#and if you're dressing to the nines it's that little bit extra

[rozaceous]

ands: the new year's debacle

Wayne Enterprises & Subsidiaries NYE Event, where Director Yang is in attendance with a tall, gorgeous, and mysterious Plus One. They are both seen cheerfully making conversation with Chief Fox, much to the bafflement of the combined office betting pools.

(aka: post bruce and co resolving the UST over the holidays, it's Wayne E's holiday party and he finds out that vivienne and rosalyn know each other, and know each other well. ft: kevin the mortified and unsuspecting office worker.)

“I’m not—” Kevin feels his heels slipping as both Patricia and Claire pretend to double-over with laughter, arms hooked around his as a pretense to frogmarch him towards the trio at the large window of the event space.

“The General likes you best,” Henry says in that obnoxious way where he thinks he’s contributing to the discussion, but it’s just hot air.

“Marvin the Martian’s her favorite,” he refutes.

Simon gives a hard stare over at their wayward co-worker and they all follow his gaze. Marvin “the Martian” is either trying to describe how superconductors work or the mechanics of the wobbling gelatin dessert in his hands to his plus one. Poor woman looks completely lost, as if she’s been beamed to another planet.

“She thinks his nickname is funny, but she thinks you’re actually funny,” Johanna explains with a tone of talking down to a toddler.

Another voice joins their conversation. “Maybe you can go? Female-female solidarity?” He was thinking it, and Michael is the one to say it out loud. He comes up behind Simon, nodding greetings and holding hors d'oeuvres.

Johanna gives him a scornful once-over. She doesn’t move any closer despite the haughty attitude—she’s just as terrified of their boss as the rest of them are.

Kevin continues to struggle to no avail. He hisses, “Ladies, please!”

They’re slowly but steadily inching closer towards doom. Kevin’s never been a proponent of more than a light jog every two days, but the way Henry looks pityingly at him makes him reconsider stopping by the top-of-the-line gym facilities that all WayneTech employees get access to. Unfortunately, it means he’d have to account for running into trouble outside of business hours, as well.

Speaking of trouble—

“Director Yang!” Patricia gives off a bubbly laugh—the only natural blonde on their floor and she leans hard into it. Kevin would buy in, too, if he hasn’t seen how she gave that Enterprise Division asshole Asher Mulland the run-around. He was none the wiser, either; too busy dealing with Director Yang reaming him for wasting everyone’s time when his side pushed for ‘tighter integration’ in the first place.

“Patricia, off-hours,” Director Yang says with a small raise of her champagne flute. “I see you and Claire are…” The way she trails off that sentence while looking askance at him makes Kevin want his every molecules to drop down to absolute zero, no motion whatsoever.

If he doesn’t move, she can’t see him, right?

“Kevin’s more fun than the rest of the boys’ club you’re running, Vivienne.” Claire is both purposefully casual and careful with how she says Director Yang’s name. The little curl of the draconian woman’s lips—blood red lacquer and a hint of teeth—at that mockery seems to be a good sign (if an unnerving sight all the same), as the rest of the women in their circle start to laugh.

“We came over because we had to know who you’re wearing?” Patricia ends her statement with a questioning lilt.

“Hervé Léger,” she answers easily, and the striking brunette next to her leans close to clink their flutes together with a laugh. “Nothing wrong with a bit of excitement to greet the new year,” Director Yang says with a warm expression that actually reaches her eyes, curving them into crescents.

“As if you need an excuse to buy more clothes or shoes,” the brunette teases with a winsome smile, and all that prompts is a small flicker of an eye roll before Director Yang leans into her side.

“Where would she be without her shoes?” Chief Fox adds on dryly. “They’ve been making a statement since her undergraduate showcase. The terror of her division, too, if the scuttlebutt’s to be believed.”

“The terror of her calves, more like,” Statuesque Brunette jumps back in.

“But you have to admit they look amazing.” Director Yang’s tone takes on an unrecognizable quality.

Kevin has to admit nothing. He’s not looking at how his boss is in a dress that shows off her arms and shoulders and back and legs, and even if he were, his brain would do him the courtesy of applying a pixelated modesty filter over things no human was meant to perceive.

She looks over at them as if on cue and his mind goes blank with momentary terror. Maybe she can read minds. Maybe Claire says something agreeable or whatever, and Patricia nods along, but he can’t process the words.

It’s bizarre and hair-raising. She’s never gone out of her way to make it known, but within the first two years of working at WayneTech it was factual that Vivienne Yang was a hardass at best and a tyrant at worst. The fact that she’s rarely wrong and backed up all but officially by the CTO of WayneTech and acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises Lucius Fox means that she has leeway to be as despotic as she pleases. It’s true that one would have to monumentally cause something to go FUBAR for her to turn her attention on them, but those with survival instincts cringe at the sound of ‘click-clack-click-clack’ heels marching directly towards their desk.

The horsemen of the apocalypse in his dreams wore fitted suit jackets and pussy-bow blouses, and were all the more terrifying for it.

Hires that didn’t know better and got cocky—they were usually the type to run their mouths, fuck up anyways, and got made examples out of. It’d be better if she yelled, but she would coldly and without pause tear into every bit of their professional and technical integrity until there was nothing left. If it were Kevin, he wouldn’t even dare apply to a different job elsewhere, non-compete clauses notwithstanding.

When he gains awareness of the conversation again, it’s at the mention of his name.

“—must be Kevin.” Statuesque Brunette smiles over at him, with the most perfectly manicured and shaped hand reaching out for a greeting. She’s taller than him, too. “Vi’s told me a lot about you. I’m Rosalyn.”

“I—ah—” And thank god he automatically reaches over to shake her hand, even as he stutters. To his horror, Patricia and Claire are nowhere to be seen. He’s on his own. “All good things, I hope? We’re, well…’the nail that sticks out gets the hammer,’ as they say around here.” He tries for a joke to break the tension.

“You stick out in a good way,” Rosalyn says warmly, reassuringly, except it makes him that much more afraid. “Notable work, great attitude.”

Director Yang doesn’t point out anything unless it’s an egregious error. It’s either ‘good, proceed,’ ‘alright, I see,’ or the dreaded ‘hm.’ And then it all goes downhill from there.

“You’re the division’s foremost expert on frogs, right?” Rosalyn brings up, her straight, ivory teeth flashing in a show of mirth. She tucks shiny, flawlessly wavy hair behind an ear.

“Toads, actually,” comes out of his mouth before he can process the fact that Director Yang has 1) seen his work desktop background, and 2) told her plus one about it.

“Toads, Ros,” Director Yang concurs and takes a sip of champagne. “There’s a difference.”

He must be in a lucid nightmare right now, because Chief Fox nods thoughtfully and Rosalyn hums before asking, “So, what is the difference?”

His parents were right; he should have gone to church more and played less in the swamp, because a toad-shaped demon takes possession of him to rattle on about the differences and he can’t stop himself. The fact that Director Yang and Chief Fox hold a little side conversation but still have the wherewithal to nod along, even adding in little factoids of their own to Rosalyn’s follow-up questions, traps him in this never-ending psychotic break.

“—and Michael’s finally here to complete the duo act,” Director Yang drawls when Kevin has a pause. “I was wondering how long you two could bear to be separated.”

“These two submitted the winning proposal for the small-sat bid, yes?” Chief Fox turns an appraising look towards them. “Good work.”

“And lively all-hands meetings, from what I hear,” Rosalyn comments wryly.

Cold sweat drips down his back, and Michael’s not doing any better now that he’s also in their sights. His smile freezes in a way that starts to look like a grimace.

“So, how were the holidays?” Director Yang brings everything back to polite, standard conversation. “I assume everyone’s hard-fought-for and well-deserved PTO was spent wisely?”

“That does include you, too, Vi,” Chief Fox says.

Rosalyn chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry about that—she was forced to take it easy because—”

Kevin thinks he might prefer the regular work week interactions—at least he has those rules of engagement memorized. Here, he feels like a bug on display in front of the two most terrifying individuals at the company and a cheerfully intimidating plus one; the mood is awkward and Michael’s expression shows he clearly regrets coming over to bail him out.

---

Half an hour later, Kevin and Michael have made a partial escape and are lingering to the side of the room’s large window and attempting to look like they’re making conversation instead of standing awkwardly close to the curtains and eavesdropping as Rosalyn is now regaling Chief Fox with the details of a recent house tour she and Director Yang had taken. She has him honest-to-god chuckling. It’s just not right.

Kevin and Michael are still sharing bulging eye contact at the revelation of Director Yang getting a house with anybody, much less her apparent girlfriend(?) —Chief Fox seems to handle this information with more grace, but then he actually seems to like Director Yang—when Rosalyn is interrupted by the man of the perpetual hour.

“—wiring done by someone who’s idea of electricity hasn’t gained any sophistication past flying a kite in a storm based on the way the bathroom light sparked when I turned it on—”

“Of course I’d find you with the smartest, most beautiful women in the room, Lucius,” says Bruce Wayne, a half-emptied glass of champagne in hand as he smoothly sidles his way into their conversation. He and Chief Fox exchange a brief handshake and inquiry-answer about Chief Fox’s wife, who had other obligations.

And then—

“Hi, Bruce.” Rosalyn leans in to hug Mr Wayne and kiss his cheek. Kevin makes a choking noise and Michael elbows him to make him be quiet, transfixed by the way the very fabric of the universe is unraveling in front of them. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you this evening.”

“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve been here that much sooner, Rosalyn,” Mr Wayne returns. He pecks her cheek back and releases her, hand trailing her midback as he pulls away. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I’m Vivienne’s plus one.”

“Bruce,” greets Director Yang with a smile that for once has settled on something that doesn’t look like she’s considering evisceration. Her handshake appears similarly nonviolent; she even goes so far as to add a second hand on top. Kevin and Michael glance quickly at one another, neither sure if it’s a play for dominance or an uncharacteristic but genuine expression of warmth. “Happy New Year’s.”

Mr Wayne reclaims his hand, head tilted just slightly, but still looking happy as a clam, if a little confused. “Happy New Year’s, Vivienne. I didn’t realize the two of you had gotten on so well! Glad it was a worthwhile referral, then.”

“Very worthwhile,” Rosalyn agrees. “I’m sure I must’ve thanked you for the introduction back then, but I’m happy to reiterate it.”

“Of course, of course.” And Mr Wayne’s eyes are flicking between Rosalyn and Director Yang, apparently taking in the lack of distance required for him to do so. Director Yang’s smile, meanwhile, evolves into more of a smirk. Kevin shivers as he weathers a flashback to when Director Yang had given Director Schroeder enough rope to hang himself with and watched him do so while in an inter-department meeting.

Kevin clamps a hand onto his companion-in-misery’s elbow, and Michael doesn’t even flinch when his fingers dig in through the fabric of the suit jacket, too busy staring.

“Mr Wayne introduced them?” Kevin asks in a frantic whisper. Why would Mr Wayne even know Rosalyn? Why did he know Rosalyn first?

And Michael frantically whispers back with the horrible speculation of, “I think Director Yang stole Mr Wayne’s girl out from under him.”

Kevin struggles to find evidence to argue against that fearsome proposition. The closest that he can come up with is that Rosalyn isn’t the wafer-thin type that Mr Wayne’s been seen with in the past. Regardless, she (and Director Yang, in fact) both have the polish of Mr Wayne’s supermodel pursuits, somehow—every woman in attendance is dolled up and dressed to impress, but there was an ineffable and insurmountable difference between them and the two women in front of him.

He thinks it’s dark magic, personally. Blood of the innocents, perhaps.

“Rosalyn was just telling me about an ill-fated house tour their real estate agent gave last week,” Chief Fox segues. Whereas Director Yang is terrifying like a guided missile strike aimed at your desk, Chief Fox is worse in the way of finding assassins invading your home in the dead of night; Kevin can never get a read on him. Is this social grace? Or adding fuel to the fire?

“The house was Murphy’s Law in residential form.” Rosalyn takes her cue masterfully. “It was almost comical, though poor Sharon was nearly in tears when a door literally swung off its hinges at the end.”

Mr Wayne blinks and gives a little laugh. “You didn’t mention you were house-hunting, Ros! I’d be happy to set you up with my agent.”

“We found a place in Fashion last week,” demurs Director Yang, eyes sharp though the rest of her expression is pleasant.

Kevin’s pretty sure the way Mr Wayne is showing his teeth now is more about holding in a scream than smiling. He can completely commiserate with the feeling.

“Finally, it’s been months,” agrees Rosalyn, apparently impervious to the tension Kevin is currently absorbing into his nervous system. He’s attempting to expel it, and Michael is taking the brunt. His elbow is probably going to have bruises. “Needs some work, but it’s gorgeous and has—what was it Sharon said?”

Director Yang answers, “Good bones.”

Rosalyn nods, satisfied. “Weirdest turn of phrase. It has a sturdy foundation, anyway. And doesn’t seem like it’s been shot up by the mob recently, at least, which is more than one of the houses we looked at can say.”

“Some poorly plastered-over bullet holes in the foyer,” Director Yang says with an amused raise of an eyebrow. “Semi-automatic, gives it character.”

Rosalyn’s cheer contrasts with her next words: “Though no visible bloodstains in that one! That was the house we looked at on Irving and Park—”

“Terrible HVAC, too—”

“It’s been quite the adventure, in any case,” Rosalyn concludes. “But I suppose that’s house hunting in Gotham for you. We’re only waiting on the home inspection now that the holidays are wrapping up, but that should go fine, and then it’s just closing. We’re hoping to move in in February.”

“Fingers crossed.” Director Yang takes a drink from her glass, glancing fondly up at Rosalyn from the side of her eyes.

Fondly. Kevin is going to combust, especially when Rosalyn nudges into Director Yang’s shoulder.

“Well, that’s—I’m glad you’ve found a place,” says Mr Wayne, sounding a little faint, and looking like the champagne has hit him with a two-by-four instead of BAC.

“Thanks, Bruce.” Rosalyn beams, her cheeks gone a little pink.

“How long have you and Vi known each other, Rosalyn?” Chief Fox asks. “She’s so tight-lipped about her personal life, I’m afraid it’s a mystery.”

“Oh! That’s—” she flashes a quick look at Director Yang “—a little under a year?”

“Eight months,” says Director Yang.

Rosalyn clears her throat, pinking a little more, but Chief Fox just makes a noise of sudden comprehension.

“Ah, so it’s you we have to thank for the office’s standing desk trend, then.” He raises his glass at Rosalyn, eyes crinkled.

“Trend?”

“It caught on after Director Yang got hers and everyone started making a fuss about her timers for changing desk positions.”

“I—well—yes, I suppose that was me, then. I didn’t realize it’d made a fuss, though. Vi, you didn’t say!”

Kevin and Michael share yet another aghast look, and Kevin is rapidly revising his ranking on who present is scariest, Rosalyn now taking the top slot. Anyone who can get Director Yang to do their bidding and make Chief Fox laugh and who somehow knows Bruce Wayne well enough to be on a first-name basis deserves the gold medal.

Rosalyn takes a sip of champagne, seemingly a little flustered, and her bright lipstick doesn’t even leave a mark on the glass. Just in case Kevin needed more evidence of her uncanny, eldritch powers.

---

Nothing as gauche as a shouting match, dramatic declarations, or running off into the night happens as the New Year’s ball drops.

Instead, the attendees are all witnesses to various anomalies: the domesticity of Rosalyn and Director Yang fetching drinks and hors d’oeuvres for each other, giggle fits from the women and a round of full-bellied laughter from Chief Fox, and glassy-eyed looks cast over the edges of a speedily replenished series of champagne flutes by Mr Wayne as he makes his social rounds. Whether the expression was caused by sentiment, alcohol, or pure bewilderment was the point of contention fueling a new betting pool.

The cherry on top is when Rosalyn, herself some glasses in, starts loudly care-taking Director Yang.

“—I can see the goosebumps, Vi!” she chastises, starting to shrug off the jacket of her fuchsia pantsuit. Kevin is gratified that Henry also chokes at the arm muscle and cleavage displayed by the now-visible camisole, the same shiny fuchsia fabric as the suit.

“My coat’s in the car, I’ll be fine,” Director Yang—pouts?!

“Yes, it’s doing you so much good in the car.” Rosalyn manhandles Director Yang into putting on the jacket over her silvery-gray dress while Director Yang sulkily submits, but Rosalyn ends with an affectionate kiss on the cheek that has Claire gasping and clutching onto Patricia, making a high-pitched coo.

“Mr Fox, I think we should take this as our cue to exit for the evening,” says Rosalyn, arm lingering around Director Yang’s shoulders.

Director Yang gives a sharp, two-fingered jab to Rosalyn’s ribs, making the woman let out an “Eep!”

“Lucius, please, Rosalyn,” Chief Fox protests, and Michael’s jaw drops at his words. Chief Fox’s eyes are sparkling at the scene in front of him, though Johanna has been keeping the tally on everyone, and he’s had five glasses by now according to her. “And of course. I’ll be in touch with Vi about Tanya and I having the two of you over for dinner once things settle down on the housing front.”

Rosalyn seems to inflate with the force of her happiness at the prospect. “Absolutely, I’d love to meet her! Luke and Tam, too, now that I’ve heard so much!”

“Little Luke’s a riot,” Director Yang says dryly. “You should grill him on how he thinks shoulders work.”

“Those sound like fighting words.” Rosalyn nods, completely serious, though not losing the sense of good humor she’s kept throughout the night. She and Chief Fox shake hands and exchange genial goodbyes, while Director Yang detaches herself from her date long enough to give the man a two-armed hug. Rosalyn then returns her arm to Director Yang’s shoulders, steering her towards the valet service at the exit.

With the intimate proximity and rhythmic complexity of tango dancers, ‘clickety-clack-click-clackety’ and away the devil saunters with her consort.

The office pool pivots back to watching Chief Fox when, in the aftermath, he approaches Mr Wayne—who had watched the two women leave with his brow furrowed ever-so-slightly—and they share a few words before Chief Fox gives him a clap on the back that looks suspiciously conciliatory.

Johanna assesses her nearly empty flute of champagne. “I need something harder.”

Kevin just wants Mr Wayne’s two-by-four from earlier in the evening, hoping that traumatic brain injury will still be less traumatic than everything he’s been forced to witness tonight.

[sl4sh3rsub]

art the clown hcs (nsfw: mdni)

art the clown x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: so so much. unhygienic behaviour, p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), creampies, fingering (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), dubious consent + cnc (with art), noncon (with [sometimes intoxicated] victims + art, not with reader), art is mute, reader is put on display and used as bait for art's activities, art makes his own snuff?? idk but there's sexual stuff with dead bodies + art in the same vicinity, masturbation, blood kink but lots of blood in general, gore, mentions of injury and giving injury (not on reader), public sex/exhibitionism, oral (giving + receiving), rimming (giving), period sex, cumrag, sexual photographs taken of/for reader, art goes commando, scarification, art is a switch - if only to commit to the bit, fear play (empty guns, dull knives), bondage (reader receiving), cum eating, somnophilia, shoe humping, cum tributes, feet stuff mentioned, musk kink, corruption kink mentioned?, mtf section mentions art performing an orchiectomy

a/n: kinda edited. he's so nine inch nails/orgy coded and the movies are so scary that i chickened out rewatching parts of terrifier 2 pls forgive me :3 the first dot point is to set the mood, sorry but it gets right into it

