “I was meant to. When I was 14, that best friend I mentioned before, I was gonna go to his senior prom with him. His ex was this annoying skank, she kept wanting him to get into fights for her so he broke it off and asked me, just as friends, but truth be told I felt myself falling for him.”

Mike felt his heart catch in his chest and a lump form in his throat, you were in love with him? All this time, “what would you do, if he ever came back?” He asked, hoping you couldn’t detect the eager nervousness in his voice.

“First, I’d slap him, then I’d kiss him.” You said, smiling with a hint of a blush.

“I’m here for Abby Schmidt.” You said to the car line worker, showing her the piece of paper Mike gave you for pickup, along with the note he had written to inform them that you were meant to grab Abby and for them to please add you to her emergency contact form.

You watched as they turned and went to go get her, music softly humming in your car as you daydreamed slightly about what prom with Clapton would have been like, Mike’s question was innocent but it certainly got your mind thinking. You were interrupted by a squeal of your name and your back door nearly tearing open from excitement.

“Hey there, Abs!” You smiled, turning to her to make sure she was buckled in.

“Are you my babysitter?!” Straight to the point, but happy, you loved her already.

“For only the next five years, sweet girl.” You laughed as she let out an insane amount of giggles, looking forward and driving out of the line. “Alright, so I was thinking we will do some grocery shopping for both of our houses. Will you help me and tell me what you guys usually eat?”

“Spaghetti and pizza!” You laughed and looked l into the rearview mirror to see her.

“Yeah? That’s a good combination, alright we will get spaghetti and pizza, and what else?” You asked, smiling in adoration and making a list of everything Abby rattled off.

You had gotten everything both your home and the Schmidt home needed, as a teenager when you babysat for money, you always would buy your own ingredients to cook with, hating the idea of using other people’s food without knowing if they may already have plans for it. Abby helped you to bring in your own bags and groceries first, it turned out you lived just down the road from them.

“Alright,” you smiled, rubbing your hands to alleviate the slight ache from carrying in heavy bags of groceries, you and Abby just finished putting away the groceries in her home, “spaghetti and pizza for dinner?”

“Yes, please!”

“Okay, go do your homework for me, and I’ll check it when you’re done.” Abby gave a mock salute which made you both giggle, but nonetheless she went to do as she was asked.

You didn’t know exactly how big her appetite was, but you still played it safe by making a smaller portion of spaghetti, you hoped she’d like it, the sauce was homemade versus that of in a jar, call it old habits, you hadn’t bought jarred sauce… well ever.

“Abby!” You called as the timer for the pizza went off just a little after the spaghetti finished, “dinner is ready!” She came out of her room with her homework in hand, “trade.” You said with a smile, taking her homework and giving her a plate of food.

“Oh, no… math.” You groaned a little as you looked it over. You were never one for any sort of mathematics, but Clapton was, he could quickly solve any equation in his head like it was nothing, and he never shamed you for taking a little longer to solve it.

“It’s okay if you’re not good at math, Mike is!” Abby piped up after chewing and swallowing her food.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! He’s like a math genius!”

You smiled and chuckled, you knew this had to be turned in the next day, maybe you should call him and see if he could help you on the ones you didn’t know for sure.

“Hello?” Mike spoke through the phone, hoping he didn’t sound like he had just woken up, although you’d already caught him sleeping a few times.

“Hey, Mike!” He immediately perked up at your voice, “everything is good here, Abby ate dinner and got washed up, I just had a couple questions about her math homework… I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to check it in the morning and I didn’t want her to possibly turn it in wrong. I’ve been told you’re a math genius.” You giggled albeit nervously, hoping he wouldn’t be mad at you.

“Oh, oh, that’s good. I’m glad she’s not giving you trouble.” He said, rubbing his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“Sounds like she got them right, so no need for you to worry.” He smiled, chuckling quietly at the sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.

“Thank god, because I’m not the person to come to for math.” You said, putting her homework neatly into her backpack. “I’m sorry to bother you at work for that.”

“Don’t be, it’s boring here otherwise.” He almost didn’t want you to hang up, well scratch that. He didn’t want you to.

“Goodnight Mike, I’ll see you in the morning.” You said after a few minutes of a blissful silence.

“Goodnight…” click “firecracker.”

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