READ THE WARNINGS this one's very intense - please, if you think this might be too much for you or just uncomfortable, skip this one.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

art will put on a home video of him torturing and toying with someone while you're held between his legs - he wants to have a fun little viewing party for his recent exploits! he toys with your hole, teasing you as his cock ruts into your lower back. the sinister clown ignores the thrashing of your legs as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of your poor, tired body. the only time he lets up, giving a break from his constant stimulation on your sweet spots, is when he pauses to mimic a wave or jolly dance in the video he's showing you. the way your slick arousal thins and connects his fingers whenever he waves at the screen would be comical if your head wasn't so fuzzy from the constant edging. he loves tormenting people but the methods for you are a bit more... delicious

whenever he comes home injured, he patiently sits propped against a wall as you tend to his weeping wounds. judging by the ripped clown suit and gashes littering his skin, it was evidently a rough night. he doesn't bother to tell you that he will heal at abnormally fast speeds, he just loves the sight of his blood smeared on your skin. while you bandage art up, the gauze ends up giving him more coverage than his shredded suit - he meets your gaze with a sly grin as he thrusts up into your hand, showing what he has to offer. you'll have to ignore the drying blood all over the two of you, as he rushes to pull your face into of his lap to let out some pent-up energy :<

he's always so playful whenever you both get down and dirty, whether it's pulling surprised expressions whenever you cum, dragging his finger down from your lips to your throat to shush you or flick your nipples only to giggle at your surprised face

if art is not in the mood to trudge home alone after a rampage, he'll text you an address to meet him at. to no one's surprise, it's always a laundromat. he loves to fuck you in the empty establishments while his clothing is in a washing cycle - after all, it would be rude to get your clothing dirty while he's taking you from behind over a dryer. he pays extra attention to getting off and finishing inside you as a way to wind down from a wild time, his creamy release dripping onto the floor. guess you'll have to bust out the mop on shaky legs while art cheerily dresses himself and patiently waits for you on the bench next to the window - he can't help but admire his special person and be proud of how he made them come undone

his favourite way to wake up is to have his throbbing cock in your mouth, his gaze half-lidded as you work your hand along his length and envelop him with your soft lips. art is addicted to you sloppily gagging on him, spit and precum drooling down his balls. his huffs of pleasure gracing your ears are the sweetest part of any early morning

whenever you finish giving art head, kiss his tip softly after swallowing, making sure to slurp up his cum from dribbling down his shaft and he'll trace a heart on your forehead with your tears from gagging on him. if you meet his gaze as you catch your breath, he'll quietly shush and tut at you in reassurance while you rest your cheek against his bare thigh, petting your hair

the clown likes to play a game where he captures male victims he's focused on, strips them down, then ties them up in a row and gags them. he makes them watch as he pleasures you in front of them, spread on display as he mocks them and their tears, all while you come undone on his cock and fingers. he punishes the one that gets hard first (away from you, of course - he drags the guy to the next room to deal with later). art puts you on display in front of the remaining men, dons a shitty wig and red lipstick then slowly jerks off the softest person as they gradually get more aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself and moaning for art to fuck you. art is overall most turned on by other people watching you without touching what's his - he loves showing you off and feeling proud that they could never pleasure you like he could :3

art fucks you against the windows of buildings he's snuck into - he loves giving an eyeful for his potential victims and he's not above tempting them into the building he's camped out in with the false promise of joining in

he has certain hand signals for you to bend over, drop your pants or get on your knees. it's not in an intimidating dominant way, it's simply out of necessity as he cannot verbally order you to do anything in the bedroom

your pleasure is not the priority all the time - art's main goal is for him to feel good, however he may realise that certain things make you squeeze his cock perfectly and as a result, your orgasms are a coincidental byproduct of his lust

art is a sucker for being balls deep inside you when he cums but he also enjoys painting your sloppy hole - an excellent view, plus there's so much to scoop up and finger deep back inside you

whenever he cums, art's tummy tenses and his thighs spasm as his eyes roll backwards. his chest shudders as his breathing gets shaky, needing to grab onto something to steady himself. his cum itself is generally thick but whenever you remind him to drink water, it'll get very thin and watery. it's important to note, his cum colour fluctuates between a regular milk colour and pitch black goop

art the clown freeballs in his satin costume, just hangin out for the sake of convenience and simplicity - if he's needing to piss, rub one out or get undressed to sleep, why should underwear be in the way? he's an absolute pervert, so he loves you seeing his dick whenever you look at him

force him have a shower - not even a bath, the water would get dirty too quick. caked layers of metallic blood and dirt don't help anyone's general scent and if he's around you a lot, you don't want a smelly clown trailing you and in your general vicinity

he wanders around naked after he takes a hot shower, when his costume is drying and his painted neck is waiting to be properly touched up. expect to see his bare dick twitch while you stare in shock, mouth hanging open at his blatant lack of shame in his nudity. the same thing applies to whenever the clown suit has a hole in it - at this point it's any excuse to be in the nude and flaunting his body around, the tapered tip of his cock always pulsing under your bashful eye

art carves his name into you - or something like 'art was here', 'art's art' or 'art's toy' - but you get to choose where! in his mind, it's like a collaborative effort :<

he's addicted to your warmth and tightness, so be ready to have his pasty cock buried in you whenever there's nothing to do. he'll pull you onto his lap while bunched up and all tense, pull down your underwear and spit on his length, slowly sliding into you as his muscles release all tension. he's practically a limp puddle once he's deep inside - he's comfortable enough to nap like this and will cuddle you until you feel the same way. the bastard will occasionally toot his horn to scare you into clenching around his softly throbbing dick

his love language is physical touch - his hand is always hovering near your hip, ass or lower back and he pats your cheek or kisses your temple if you've been good, petting your hair as you doze off next to him. his version on an 'i love you' is a warm palm cupping your face as he intertwines his body with yours, your muscles relaxing as you lean into his heat

the clown always, always leaves deep bites and bruises all over your body. prepare to have painkillers at every single meal, because he makes sure you're aching and bleeding when he's done with you after a rough day

as he doesn't make you participate in his meals of flesh and rubbish, expect to have his victim's homecooked leftovers, as well as pizza and other take-out regularly - all with a little extra salty glaze ontop <3 he's a romantic after all and still wants a small part of him inside you no matter what, that way you're never really lonely - his warmth settling in your tummy and also leaking from between your legs

art marks up your neck with his tongue and nails, leaving crescent moons and maroon roses etched into your skin like a morbid necklace. although he's not happy that you don't heal abnormally fast like he does, your shudders as his cold nails trail over your tender flesh spark a warmth within his gut and a glint in his eye

art chokes you so often that his hand is practically your necklace. he likes the control he's able to exercise subtly with a squeeze of his fingers and you don't mind the comforting pressure of his thumb skimming over your pulse. be sure to wash his gloves often thought - whenever you drool or have given him head and his hand then takes its place around your throat, the remnants of the fluids often soak into the material clinging to his palms. eventually, it'll make his skin tacky with dried cum and spit, stuck to the threadbare gloves

his guilty pleasure is having you ride him and take control, with zero regard for accidentally overstimulating him - sure he could breed you of his own volition, in his own time, but he's your toy in that moment with no control. the coincidental creampie being fucked deeper and deeper in you makes a shiver run down his spine. he's willing to be a pliable doll for you to mould into a quiet fuck toy to play with. be sure to hold art close and comfort him after you take control and he'll do the same back after he's been rough

art gets his hands on incredibly dull knives and empty guns with no magazine, especially pistols, and brings them into your sexual life. he loves the fear in your eyes as he trails the blades down your chest, tracing your nipples and thighs but the clown is especially turned on by making you suck the barrel of a gun - pretty eyes glittering in panic and arousal. he makes a game of rigging a shotgun with tripwires - if you shift too much while he trails his tongue down your body or thrash as he makes you cum on his face, the threat of the trigger being pulled gives you a rush of adrenaline that makes your eyes roll back, vision fading white. his gun fixation is not limited to just that - some other ideas he's been cooking up include you being fucked by a dead cop's handgun while humping his clown shoe, as well as you christening each new weapon he creates during his tinkering sessions

if he's desperate to jerk off, he'll do it wherever - ready to get it over with even if he ends up rubbing one out next to a dead body or in the middle of a public park. if he returns to you with dirty gloves and semen drying on the wrist, don't ask what happened because his mimed description of events is never pleasant

art sits on your face and gets off with his fist while you fuck him with your tongue, lapping at his hole. he tosses his head back and pants very softly, thighs trembling as he grinds himself on your face - bonus points if you let him pull back and fuck your mouth with his cock for a bit before returning to suffocate you between his asscheeks

he loves licking your skin everywhere. absolutely everywhere. he loves the taste of your salty sweat and warmth, feeling powerful having your pulse race under his tongue. if you fuck him, stuff your fingers in his mouth and his eyes will roll back in his skull

art suspends you with chains and rope, teasing you until you're begging to be fucked. his deft fingers trace your curves and edges, flicking and pinching your nipples, inner thighs and ass as he manically grins with a clear cock print in the front of his suit. he only maneuvers you to take his cock once you're dripping spit, tears and arousal onto the cold floor and screaming for him

as art knows you belong to him, sharing you with another man gets him going like nothing else - he'll eiffel tower you with a restrained captive, urging you to choke on the stranger's hardening dick as he fucks you so deep you're gasping for air and seeing stars. what's gonna happen, the guy survives? fuck no, he's already practically giftwrapped at death's doorstep just from becoming art's captive. why not make the last few hours of his life enjoyable and more than fulfilling - if the poor sod is willing, you could even keep him for a night or two as a pet

if you have genital, nipple piercings or even a septum done, art will dangle a little bell from each hoop. it immediately brightens his day to hear the little jingles whenever you're bouncing on his dick and he can't resist flicking them to make you jolt or smacking your ass whenever you walk near him just to hear the sweet soft tinkle under your loose clothing

art cleans up each basement/house he temporarily stays in, with a designated bed to fit the two of you and ensures there's a bathroom and basic laundry attached for your comfort - he notices you tend to avoid his being in his proximity whenever he gets too smelly. he may also move in with you for bouts of time - provided you have the space - but also camps out at his usual haunts and drags you along to hang out with him! the poor clown hates being lonely :(

he might go on a walk with you and toy with you - he gets off on watching you panic as he whips his dick out in public and gestures for you to kiss it, rub your face over it and worship him, hard or not. the control he holds over you and the headrush of power, combined with your submissive gaze aimed up at him, makes his growing affection and attachment towards you grow stronger

he brings you human organs and shitty handwritten poems - 'here's a heart but i wanna be the one pumping inside of you <:o)' or 'i could call you this esophagus the way you swallowed me so well last night >:)'

he has a collection of picture frames in his hideout because he takes photos of you and sticks them in nice frames - who needs playboy magazines when he can make tributes to you? you can tell which one is his favourite, with the crusty sludge stuck to the glass and wood protecting the flimsy picture

art definitely wants a footjob every now and then, every once in a while. it means he can tie up your hands while you get him off AND he still has two hands to play with you - a win win situation all around. he's not really into it strictly because it's feet, he just gets off on the thought of corrupting you more with such a taboo action

he has a love-hate relationship with piss too - he loves to have you obediently under him as he showers you with piss and cum, corrupting you a little more each time he marks you with his smell, but he hates because it masks your natural scent which is one of the few things that makes his head spin

if you get anxious or restless, he always has a cold body nearby.. oh you want something warmer? feel free to suckle on his soft cock or his sac while you cuddle his leg and fidget with the cloth of his pantleg

although he's gotten a lot better at regulating his personal hygiene since you met him, he doesn't always clean himself up - the musky and tangy stench of blood, sweat and grime permeates his suit until he scrubs clean

art loves it when you do filthy things for his pleasure, like sniffing his armpits while humping him or rimming him with his sweaty balls resting on your nose, making your brain go dumb

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

whenever art is thinking about being away for a few days to camp out at a certain location, he'll grab himself a clean rag and dedicate an entire night to getting you to cum on the cloth as many times as possible. it wouldn't be a pair of underwear from either of you - he hates wearing any type of clothing under the suit, even if it's your cum stained boxers - so it'd have to be a ripped piece of cloth from an old clown outfit. he'll jack you off and fuck you while holding it over your tip and even gag on your cock until the flimsy material is coated and probably permanently stained in your spend. he just wants a keepsake for the road and why not make it imbued with memories of the two of you enjoying yourselves? his own little cumrag to remember what he has back home, something special to return to!

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art craves the sensation of you throbbing under his tongue, the feeling of your pulse as you leak your pleasure all over his lips and the heavy musky taste slips down his throat

he'll get you a cute, sparkly plastic ring from a gachapon machine down at the arcade and fake proposes to you! later in the week, he'll break into a sex shop and bring home a matching cock ring (he's a romantic)

art has an obsession with your balls - nipping at them, having them slap against his chin or nose bridge as he messily takes as much as he can down his throat, you name it. expect greasepaint at the base of your cock and staining your pubes

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

if he's on top and riding, he'll put all his weight into choking you while he bounces up and down on your cock, eyes glinting with pride at your gasped thanks whenever he pulls you back from the brink of unconsciousness

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

art is obsessed with you whenever it's 'that time of the month' - you can barely get away from his wandering hands and quiet presence. he drops everything the moment you reach for your favourite snacks and heat pack, drags over a dark towel he keeps on hand for you. ever since he learnt that orgasms help relieve cramps and pain, he has felt a lot less selfish for wanting to ravage you while you're tender and bleeding. he has numerous photos of his bloodied cock framed by your ass cheeks or your warm cunt and he often takes videos on your phone of his length throbbing and oozing copious amounts of pink cum <3

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your puffy pussy imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, still slick despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole, soaking the fabric

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and pussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art pretends to talk and communicate with your cunt - acting out gestures as if holding a conversation with your clit while slowly coaxing you to cum and even gesturing at you to shush if you try to interrupt the important moment

eats devours pussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your clit and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. greasepaint might stain your thighs afterwards but it's a small price to pay for a talented clown's best efforts

art will find pretty lingerie for you to wear for him, parading around his hideout, making sure you know how hard he gets at your nipples and pussy covered delicately in lace

he flicks and circles your clit while you sleep, cumming all over your pussy before putting your panties back in place. he loves leaving little presents like that for you when you wake - a fuzzy head and a sticky and throbbing mess down there, strings and globs of cum connecting your thighs and the flimsy, soaked material

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

art has never had a handsome toy with a self-lubricating hole before - his fascination with your t-dick leads to endless nights of him experimenting on you with his mouth, fingers and cock to see what makes you tick. his favourite pastime is suckling on your tender dick while he pulses his fingers against your cervix, your whole body jerking from sensitivity as his deft fingers circle your sweet spots

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and boypussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he keeps a pair of your slick-stained boxers in his ol' bag of tricks, a little keepsake for his on-the-go orgasms - he's a sniffer for sure, securing it over his face so both his hands are free to use on his dick as he gets off to your scent

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

eats devours boypussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your cock and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. you both tiredly giggle after he's done - the face paint around his cheeks and lips is hopelessly smudged, especially after he licks his lips and grins at you. guess he'll have to redo it later, no harm done <3

he fucks you so hard and bruises your cervix to the point where you can only moan his name and whine when he properly pulls out and gives you water with a heatpack and blanket, genuinely scared he went too rough on your insides. if your legs fail after such a long night, he'll throw you over his shoulder or pick you up like royalty and use his inhuman strength to carry you around

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

art the clown is thrilled to have a pretty toy with parts he's familiar with! his fingers nudge your prostate as he suckles on your tip to draw out your sweet noises. he takes you down his throat with ease, tongue lapping at your base - the combination of art's deft fingers working your hole and his hot throat clenching your length brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast. he's always had a thing for seeing his black lip paint smeared on your balls

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your bulge imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, slick from your precum drooling and sticking to the fabric despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole

he insists on battering your prostate until you're shooting blanks - he never lets up on your poor hole until you're fully spent and your head is empty with only his name on your pretty lips

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through dressing up prettily and then stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge, chest and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

the clown loves to have you dolled up in lingerie and parading infront of him, bulge and hard nipple pressed against the soft and dainty fabric. his cock gets visibly hard at the sight of you and his head spins at the sensation as you shyly offer to help with his urge to take you then and there

if you're desperate for gender-affirming surgery, art will hone his skills in surgery and sterilization to safely give you an orchiectomy - pun intended. he'll practice and go through the motions for weeks if it means you are happy and he gets to care for you

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it, i'm writing this at 5am. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

_ _ _ _ _

@stonerinthelonlycorner

[sodapop-babydoll]

a thought: girl dad Darry.

Darry has only one child (he only wants one, he's already raised Soda and Pony anyway), one perfect little baby that he loves from the moment his lady tells him she's expecting. And while he knows he'd be happy no matter what, he secretly wants exactly what he gets nine months later:

A baby girl.

Darry, who grew up rough and surrounded by rough-housing, loud, fist-fighting, light-fingered boys and he loves 'em. He loves his brother, he loves his gang, but, oh, he wants something soft and sweet. Something just like his lady (who he thinks is out of his league), a pretty little thing. And she is pretty, that little baby swaddled in a pink and cream baby blanket, sleeping softly in her father's strong arms.

He's so, so in love with her and it shows in the way he speaks her name (softly, the softest way he's every said anything) and holds her (constantly, he never wants to let go) and worries over her (more then he should but it's just his way).

Baby Curtis is just like you in every way except one: her eyes. She has her daddy's eyes. Pony calls them ice and cold, you call them sea glass and so pretty, and Darry thinks that she wears them better then he does, all framed by thick lashes and looking up at him like he's the sun and stars. She's a daddy's girl from the moment she's born, always preferring Darry over everything else.

He loves dressing her up in pretty little dresses and tiny shoe, with ribbons in her hair (that he learns to do just for her). He attends every tea party and reads her stories and scares off monsters beneath the bed without question.

Calls his wife and daughters "his girls" and always adds something sweet to it...pretty girls, sweet girls, favorite girls. You're both his and he'll do anything and everything to keep you safe.

Baby Curtis is smart. Even from a young age, it was clear that she was clever and a quick leaner, much like her father. She does well in school and Darry is absolutely one of those dads that casually brags about his kid. She's a Girl Scout, does community service, is on the honor roll, straight A's, all that jazz. He is hard on her when it comes to school (and boys) but that's just because he wants her to do better then he did.

The hardest part about being a parent is that his own parents never got to meet his baby girl. He just knows that his mother and father would have adored his daughter and the fact that they never got a chance to be grandparents breaks his heart a little bit.

Soda comes home from the war in my canon and is the sweet uncle that spoils her. Presents, sneaking treats, always sitting her on his lap and telling silly stories, he knows how to make her giggle and chase away her sorrows.

Pony is the uncle that helps with homework any time and always has candy on him. He's not as sugary as Soda is but he's still sweet, in the quiet and over-protective way he's got about him.

She can't ever get away with ANYTHING because she's got extra uncles in the gang and there's always someone with an eye on her or an ear to the ground, reporting back to Darry in a heartbeat. He loves his baby but he won't let her get into trouble, nope, not even a little bit. Once Tim Shepherd caught her and a friend hitchhiking (Baby didn't recognize him but he knew her, Darry's always talking about her and showing off pictures) and picked them up, dropping them right off at Darry's workplace and drove away laughing at their trouble.

Darry would just be such a happy, loving dad to his little girl and I want that for him so bad.

Possible names for Baby Curtis (though I can actually see Baby/Babydoll being the name of Soda's daughter, I think Darry sticks to something for traditional): Stephanie (Effie), Christina (Chris, Chrissy, or Tina), Shannon, Dawn, or Loralie (Lori or Rory).

[rainbowbarnacle]

Please make a tea post so I can save it especially the pineapple ice cubes I need more info

Oh, like, different teas I like to make? Okay! :D

🍍Pineapple Tea🍍

The way I do it is really simple:

Buy a giant jug of already-made tea (I like gold peak!)

Buy a carton of pineapple juice

Freeze the juice into cubes, pour a little of it in the tea for extra flavor

And that's it. That's aaaall you gotta do.

There's all kindsa ways you can dress it up, but nine times out of ten I just do this and drink it by the gallon when it's hot out.

If you wanna get fancy with it, feel free to cold brew your own black (or green) tea, add actual hunks of pineapple fruit in there, add some orange juice, add some honey, add some coconut milk or sweetened condensed milk, whatever sounds good! (Also, pairing pineapple tea with coconut cookies? SO GOOD.) Put mint in the pineapple cubes if you like mint! Add a bit of boiled ginger root or some brown sugar and cinnamon for a little kick! Heck, last summer I used blue peaflower star-shaped ice cubes just because they were pretty.

(Peaflower petals don't taste like much, but they make a GORGEOUS blue, and if you put something acidic in there like lemon juice IT TURNS PINK. :D)

🍓Strawberry Tea🍓

I find this stuff sort of difficult to find where I live, so often I go the same route as the pineapple tea: grab a jug of black tea, grab a jug of strawberry juice, (ocean spray has a really nice cran-strawberry one I like) freeze the juice, mix, and enjoy. Super simple.

If I can't find strawberry juice, I dice some strawberries up and put it in a jar with some water and a bit of sugar for a few hours, then add *that* to the tea. (heck, it's really nice all by itself!)

What goes with strawberry? ANY DANG THING YOU WANT. I am particularly fond of lychee. Jasmine tea and rose petals pair really well with it too. Again, if you like mint, it's *really* nice with strawberry. And you know how if you put black pepper on strawberries they taste even strawberrier? (If you haven't tried this, go do it, it's magic.) Same goes with the tea, add some peppercorns or a teeny bit of chili powder or some ginger.

If you wanna drink it hot or cold brew a batch of your own, here are some brands that are also nice:

1. Strawberry Sensation

2. Adagio Strawberry Tea (this is also where I got the peaflower petals)

3. Any of Lupicia's Strawberry Teas they are HEAVENLY

🍏Apple Tea🍏

As with the pineapple and strawberry teas, it's totally fine to just go find some ready-made tea and mix it with some apple cider or apple juice for tasty low spoons fun. If you drink it iced, a bit of sugar and lemon juice brings out the apple flavor nicely!

I prefer drinking this stuff hot though. You know that Fall Drink post that was floating around? IF YOU HAVEN'T YET, TRY IT, IT'S AWESOME.

☕Chai Tea☕

So here's the thing about chai for me personally: I don't tend to drink it iced or sugary, but if you do like it iced and sugary, there are a couple of really nice chai tea concentrates:

Oregon Chai Latte

Tazo's Chai Latte (Forget the "skinny" nonsense, I just wanted to include an option with no milk so you can add whatever you want to it)

Pacific Chai isn't concentrated, but you can use it to make hot or iced chai and it's really lovely, not too sweet and super easy to work with. As for dressing up chai, I don't tend to! There's already so much going on with all the flavors, I just drink it as-is most days. Play with milk-to-tea ratios or sugar amounts all you like, figure out what's your jam.

I do know that mixing chai and coffee together (or chai and chocolate together) is guaranteed to make a feeling groovy kind of morning, at least if you have two thumbs and you're me. Iiii think that's all the tea blather I can think of for right now. Thank you for asking, anon, it was fun! Anybody reading this, feel free to add your own favorite things to do with tea. :D

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part eight

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 4k (4016)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part nine!

You stood still while the stylist took your measurements, occasionally jotting them down in a notebook. Another woman helped you hold your arms out and yet another, sitting further to the side, selected on the tablet the colors that looked best on you. A little shiver often ran down your spine, but it was one of pure emotion: after weeks and weeks of stopping, being about to return to the catwalk seemed more beautiful than a miracle

The agency, which you had discovered was called TraumLaufsteg, was a medium fashion agency that wasn't very famous in Germany, but had all the credentials to become one. The staff had welcomed you very well, and not even after half an hour of conversation, you were already predestined for the fashion show that would take place in a few days to open the new fashion season. From spending every day at home, you now often came back late, if not later than Michael, who was always busy with his training until late at night. It was a newfound pace of life, tiring for sure, but one you had been used to for several years. Exhausting, but glorious. And then, Michael made the difference: in the silence of your apartment, in the dark of curious eyes, your love was growing day after day

In the morning you woke up in the same bed, you had breakfast together or one of you made it for the other if he or you had to leave the house early, you were busy all day and in the evening, now tired, you had dinner together on the sofa and then went to sleep together again. It was a cycle that had accustomed you right away, that had not caused you a bit of discomfort at the beginning as had happened to you in the early days of your cohabitation with Gabriel. Everything with Michael came out so frighteningly naturally, and you loved it, maybe more than you loved him

The media suspected you were making a comeback on the catwalk, by now all the social networks knew that you often entered the headquarters of TraumLaufsteg. It was obvious, but the world was waiting for you, and you would repay them. They also knew that you now lived in Germany, but you had kept the fact that you lived in Kaiser's house a secret. Everything was returning to your beloved rhythm; everything was returning to normality leaving aside the sadness that had accompanied you for so long

You were seriously starting to live again

"From the selection I made, we could go for something in silver and purple. Maybe we could also dare with black" says the woman with the tablet, approaching. You nod, still standing still "I've already walked the runway with these colors, especially purple" you say, and the woman nods "I noticed, I also analyzed some of your old shows. We already have some pieces that we can let you try on, so we can already start with a base" says the woman, and you smile at her "I get it. Allright"

"Kristal, when you're done here, get the clothes in dressing room 27. We can let her try them right now" the woman says, and immediately one of the women gets up and disappears from the room, returning a few minutes later with something to try. The dress she is holding is long and dark purple in color, and is made of a shiny material that looks like velvet. The dress has a low neckline that is decorated with rhinestones and stones, that form an elaborate design that resembles a flower. The top of the dress is tight and features a v-neckline at the back. The bottom of the dress is a mermaid, with a skirt that falls tight to the knees before expanding into a wide train, and the sleeves are long and tight. You stare enchanted at the dress, which as soon as you try it on is immediately named as yours

“It’s really beautiful” you say excitedly, looking at yourself in the mirror as the women nod in satisfaction “It seems made just for you. Our stylist will be thrilled to know you’re wearing her favorite" says the woman who seems to be called Kristal. You give her a kind smile and you feel the same emotion for your very first fashion show, which happened several years ago now

"What do you think of the one the assistant drew?" one woman says, and after a few seconds of silence the other nods, sending her to another dressing room. The girl returns with something: a silver dress, off the shoulder, in satin with a thigh high slit; it features a draped bodice and a fitted waistline that flows into a flowing skirt. It looks good on you, but not as good as the purple one. Women seem to notice and add a few notes on the tablet and notebook "Let's try the black one"

Kristal returns with a black velvet dress with gold chains; is sleeveless and has a halter neck. The chains are attached to the dress at the shoulders and waist; is fitted at the bodice and flares out at the bottom. This is definitely better than the other

"You'll scare even our models already in the agency, trust me Y/n. You're already ahead of the game, and you will shine"

"If you order that shit again I swear I'll take all my stuff and leave the house" you say, chewing in disgust the dinner that Michael ordered this time. He laughs, nudging you as he takes another helping of his food "Stop it. It's not that bad" he says, but you would have every right to tell him that it is absolutely shit "I don't even know what's in it and I don't even want to find out" you say "It's just vegetables and yogurt sauce" he says, and you remain impassive "You're not going to change my mind, Micheal Kaiser"

It's more than midnight, you've been home less than an hour and Kaiser just twenty minutes ago. The agency kept you much longer than expected and he had something with Bastard Munchen. Sitting on the couch, next to each other, snug as mussels, you have dinner as you've become accustomed to: couch, TV turned on to the match replay channel and fairly unpleasant food. It's become a habit to be like this by now, completely messing up meal times; but only in the evening is the time when you can be completely close. And then you don't mind having Michael's arm around your shoulders, to keep you closer to him

"Today was the dress fitting, they gave me a really nice one. They say it could be one of the best catwalk comebacks in recent years" you say, lazily watching the television, which is showing the replay of a match that Michael played a few months ago. Ness appears on the screen, easily passing the opponents of the Colombian team

"Nothing I didn't expect" he says after swallowing the food "I was wondering something on the way home" he says. Benedict, a teammate, takes the ball after Ness's pass, dribbling past a boy who's taller than a two legged bear

"Like?" you ask turning towards him

"Usually when they offer us players a collaboration they give us all the information about the agency, whether it's fashion or some bullshit like that. They force us to read contracts hundreds of meters long just to get us to sign a stupid signature" he says, and you nod "Well, they give us a lot of information. But from what you've been telling me from the beginning, it seems to me that this agency hasn't given you much more information besides some that you asked for. It seems strange to me, that's all"

You think about his words. In reality he is not entirely wrong, taking away some information that you had, you were not told much. You do not deny that you had had a lot of other proposals from other agencies, but you had chosen this one because it seemed interesting to you. You had searched on the Internet, and beyond some basic information on their site or some other review, there was nothing else. The founder was unknown, you only knew that he was someone extremely rich who was more important in the world of photography than fashion. You had signed a contract with them pretty much the same day, but now because of this thing Kaiser had told you, you were thinking that accepting pretty much right away wasn't the best idea

You also had to admit that the only agency you had worked for was Gabriel's, which had practically always made you the best. You were inexperienced in this field.

"I hadn't thought about it, I have to be honest. But I think they did because they're not a very well known agency, and they probably don't know how contracts and everything work. I talked to a few other models and now that I think about it they seemed a bit perplexed" you say thinking

"So how long have you been working for the agency?" you ask, sipping a coffee that they just brought you "Oh! At least three years, or something like that" says the woman, who you've discovered is a little younger than you and on hers first catwalks "I'm glad! They all seem very welcoming, or at least at the beginning" you say, playing it down, and the girl laughs but you see her a little perplexed "Did I say something wrong?" you say, and he shakes her hands "No, no absolutely! I was just thinking... well, I can't complain about the staff, not even the photographers actually. But they're quite stupid, if I may say so, in their contracts or in their management" says the woman, and you find yourself a little surprised by her words "Like?" you ask "Oh, well... I was listed as their model but the contract had expired at least a year ago. Which I didn't know, let's be specific! I had to find out because of a coincidence... let's say they're not very precise about this, y'know" she says, and you nod "Did you have any problems too?" she asks, but you shake your head "Oh, no. Actually none. Or at least for the moment..." you say thinking about it "Yeah, maybe it was just my coincidence" she says sipping her drink

"But I think I'm safe. They're treating me like a precious jewel and at the same time I'm not afraid to pay a lawyer in case something happens" you say, and Micheal chuckles slightly at your words "I understand. Do as you wish. I'm just telling you to be careful, because I don't have a good feeling" he says, and you huff and rest your head on his shoulder "Less worries and more nice food" you say, and this time you're the one laughing because of Micheal's annoyed face

“Anyway, I was wondering…” you say, after a bit of silence. The TV was turned off a while ago, after the replay of Kaiser’s goal in the old game. The food boxes are now scattered on the coffee table, promising you that you’ll throw them in the trash before going to bed “Hmm?” he murmurs, stopping to run his hand up and down your back, while you’re lying on top of him “I didn’t tell you to stop. I was saying… the fashion show is coming up soon, right?” you say, and he nods "Less than a week. Or something like that" he says, and it's you this time who nods "Yes. The night of your game" you say "I already told you I'll be there. It doesn't take me that long to shower and come over to wherever you are" he says, huffing but affectionately "I know. But at the same time I don't want you to have to rush for a simple fashion show. You can just come backstage after I'm done" you say, and he shakes his head "It's your moment, a moment that you deserve by the way. How can I not be when I know my girl is going to shine?" he says

Even after all the kisses and nights spent together, this name still has a certain effect on you. He's used it a lot since you've been together, and every time it seems to strike a chord in you that sounds so loving for the boy called 'the emperor'. You smile almost spontaneously, tilting your head so that it ends up against his arm. Being loved again is so damn good that sometimes you wonder if you were seriously so stupid as not to notice Kaiser when you were comparing him to Gabriel

You were hating the cover, which you knew would last a long time, but you knew it was the best decision, although at the same time you knew how Micheal was ready to break it any time you wanted. It's just that now, with all the love you have, you feel like you don't deserve it because you're not used to it. You're not used to good morning kisses, hugs when you get home, caresses while you're doing something else. You're used to sharp jokes when you've done something slightly wrong, you're used to moments of silence when you have no desire other than to talk, you're used to an empty house for days on end without anyone bothering to come. You weren't used to all those little attentions that Gabriel had given you only at the beginning of the relationship, and that he did every now and then to keep you tied to his finger. You're used to your ex, and not to the wonderful boyfriend you now have and who you knew would always treat you well, in friendship and in a possible love. The difference is that now this boy was the same one who was kissing you. You didn't even know when he started, but it must have been a few seconds ago because his lips were still a tad cold. You kissed him back, resting your hand against his cheek as he continued to move his hand up and down your back, sending many small, beautiful shivers down your spine. You smile through the kiss, and when he pulls away a few millimeters it's only to come back rougher, but not before whispering something to you "You have no idea how much I just want to see you shine from now on. Act and live like the empress you are"

You were really fucked up. And you loved it.

The floral and sugary smell that could be felt in the room was gradually becoming stronger and more present. They were spraying it on the models, on their clothes, on their bags and on their accessories. Everything was now at the end and soon the most beautiful and absurd chaos ever would break out. For each model, and you could count at least 20, there were on average two or three assistants who fixed the make up or the dress. Instead, you had around you about ten assistants who for at least an hour did not let you take even a step forward. The purple dress was shining on you, and the makeup only made you more detailed according to Kristal. There were ten minutes left until the show started, and the thrills of emotion were getting stronger and stronger

You had announced on your social media account that you would be attending the show only yesterday afternoon. The media had exploded, literally exploded: the speculation of your return had just been verified as true, and the last spots of the show had already been booked by your fans. The organizers had even had to add another section of seats due to demand, and this was all because of you. Now it was just a matter of finishing the job, walking that damned catwalk and showing that you didn't give a shit about Gabriel anymore, that he had destroyed you but that you still had your life in your hands

"Two minutes, hurry up!" someone shouts, and the hands on you become even faster. You smile, because it's the only thing you know how to do, thinking that now you're really giving meaning to so many tears you've shed, that now you're really coming back, and that there's someone, an entire audience, waiting for you beyond this cloth. An audience in which you know there's also Michael, who after winning the match this afternoon has catapulted himself into the first row of seats, the closest to the catwalk and then to you

"One minute, get in line!" a woman shouts, and someone tells you how to move, putting you at the front of the line of people behind you, which now seems like at least 30. You nod at the assistants' last words of advice, which you don't really hear because you've been a professional for a few years and have learned them by heart: look straight ahead, take a firm step and the show goes on at all costs, literally all

The opening music starts. The cloth is hoisted above and a series of spotlights are projected towards you, who begins to walk straight towards the audience. The music chosen for you begins to reach your ears, and as soon as your figure is visible to the audience, the crowd erupts in a roar that you cannot describe. You smile determinedly, step controlled, emotions in order even if you literally want to scream with happiness. You are back, you are officially back on track

You walk, you show your dress, nothing you haven't done a million times, but this time it has a sweeter taste. The flashes of the photographers illuminate you, making the dark purple of the fabric respond. The crowd watches, tries to greet you, everyone at this moment has their eyes on you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, something they've never seen

"And after a break from the spotlight, the most anticipated return of the moment in the world of fashion: Y/n L/s, in a dress by German designer Ursula..." says the presenter, but you stop listening when, in the front row, you see Kaiser's face: he looks at you like the others, as if they had never seen a person like that, but with an affection that only you can understand. It's love, and you know it well. It's a reciprocated love, that you return with your eyes the moment you pass in front of him. You want to shine for everyone tonight, but most of all for yourself and for him, who gave you the push to start over

You walk until you reach the end of your shift, where you stop before the exit of the catwalk: you turn around and throw a flying kiss to the audience, who responds with such an energy that it makes you emotional, when you go back backstage. You return to the dark, and the moment of glory ends; the assistants and models still in line congratulate you, and you can only thank them gratefully. You shed a few tears, but they are of joy. You feel so damn alive right now

The show continues, the whole crowd appreciates every single dress, but especially yours. Almost an hour later you are back on the catwalk, along with all the other models after the final walk; you smile, there is someone crying but you don't blame them. You look at Michael for practically every second, and you really want to run and hug him, scream "see? I did it, I really did it!" but you know you have to wait a little longer before doing so

"...and after this speech, which I admit I made with my heart in my throat knowing the importance of this show, I would like to thank someone who is really important to me and for all the work that is behind all this" says the designer, after having concluded her speech. You look at her, curious about who she wants to name and of whom you know nothing. It is actually true, they have not yet given you the information you were talking about with Kaiser that evening

"I would like to ask the crowd to give a huge round of applause for Gabriel Dicardio!" says the woman

Gabriel. Gabriel Dicardio. Gabriel, your ex. The man who gave you the worst time of your life in the last few months and destroyed you. What the fuck is Gabriel doing here?. The boy steps onto the catwalk, waving to the crowd as he approaches the designer. They seem friendly with each other, as if they have known each other for years, so much so that he kisses her cheek as if nothing had happened: you don't remember him ever speaking to you about this woman during your relationship. You remain still, practically petrified. He knew you were here, he knew it perfectly from the beginning

"I think Ursula shouldn't thank me. The dresses are hers, great as always and each time they seem to be even more precise. Instead, I want to thank her for all her precision and the organizers of the fashion show, because they did a job without a single mistake. Being the second founder of the agency has always been close to my heart, because I know how much the fashion market here in Germany can still shine and bring great results" he says, and at the end of the sentence he turns to you, smiling at you. But you're not smiling anymore, you can't even breathe anymore since he's just a few meters away from you again

What does founder mean? Did he create this agency? Didn't he only have an Italian one?

"You shouldn't, Gabriel. In fact, it's me who's thanking you again. Rather, you know our tradition well... right? Come on, it should be even more pleasant than usual since she's there!" Ursula says laughing, and Gabriel nods "Definitely. Your tradition of always having the last photo with the guest of the evening taken with the main model of the evening... what a strange tradition, who knows who invented it" he says laughing, and your blood runs cold. You are the main model

You have to get closer to Gabriel again, and only now the feeling makes you want to throw up. Everyone pretends that there isn't a worldwide scandal going on between the two of you, as if he hadn't been throwing shit at you a few hours ago like he's been doing since this all started. You stand there, unable to move while the other models encourage you to keep going. You don't want to go on, you don't want to. You don't want to be even remotely in Gabriel's sphere of contact, to feel his hands on your body again. Petrified, you seek Kaiser's gaze, which shines with the same emotion as you: he is amazed, if not downright angry. He reflect yourself in his cerulean eyes, and you feel like you're about to have a panic attack if it's not already underway

The models push you towards Gabriel, who grabs you with one hand on your hip and the other in his pocket. The photographers start taking pictures of you together, even though you can't smile now, unlike him, who comes out perfect in the photos. A void forms inside you, eating you alive as you slowly disappear and the last part of your sanity goes away. Everyone laughs, jokes, lives. You are thinking about running away, about how disgusting his hands are on your skin and how the panic attack is becoming more and more present

"Smile. They're loving us" he whispers, while you don't even know how to move a simple arm because of the situation "Get ready, because the second act between us is about to begin"

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

[the-brash-spud]

Marvel's looks

So you know how it is at least an older canon established that Billy as Marvel looks like his dad or at least what he remembers his dad to look like? I personally lean into a second option of how he remembers his dad because it makes it more interesting plus it helps with the whole awkwardness of him looking like a semi-random or completely random (depends what canon you're going for) dead dude.

So here's the differences I see Billy as Captain having compared to his dad or things that come from his dad's little quirks!

Height: Billy remembers his dad as being massive because he himself was a tiny baby boy. So yeah. Marvel isn't a walking 6'4" feet tall dude because that's his "peak" or whatever but that's how tall comparatively Billy's dad looked like to him at when he was like 4 vs 8 years old.

Build: CC was the strongest man Billy has ever known. He could lift all of them: his mom, his sister and him; proudly proclaiming he is holding his entire universe in his arms. So naturally he was super strong which called for super muscles! So that's why Marvel is build like a tank while CC most likely had a healthy amount muscles from excavating and such but nowhere as much as Marvel and unlike Marvel would've also had a solid amount of extra squish too (we stand dad bods, lmao).

Cleanliness: You know how a decent amount of people have Marvel have a neat self-cleaning option that just comes with the magic form? I personally like the perpetually perfect hairstyle from one of the fanfics I read that joked about it. Even if this might not be something I'll always use to it's maximum extend. Either way. I like to think that the cleanliness of Captain Marvel comes from the fact that CC liked to be overall clean and put together when seeing people or generally outside around the public and generally portray himself as professional: as in wearing full business in casual business because he likes the feeling wearing a suit gives him (Yeah, I see CC to be a weirdo actually enjoying suits and his wife finds it to be an extremely adorable quirk she loves because they both get to be the dressed to the nines couple!)

Face: OK so this one is going to have a bit of sub bits here because I gave CC glasses. I know when he is shown he usually doesn't have them but I have a reason for it and I'll get to it:

4.1. Nose: The shape is different from CC's simply because glasses hide a decent portion of the nose bridge depending on what sort of glasses you get. But generally the bridge would be a bit larger for Marvel.

4.2. Eyes: So you know how in older depictions of Marvel he always squints? You know when people also squint? When they're trying to see better! So yeah for me Marvel has a perpetual squint because he doesn't wear glasses unlike his dad. Who, whenever he took them off, also squinted to see (sometimes exaggerating it to make his kids laugh). So Marvel's form subconsciously squints since there's no glasses on his nose. lol.

4.3. Also eyes: Additionally since CC wears glasses and squints when he takes them off, his vision has to be decently bad. You know what happens when you wear strong glasses? They warp your face. So additionally Marvel has smaller eyes then CC would've had. :P

So yeah that's all I have for now but might edit it if I ever come up with more things like that. If you like the concept feel free to either use it or add to it. This is all a complete fanon. It's for complete funnsies. But I would still like to hear what you think about it!

[krisdreaming]

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader (He refers to you with fem terms i.e. girlfriend)

WC: 940

Summary: The different ways, over the course of your relationship, that Kuroo gets to call you his

A/N: Hihi, it's still Kuroo hours <333

i.

It's becoming something of a tradition, Tetsurou tells you. In spring, at the break of the school year, he meets up with his old teammates in this little hole-in-the-wall bar Yaku had discovered. You have to try the karaage, he insists as the two of you walk down the street hand in hand. It's a surprisingly temperate spring day, and he thinks it's cute how excited you are to meet his friends. He's excited for you to meet them, too.

Finally, you reach the spot, and he pulls open the door for you. Inside, Kai and Yaku are already seated at a table, and they both turn and smile as you approach.

"Hi guys," Tetsurou grins as you shrug out of your jacket and drape it across the back of your chair. They're both looking at you curiously, and he can't help but draw out a smug silence until you you turn to him with a quirk of your eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" You prod.

"This is my girlfriend," He finally introduces with a hand barely brushing the small of your back. "Y/N."

Yaku and Kai introduce themselves as you both take your seats, but he's not paying much attention. He's too busy tasting the words my girlfriend on his lips, admiring the way they roll so effortlessly from his tongue. He's still in a little bit of disbelief that it's you. You're sitting beside him, laughing behind your hand at something Yaku just said, and he can't help the smile that quirks at his lips.

He isn't sure how long he spends just watching you, but suddenly you're tipping your head back in more raucous laughter. Judging by the look on Yaku's face, he's undoubtedly said something at Tetsurou's expense. You rest your hand on his arm as your laughter trails off, and he can't even find it in himself to be chagrined at Yaku's smirk.

You're his girlfriend, and he likes the sound of that.

ii.

The Christmas dinner is really fancy. The Volleyball Association certainly knows how to treat its employees well, you'd remarked the moment you walked through the door. Even though he's dressed for the occasion, Tetsurou can't help feeling just a little out of place in this high-end banquet room. You're dressed to the nines, though, and look just like you belong in this sort of high society.

"Stop it," Is all you say when he tells you this, swatting him on the arm. You're looking around trying to disguise your awe, taking in all of the decorations as Tetsurou scouts out each of the tables looking for your names.

Right as he spots your seats, he's met by his boss, who greets him warmly, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Komatsu-san," he says after the initial greetings, hand finding your elbow. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée." He still can't quite believe that's a word he gets to use. You smile and shake his boss's hand, making a formal greeting as Tetsurou watches you with pride.

"It's lovely to meet you," His boss finally says before slipping away, off to greet someone else.

"He seems like a nice man," You comment as Tetsurou pulls out your seat before taking his own.

"He is," Tetsurou agrees quickly, distracted by the way the lights in the room reflect off of your ring as you reach for your glass of champagne. "Your ring looks extra sparkly tonight," He adds in a lower voice, for your ears only. You turn your hand gently, admiring the ring, and turn to grin at him. It's still so new that looking at it is a novelty for both of you.

"I think that's the first time I've ever introduced you as my fiancée," He adds softly, feeling the thrill again at the words. Every time he says it, he's reminded that you've actually agreed to be with him forever, and he feels a familiar warmth curling in his middle.

iii.

Tetsurou has been keeping an eye on the moving trucks and commotion next door for the past few days. Finally, it seems like the new neighbors have gotten settled in. The two of you have been meaning to go over and introduce yourselves, but so far you haven't had the chance.

One evening after getting home from work, he walks to the mailbox and finds the new neighbors working in their flower beds.

"Hi!" The man greets with a wave, dusting off his hands and crossing the yard towards Tetsurou, the woman close behind him. "You must be our new neighbors," He greets, extending his hand for Tetsurou to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Tetsurou grins. "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou. We've been meaning to introduce ourselves, but it's never quite worked out," He admits sheepishly.

The neighbors wave it off and introduce themselves, and they've just begun to chat about the neighborhood when Tetsurou hears footsteps on the walk behind him.

"I thought I heard you get home!" You say as you approach, smiling amiably at the new neighbors. "I was wondering what was taking you so long," You laugh, joined by the neighbor couple.

"This is my wife," Tetsurou introduces you, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. You greet the new neighbors, but he takes a few moments just enjoying the feel of you next to him. Even after all this time, introducing you as his still never fails to make him feel the slightest bit giddy. He doesn't think the sound of the words my wife will ever get old.

[whiskeythefishski]

Prompt: The reason for the smoshalike channel is because Ian and Anthony secretly got married 👀 the cast knows, but the public doesn't

First ficlet request! I may have gotten a little carried away on the word count... oops...

The Sendoff

Ianthony - 1236 words - Rated G

"And in terms of the shows you already love on this channel, you're going to keep seeing them too," Anthony says with an easy smile. 

"And, cut!" Nicole calls from behind the camera. "That's perfect, Anthony. I think we're good to go."

"Awesome," he exhales, standing up and wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "Ian, how are we doing on time?"

Just out of view of the cameras, his husband—his husband!—looks up from his watch and smiles. "Still running early," Ian says, relief obvious in his voice.

Anthony crosses the room to him, lacing his inked fingers through Ian's unmarked ones. The production lights glint off of their matching gold wedding bands, classic and simple. Ian looks up at him with blue eyes that shine like the sun on a clear day. Anthony knows no real sunshine could ever compare.

"I'm so sorry again," he half-whispers, ghosting his lips over Ian's knuckles just to watch him blush. "God, if it were any other video—"

"Anthony, seriously, it's fine," Ian laughs. "But if you're all set…"

"Yeah. Let's go," Anthony says. "Nicole, if we're good, Ian and I are gonna take off."

"Absolutely!" Nicole trills, dashing over to wrap him in a warm hug. "And I'm so sorry, guys, seriously. I don't know how the original footage got corrupted, but thank god we caught you before you left. Y'all are lifesavers."

"Well, it wouldn't have been right for the fans to hear this from anyone else," Anthony says as Nicole squeezes his shoulder and pulls away. "Let's just hope they don't flip too bad when they hear the real news."

"Have an incredible honeymoon, you two," Alexcina calls.

"Thank you guys," Ian says. "Now, if you all don't mind, I think my husband and I have somewhere to be."

Anthony grins, squeezing Ian's hand where it's still entwined with his. He knows Ian put a little extra sauce on the word "husband" as a bit, but he'll never tire of hearing it anyway.

They turn to leave, only to find Amanda Barnes blocking the doorway. "Wait!" she yells. "You can't leave yet!"

"...why?" Ian asks, raising an eyebrow. "Amanda, we have a flight to catch."

"Because, um, because," Amanda stutters, tossing worried looks around the room.

"Amanda, is everything okay?" Anthony asks.

Just then, the walkie on her hip crackles to life. "Amanda, we're ready in the foyer," says a voice that sounds suspiciously like Marcus.

Amanda exhales, dropping her arms. "Okay," she says with a crooked grin. "Now you can leave."

"What the fuck do you have pla—"

Ian's cut off as Anthony pushes the door open to a deafening roar. It takes a moment for his vision to adjust to the near-blinding fluorescent lights, but when it does he's greeted by the sight of nearly the entire cast and crew, dressed to the absolute nines and cheering like they're at a Beyonce concert. They flank the path to the exit like a phalanx of adoring fans—or, Anthony realizes, pieces coming together in his mind's eye, like wedding guests waiting outside a church for newlyweds.

"What is this?" Ian yells over the din as Mallory and Erin appear, shoving matching costume wedding veils onto his and Anthony's heads and small bouquets into their free hands. 

"Surprise!" the girls giggle in unison, stepping back to reveal their bewildered bosses. 

"Go on, then! Don't just stand there, you have a flight to catch!" Nicole laughs from the studio behind them, giving Anthony a playful shove. 

Tentatively, he takes a few steps forward, his hand still locked in Ian's. Someone—Spencer, maybe?—wolf whistles, and people start tossing handfuls of rice and confetti in the air. The confusion melts into joy as they continue down the makeshift aisle, their friends leaning out to shake their hands or pull them into quick hugs. He looks over to see Ian laughing, joy plain on his face as Courtney pulls him into a warm embrace. Both of them have the beginnings of tears in the corners of their eyes.

When they finally reach the parking lot, they find that Ian's car has been given the full wedding treatment. Even from the door, Anthony can see the cabin is full to bursting with red and blue balloons and a gaggle of Kickstart and LaCroix cans have been haphazardly tied to the back bumper. "Not beating the marriage allegations," reads a beautifully calligraphed sign in the back windshield.

"Guys," Anthony says in awe. "You really didn't have to do all of this."

"We know," says Chanse, resting his chin on Anthony's shoulder with a cheeky smile.

"But you deserve it!" Angela chimes in.

"We couldn't be happier for you," Erin says, a rare moment of sincerity. She gathers him and Ian into a quick hug, then pulls away, steeling her face into its usual expression of mild boredom. "Now get the heck out of here, will ya? And I better get pictures from Romania or whatever weird ass place you two dorks picked."

 "We love you too," Ian murmurs, a shade more earnest than he'd allow on a normal day, and she cracks a real smile. Anthony's heartstrings tug a little more, playing a happy little tune inside his chest. 

They allow themselves to be shepherded into the car, pausing only to toss their bouquets into the crowd; Anthony nearly cries laughing at the sight of Chanse and Trevor elbowing people out of the way to try and catch them. It's Bailey and Arasha who succeed though, earning their own set of "oooooohs" from the crew. Shayne and Damien help clear balloons off the seats so the newlyweds can actually fit. 

"Thank you guys!" Anthony yells as he slides into the passenger seat. "We love you all so much! See you next week!" Courtney blows him a kiss and he pretends to catch it in the air, pressing his hand to his stubbled cheek. She claps harder, a single joyous tear streaking down her cheek. 

"Well," Ian laughs when they're finally situated, his hand resting on the gearshift, wedding ring sparkling in the late morning sun. "Ready to go?"

Anthony leans in and kisses him, basking in the sweetness of the moment. Ian's blushing when they break apart. 

"Yeah," Anthony says, resting his ringed hand atop Ian's. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Ian grins and shifts into first gear. They sail away on a river of whoops and cheers, still smiling all the way to the airport. 

-

"Rock?" Nicole calls, knocking on the cubicle wall before she ducks into the editing bay. "Hey, you wanted to see me?"

"Hey, Nicole. Yeah, I think we might have a little problem," Rock calls from his computer. "Come take a look."

She traipses in and squints over his shoulder at the screen. He's working on the Smoshalike announcement. A frame of Anthony dominated the screen, sitting nonchalantly on the couch with his hands folded together. For the life of her, she can't tell what the problem is.

"What's wrong?" she asks, and Rock looks up at her like she's nuts. 

"Seriously?" he asks, zooming in on Anthony's hands. "Look."

It takes her a moment, but she finally gets it: the bastard had forgotten to take his wedding ring off. It sits on his finger like an elephant in a linen closet, just waiting to be unleashed on the Internet at large.

"Fuck," she says.

[monkepawbz]

Kintsugi

Y/N and Wade have been married for several years now, and Wade is feeling extra sappy when Y/N announces she's pregnant for the second time with a second little girl. Wade reminisces on how Y/N, a former scientist, was able to save Wade all those years ago from the biggest threat he ever had: himself.

Warning: Lewd language and talk about sex and pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised (this is a Deadpool x Reader...obviously this rating is Mature at minimum...)

The scientist eventually got dressed and went downstairs to search for some food, a little anxious about how she was supposed to tell Ellie about the fact she wasn't going to be an only child anymore. Wade and Y/N's daughter, Ellie, had just turned nine years old and the couple had decided now was a good a time as any to add a new face to the family.

Wade followed her downstairs, his bare feet padding against the floor. "Hey, peanut? You okay?" he asked, noticing her tension. He leaned against the counter, watching as she rummaged through the fridge. "You're thinking about how to break it to Ellie, aren't you?"

"I am, yeah." She nodded pensively, reaching into the fridge and grabbing the whipped cream. She squirted some into her mouth and sighed, then turned back to look for something else in the fridge.

Wade chuckled and shook his head.

"You're really going to use whipped cream as a coping mechanism, huh?"

He pushed off the counter and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Hey, maybe I can help you come up with a plan. You know, we are married for a reason. Or is that lil ring on that finger worthless now?" Wade joked, holding up his own hand to show his wedding band. It gleamed in the soft sunlight, making Y/N relax slightly upon seeing it.

"You're right, Wade. I'm sorry. I just...I dunno...what if she gets mad? Is all...'waah, you guys are totally ruining my life!' Or something..." The woman found some stuff to make a ham sandwich and grabbed it, setting down the whipped cream in the process. She shut the fridge door with her hip and walked over to the kitchen counter to start assembling her lunch.

Wade's arms tightened around her waist as he leaned in close, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're thinking about this all wrong. Ellie loves us both, and she'll adjust to the new addition just fine. And if she doesn't...well, we'll deal with that when the time comes." He nuzzled her ear. "Besides, I've got a plan. We can make it fun! We can have a family meeting and explain everything together." Wade offered, which made Y/N relax slightly.

"How soon should we do this? We have no idea if it worked today. For all we know, we might have to keep trying to get me pregnant. After all...they taught us in high school that getting pregnant a second time was so much harder than the first time, Wade..." she rambled nervously. Wade gave her a lopsided grin, finding her as adorable as the day they first met.

Wade's grip on her waist relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I know all about the stats and stuff. But we're not gonna worry about that right now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He pulled back and looked at her with a serious expression. "Let's just focus on enjoying this moment for now. We've got our little bundle of kickass growing inside you, and we should be celebrating that! The second addition to the Deadpool family! Hot damn, I'm like Bruce Wayne collecting kids here!" He joked.

"But we don't actually know yet...we only just tried less than an hour ago...what if it didn't take?" She frowned, finally finding making a sandwich. She offered it to him, opting to make another one for just herself if he accepted the lunch. Wade graciously took the sandwich and watched as she grabbed him a plate from the cabinet behind her, giving her a silent 'thank you'. She smiled, then sighed as reality crashed back down onto her.

Wade's face lit up with a mischievous grin as he bit into the sandwich, groaning happily at how good it tasted.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're so worried about it not taking that I think we need to celebrate either way," His blue eyes sparkles with amusement as he continued. "Win or lose, we're having fun today. And if it didn't take...well, we'll just have to try again soon, won't we?~"

"I guess you're right. It not working just means more sex for the both of us, huh?" she smiled slightly, working on making her own sandwich quietly. Y/N giggled at how Wade hopped up and down excitedly, his sandwich gripped tightly in his hands.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yeah! More sex is always a good thing in my book. And who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and it'll take on the second try," He chuckled to himself, taking another bite of his sandwich. "But even if not, I'm happy to keep trying...for science."

"Hmm, I think you just miss me and all the hot, raunchy sex we used to have before we became parents, don't you?~" Y/N giggled. "We both became so busy what with you being a dad and becoming more of an anti-hero and me switching jobs to stay at home with El."

Wade's face turned bright red as he coughed, trying to play it cool. "What? No way, peanut! I just...I mean, yeah, okay fine. You're right. Being parents is awesome and all that jazz, but let's be real...we used to have some crazy hot times in the bedroom," He winked at her mischievously. "And I'm not saying we can't get back to those times now that Ellie's getting older."

"So you dig the mom bod?" she asked self-consciously. Wade nodded eagerly.

"Uh, a doy, my little MILF. Of course I dig the mom bod, sugar tits. You always looked bangin' but the way you got all curved up makes me hard as a rock God DAYUM." He flirted, spanking her ass playfully. Y/N yelped, her face turning bright red in response.

"Wade, knock it off..." she laughed, clearly flustered.

"Why should I, pookie bear? I'm just giving you some good ole fashioned Wade Wilson luvins! I wanna make my dear wifey feel better, and what better way than doing what I do best? Being a vulgar and annoying asshole to her?" Wade grinned, the smile almost reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"There's that smile, firecracker! I love having such a sexy wife all to myself! Not once have I wanted anyone else as soon as you strutted your way into my life, pretty girl." Wade flirted, lightly spanking his wife's ass again and howling obnoxiously like a wolf. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she playfully tried to swat at Wade's hand, but he was too quick and continued to tease her. She let out a little squeal of delight as he spanked her ass, feeling a rush of excitement course through her veins.

"Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!" She laughed, trying to maintain a stern expression while secretly enjoying all the attention.

"Nuh uh, no. I vowed to make you feel good today, and that means I gotta get those feels back up to the good status." He whispered, moving behind her and cupping both her breasts. He softly massaged both, feeling her melt slightly against his warm hands.

"That's it, baby. Let me take care of you today. I wanna make today all about you. You've done so much for our family and have always been there for me, even when I was a blabbermouth of a Merc. Yet you always seemed to see the good in me. You remember that talk we had all those years ago? About the kintsugi thing?" He asked, his voice turning to a low rumble as he continued to massage her breasts. She sighed and leaned her back against his chest, relaxing even more as they stood together in the middle of the kitchen. The sunshine illuminated her hair, making it even more shiny as it framed her face just right.

"Yeah, I think so. Something about us fixing each other like the kintsugi concept, yeah?" Y/N asked tentatively. Wade nodded, kissing her neck softly.

"You're a damn good scientist, baby. Never let that go, okay? You always talk big shit about me being an anti-hero now...but you're really the one who deserves more praise. You saved my life. If it wasn't for you, I'd still probably be semi-homeless, addicted to drugs and addicted to meaningless relationships as a merc. You saw someone so genuinely fucked up and decided...'I want that one'. And dammit, I can't lie, your stubbornness really came in handy this time." Wade chuckled softly, a warm smile on his lips. "Plus, that serum you made all those years ago gave me my looks back. Now our daughter has a normal looking dad and never has to know what I looked like before. And yeah, you didn't mind when I was all mutated and cancery, but I did, peanut...I did...cause why would such a goddess like you want anything to do with some freak like me...?" He hid his face against her back. Dammit, he hated being vulnerable, but he knew Y/N needed to know the truth. Over the years he had become a lot more sappy thanks to her.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she felt Wade's words wash over her. She wanted to hold him close, but he continued to hide his face against her back.

"Wade, stop it," She whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're being ridiculous...I loved you then and I love you now. You were never a freak to me...you were always my broken thing of beauty." She smiled softly, feeling a lump form in her throat.

"Oh come on...let's face the music, Y/N. I don't think life would be as good or even as easy if I didn't look like my old self again...you really gave me a whole-ass second chance, babe. You brought me back to life and screamed in my face 'YOU MATTER' until eventually you got me believing it, too. That's damn impressive if you ask me. You...managed to fix the Merc With A Mouth." Wade moved to stand in front of her and cupped both her cheeks with his hands, causing her to look up at him and set down her sandwich on the counter.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at Wade, her voice barely above a whisper.* "You're making me cry again, dammit," She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"But you know what? I don't care. Because when I look at you...I see the man I fell in love with. The one who was broken and lost, but still had so much heart. And that's what I fixed...not just your face." She smiled softly, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"How the hell did a devil like me get an angel like you, sweet stuff?" Wade laughed, voice heavy with emotion. Damn, now HE wanted to cry a little. Fuck, being a husband and father had made him go soft. Whatever, it's not like he needed to be overly cocky at the moment, anyways.

"You're no devil. You just needed someone to talk to. Someone to actually listen to the shit you were saying. I don't think anyone did before, did they?" Y/N asked softly, and Wade nodded.

"When you're a merc like I was, talk was kinda cheap in the grand scheme of things, ya know? But well, surprisingly I'm happy I decided to become less of a mercenary and more of an anti-hero. Maybe the Avengers will finally take me on, yeah?" His blue eyes shined with hope as he looked at her. She smiled warmly at him and reached up to ruffle his fluffy brown hair.

"Wade, they would be lucky to have a guy like you on their team." Y/N said.

The couple embraced, swaying slowly in the middle of the kitchen. They were happy, and that's all that really mattered in the end.

[indigosunsetao3]

I would like to request a comfort story in which either Kyle or Johnny are comforting a Reader who has been slowly enduring an increasingly awkward, hurtful, and one-sided childhood friendship over the past few years. I know these guys would never make Reader feel passed over or unworthy.

(This may or may not be inspired by my current situation with my roommate. I understand now why it is common advice to never move in with a close friend. 🫠)

Oh no! I'm so sorry you're going through this 😔. Living with someone can be so difficult, and things can be even rougher when it's a friend and things start to sour. I promise I value you. I enjoy all our back and forth, and I always look forward to your comments! And you know what? Kyle (and Johnny) for sure would as well. Hope this helps a bit 💙

What are you doing?

You sigh and reach out for your phone sitting on the nightstand and drag it toward you.

What I'm always doing.

You hit send roll back on your back and start mindlessly flipping through your apps. Another night left alone in your room. You thought maybe tonight, just maybe, it would be a little better. You had been so excited to tell your friend about the promotion. Maybe go out to dinner together, window shop, stop at the new smoothie place for dessert. Do the things you used to do when you were younger, and life wasn't as complicated. Or weird.

But again, you were let down.

They barely acknowledged what you had to say, clearly absorbed in whatever was on their phone. Or whoever. And when you paused to see if they had anything at all to say to you, they just delved into their day. Their issues. And their plans that didn't involve you in the least. Except to ask a favor and feed their cat.

Years of being friends, back when you used to gush about your crushes while walking to school, was seemingly wasting away. Moving in together had always been the goal, the dream. Who needed other people when you had one another? Then, when you were old enough and finally found that special person, you'd live next door to one another, your families blending and blissful. Friends until the end.

But it seems you are the only one who has continued that dream. You hold onto it and try to breathe life into it, hoping it was just a weird rough patch in your friendship. But life was taking the two of you to different places. And while growing apart happens, you never expected it from them. Not like this anyway.

Get out of bed and go do something. Like what? I'm tired of going out to eat by myself. Then don't go by yourself. Who am I going to go with? I was asked to feed the cat by my roommate while they went out with their new friends. Again. Me You're...well, wherever you are. Did you want to facetime? I can make some sad macaroni. I'm about ten minutes away from your place so put some clothes on. When did you get home? Nine minutes, you're wasting time and I'm starving. I will drag you to the Thai place in pajamas.

You shoot up out of bed and frantically look at yourself. Kyle knew you too well, even if you hardly ever got to see him these days with his work. He still managed to figure out your habits through texting and facetime, or at least took the time to pay attention.

Grabbing the freshest clothes you can find, you throw them on and make your hair as presentable as possible. You know the Thai place he's talking about, it's just down the street and a little hole in the wall. There's no need to get overly dressed, but you have an extra minute to throw on some moisturizer and wipe away the smeared makeup from the day that you hadn't washed off yet.

And right on time there's a knock on the front door.

Slipping your shoes on, you whip open the door to see Kyle standing there. He's still in the clothes he traveled in based on the crumpled look, and his eyes reflect exhaustion. But the smile he gives you is anything but tired.

"Jacket," Kyle says with a nod toward the rack by the door. "Figured we could walk, and it's a little cold."

"You should have told me you'd be home!" You exclaim as you yank a hoodie off the hook and work on slipping it over your arms. You wrestle with it for a second before Kyle untucks the hood so you can put it on properly.

"It was last minute," he replies as you finally get situated, shutting the door to keep the nosey cat in, then leap onto him for a hug. When he laughs and wraps his arms around you, you sink further into him, savoring the hug you haven't felt in weeks.

"How long are you going to be back for? Was it just you that got leave?" You inquire as he pushes the front glass door of the apartment complex open for you to walk through.

"Not here to talk about me," Kyle answers as he gently maneuvers around you. He walks closest to the street, keeping you between him and the buildings. "Tell me about the promotion and everything else…then we'll get to me."

So you do. You delve into everything, including all the hard work you've put in, the long hours, and all the accolades you've received. He already knows a lot about it, but he still stays engaged while you talk. His eyes remain locked on you while you both eat, and he's always grinning as you babble about things that probably go over his head.

"And why were you hiding alone in your room this evening?" Kyle asks after you wrap up, and he shoos your hand away when the check comes. "If I didn't get in so late, we would have been out on the town. As you should have been."

"You know why," you say with a small sigh as you pick at the last bit of noodles on your plate. "It's like they don't even…care. I'm just there."

"Then you go out without them!" He states as if that were obvious. "You don't need them to have fun. Go find people, there are plenty of people that want your company."

You don't answer, just hum around your fork before setting it down on the plate. You know he's right, but no one talks about how hard it is to make friends as an adult. There isn't the easy sharing toys on the playground option, nor are there school allies when the teacher is being intolerable. And friends at work? Always a risk and never long lasting when one of you inevitably gets a new job.

"You can make more friends," Kyle chastises as he nudges your foot under the table with his. "You won me over," he smirks.

"I love you," you answer with a laugh, "but I do not want to make anymore friends if that is how I have to do it."

Piccadilly had been more than enough for you in this lifetime.

"Well, what do you want to do now? I mean, we can always still go downtown," he looks at his watch before looking at you. "But I have a feeling I already know what you want."

"Movies and ice cream," you state with a nod before linking your arm in his heading out of the restaurant.

Fully expecting the apartment to still be empty, you nudge the door open with your shoulder only to be hit with music and laughter. Lots of laughter. It halts you in your steps, and you look into the living room where your friend is with their friends playing some sort of game on the coffee table.

"Oh," your friend states, standing up suddenly awkward. "I…thought you were in your room." They gesture to the group, "it was my turn to host game night..and I didn't think you'd be interested." They glance at Kyle and you already know what is coming. "Would you like to join?" An invite you weren't afforded and was only being offered now because they were put on the spot.

"No worries," Kyle states with a saccharine smile that does not meet his eyes. “We don't need a pity invite for your…" he gestures vaguely at the group sitting in silence, staring. With that, he takes your hand and guides you back toward the bedroom, careful to shut the door a smidge too loudly.

"Kyle," you hiss as you sit down hard on your bed.

"Nope. You don't get to be upset with me," he states as he shoves your ice cream at you with the plastic spoon. "You get to be upset with them. It's time you figure out that being second or last choice is not an option."

He takes a seat next to you on the bed and wrestles the wrapper off his spoon before tossing it in the trash and looks at you expectantly.

"We've been friends since we were kids," you start as you look at him, the ice cream freezing your hands.

"That," he points with his spoon, "is not a friend. They thought you were here and didn't even bother to ask? They don't ask about you or how you are doing; it's always about them." He takes another bite of his ice cream to let you process. "I'm not saying I need to be your new best friend…but you need to find another one because that is not it."

You sigh and finally take a bite of your dessert, though it doesn't taste nearly as good as you had hoped. Disappointing truth has that unfortunate side effect.

"I know you're right, it's just…hard," you reason with a small shrug. "It's like a breakup. No one talks about how breaking up with a friend works."

"You don't have to return their things in a box and pour sugar in their petrol tank," Kyle jokes, "I may have had a pissed ex or two in the past." He tacks on at the look you cut him. "Just…start giving that distance back. Don't be there at their beck and call, don't show up for them when they can't even bother to check if you're even home."

"I know," you huff before stabbing your ice cream with the spoon and adjusting on the bed. "Speaking of showing up," you raise an eyebrow, "How long is your leave?"

"I have to catch a plane back at ten tomorrow," Kyle answers nonchalantly with a small shrug as your eyes widen. "Quick turn around."

"Kyle! You're going to be travelling longer than you were even here!" You exclaim. "And you look exhausted as it is! You need to go to sleep. Forget the movie." You move to rise from the bed, but he holds a hand up.

"Friends show up for friends," he states as if it were as simple as that. "Pick a movie. I can't guarantee I'll make it to the end awake, but I'll do my best."

You hesitate as you watch him, but he simply inches back on your bed and settles on the pillows, staring at your television, waiting. Knowing you aren't going to win the argument, you grab the remote and decide on a cheesy action movie.

As you both sit there laughing at the absurdity of the action, Kyle picking apart everything that is not realistic, you realize something. That while Kyle said he doesn't need to be your new best friend, you are fairly certain he's stolen that spot without even trying.

[love-toxin]

Current thoughts: a cottagecore life with harley where my sole job is to be his cutesy housewife tending to the chickens and being barefoot and pregnant in cute dresses 🤰🥵

:)!

(cws: fem!darling, pregnancy)

“What're you doing out here?” You could feel Harley's voice before you registered his tough words; it rumbled in his throat and felt like it could shake the earth at times. Especially when he was really mad.

But he wasn't mad today, you could tell by the way he hurried over to the chicken pen where you stood, and chose to climb his way over the fence rather than unlatch the gate. That would be a waste of time, and it was obvious by the muddy spots on the knees of his jeans and his rolled-up sleeves that he'd rushed out of the barn at a moment's notice to get to you. The ladies scattered at the heavy feet barrelling through the little patch of yard, but they soon started crowding around his boots and clucking softly when they realized it was just their favourite farmer. He reached out to pry the bucket from your grasp, a hand already steadying you by the hip–and he only passed his gaze over you for a second before it dropped to the huge, swollen belly under your checkered mint dress.

“You're such a worrywart.” 

“It's cold out here.” He insisted, already unbuttoning his overshirt. “Besides, you shouldn't be bending over.” 

“I can!” 

“You shouldn't, though.” That gentle, admonishing tone of his could be frustrating at times, but more often than not it was just sweet. He slipped the sleeves of his thick flannel over your hands and set the feed bucket down, entirely unconcerned about the ladies pecking at it to sneak some extra food. “The baby'll be here any day now.” 

As he said so, the telltale ache of a kick startled you into clutching your belly, and your knees trembled a little bit as you groped for the side of the pen to keep steady. But knowing him, of course, he grabbed you with both arms and held you upright all on his own without a moment's hesitation. Harley cradled you into his chest and slid a hand under your bump, just to earn a deep sigh of relief from your lips when he lifted the weight of it up and off your suffering spine. 

“Hey,” He muttered down at your propped-up belly. “Be nice to your mom.” 

“Tell her to hurry up and come out, too.” You joked lightly, just to wince as she shifted around. “I'm sick of being a whale.”

Despite the scowl on his face, Harley couldn't be gentler as he maneuvered you back against his chest to hold up your bump with both hands. “You're pregnant, not a whale.” 

“Feels like it.” You mumbled, just to feel a nip at your ear as Harley leaned down to mutter into it. 

“Toldja to quit it. You've got my kid in here.” It was much harder to reject his notion when he rubbed his warm palms all over your swollen belly, soothing the taut skin that had stretched past being comfortable months ago. “My little girl. She's gotta grow so we can have her around a long time.” 

“I know,” You sighed into him. As soon as you turned your head, your lips brushed against his bicep squeezed around you. “But-” 

“But nothin’.” He interrupted you with a kiss, and a squeeze of both hands on your belly. “You better stay nice n’ fat so I know my baby's healthy.” The breeze blew through both your legs and sent your skirt fluttering around your bare feet, which only hastened your husband in ushering you inside while simultaneously not letting you lift a finger. He practically carried you into the house and sat you down at the kitchen table, just so he could open the fridge and pour you a glass of lemonade while you braced your sore stomach. Even at nine months old, your little girl could certainly kick the crap out of you–but she was Harley's kid, after all, and you'd already had nightmares about how big she'd be to deliver when she got here, but that was something you could only worry about when it happened. 

“Thanks.” Your smile lit him up as you took a sip, and he rubbed his rough hand up and down your back while you took a couple minutes to sit and relax. “I should go get the bucket-” 

Harley cut you off with a kiss, and headed out on his own before you could get another word out. By the time he'd returned from finishing up his last chore and putting away the tools for the evening, you'd maneuvered yourself to the couch and it gave him a chuckle when he saw you curled up on your side, a pillow between your knees. He reached out to squeeze your feet, pressing his thumb into the arch of your foot where it was the most sore, and despite your insistence that he'd done enough work today he pulled your legs into his lap and started working on those swollen ankles of yours. 

It was a ritual by now; he'd finish his work, you'd make some dinner for you both, and then he'd take care of you no matter how tired he was. He cared so much for your baby before she was even a living, breathing thing, and it was doubtless that she would end up being the most spoiled little girl alive when she finally arrived, because Harley was sweet on her even though she was still in the womb. He rubbed your belly to stroke her and kissed it to show he was thinking of her, and on rare occasions he even sang to her, and confided in you that he wanted her to know his voice so she always knew she–and you–were safe. And you could tell, even before he was a father, that he'd be just as good as a parent as he was a partner to you. 

“You hungry?” He asked, and you couldn't have nodded your head faster. Aside from cradling you and cuddling you and taking the literal weight off of you, he also had no criticisms about the way you ate–and that was a good a sign as any that he fed you good and fed you a lot. There were never any double takes when you took a second plate; in fact, he was usually the one offering it. “We've still got leftovers. I'll fry some bread with it.” 

Yet, as he moved to get up, you clung to him as you often did. Harley looked over at you and there was something different in his eyes, something that glowed a little brighter than you noticed before. Almost like he had reached some realization or thought that hadn't passed over him before, and in looking upon the woman he loved, he couldn't help but let a smile flicker at the strange, comforting sense of nostalgia. Your husband leaned over you for a kiss and the moment slipped away, but it would linger in the back of your mind for a long, long time to come, as you watched him head to the kitchen and hum a little tune while he warmed up your dinner. 

[doe-eyed-fool]

Prey | Chapter Nine

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Homophobia, Unwanted Flirting

You knock gently as you entered the room. "Hello?" You say with a smile. Alastor, sitting in his chair, turned to face you. "Y/n! What brings you by, darling?" He asks with a wide grin.

You walk further into the room before shutting the door behind you. "Thought I'd stop by for a visit." You tell him. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"You? Never." Alastor says with a wave of his hand. "It's always a delight to have you around." You take the basket you had resting in the bend of your arm, and set it down on a near by coffee table. "I brought you a little something. I hope you haven't eaten yet." 

"Oh, how thoughtful of you my dear. Thank you." Alastor stands from the chair. "No I haven't had the time to eat much yet. I've been quite busy." You nod. "I've noticed. How are you feeling?" You ask carefully. "I'm just fine, dearest!" Alastor says, maybe a bit too quickly. 

"Are you sure? You haven't quite been yourself as of late." You didn't want to upset him by saying this, especially knowing how highly he held his self image.

But you were so worried. If there was something wrong, you'd want to help make things better for him. Even if just a little. Alastor chuckles as he approaches you. He takes hold of your hands as he speaks. 

"My darling, if there was something wrong, I'd tell you. Rest assure, everything is alright." He says comfortingly. You wanted to believe him, but you just couldn't. You decided to drop it for now, but you will be keeping a closer eye on him. "If you say so." 

Alastor brings your right hand to his lips and kisses it softly. "I am quite fortunate to have someone as caring as you in my life, Y/n." Your smile returned to you, cheeks warming. "And I'm fortunate to have someone as loving as you in my life, Alastor." 

You then turn your attention to the small basket. "Now, I suggest you eat. I don't want you becoming all skin and bones. It's not as good as your cooking, but, hopefully it will tied you over for now." 

"You should give yourself more credit. It will do just fine, thank you again dear." Said Alastor. "Anytime." You grin. "Ok, I guess I'll leave you to it. I know you're about to start broadcasting, I don't want to distract you." 

"Oh please, do distract me." Alastor smirks. You lightly hit his chest. "Behave. You're at work." You giggle. "Will I see you at tonight's performance?" You ask. 

"Ah, afraid not." Alastor sighs. "I'm going to be doing a little extra work tonight. Hopefully I'll find some new inspiration for my broadcasts while I'm at it. I do apologize, my love. Next time, for certain." 

"Don't worry about it." You wave your hand dismissively. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, but please, try not to work yourself too hard ok?" 

"I will certainly try." Alastor promises. You stand on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you later, love." You say as you walk out of the door. Alastor watched as you left, and let his shoulder slump as the door shut. Another sigh left him, this one sounding more exhausted as he sat back down. 

"Y/n, you're getting a little too good at reading me..." He mutters. "Let's hope that does not become a reoccurring issue."

Tonight's show was as good as ever, you had captured the attention and adoration of the crowd once again. Now, you were in your dressing room, removing your makeup and changing back into your casual attire. Whenever you preformed, you gained a new sense of accomplishment and of course, confidence. 

It made you feel on top of the world, nothing could ruin your good mood. 

You stepped out of the lounge and breathed in the cool night air. It was soothing feeling, the light breeze on your skin. Those stage lights were no joke, you could use a nice shower once you got home. As you start off, someone calling your name caused you to pause.

You turn to see Joe and a few of his buddies walking your way. "Great show, Y/n! I had no idea you could sing! And sing so lovely at that." You smile slightly. "Oh, thank you." 

"See?" One of the men at his side slurred slightly. "I told ya, she sings just as good as she looks!" You tried not to pay him mind as his eyes wondered your body. 

"How about you join us for a few drinks, little lady? The night's still young. What do ya say?" Asked another. You shake your head and politely decline. "No thank you, I'm quite tired after tonight. I was just on my way back home. Maybe next time?" You say, though you had no intentions of doing so. 

Just as they were about to protest again and insist you go, Joe spoke up. "Ah, leave her be." He brushes off the two, and focused his attention on you. "Are you walking home all alone?" He asked.

You nod your head. "Then, allow me to take you home. I'd just hate to let a fine lady be all alone at night. It's not very safe, especially after that incident in the papers." 

Right, your boss went missing, and is suspected to be dead. As much as you wanted to decline, you really didn't feel safe walking alone right now.

So, you accept his offer. "Alright." You say and Joe offers his arm. You link your arm with his, but before you two left, Joe spoke to his buddies one last time. 

"Ya'll go on ahead without me. I'll join you fellas later." He says before walking away with you. You didn't miss the snickers and low whistling from his drunken friends. But again, you paid it no mind. 

"Thank you, Joe. Normally I wouldn't be too opposed to walking home late, but after recent events, I can't help be be a little paranoid." You sigh.

Joe chuckles. "It's no problem at all, little lady. I enjoy your company. Say, isn't Alastor always with you these days? Why ain't he walking you home?" He asked. 

"He's working late tonight." You tell him. "Otherwise he would have." 

"Working late?" Joe repeats. "Why, he left work same time I did." You look up at him, confused. "He did?" Joe nods. "Just a couple hours ago. Even left a little bit before me. I didn't see him come back, if he did." 

You furrow your brows as you look ahead once more. "He lied to me? Why would he do that?" You wonder aloud. Joe only shrugs. "Beats me. But that's quite rude if you ask me. You think he's got himself a lady friend he had to see?" 

'I most certainly hope not!' Is what you wanted to say, but instead, you shake your head. "I don't know. If he does, I don't know her." That couldn't be it. Alastor was a bit of a flirt, but that's long since stopped after the two of you got together. He's been nothing but loyal to you ever since. There was no way he had another woman in his life. 

So, what was it then? 

"Heh, nah. Nah I don't think that's it." Joe laughs. "Alastor's always been a bit of a prude. Never once have I ever seen him with a woman romantically. Women practically throw themselves at him, and he does nothing about it. I say he's one of those types."

You raise an eyebrow. "Those types?" 

"Yeah, you know. He fancies the opposite gender. A real daisy if you ask me. Ugh." Joe's face scrunches up in disgust. You tried not to let it show, but you felt a twisting feeling in your chest at his words. "What kind of man doesn't want a fine young dame on his arm?" 

You remained quiet, unsure that if you were to speak right now, you'd have nothing too kind to say to him. 

"What's more? What kind of man wouldn't want someone as breath taking as you." You glance at Joe, his eyes set on you. "Y/n, how about I take you out sometime? I'd treat you so much better than that palooka."

"You're very kind, I'm flattered, really." In all honesty, you weren't. In fact, you wanted nothing more than to just storm off from him and risk being murdered on your way home.

"But I'm afraid I must decline. I'm...I'm just not looking to be in a relationship right now." 

"So you're saying there's a chance in the future?" Joe smirks. You held back the urge to grimace. "I don't know." You say with a light chuckle. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Joe dropped the subject. And thankfully, you were almost home. 

"So, when did you start singing down at ol' Mimzy's lounge?" Asked Joe. "Not too long ago. Alastor helped me out a lot, being good friends with Mimzy." You could catch a glimpse of Joe rolling his eyes from the mentioning of Alastor's name. "I'm not sure if I would have this job without him."

"I'm sure you would." Said Joe with a grin. "You're pretty enough, you could get a job anywhere you wanted. Just flash a smile, and you'd be hired on the spot, little lady." 

Being pretty was nice, but you'd hope you have more to offer than just looks. But clearly Joe was not the type of man to have that discussion with. So, you refrained from mentioning it. Instead, you just thank him. 

Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. "Well. This is my stop. Thank you again for walking me home, Joe." You say with a smile. Joe waved his hand. "Don't mention it, darlin'. I'll see you around?" 

You nod your head before briskly walking inside, exhaling loudly as soon as you closed the door.

And to think, you were in such a good mood earlier...

As you made your way through your living room and into the hall, you couldn't help but think back to what Joe said. 

'he left work same time I did. Just a couple hours ago. Even left a little bit before me. I didn't see him come back, if he did. '

If Alastor wasn't working late, then what was he doing? Why did he feel the need to lie to you? You hope it wasn't anything serious, you hoped even more he had a good reason to be secretive. But that didn't make the worry and suspicion disappear. 

You've already dismissed the idea of him having another women on the side. He's done nothing to make you suspect as much, even before the two of you were together. 

Was he visiting his mother? He'd go to her grave every so often to chat with her about what was going on in his life. And to just...be with her. But it was so late. Why would he go at this time? That couldn't be it. 

Maybe he wanted to do some hunting? Hunting was a hobby of his, but also somewhat of a stress reliever. You never did like the idea of him hunting, you had such a soft spot for animals. But you weren't going to make him stop just because you disliked it. 

However you did make him promise not to tell you what he was hunting. Especially if it were deer. You always loved deer. They were such gentle creatures. 

But again, it was late. How would see anything at this hour? The night would make hunting difficult, so that couldn't have been it either. Right? 

What on Earth was he doing? 

You stopped just as you entered your bedroom, turning around, you walked back into the living room. You made your way over to your telephone and picked it up, as you circled through the numbers. 

You waited for Alastor to answer, however, the longer you waited, the less confident you became that he would answer. And he did not answer. 

Now you were worried. 

You sighed before setting the phone handle back into place and went back to your room. You showered and changed into your sleepwear. You sat down onto the edge of the bed and looked down at your slightly trembling hands. 

Where was he? What was he doing? Why did he lie to you? 

"He had better have good explanation for all this." You say before finally lying down, and tried giving into slumber. 

Tags-

@martinys-world

@sirens-and-moonflowers

@catticora

[yourlocalartsonist]

ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Nine

HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT I'M ALIVE AND I AM SO SORRY! It's been way too long and I'm genuinely sorry this chapter took several fucking months to make but IT'S FINALLY DONE! It ended up way longer than I intended man, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE SHORT. It's my longest chapter yet fun fact. I don't even regret it really, it benefited so much from the extra effort. Hopefully the next few chapters won't take this long but I will refrain from jinxing myself again so🧍‍♀️Anyway enough blabbering, hope y'all enjoy this one ;w;

CREDIT To the MFIP Team: Thank you to @yosajaeofficial, @urlocalmj, misfortun3_ismyname (on TikTok), @chaoticspeedrun, @ramblehour and @goldanrabbit for being my lovely editors! MAN did they give this chapter a lot of polish-

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves verbal abuse/manipulation, harassment, gaslighting, depressive thoughts, violence, blood, mentions of a wounded limb, brief mentions of nausea, displayed anxiety, and curse words. If you're sensitive to that, scroll past and stay safe!

I rushed around my room throwing shit on as fast as I could. Not fast enough apparently, since my phone’s vibrating like it’s gonna explode.

It’s late as hell right now, but Zane insisted on meeting up. Pretty randomly at, like, 11pm on a school night. I was initially planning to reject the idea or ghost with the excuse of sleeping, but it’s been a good while since I actually did hang out with him. I know insomnia’s gonna keep me up for a bit anyway, so why the hell not? We might even have fun! Just wish he’d stop flooding my notifs like I didn't already say I was actively getting ready.

I looked in the mirror, checking to see if I was presentable enough for the outside realm. My reflection’s the same as always; for better or worse. Still the same pink dress, same green skirt, same  boots. Can’t forget the gold earrings; the only emergency asset I held onto. I don’t know what I expected. I don’t have much to work with. Guess the gloves from Donnie are new, at least. But I’m still getting… bored? A change in appearance—even a small one—might be able to fill that hole for a while. Keep me distracted.

Maybe I could do something with my hair tonight? I still have Mi’s ribbon lying here somewhere.

I ignored Zane’s digital pestering and spent a few extra minutes shuffling through drawers and boxes, eventually finding her long, white ribbon—handmade from moth silk. She wore it all the time. I barely remember her hair being fully down unless she was sleeping or about to shower. Except for that one night, of course. The night she left and was never found again. She almost did take the ribbon with her. Had her hair done up in a bun and everything, even a little fancier than usual. But she took it off once she saw me behind her, barely reflected in the mirror. She crouched down, placed it in my tiny palms, and gave me her wonderfully warm smile. It’s the last thing she left me with. The last gift she could ever give me. 

After that, the ribbon’s survived years of storage and then more years of… unconventional bullshit use. I know moth silk ain’t the weakest thing on Earth but I’ve deadass used this ribbon as a make-shift pulley system to sneak stuff into my room through the window before, some of which weighed more than me! Its got the endurance of a Nokia at this point. 

I’ve barely used the ribbon for its intended purpose, though. I mean, how could I? I’m not my mom no matter how similar we look. Maybe this is a me-thing, but I always felt wearing the ribbon would be like replacing her with myself. 

Although, I’m sure Mi would’ve loved it if I wore it. 

Using the ribbon, I tied my hair into a ponytail and styled it as a loose bow, just to see how it would look. The white tails gently draped over my back down to my hips. I never quite realized how long the ribbon was before now. I don’t look as fancy or pretty as mom did, but it’s the best I’ve got. It… it doesn’t look bad, though, I think. It actually looks kinda nice! Maybe I’ll use it a bit more often. 

My phone’s repeated buzzing snapped me out from my trance. “Alright, alright, shut up already.” I groaned. Zane’s growing impatient.

You: hey sorry I jsut finished getting ready

You: heading out the door now! :3 

Fuck doors. Sneaking out became a whole lot easier ever since I did it from my window, but he doesn’t have to know that. I can already imagine him scolding me about the dangers of dropping down from high places, even with the fire escape there. He wouldn’t be wrong, per se, but at this point I’ve handled worse. Would probably send him into cardiac arrest if he knew what I’d actually been up to these few months.

I sprinted to the spot we agreed to meet up at. Zane was already there, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets like always. 

“Salena! Hey!” He lit up like a star when he saw me, beckoning me over.

God, for a sour person, he has such a sweet smile. He’s usually so good at being intimidating and frightening. Yet the second he brings out his smile, all that built-up fear washes away like it was never there to begin with. 

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Well, I figured I could use some fresh air.” I tilted my head to the side, eyeing his fit. “You left your sweater at home?”

“Hm?” He followed my gaze to his pitch black tank top in place of the usual outfit. “Oh, right! Yeah, the weather’s too hot for a sweater tonight. Forgot I changed it, really.”

Now that I’m looking closer, his choker’s missing too. It probably didn’t match with the top. Seems like it got swapped with a black watch on his left wrist that complimented the look way more. Doesn’t matter what he pretends to be though, I know Zane pays very close attention to his appearance. He’s gotta maintain the rep of our grade’s “Pretty Boy” after all. When it comes to him, every little detail matters.

Wait a sec…

“What happened to your arm?”

I couldn’t see ‘till he turned towards me but his left arm had a deep bluish-purple bruise spread across it. It looked like it was from something long like a pipe or a bat. Either way, it was gnarly enough to worry me. 

“Oh that. It’s nothing too bad.” He shrugged.

“You kiddin’ me? It looks awful! What happened?” I carefully grabbed his arm and took a closer look at the mark. I wish Leo was here, but thankfully I’ve picked up a little medic knowledge from him so I can at least tell if a bone is broken or not.

“Hey, don’t get your feathers all fluffed! I got a little hurt rough-housing with the guys, that’s all. You know how they are.”

“Rough-housing? Or a secret murder attempt?” I was only being half sarcastic. It wouldn’t be out of character for them.

“Don’t worry! It’s really sweet of you to care, but they’d never dare hurt me on purpose! Now, on another note…“ He paused for a moment, taking a proper look at me. For a little bit, I couldn’t tell why he smirked. “Looks like someone wanted to look cute tonight, ey? You wore your hair up.”

“Huh?” I touched my hair, forgetting I changed it earlier. “Oh, um, yeah! I-I did! I thought I’d give it a try. Does it… um, you know, look too bad or weird or?…”

“No! No, it… it looks really pretty.” Oh god, that’s a relief to hear! I was so paranoid it wouldn’t suit— “I gotta ask, though.”

I caught him inching closer. I tried creating space, but quickly realized I was up against the wall again. Should’ve been more careful about that. His hand reached out, bringing back all sorts of cringe-inducing memories. He didn’t technically pin me like last time, but he tucked my bangs back behind my ear. Feeling his fingers come into contact with my skin almost feels just as nauseating, though. 

“How’d you know I had a thing for girls in ponytails?”

And fuck, he made it weird again.

“Z-Zane?”

“Yeah?…” WHY ISN’T HE GETTING THE HINT!? “You know, you always look so soft when you dress up. You just bloom.”

“…So! What are we doing tonight?” 

His smile slightly dropped, likely upset I ruined whatever moment he was trying to have. Honestly, didn’t matter to me, as shitty as that sounds. I just wanted to change the topic so he’d step back a bit. We go through this every time; this stupid ass, awkward aura. I wish it would stop happening. 

On the bright side, he did step back and redirect his focus to answering my question. On the not so bright side, his answer was a pathetic shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“Y-you… What do you mean you don’t know? I snuck out here in the middle of the night, you told me it’d be something special! You’ve gotta have something planned.”

“Honest, I don’t! I thought it was beautiful outside and it reminded me of you. Wanted to see where such a lovely night could take us. I think that’s special enough, don’t you?”

“W-Well, I mean—“

He chuckled “What’s wrong? You’re not backing out now, are you?” 

I may have praised his smile earlier, but right now it’s making my eye twitch. I’m a little peeved knowing he brought me out here for shits and giggles when I could’ve at least been resting in bed, replenishing some of my energy. I know I don’t have the best sleeping habits, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get tired from the constant action going on! I don’t even know how long he’s gonna keep me hostage for! But… he’s also right that it’d be kinda shitty to bail now. Besides, I’m already out here so…

I guess all that’s left to do is suck it up and try to make the best of it. 

“Well, do you wanna… go for a walk or something?”

“Sounds perfect to me! Come on, hold my hand, Dove.”

For someone who supposedly didn’t have a plan, he sure took an awful lot of charge during that walk. He suggested we go to Central Park and practically dragged me there despite my common sense screaming to never go to that hellspawn at night. Although, I can’t complain too much. The park’s definitely the best place to see the stars, and tonight had clear skies! He made sure to keep a tight grip on me in case we ran into any classic New York weirdos anyway, so I should probably be less tense. I guess I got used to the guaranteed safety of having literal ninjas around me, I forgot what it was like hanging out with a regular person. 

On top of that, Zane seemed really happy! Happier than I’ve seen him in a while, actually. He was giddily pointing out any interesting greenery we saw and rambling random facts he knew about them. 

Even later, when we went and dined inside a relatively fancy restaurant, all he could focus on was the different plants they chose as decor. He’s such a huge nature geek, but he’d never let anyone know. Zane’s the type of guy to get 100% on a biology test and shamefully shove it in his backpack to avoid being labeled as a nerd. Being a nerd myself, I think it’s pretty cool, so I never understood it. But either way, I’m glad he feels safe around me. I’m glad he doesn’t hide around me.

I forgot about this side of him, I really did. The side that is my friend.

We were walking back to my place, taking in the bliss of the quiet night. Even if a part of me prefers the busier, noisy parts of the city, it’s really soothing to experience the calmer sides of it too. Everything about tonight feels nearly perfect. I’m surprised nothing ruined it. I’m debating if I could ruin it…

I really want to talk to him. I wanna bring up those photos, get some answers, put my strange emotions to rest once and for all. I wanna hear it from him that neither of them meant to hurt me. That this was just my mind screwing me over again. I need to know. I really need to know. 

You know, friends are supposed to lend a shoulder when you need it.

I don’t want to ruin the night. But friendship takes risks sometimes. That’s what shows its strength, right?

I take a deep breath and go for the leap of faith.

“So, I was wondering—” “Salena, I wanted to ask—” 

I really gotta work on my timing for these things.

“S-Sorry! You go first.”

He shook his head with a delicate smile. “Nah, it’s okay. You can go.”

“Are you sure? I-I mean it’s kinda complicated…”

“Yeah, I’m sure! I always love hearing you talk, anyway.” 

“O-okay then, well…” My hands balled up into determined fists and I looked him right in the eyes. I have to put an end to this or I’ll never be able to move on. “I’ll be real, it might be a weird question.But you’re my friend and I really trust you a lot. I… I have to know this, so please don’t get mad.”

“Yeah…?” Why did he have to lean in closer…

I came this far, I’m not letting my tongue shut me up again. 

“What’s going on with you and Jaiden?”

Immediately his demeanor changed. His posture slouched, the disappointment clear as day on his face. “Jaiden? You’re—you’re really thinking about… about them, now?” 

“Yes, b-but I want to stop! That’s why I need to ask you this, so please bear with me, Zane.”

He leaned back with a hand on his hip, the other covering his face as he exhaled. “And here I was getting my hopes up for nothing.”

He would never think that I heard him; Zane’s a good whisperer. Unfortunately, my hearing rivals it.

He looked at me again; his eyes didn’t feel the same. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

I felt my stomach twist into itself. My chest began to ache. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was about to hurl.

It’s okay. Friends get a little upset at each other all the time. Doesn’t mean they’ll break apart. Don’t be a coward, Salena. 

I told him about everything. The canceled plans, Jaiden’s distant behavior, the increase in their pics together on his Instagram. I vented about how frustrated I felt with seeing them spend so much time together and then completely ignore me. And then vented some more about how frustrated I felt from that frustration, how I knew it was wrong yet couldn’t help it seeping into my everyday life! I let out a lot of steam tonight, even things I didn’t plan on telling him. The only things I left out, honestly, were anything related to the turtles to hide their identity. And to avoid any irrelevant questions.

He seemed strangely chipper hearing all of this, a curiously amused smirk plastered on his face. Not the reaction I expected, but I guess it’s better than him flipping out like I thought he would. 

“So, if I’m getting this right, you see me and Jaiden hanging out more often and it actually bothers you?”

“I don’t want it to but yeah, it bothers me a whole fucking lot. It’s taken over my life and I hate it! I hate being jealous! It’s so—“ 

“You’re jealous!? You’re jealous! Oh man, I can’t believe I am living in the same timeline where the Salena Moni is experiencing jealousy like every. Average. Lowlife. Person!” 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and rub it in, why dontcha? That helps me so much.” I pouted.

He laughed, enjoying my misery. “I know, I’m sorry. Just, damn! Somewhere, pigs are flying aren’t they?” If Meat Sweats could fly, I’d be his murderous Cupid.

“Har har. I get it though. I mean, you know me! I’ve felt envious before, but jealous? How does anyone even deal with this…?” I held myself a little tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Dove. It happens! Everyone gets a little jealous. It’s a normal thing to go through, Salena.”

“Yeah, I sure did want a normal life, so I guess I got what I wished for.” I can’t help feeling salty over all this. 

He only laughed and patted my hair, fluffing up the ponytail a little. 

“Hey, Zane? For the sake of my psyche, you sure I’m not a bad person for this?”

A tender sigh rang through my ears. “I’m sure. You could never be a bad person, Salena.” 

…I never realized a husky voice like his could feel so honeyed.

But he’s right. I’m not a bad person, I’m just human. If both him and Raph said the same thing, it’s more likely to be true.

“And for the record, Jaiden and I are just friends right now. There’s nothing going on between us, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Uh… Cool? I… might be a little lost here. Why are you telling me that?”

“Reassurance, obviously.”

I blinked, not really getting it or knowing how to respond. He thought for a moment, then had a face of realization while he giggled.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re actually that innocent! You’re so cute, I swear!” He booped my nose and leaned in again with a huge smile. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “You’re jealous because you have a crush.” 

A crush?

“But why would I have a crush on Jaiden?” 

“I’m just saying—Wait, rewind. A crush on Jaiden?” He physically paused for a bit before awkwardly laughing. “No, sweetie, you don’t get jealous of your crush, you get jealous of the people they’re with!”

“That’s why I’m asking. Why would I have a crush on Jaiden?”

…Why does the air feel colder all of a sudden? 

The night was warm just a minute ago, but now it’s dead like the core of winter. His smile is long gone. His eyes, they’re slicing me in half. Is my breathing a little faster? He’s coming closer. I’m suddenly aware of just how alone we really are here in this silent little street. 

“To be clear. Who are you jealous of.”

My throat clogged up. I blinked and lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears being fought back. I forgot this side of him, too. The side that made my heart close in on itself.

“Salena, don’t make me ask twice.”

“Of you.” I managed to let out. “J-jealous of you.”

He wouldn’t speak for a while. Only felt him staring me down like a predator stalking its prey, making me swallow to keep my throat from drying up. My hands felt so clammy, begging me to wipe them on my skirt. But I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t even look at him right now.

“Of fucking course you are.”

I knew it was coming, but I still flinched when he cursed with no shame, tugging his hair and punching the wall next to me. It’s stupid, isn’t it? I can handle giant mutants and a literal cult of evil, but Zane’s temper was not something to be messed with, and my unlucky ass did exactly that.

“Why did I ever expect anything different! Of course it’s me you’re jealous of! Why the fuck would you phrase it like that if you meant something else, god dammit!”

You’re gonna bleed if you keep doing that…

“Z-Zane, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think it’d come off as me being jealous of Jaiden—“

“OBVIOUSLY, IT FUCKING WOULD!!!” He grabbed my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. I don’t know if it’d be an exaggeration to say I nearly got a panic attack from the action alone. 

“When you say things like how you’re jealous of how much time Jaiden and I spend together, of course I think you’re jealous of them, not me! Why would I ever assume it was me! That never happens with anyone else! God, you’re such a fucking moron sometimes, I swear!” 

“I'm sorry… P-please stop…”

“After everything we’ve fucking been through, everything I did for you! All you can ever do is somehow relate me back to Jaiden! There’s always someone else! I mean nothing to you, Salena! Don’t I!? I! Mean! Nothing!”

“I-I didn’t mean to, I promise—”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER, IDIOT!”

He let go and pushed me back. Sometimes I overlook how much bigger Zane is compared to me. This is not one of those times. 

“You know what? You know what’s funny, Salena? That night you’re so fucking fixated on, the one that’s consumed your ability to even think like a normal person? Yeah, I’ve got some news about that night.” 

I just want to disappear…

“I asked Jaiden to go with me to that shitty party on purpose!”

…

What?

“I asked them on purpose, I posted those pictures on purpose! I did everything ‘cause I knew you’d see it! I thought maybe then, for once, you’d finally, finally feel a single ounce of longing for me! That was all I wanted!”

What.

“…You better be lying, Zane.”

“I’m not. And you deserve this.”

I glared at him the entire time while he was too focused on his own bullshit words to even notice. My arms burned with the sensation of my nails digging deeper and deeper. I hope they'll draw blood.

“You don’t understand, Salena! You keep saying all these… all these stupid fucking things that no one else says to me! Do you know what it does to me? If I had my way, I’d hold you forever and never let you go. No one’s shown me kindness like you.”  I was so numb I couldn’t even react to him caressing my cheek. Only kept glaring. 

“But then you barely ever give me the time of day! You’re barely ever with me! Fuck, honestly, you’re never with me anymore! I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not like you to say one thing and do another! You’re not that type of two-faced asshole! So why are you fucking acting like one!? Ever since that day you went to ‘hang out’ with that stupid drugged-out bitch you called a friend, you’ve never been the fucking same! With the way you act, I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if you got addicted and stay on the high 24/7!”

He’s… Is he talking about Mikey? That’s what this is about? Is he fucking serious right now.

“Who are you!? Where is my Salena?” 

“Did you know Jaiden and I had plans that day?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not stupid, I wasn’t gonna go that far. I wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen, that’s it! Obviously, it was dumb to think it would work!” The dumb bitch sighed, exasperated. As if he had any right to be. “Seems you don’t have room for me in that big heart of yours after all, huh? Maybe I’m a dick for saying this, but it’s honestly karma that I happened to choose the one day you two were gonna hang out. That’s gotta be a sign, Salena.”

You never get the fucking hint, do you Zane Evans?

“I need to go.”

I couldn’t even get two steps in before he gripped my wrist to stop me.

“Wait, what do you mean go? Go where?”

“I meant exactly what I said! I’ve had enough. Now let go of me.”

I yanked my arm back and stormed off, Zane following close behind. At least, judging from the sound he was. I didn’t bother looking back. 

“Hey! Your place is in the opposite direction!”

“Stop following me, I can go wherever I want!”

“Salena, seriously!? It’s already late, you’re gonna get lost! Come on, are you really that pissed off—”

“YES!!!”

I turned my heel and faced him.

“How are you even unsure of that!? You got upset I hung out with someone else for one day—a person I made plans with in advance, might I add—and you decided to take revenge on me!? Do you have any clue how fucked up that is!?”

“I got a little mad! So what? You’ve known me for two years! Stop overreacting about a harmless dig!”

“Harmless!? You have no idea what I’ve gone through this past month because of your little ‘harmless’ stunt! I’ve suffered so much because of you! I can’t even sleep because of you! God, sometimes you’re so—Ugh!”

I began counting down from ten to one, just like Raph taught. I shouldn’t say something I’ll regret later. Honestly, I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

He looked like a sad puppy. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting this. But somehow, my sympathy won’t halt my anger tonight.

“Salena, I… Look, I didn’t know you’d be so sensitive over this—“

“Zane, I really need to leave. I’m sorry I exploded like that, but it’s gonna happen again if I stay here any longer. So please, just stop following me. Hurting you would add more shit to my plate and I really don’t need that right now, okay?” 

“N-no! Stay! I can make it up to you!”

“Another day, any day, but not now! Not now.”

I walked away and this time he didn’t follow. 

“…Fine.”

I heard his footsteps stomp in the other direction, slowly fading away.

My own legs went faster till the wind consumed me. 

The anger returned almost instantly after I knew he left. I’m happy I kept my cool during the end back there but holy fucking shit! What was he thinking!? I wanted answers tonight but I didn’t expect this! I thought I was overthinking again! I thought my brain made up the possibility that they ditched me intentionally! But no, turns out it wasn’t just Jaiden but Zane, too! What the fuck did I do to them? What did he mean I “deserved it”!? 

I don’t get it, what is he expecting me to do? I know he… feels a certain way about me. But even then! I can’t just shit romantic feelings for him out my ass! 

Ugh, so fucking stupid. I’m gonna lose my head if I keep thinking about this.

I wandered around the city some more and got back to the main road where a good handful of cars were passing again. It’s past 1am now and I’ve gotta get ready for school in less than five hours. But I know damn well I won’t sleep, not after this. I don’t wanna go home. Take me anywhere but home. I don’t feel like facing any of this right now, I…

I want somewhere I can feel safe for a while, just so the day won’t end on such a horrible note.

I pulled out my phone and opened the contacts. I wish I was one of those folks who didn’t have to think of someone before they dialed but alas, here I am. 

I can’t talk to Jaiden. 

I obviously can’t talk to Zane.

I don’t know if I can tell Casey any of this yet.

I’d love to talk to April but she’s probably asleep by now. But… but the guys might not be! They’re usually up at these sort of freakish hours of the night. I could try giving the group chat a call and hope for the best. I feel bad for bothering them so often but who else do I have right now?

It took three rings before the line went through.

“You are conversing with Donatell—Why is your screen so dark?” 

Oh fucking lovely.

“H-hey, Donnie. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a video call.”

As my luck would have it, Donnie was the one to pick up. No offense to him; he never did anything wrong. I’m just not entirely sure how he feels about me yet. So, having him answer when I’m already high on nerves isn’t what I pictured hoping for the best would result in. But he’s much, much better than being alone right now.

“Uh, what… Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, simply being my usual genius self to aid with our nightly hero duties! Sure, no regular teenager could detect a break-in on sensitive confidential info before the actual government could, but I, Othello Von Ryan, have proven to be no regular teen!” 

“Yep, definitely the usual for you.” 

Donnie’s def no less than Leo when it comes to being allergic to humility. Though, they both earned their egos. Donnie’s not wrong; not just any person could be nearly as smart as him.

“So, did you need anything fixed? You’re calling at a rather unusual hour for a school night.” 

“Oh, no, not really. I mean, I was kinda out with a friend, but things… ended abruptly. I don’t really feel like sleeping right now. I wanted some company?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but got interrupted by a familiar accent asking who was on the phone. The instant my name left his voice, three others repeated it with joy. My screen suddenly overflowed with four green goofballs all trying to fit in the camera’s scope at once.

“SALENA! How are you? How come you’re not asleep? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Mikey, it’s Salena, it’s way too early for them to sleep.”

“Wow, Leo, anyone ever tell you how funny you are?” My words didn’t match my tone. I wonder why.

“Leo, let ‘er breathe!” The camera shook as a red bandana came into frame. “Hey, but for real. Why you up so late, Salena? Somethin’ up?”

“Nah, just couldn’t sleep! I thought I’d call you guys for a bit, but from the sounds of it, y’all seem kinda busy.” 

The camera moved again as the device got transferred to the next turtle. “Give me my—Ugh, there we go. And yes, you’re correct. We are actually busy with a mission tonight.” 

I tried keeping my smile intact as I understandingly nodded my head. Is he mad at me for assuming they were free the exact moment I needed them to be? I mean, I’d be mad at me, so it’d make sense.

“Hey, but you know what?” Leo leaned next to Donnie, trying to see the screen. “You should totally join us! Tag along, have some fun, we’d all love that!”

You would?

“What? Nardo, what are you—“

“OMIGOSH, YEAH!” Mikey jumped in, knocking Donnie out of frame entirely. “If you’re not gonna sleep, we should totally hang out! I really miss you, Salena!” 

“Uh, am I really the only one thinking it would be a bad idea to let the person who barely leaves their house join us on a mission to a highly-secured and regulated government facility?”

“Chillax, Don, she’ll be fine! You’ll be fine, right Salena?”

“I mean, uh—” 

“See? What’d I tell ya, totally fine!” 

“Raph agrees! Salena can handle herself.” 

“Oh sure, I’m absolutely positive nothing could go wrong! He said without a trace of doubt.”

…I can’t tell if he’s trying to protect me or just doesn’t want me there. Neither option feels good right now, to be honest.

“C’mon, Dee, we’ve all seen her fight before! Including you, remember? When they helped us stop Meat Sweats?”

 Mikey’s got a point. That was before I had any real battle experience, too! I don’t know why Donnie seems so hesitant about this. Or why it’s making me so pissy, actually.

Another car passed by and I lowered the volume a bit, remembering the time. Now that I’m actually near some apartments, I don’t wanna accidentally wake someone up. I really gotta save up for some new earbuds; my last ones broke like, a month ago and I can only make do for so long.

“Three to one, hermano. You’re outnumbered.”

“But—Sigh, forget it! Salena, I—“

“‘NOUGH SMALL TALK!” At this point, they’re just playing hot potato with Donnie’s phone. “Salena, hurry up! We’re boutta start the mission so don’t want ya missin’ out!”

“Ha! Almost made a pun!”

“Shut up, Leo. Anyways, we’re at uh… Uh… Hey, Donnie, where we at?” 

I could hear him struggling for his phone in the distance. “You could just send our coordinates!”

“I could send her our coordinates! …How does Raph do that, again?”

The audio muffled as the phone shuffled back to its rightful owner. “God, I’m so gonna install security on this thing. Anyway, I’m sending our location to you right now. And as I was GOING TO SAY BEFORE! Salena, I look forward to seeing you again.”

He flashed a smile and part of my worries vanished. I’m still not sure how to read him but if he’s being nice, it can’t be all bad, right?

“OH, AND IF YA CAN, COULD YOU BRING ME A SNACK—“ Donnie hung up before the teddy bear could finish.

Luckily for him, his face beamed when I finally arrived around twenty minutes later and did, in fact, bring him a snack. 

“Hey guys! Hope I didn’t take—“

I couldn’t even finish speaking before finding myself laughing on the floor with four giant turtles hounding me in hugs. 

“It has been way too long since we’ve hugged!” Poor Mikey, I haven’t been able to see him in a hot minute. “Nice ponytail, by the way. Really makes your eyes pop.”

“Aww, thanks! I missed you guys too. Ugh, I really wish scheduling was easier! I’d hang out more often.” 

“Dude, why waste time on schedules when you could just come over?”

“‘Xactly! Ain’t like you’re not welcome!”

“Oh. I-I mean, sure! If you guys really don’t have a problem with it…” I wonder if this is what it’s like to feel wanted.

“I just wanted you to get a taste of what it felt to not be chosen!”

…T-then again, they’re probably just being polite.

Click!

“And fits perfectly, just as the estimations foretold!” The fuck? 

I looked down and saw a shiny black belt matching the arm wraps now resting above my hips. It’s actually fairly loose around my waist but I’m guessing that was the intention. There’s a giant pink button on the left with the same M-shaped logo as all of theirs. It looked super cool, honestly! Even seemed to match with my outfit!

“Woaaah, what is this thing?”

“Donnie. Really?” Leo didn’t sound impressed and neither did the others but, like, who cares! The belt’s dope as hell!

He ignored them and continued addressing me. “It basically functions both as your very own panic button and is a carrier for your sickles thanks to a highly specific magnetic attraction! Plus, it obviously helps tie in your outfit better ‘cause Great Galileo did you need some accessories.”

“Damn, I didn’t know my sickles were magnetic!”

“Oh, they weren’t before, I installed magnets in them last night.” With that, he pulled my fucking weapons seemingly out of his ass. Judging by everyone else’s groans though, I’m the only one who’s surprised and confused.

“Donald! What did we say about breaking into strangers’ homes!” 

“Hey, I didn’t break in!… to a stranger’s home! I broke into Salena’s, Salena is not a stranger—OW, HEY!” Raph slapped the back of his head. One quick yet dramatic recovery later, we all began our route of sneaking into the building. 

Security wasn’t monitoring the higher floors, so we only had to ninja our way up ‘till there and the rest was easy peasy. I tried focusing on the quick briefing I was receiving on the way up but my mind was admittedly elsewhere. Back to the weird situation I thought I dreamt up last night.

I don’t remember much. I was too tired to really register anything, and Donnie being a ninja probably enhanced that. But I do remember still hearing faint footsteps in my room; drawers being opened, the closet getting browsed. I was so out of it I figured I probably hallucinated everything. Either way, I was way too paralyzed to do anything; I couldn’t even put my phone back earlier. Kept passing in and out of consciousness. But it seemed like someone put it back for me. They helped my sloppy body into a position that wouldn’t leave me aching the next morning and pulled the covers up to tuck me in. What really sealed the whole dream theory to me was the metallic-textured “hand” that patted my head before they left and let the world return to tranquility.

I seriously did figure it was all a weird fever dream or some shit. Personally, I still feel like that’s more believable than it being Donnie all along. But staring down at my sickles, I guess I can’t really argue against the proof right in front of me. 

“Gentlemen, here we are! The Techno Cosmic Research Institute! Otherwise known as”—the door opened as I returned back to present time—“The TCRI.”

The moon illuminated the flat, revealing that we were in a main lobby of some sorts. Huge and spacious, decorated with different plants I’m sure Zane would’ve gone crazy over. 

…I shouldn’t think about him right now.

It was a huge and spacious lobby full of plants. The windows that were tinted from the outside now presented a full view of the city skyline. Doors were carved into the walls, transitioning to the other rooms. Some, like the several meeting rooms, were made with glass so I could vaguely make out the interior from here. Others were blocked by heavy, solid, metal doors, holding whatever secrets the government had behind them.

I felt strange setting foot in this place, like I wasn’t supposed to be here. Well, I guess we are breaking and entering, but it’s not that. It’s something else, something I can’t quite explain. Unrelated to the guys but personal to me. I feel I’m not wanted for a reason I’m not yet aware of. It’s freaking me out a little. 

“So, what do the Purple Dragons want with this place again?”

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. I only caught a break-in to the system in general and tracked it back to Kendra, I don’t have info on what they’re trying to gain access to. Whatever it is, though, it has an impressively tight security system that’s nearly impossible to break! At least, not through their simple B-tier remote hacking.”

“If the Purple Dragons want it, then it’s gotta be something major.” I’ve known about them for a while thanks to April. 

It kinda shocked me at first, not because a group of teens created a tech-smart gang but because April O’Neil was a loser to someone. Call me a little biased—and you’d be right—but I still think Kendra’s got rocks for brains if she ignores someone like April. 

But that’s a mental essay for another day. Right now, Leo’s smirking. And if Leo’s smirking, things will either go amazingly well or horrifically wrong. 

“So… If we’re already here, why don’t we just figure out what they want ourselves?”

Mikey propped his chin up on Leo’s shoulder. “You mean like, go and explore? Sounds rad to me!”

“Yeah! Sneak around, let Donnie do his nerdy smart people stuff and see what’s so great about this place, yeah?” 

“Invade the privacy of our nation’s government and scavenge for confidential data!? Nardo, I love you!”

“Raph? Your call, buddy.”

He was shockingly quick to shrug. “Sure! Raph don’t see a problem with it. Sounds hella fun to me!”

“Uh, guys?” I raised my hand. “Isn’t this, like, highly illegal?” 

“And?” They all said in unison. To be fair, legal doesn’t sound like them anyway. 

“What are they gonna do? Arrest us?” His hand circled in front of his blue bandana.

“And don’t worry, you won’t get in trouble for anything that happens! Donnie can get rid of the evidence and no one will know you were here, right Dee?” Mikey shot a wink at Donnie.

“Affirmative!” 

Dang, Mikey’s made a lot of good points tonight. 

“Eh, you’re right. To hell with laws!” Passing up an opportunity to explore a space institution would be laughably unlike me, anyway! 

We decided to split up and meet back at the main lobby in fifteen, assuming the Purple Dragons hadn't arrived by then. It’s kind of scary wandering on my own in this place. It still feels off to me, but at the same time, I’ve always wanted so desperately to walk through a facility like this. Fascinating space research, meeting after meeting to discuss whatever new breakthrough was made, access to a shit ton of databases and technologies I’ll never have the chance to use at home!? Everything about this place is perfect! It’s all I dreamed it to be. 

So why won’t that damn feeling go away?

Whatever, it’s probably just tonight in general. I really, really, need to get over it and move on already or else I’m guaranteed to fuck up the whole mission.

I sighed and glanced down at my arm wraps, raising them to get a better look. Despite my flip-floppy mood, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s dorky but they do comfort me every now and then. They felt nice to wear and even looking at them made me all fuzzy and nostalgic. They feel like an older me even though I got them recently. 

“I take it you liked them, then.” 

His voice startled me, I thought everyone went their own ways but I guess Donnie was nearby. 

“Yeah, I do! The belt, too, they’re really cool gifts! Thank you.” He lit up when he heard those magic words. Man, I can’t believe I forgot to thank him sooner. Poor guy was probably aching for some feedback.

“I-I actually always wondered how you made them. They feel really sturdy but like, it’s not heavy to wear, either, if that makes sense.”

“Oh yeah, totally!” He typed on the screen on his arm, booting up the scanning feature to make sure we didn’t miss anything. “It’s an intentional design choice. They are supposed to act as armor, so.”

“Woah, cool! Do they count as tactical gear? As in military grade and all that jazz?”

“What? No, that’s not even good quality, that’s just a buzzword. Military grade simply means they met the minimum stated requirements at the lowest unit price.”

“…”

“…Low budget, few money, lead to mid product, good enough for gullible minds and general public consumption.” 

Ohhhh. “So they lied.”

“As per usual. It’s shit engineering in actuality.”

I pushed open one of the meeting rooms’ glass doors as Donnie’s shell held up a bright torch. We began scouting the area for anything interesting while continuing our talk. All this investigative work’s reminding me of April and the way she’d gush about doing the same. Completely understanding the appeal now; it feels so thrilling snooping around somewhere you’re not supposed to be! Especially when the law’s involved.

The room wasn’t anything unordinary. It looked like any other corporate meeting room. The long table leading to the small TV on the wall, decorative paintings and plants, the usual. Man, we probably should’ve gone into a more interesting—“OW!”

“…Watch your step.” He said after I already fell to my knees.

“Thanks for the very useful warning. What even was that?”

He shined the light closer to a… metal? No, definitely not entirely metal. A robot arm sloppily plopped on the floor. We couldn’t see what the arm was attached to, if it was attached to anything at all. It’s too long to trace back with the torch light from where we are. One thing’s for sure, though: It’s giant. The claw I tripped over is practically the same size as my head. 

“Hmm…” He crouched closer to the arm, slowly inspecting it. “Weird. It looks like it’s made of some cheap plastic. Perhaps a prototype of some sorts.”

“I don’t think they’d make it this big if it was a prototype.” Maybe we could do a test to see what type of plastic it is. “You got any fire?”

“While I see your angle and would love to carry through that experiment, it’s probably not wise to burn something we don’t know the purpose of. Or, you know, alert the security of our presence from the alarms.”

“Yeah, fair…” Man, would’ve been hella fun, though. 

We both stayed on the floor, a little stumped on what the hell this thing was. My eyes got bored after a while and wandered around the room again. The only interesting thing in here was this weird ass plastic arm, it’s pretty much useless looking around the room but it did keep me entertained. There were five plants in this room which explains the fresh smell, all of them were basic enough for me to recognize. Two zebra plants, a ponytail palm, and…

I ignored the plant on the table when I spotted something thin underneath it, hidden by the shadows. I think it’s a slip of paper?

Donnie’s sigh brought my attention back. “You know what, I’m gonna go to their computer lab to see if one of their databases has anything about this thing.”

“Aight, I’ll stay back and keep exploring. Good luck!”

Right as he left, I sped over to the mysterious paper, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. The table was tall enough for me to comfortably sit under, leaning over the paper on the floor to read it. It’s, coincidentally enough, about that puzzling arm. The incomplete text made it clear it was probably part of a stack of paper or a file and fell out. Sadly, it didn’t reveal much but what I could get out of it was that it’s an automated arm controlled by an AI system, mostly covered with polypropylene plastic. Heh, PP plastic. Oh, it was created for the purpose of security. Well that’s just fantastic. I should go warn the boys about it.

I quickly snapped a pic of the loose sheet, almost getting out from under the table.

…But I’m glad as hell I didn’t.

I heard it. A soft, mechanical hum as something slithered off the ground. I grabbed my sickles from their belt, trying to minimize my shaking. It took a few blinks and tries but I managed to turn invisible, watching the machine move through the darkness. How was it suddenly on?

Its movements were smooth and natural. Too natural for something meant to be robotic. It’s so eerily graceful, slithering through the air. The arm swiveled its claw around like an animal head checking its surroundings. It… It’s looking where I am. It’s looking at me. It shouldn’t be able to see me, I’m not supposed to be visible! But it won’t stop staring.

”FUCK!” I shrieked when it lunged at me, quickly slicing it before it could grab me. Thank god it’s just plastic… Why the fuck is it hollow? 

That doesn’t make any sense! Shouldn’t there be wiring or something? Even if not to connect the AI, how the hell can it move like that without anything to mimic muscle!? 

I gasped, turning my head to the side. I can hear something else. It’s gooey and mushy and… 

It’s looping around the room.

It’s getting louder.

”W-what the hell?”

…I think I can see it now. Something solid but stretchy, resembling thick vines climbing up the plastic arm. I backed up, watching as it crawled over to the newly severed claw. It pulled the claw back to its other half and tightened around them. It glowed? A sickeningly blinding green color. Before I realized what was going on, the claw suddenly reattached as the vines slinked back into the darkness. 

It saw me again and the chase resumed. 

It’s so damn fast, I can barely outrun it! Dodging is saving my ass but it keeps knocking over any furniture I used against it! 

I jumped when I heard Donnie from the comms. Wait, he installed comms on my arm wraps? Damn, I'm so frazzled, I forgot about those.

“What’s making all that racket? Everything okay over there?”

”You can hear that!?”

”Yeah, I’m literally right next door?”

”Well—SHIT!” Too fucking close, too fucking close! It almost fucking grabbed me! Fuck, my knees hurt from that! “SON OF A—Don’t worry, I can handle it! I’ll explain soon!”

I tried getting off the floor as quickly as possible but the claw pulled me back down. The four sharp grippers opened up like a mouth and a fucking chainsaw came out. It went straight for my head, life flashing before my eyes as my sickles blocked it by pure reflex, holding it back. It won’t back off! I can’t keep pushing forever! How the hell do I get out of this!?

“FIBONACCI!” 

A spinning titanium blur whacked the arm back, grabbing its attention to the maniacally smiling turtle now dashing through the room. His arm reached out, grabbing his staff from mid-air, and chopped off the robot arm with a giant drill. I curled in on myself right before a bright, violet shield spread over me and kept the arm’s falling metal parts from landing on me.

“You know, that did not seem like ‘handling it’.” 

My vision cleared to his hand offering to help me up. I’m suddenly getting deja vu from the other countless times my helpless damsel-wannabe ass needed a rescue. Panicked and guilt-ridden, I waved it off and got up on my own. 

“We gotta get outta here right now!”

“What? Why? I already—”

The vines returned and began repeating their process of fixing the arm. Though this time, it seems to be going faster.

“Oh my banana pancakes! What is that!?”

“I don’t know but that’s why we’re leaving! Come on!”

I grabbed his hand and we ran out the room, running into the others in the main lobby.

”Leo! There’s—”

“Crazy killer robot arms, we know. Was just in the middle of talking about that, actually.” He gave a glance of disapproval to the pouting red giant next to Mikey. Who also looks hella annoyed. It would appear we’ve walked in on a teensy squabble. 

I heard Donnie sigh beside me “Raph, please tell me you didn’t.” He left my clueless ass standing there to join in on their talk.

Wait—Oh god, not again!

Turning around, I grabbed my sickles. I heard it again. Managed to dodge just in time for its jab to my right. It seems the guys are too busy to notice and I really don’t wanna burden them again. I’ll solo this one!

“When I said we should go explore, I didn’t mean go ‘round pushing things! We’re in a government building, why would you touch anything!?”

I heard another hit coming and blocked it with the blade. 

Yeah, I-I can totally take this! I should let them finish their conversation—Holy fuck, there’s more than one, fucking end my suffering already. 

”I didn’t mean to! You guys know I got a weak spot, what was I supposed to do? If they didn’t want Raph to push the big, red button, maybe they shouldn’t make it big ‘n red!” 

“Buddy, that’s not how that works and you know that.”

There’s three of them now and they’re so unreasonably fast! It’s so hard to keep up! Ugh, it almost feels like I am being punished after all. 

My accidental yelp luckily got drowned by Mikey’s groan. “Man, just let it go! We can smell your ‘I know I fucked up but don’t wanna admit it ‘cause I’m the big brother’ stench!”

”THAT’S A DIFFERENT STENCH!”

”AHH!” 

I really didn’t mean to blurt that out but the claw dug into my leg and yanked me off the ground! Guilt aside, it’s probably a good thing I caught their attention, especially since I dropped my sickles like a fucking moron!

“SALENA!” His sword slashed through the air but got promptly blocked and thrown back by another metal claw. A scary amount of them are showing up now! The guys are completely surrounded and I’m stuck useless, dangling in the air!

One of the arms came closer and opened its grippers, a scanner popping out this time, its red beam blinding my eyes. My breathing grew shallow, the commotion from below fading away. I’m getting lightheaded from being suspended upside down. I need to get out of this situation. But there’s nothing I can do. Just squint past the light and anxiously wait for its next move. 

My ears burned from the claw’s monstrous shriek. It sounds like a fucking animalistic version of nails on a chalkboard! Why did it react to me like this? Why me? Aren’t we all intruders? Why is it just me!?

“You deserve this.”

Was he right?

I didn’t process getting swung in the air until I was let go with enough momentum to cause a crash through the decor. My arms shook as I tried lifting my body up. Everything hurts, everything fucking hurts! My ears, my arms, my legs! My head! I just wanted a little distraction tonight! Why is this happening?

Is this really my karma?

…Wait a sec.

When I managed to lift my head, I came face to face with a crack in the wall where the robot arms were emerging from. The vines I saw earlier turned out to be permanently merged with the arms at the roots and lead to… something behind the wall. The crack was too small to properly make much out but it looked like it was breathing?

Whatever, I don’t have time to be surprised. “Guys! The arms! They’re coming from over here!” 

The crack’s small but just big enough for something slim! Like—

The claw dug into my leg once again and began dragging me away. “Leo! Donnie! One of your weapons can fit through!” 

“Got it!”

“I’ll cover!”

Flashes of blue scattered around the lobby. Each portal and throw of his sword brought Leo closer and closer to the wall. I couldn’t watch for too long, though, as I found myself back in the air again. It froze my skin getting thrown across the room faster than before. This time, towards the glass windows. 

Chains grabbed at my ankle and yanked me back to the ground away from my disastrous fate. I looked up to see the tangerine flashing a confident yet relieved smile at me. “Hey!”

“…Hey!” 

Mystic metal clinked as Mikey pulled back some of the robot arms chasing after Leo to buy him more time. Raph and Donnie quickly shifted gears and guarded me to make sure the plastic freaks couldn’t grab me again. Mikey continued to aid Leo, bouncing all over the room, keeping the arms distracted with his flow and somehow, still bringing them back to where he originally stood: Away from Leo. 

Finally, a sword was heard stabbing through the air and splashing through a soft, squishy substance. The arms dropped to the floor as the thing in the wall hissed in pain, slowly leading to the dreadfully awaited silence at last.

Mikey reached his hand out for me and pulled me up. “You good?”

“Not dead, yeah.” 

“Guess that’s a start.”

I glanced to the side at Donnie staring blankly at me, confused until he walked over and held one of my arms to examine my wrap. 

“Hmm, I wonder if there’s some modification I can do to your gloves that prevents your sickles from getting so easily lost.” I guess that’s why he was staring a minute ago. 

“Honestly, that’d be great. I keep losing them, so…”

“Yeah, I was thinking—“ 

“Nerd-talk later! Do a med scan!” Leo shoved him out the way and accidentally knocked Mikey back. Didn’t seem like he noticed since he immediately started checking me for injuries. I don’t even know when he got here?

Donnie sighed but went through with it anyway, tapping on his wrist as he checked my vitals. “No broken bones, no internal bleeding, nothing too concerning to report thankfully. Salena, do you feel alright?” 

“Mhm! Just some scratches here and there but I’ll live.” 

“Just some scratches, hm? You forgettin’ something?” Leo pointed down to my horrifically bruised and bloody leg. Whoops.

“…I-I’ll still live.”

While Leo took care of bandaging my leg, the rest of us spent the next few minutes catching our breaths. Mikey laid on the floor, limbs starfished out, while Donnie was texting April and catching her up to speed. I can only imagine how devastated she’d be in the morning, finding out she missed all this action. It’d have been nice having her here, honestly. 

Raph wasn’t near us, though. He stood by the wall where the once-breathing specimen was at. He kept peeking through the crack, rubbing his arm and looking hesitant about something.

“Raph?” My voice prompted the others to turn their attention to him.

“…Nobody else wonderin’ what the hell this thing could be? I know we’re only here to stop the Purple Dinos—“

“That’s Purple Dragons, Raphala.”

“—Whatever! But really, guys! After all that, we just gonna head home and forget about it?” 

He’s not wrong.

Come to think of it, this place is government funded. There should be no reason why some foreign entity exists in a place like the TCRI. They’re supposed to do space research and nothing else. That’s what they’re paid for.

“You know what?” Donnie turned his phone off. “I could work on hacking through their system myself. I don’t know if it’ll prove successful, but I can try.”

I felt Mikey’s head drop on my shoulder. He sure loves doing that. “What do we do about the vine thingies?” 

“Well, we can’t just—“ Leo paused, making eye contact with Raph. They shared a smirk and nodded.

“You thinkin’ what thinkin’ big bro?”

He chuckled, punching his fists together. “You bet!”

A bright red aura surrounded his figure as his arm reeled back and locked the sais in his hands.

“POWER PUNCH JUTSU!!!”

My body staggered as the ground shook upon impact, the dust clearing to reveal the tiny gap in the wall is suddenly a giant ass hole now.

“Man, y’all really don’t give a shit about government property, do ya?” 

“Nope. But hey! It was def the right choice!” Raph’s snaggletooth gleamed through his mischievous smile.

The five of us stared through the hole, trying to comprehend the oversized specimen in front of us. It was a pulsing, yellow-green thing in the shape of a tall tube, wider on the top than the bottom. There were reddish lines on it zigzagging up and down almost like veins. It was punctured at its middle, caused by the blade of the katana that shot right through it a few moments ago. 

“Ya know, it kind of resembles a plant. Which would explain the mystery vines, actually.”

“What plant, then? Ain’t no plant Raph knows of that throbs.”

He shook his head with a light shrug. “Sadly, I am not sure. It looks a little like a pitcher plant but also not really? They shouldn’t be luminescent or have vines emerging out like that. And also the throbbing, of course.” 

Pitcher plant, ay? I’ve heard of that. They’re my favorite out of all the carnivorous jungle plants Zane rambled about once. Plants were actually one of the first things we had a genuine bond over, even if I’m pretty clueless about them. The way his eyes lit up when talking about them with so much love and adoration just melted me.

His eyes…

His godforsaken eyes…

“Salena?”

“Huh?” How long have I been spaced out?

“You sure you’re good? You seemed kinda out of it just now.” I forgot how close Mikey was to me, I should be more careful.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Really? ‘Cause lowkey, you’ve been off all night. I didn’t wanna say anything but…”

“Oh, no, no, I’m—“

“Actually, you did mention something happened between you and your friend earlier, remember? Before you called me.” This violet ass motherfucker did not just erm actually me at the worst time ever.

“That what this about, big man? Had another fight with your friend?” Why is everyone suddenly focused on me!?

“N-Not the same one! This is someone different, I promise! T-that’s not to say I have a problem with everyone! I just… Um…” Great going, Salena! Now they’ll think you’re just insufferable and incapable of friendship! “I-I don’t think we should be—Well, we kinda have worse issues to worry about, don’t we?”

“Kendra and her yes-men ain’t here yet. What I wanna know is why you’re so spacey tonight! Dr. Feelings can’t help if he can’t know!”

“It’s nothing! N-nothing too bad, at least. He just—A-actually, it was really mostly me so um… It’s hard to explain exactly…”

Geez, my palms are annoyingly sweaty. I really don’t wanna give them the wrong idea, it was just one fight! It’s not a representation of our entire relationship! But I know from experience any time I try talking about Zane to someone, they end up hating him and I don’t want that! Fuck, I should’ve been more careful. My stupid tongue-tied gibberish ain’t helping the situation, either!

My shoulders flinched when I saw Leo stand in front of me, hand on his hip as he faced towards his brothers. “Okay, hermanos, give her some space! Stop smothering! I know we’re all worried, I’m worried too, but if Salena doesn’t wanna talk, they shouldn’t be forced to.”

The others finally piped down. None of them looked happy about it—understandably so—but it seemed Leo was able to convince them to drop it, anyway. I really owe him one. 

He peeked over his shoulder to glance back at me. “If you do wanna talk about something, though, we’re here for you.” 

…It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t see how it’d help anything— 

CRASH!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HAVE WE NOT HAD ENOUGH SURPRISES FOR ONE NIGHT!?

“Good going, Jase. Real quiet of you.”

All of us, equally tense and gripping our weapons to stand guard, took a solid minute to process that the loud crash wasn’t another dumbass robot-plant-arm thing, but instead was Kendra and the other two stumbling through the main door they hacked open. Speak of the dragons and they arrive, I suppose.

She looked over at us and her sharp eyes drooped lower. “Of course.” 

I only ever knew Kendra before tonight, none of the other members. Hate her guts since she’s forever engraved as April’s bully in my mind and doesn’t seem to have changed. Her movements and mannerisms still match the coy, conniving person I remember her to be, walking over in such a smug, superior way that screams “greater than thou”. Once, back when they were still in high school, April had a mini breakdown due to college applications kicking her ass. She was struggling and stressing over not getting accepted into a good amount of her options and believed she’d have to rely solely on her safeties at that point. Kendra really rubbed it in. Wouldn’t shut up about it, demeaning her for being a failure. 

April knows damn well to never take Kendra seriously. However, it’s not a surprise those words still stung considering how stupidly frightening the whole college process is. Joke’s on Kendra, though. One of April’s main choices that had her wait-listed ended up accepting her in! As for Kendra? All hypocritical bark, no bite it seems. 

“Hello, Von Ryan. How’s life?”

“Good, good. How about you, enjoying your—what’d you call it? ‘Intellectual freedom’?” 

“Low blow even for you. You guys couldn’t fuck around here with your little toys another night?” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze drifted towards me as her brows furrowed more. 

“Who’s that—Hold up. You… Yeah, I remember you!” She’s doing that annoying fake-nice tone she uses sometimes, the one that makes me wanna punch her in the face. “You’re that idiot kid April wouldn’t shut up about tutoring last year! What’s a teacher’s pet like you doing here?”

Mikey gasped and covered my ears like a parent to a toddler witnessing sailor-speak. “Hey! Don’t you dare talk about our friend like that!” 

I honestly couldn’t care less what Kendra says about me. Personally, I’m more focused on the other two, right now. It’s my first time ever seeing them, I think Donnie said their names were Jason and Jeremy? They’ve been pretty quiet so far, standing at her side and smirking like Saturday-morning cartoon lackeys. One of them had a large, blocky figure, dark skin, and dyed green hair. His gold visor looked pretty cool, I’ll admit. The other—I could guess from his hunched demeanor alone—was definitely their token punching bag. He’s got these awkward gloves that are way too big for his hands. Dark eyes, short, black hair, and round… glasses…

NO FUCKING WAY!

“YOU—HIM! OH MY GOD! NOOOO, NO-NO-NO-NO! NO! NO!” Ain’t no motherfucking way this bitch is who I think he is, this has to be a prank! It has to! For the sake of my sanity! Oh, but it isn't! It’s fucking real!

“...Salena? You doin’ okay?” The others looked concerned at my sudden and dramatic outlash. Fucking of course, Donnie and Mikey wouldn’t know! Jason still had the bag over his head when he was around them! Fuck, why didn’t I just take it off right there!?

“Jason! That asshole was who we saved from Meatsweats a few months ago!”

Raph and Leo looked just as lost as before. Mikey and Donnie, on the other hand, went pale with shock.

“That was you!?” Donnie’s staff pointed directly at the fucker. “Why didn’t you say anything!? I know you recognized my voice!” 

“I can’t believe Salena and I interrupted a perfectly nice day to save you of all folks! You ruined our lovely little ice cream date, dawg!”

“I was being kidnapped by a pig monster? Why would I reveal I’m a rival when you were the only help I had?”

“And yet, here you are, the very reason we’re stuck in this creepy facility, preventing you three from illegally accessing information and doing who knows what with it even though you now owe us one, YOU UNGRATEFUL MENACE!”

Before I could fix my brain enough to join in on justifiably shaming the idiot, I noticed Leo and Raph exchanging confused glances at each other.

“...What the hell is going on?”

“Raph don’t know.” They both looked at me for answers because the universe hates me.

I tearfully and shamefully explained the bullshit scenario we are now stuck in due to my impulsivity. “Donnie, Mikey, and I saved a guy from Meatsweats I think back in April? H-he had a bag over his head so they didn’t know what he looked like and I-I was the only one who saw him without it b-but I didn’t know he was part of the fucking Purple Dragons and—Fuck my life! My first ever save and it was a villain!?” The one time I actually did something useful…

God, there’s so much noise everywhere! Everyone’s arguing with each other or trying to get it to stop or whatever else is going on! My head hurts. Why did I even come here? I should’ve just went home. I should’ve stayed with Zane. I keep getting in the way, I keep making mistakes, I keep ruining things!

I have to keep my composure, though. I don’t wanna cry in a situation like this, not when I’ve already done enough harm.

“Wait a sec, where’s Jeremy?” 

We all paused, the realization clearing up as we heard a cheer from another room. “Yes! I got in! I got past the system!”

“Holy shit, he’s in the computer lab! Quick, we—” 

A bat hit Donnie straight on his stomach and knocked him back, Raph catching him so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

Kendra clicked her tongue as she laughed. “I gotta hand it to ya, you morons somehow turned off these stupid security systems. Definitely the most annoying part I’d have had to figure out; I guess that’s why I wanted ‘em, anyway. I don’t know how you did it but congrats! You’re not completely useless.” It looked more like she was addressing Donnie over any of us.

“But now?” She and Jason blocked the door. Her bat stood by her side. “Stay out of my fucking way.”

Obviously, that’s not happening, so chaos erupted instead. One would think a Two VS. Five would be pretty easy to handle… until they saw how well Kendra used her bat, that is. She’s faster than I expected, able to zip around before anyone could properly react. Definitely has a strong arm, too. Then, of course, there’s the traitor. Jason pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and took out his own set of weapons. Or should I say, whipped them out. ‘Cause they’re actually fucking whips. 

They were almost impossible to get by. Glowing in the dark room, buzzing from the static friction they made against each other. 

He targeted them towards Leo who barely managed to dodge just in time. Mikey, not being as lucky, got smacked right in the face.

“OW! Hey! Since when did he even have those!?” 

“Oh! Since last week, actually. I made them using—”

Either the bitch has good hearing or I was too loud when my sickle swung at his head. “Are ya dense!? How are you still tryna maintain small-talk after literally betraying us!? You know what I looked like, you wouldn’t have even said anything if I didn’t call you out! You lied to me! I saved you and you lied!”

“AH! The hell, man!? You’re gonna kill me for that!?”

“No!” The sickles weren’t sharp, only a little solid. I know I gotta resist. Unfortunately. “Just knock you out for a bit, you scheming piece of shit!” 

I wish I could say I was making up for my several blunders tonight by at least being able to handle the living embodiment of a toothpick. My leg’s not super mangled up but, surprise-surprise, it’s hard to move at my fastest and dodge with it still being injured. He’s a little impressively good with those whips, too. It’s hard keeping track of where they both are at all times, the difficulty only increased by how quick he’s able to use them considering he’s only trained for a week. I’m trying my damn best with what I can.

“Oh my god, give it up with the guilt-tripping! I’m not gonna turn on my sister just ‘cause you saved me once!”

“Hell no! I risked turning into mutant-munchies for you—Hol’ up a sec.” The pure blasphemy that came out of his mouth shocked me so bad, I actually had to pause. “Kendra’s your sister? Ew, what’s that like?”

Yet another mistake on my part. One of the whips wrapped around my sickle to fling it and I—determined to not lose them again—got shot through the air along with it. 

At this rate, I’ll be free-bird flying and crashing to the floor every five minutes. I don’t even feel like getting up anymore. Fuck, I don’t usually feel pain so easily.

Hm?

The battle ground’s a little chaotic so it’s hard to follow when in the middle of it. But, now that I’m seeing it from a distance, everyone’s intentions are suddenly ten times clearer. Kendra’s hovering towards a specific direction, dancing around the door to where Jeremy is. Jason’s distracting everyone and keeping them from paying attention to her. I have a feeling that’s very much so on purpose.

She’s starting to go in. I guess it doesn’t matter whether or not I want to, I gotta get up now. I closed my eyes and with whatever strength I had, used my sickles to turn invisible and go after her. 

I snuck by Kendra and entered the lab. Jeremy was glued to the computer, staring at a loading screen. On the side of the PC was a USB stuck to the port. Of course, accidentally saving the villain wasn’t enough! They had to use the same shitty USB we went back for, too.

“Jeremy, status report!”

“It’s almost done downloading the files! Just a few more seconds and… We got it!”

“Nice work! Quick! Toss ‘em over!”

Oh boy, if Kendra’s able to gain the instructions for those freaky arms, who knows what she’ll make with it! I can’t let them get access to anything here!

 Thus, following my usual rule of acting-without-thinking, I threw a sickle at the USB. I don’t know if it was my panic or my rage that caused it to be so sharp but it cut the USB in half mid-air and smashed straight into one of the PCs. My punishment for resorting to such destructively impulsive solutions was being greeted by the lovely melody of security sirens going off for breaking their important tech.

“No! My USB! There was so much stuff in that! Fuck!” She is so seriously distraught over the wrong thing. 

Upon retrieving my sickle, I hadn’t realized I was flickering in and out of visibility till Kendra’s bat nearly made contact with my head. “You little skeeze! Do you have any idea how much of my progress you destroyed!” 

“But that’s mine and Jason’s progress—“

“SHUT UP!” She snapped her head back to bark at him and I took my moment of escape, knocking her down out of my way. Still, she kept up by yanking at my leg and pulling me down with her, severely getting on my nerves by now.

So, I kicked her in the face.

She stayed there, groaning in pain, while her sidekick buddy checked on her. Sure, I could’ve kicked a little softer but I think a bloody nose is merciful enough for her. 

I returned to the lobby, greeted by chaos more hectic than before. The alarms and sirens were still blaring, red lights flashing on and off the entire facility. Our oh so beloved security arm friends returned in even greater numbers now! If I believed in superstition, I’d believe this night was cursed.

Jason’s looking a little overwhelmed now having to solo both the Teenage Mutant Mad Dogz and the newly emerged robot claws, yet he’s still not giving in and letting the guys go in peace. Speaking of them, they’re scattered all over the place, trying to keep themselves and each other from getting yoinked and flung like I was earlier. 

Donnie was the only one who managed to maneuver over to me.

“Salena!?” 

“Donnie! What’s going on!? Where’d the stupid arms come from!?”

“Well, I suppose it’d be impractical if they only had one source of their weird mystic high-tech robots, so there’s that.” He spun his tech-bō and whacked away the claw that was following him. “What happened in there? You disappeared and then we heard a loud crash from that room and suddenly everything got dialed up to eleven!”

“Uh, yeah, my fault, I uh—Eek!” Thank god for reflexes, the only thing that let me slice at a robot arm before it sliced me. “Good news is, I destroyed the USB they were using so Kendra can’t access the government’s whatever-the-fuck anymore! Bad news, I also accidentally destroyed one of their computers in the process, set off the security alarms, and now we’re here. Sorry, haha…” 

“You what!?”

“It was an accident, I swear! I really didn’t mean—”

“You annoying little twinkle-toes!” Kendra charged at us from behind and her bat swung directly at me. Thankfully, Donnie blocked it from knocking me dead and sent Kendra back a few steps. 

“You know what? If you got Kendra this mad, then you’re forgiven for everything on my terms! Let’s go!” He grabbed my wrist and dragged us away from the bat-wielding maniac.

Though, I’m not sure whether a metal bat or metal claws are worse. A bunch of them charged towards me now that I got back within their sight. 

“Move!” He shoved me out of the way of the monster claws.

I slid on the ground, actually keeping my balance this time, and swung at another claw coming from my right. Without having a moment to breathe, I ducked and slashed at one right above me. I would’ve missed the one coming from behind me, had Raph not been there and created a mystic shield. There’s so many all around the flat and it seems I’m still their favorite toy. 

“Salena, try hidin’ somewhere!” He punched one of the claws straight on, the impact causing a loud clunk. “They keep coming after you!” 

“I can’t! They saw me even when I turned invisible, they probably have a different type of vision or something!” 

“Infrared vision, genius!” Kendra’s bat got caught by my sickle. She aimed for my torso this time, I’m surprised it wasn’t back at my head. “They were built with thermal sensors! Which I would’ve been able to shut off if somebody didn’t break the computers!”

“God, were you built to get on people’s nerves!?” 

I’ve just about had it with her bullshit, reflected in my blades turning sharp enough to slice her bat in half. I elbowed her in the stomach and took the chance to roll over to a new spot. The closest I can get to hiding is continuously moving, staying in one place meant getting hoarded.

Mikey grumbled nearby, his nunchucks spinning in his hands. “Man, they’re too much! We gotta go! Leo?”

“A bit busy!” Busy was right, he’s cutting down a good number of the plastic pains with his katanas. There’s no good opportunity to use them as an escape portal, let alone any safe ones.

Beep! Beep!

Donnie raised his gauntlet up and flashed what I assume to be the building’s security cameras he hacked into. “Oh, no, no, no, guys! They’re sending actual human officers up now! What do we do!?”

Everyone’s panicked, shit’s fucked to the brim, and the constant beeps and shrieks are only making it harder to think! Kendra’s yelling about her bat, Mikey’s chosen to deal with the Purple Disasters while they’re bickering away, Raph’s boxing the claws and shielding Donnie, who’s frantically typing at his wristwatch to hack the security, and Leo’s… Screaming and getting flung. Sweet, we’ve matched now.

I ran over to Leo, guarding him from the arms trying to take advantage of the situation. “So, how’d you like your first flight?”

“I’d prefer it more if I was actually expecting it.” He got up almost as fast as he crashed down, not wasting a single second to getting back in the fight. “Ugh, I gotta get us out of here, but I need an opening!”

“Want me to try clearing something out?”

“You got any plans on how—Shit, get back!” His arm pushed me back behind him to avoid getting hit. 

The white tails of my ribbon flew forward, slightly blocking my vision. I looked straight ahead, past the death machines and battle-ground chaos, and saw the glass windows showcasing the brightly-lit city night.

The ribbon…

…Bingo.

“I actually might.” I tugged at the silk tails and felt my hair flow down as it got undone. “Just trust me and get everyone out at the first opportunity you get!”

“Wait, what are you—”

I dashed past him before he could ask any questions, no real time for them now. My multitasking skills were given the ultimate test as I focused on darting across the room, intentionally getting the arms to gather and chase after me, while tying the ribbon to the handles of my sickles and connecting them together. 

In the corner of my eye, I saw Mikey had managed to take out Kendra and her sidekicks. Don’t even gotta worry about them now, it’s going better than I thought! There was pounding at the door. Seems Donnie locked the officers out for now, but I doubt it’ll be long till they find a way to break in by force. Gotta move fast. This plan could fail horrifically, but it’s the best shot we’ve got!

With all the security arms focused on me now, the boys had a clear opening to leave. I sprinted to the windows, wound back my sickles, and broke the glass with a single throw. 

Now or never!

“HOT SOUP!!!” 

And out the window I went.

The air felt amazing, rushing by my skin as I let gravity take over the fall. I turned myself over, now looking up at the sky. The arms were shooting out the windows, unable to reach down any further to get me. A flash of blue from the inside indicated everyone was out safely. That’s my cue to prevent myself from dying now!

I held onto one of my sickles and swung the other one up. My spine tingled as a pink aura washed over my hand and over the sickle that I grabbed, trailing its way up the white silk ribbon…

Transforming it to chains!?

The pure white mystic chain clanked as it stretched out. The sickle I threw up now broke through the glass side of the building and continued shattering through it straight down. A few broken shards chipped at me as I snapped back to reality and remembered the original plan. I closed my eyes and refocused on the sickles. No thoughts, no distractions, no room for any of them. I have to breathe. I have to focus. 

The blades morphed them into a stiff rubber. Too soft to break the glass, too strong to break itself in half, effectively yanking me to a stop. 

I did it.

I actually fucking did it!

“Holy truffle mac and cheese, that was awesome!”

“I know!” I excitedly greeted Donnie who had flown over using his jet pack. “I can’t believe it went so well! You saw it all?”

“And recorded!” He turned his back towards me and pointed at his shell. “Need a ride?” 

“Definitely.” 

We cruised across the sky onto the roof of a nearby building where the rest of the guys were. The instant I hopped off Donnie’s shell, Leo jumped me with a hug, followed by several frantic checks to make sure all limbs were intact.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? What’s wrong with you? You’re crazy! You’re crazy, you know that!?”

“Now who’s smothering them?” Mikey snickered at Leo, who looked relieved and on the verge of tears at the same time. 

“Everyone shut up and look at this video first! You’ll probably forget whatever meaningless chitchat you were having, anyway!” Donnie hissed from glee, using his extra mechanical limbs to huddle us all around his phone that was playing the video of me from a few moments ago. 

Looking at the footage now, it seemed the pink aura actually came from my whole body. It spread throughout my arms and circled past my hands, flowing to the white ribbon and replacing them with shimmering, white chains. 

Mikey screamed from excitement, holding onto my hands. “MYSTIC CHAINS! Omigosh, we match now! We’re like twins!” 

“I know! Isn’t it great!? We can be chain buddies—Eh, nevermind, that doesn’t sound right.” 

We sat around for a while so Leo could help with all the cuts and microscopic bits of glass stuck to me. In the meantime, they were all curious how the chains even came to be, which I sadly didn’t have a clear answer for. I went ahead and reassured them my plan would’ve still worked with the ribbon itself, though. Speaking of, I can’t really get my ribbon back now. Sorry, Mi. However, I did figure out how to make the chains vanish and re-materialize, so at least I don’t have to learn a different fighting style! 

Donnie was paying attention, I think. Just multitasking with a few holographic monitors up. He sighed and put ‘em away after a while.

“Yeah, no, sorry guys. Maybe my brain’s too fuzzy but I can’t hack into the actual database tonight.”

“No big deal, Don. Ya done enough.” Raph gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Hey, you guys wanna go grab some pizza? Raph could use a break.”

“Yeah, I think we all could.” Hopeful, green eyes faced towards me. “Salena? It’s late but… You wanna join us for a bit?”

It’s around 3am now. If I went home now, I’d only get three hours of sleep and that’s assuming I’ll conk out immediately. It’s not impossible, though, I can feel the energy crash creeping up from all the adrenaline. But, I don’t know. I don’t wanna go yet. 

“I’m already out, aren’t I? Might as well!” 

Turns out, for once tonight, I made the right choice. It was fun getting to be with them in a more casual manner. Just chilling at a park, enjoying some pizza, and re-energizing myself as I watched them goof around. I checked through my phone while I enjoyed the delicious cheesy glory.

Everything seemed normal.

Except for one tiny issue.

I was putting it off but Zane sent a voice note to me a few hours ago. I don’t have earbuds but everyone’s pretty distracted right now, anyway. I could listen to it. Maybe it’s… Maybe it’s better than I think it is. 

I lowered the volume just to have it barely audible and clicked play.

“Hey. Um… I hope you’re home and safe now. I…” He sighed and went silent for a while. 

“This wasn’t how I intended tonight to be. It was such a gorgeous night. The weather was perfect. Everything was perfect. It was all going so well. What happened? Why do we always end up like this?”

I wish I knew. Or that he knew. Maybe we could’ve helped each other if just one of us knew what was the problem.

“Everything in my life always goes so wrong. I’m so tired of it, Salena. You’re the only thing I haven’t messed up. I don’t want to mess this up. I just—” I could hear a creek from the door opening as someone came in the room. “Yeah, it’s on the floor, clean it up. I don’t know how, just go clean it!”

Sounds of glass being swept up filled the background atmosphere. Zane sighed again. “Sorry. One of my vases broke tonight. The cherry on top, right? Anyway, uh… I’ll just end it here. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re dreaming of something nice. And I’m… I’m sorry.”

The voice note ended. It wasn’t that bad, I guess. I feel a little bad about earlier but I’m glad he apologized. I guess things are fine now. I should probably leave a text, it’d be wrong to hold a grudge if the situation’s already resolved. 

You: hey i’m safe yea. I just wanna say i’m sorry too for lashing out like that earlier. I hope you’re sleeping well, sweet dreams and see ya tomorrow <3

There we go. Nothing to worry about now. Nothing to stress over.

A hand tapped at my shoulder. I raised my head to meet Mikey smiling down at me. “Mind if I sit? They’re bein’ a little loco even for my taste right now.”

I looked straight and saw Leo and Donnie arguing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza and Raph taking the opportunity to sneakily eat their slices. Pretty tame behavior from them, but Mikey’s tone was too lighthearted to be serious, anyway. 

I shifted over on the bench and patted the empty space next to me. He sat down and brought his knees to his chest, his back leaning against my side. He shuffled with his phone for a bit before offering me one of his earbuds. “Wanna listen to Fall Out Boy with me?”

“Sure!” 

I could use some music after tonight.

Next Chapter

This chapter was nearly 15K words btw-

[themysteriousauthor18]

PT. 1

1985 Louisiana New Orleans. The French Quarter.

“Good morning, New Orleans! My name is Alastor, and I’ll be your brand new host for this morning broadcast! We’ll be taking some calls later, but for now I’d like to play you one of my favorite songs. Please enjoy!”

An upbeat jazzy tune begins to play. A little outdated for the time period but hey, radio itself was pretty outdated.

The man crouching by the radio hums along to the tune. “Interesting.. He managed to do it.” He’d been hearing about Alastor a lot recently; an up-and-coming star in the radio industry. Only the age of 19, and he had already become a fan favorite.

            That singular thought in the man’s mind swept away as he closed his eyes, listening to the music. 

This man is Lucifer Morningstar. 

He is a young 18-year-old, and the heir to his family's fortune. Everything about his appearance screams privileged. He has short blonde hair that’s always gelled back, his white skin hadn’t a blemish on it; smooth as a newborn's skin. His amber eyes are soft, relaxed. His body’s dressed to the nines in a collection of gold and white. Although right now, in place of the full suit he’s shedded his overcoat to reveal the pink striped vest. Which is laying open. 

The music picks up a bit more. It had started off with upbeat piano, and now a blend of trumpets and saxophones were carrying the melody. An undertone of trombones added the bass, and soft drums kept the beat. A hint of clarinets top it off with the high notes. This goes on for a bit before a smooth yet fast-paced violin solo picks up the melody. Overall, it's a really fun song, considering it's from a time period that was over sixty years ago. Everyone nowadays prefers rock.

 He pushes off the dresser the crimson radio is sitting on and begins to dance with himself around the large bedroom as the trumpets take over again. It's way too big - in his opinion - to even be a bedroom. I mean, who needs a room the size of a gas station? Hell, this place was like his own personal apartment. He had his bed, his bathroom, his balcony, his..

Okay, yeah…this is too much room. Like, waaaaay too much. 

But when the radio plays, the music seems to take up all the unnecessary space. He likes music, he likes swaying to it. He likes using all the extra room to needlessly dance around. It’s…fun. 

A loud bang suddenly comes from behind him and he flinches. The large wooden doors were thrown open so hard they hit the wall. Lucifer turns to find his doppelganger staring him down, his nose wrinkling at the upbeat jazzy music. “Turn that off.” He scolds. “You're supposed to be practicing ballroom dancing, not…that.” He gestured to Lucifer’s random twirling around the room that he was doing.

 Michael Morningstar. Lucifer's spitting image…no literally. They’re identical twins - well, except for their eye color. They look the exact same at a first glance aside from Michael having dark eyes as opposed to Lucifer's bright blue eyes. Everything else, however, is the same. Their jawlines, their facial structures, their body types…Truthfully, the only way anyone could tell them apart without paying close attention - if they were to cover their eyes, of course - is their mannerisms. 

Lucifer sighs, “come on, brother. My tutor isn’t even here. How am I supposed to practice without her?” 

Michael’s posture is perfect, while Lucifer is slouched at the shoulders. His hair is gelled back too, while Lucifer’s is sticking out in random directions now. “I don’t care.” He states. “You know what you're expected to do. Now do it.”

Lucifer walks to his brother, and without warning he grabs his hands and pulls them towards him. The loud jazzy music is still playing through his room. “Come on, brother,” Lucifer says joyfully with a bright smile. “Come dance with me, let's have a bit of fun!”

Michael rips his hands away at the word fun, like Lucifer just said something foul. Lucifer watches in dismay as Michael shrinks back to the doorway. “Just turn it off. You have to meet with our father soon anyway. Clean yourself up and meet me in the dining room.” 

There isn’t another word on the matter because Michael is already closing the door. It roars with a louder slam than expected as it closes and Lucifer stands there, defeated. From the radio, the jazzy song starts to slow; yet to Lucifer, it's far away now. He’d been cruelly ripped from whatever fantasy he was just in. Dejected, Lucifer walks over to the radio and quickly turns the knob, silencing the radio and thus the room. 

Michael is the brother the family wishes was their heir. He’s everything they could possibly want. Perfect posture, perfect actions, perfect teeth, perfect manners. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect everything. 

Then there was him.

Lucifer. 

The odd child to the Morningstars. The one that acts as a normal teen, all things considered. The one that likes to have fun, play pranks, sneak out with friends and go partying. While Michael preferred to attend the business meetings, Lucifer wanted to go out and party. Where Michael preferred classical music, Lucifer liked loud energetic jazz and some rock. Where Michael wanted to eat a high-class lobster dinner prepared by the finest chefs, Lucifer would gladly take a greasy burger from a diner, or hell, some macaroni and cheese with chicken strips.

The point here is that while they look practically the same, they couldn’t be more different. If Lucifer was being honest, he does wish Michael was the heir, and he knows Michael wants to be the heir, too. If they had the same eye color, he would gladly agree to switch places - hell, even identities with him - if it means he doesn't have to be forced to do all this boring stuff. That he doesn't have to put up a front, to pretend to be something he isn't. Deep down, Lucifer knows his father would probably have switched them too, given the choice. If not for their one - very clearly different - physical trait.

Maybe Lucifer could have gotten eye surgery or something when they were younger to change their eye colors. If that was even possible? Or maybe he could've worn color-changing contacts while out in public? That would've been much easier. 

           But now, he’s sure it was too late to try anything. They’re older, and the difference in their mannerisms are too noticeable to the public. The public even knew Lucifer as the oddball to the Morningstars. The one who's more kind to the lower class, more goofy. Whereas Michael was the colder of the two - all business, all work, and absolutely no play.

In all honesty, the only reason Lucifer was the heir was because of their birth. They were twins, but Lucifer had been the first out of his mother’s womb. They were the only children of their father, twin boys. And he was the oldest - if only by 5 minutes, but still the oldest. 

Lucifer sighs, deciding to stop wishing the gods above for a second chance at birth. And to take his time and let Michael go out first. Honestly, if he could go back in time to the day of his birth he’d tell his unborn self. There’s no rush. Really. Being the first born sucks! Just take your time, enjoy the scenery of uh…Anyway- don't rush kid! Really. Dont. He swore Michael was practically pushing him to get out first anyway. He should have let him, if he was even conscious enough for that. Probably not he barely had a brain at birth. 

Lucifer groans loudly and shakes his head.

Okay no more stalling. He has to get cleaned up and meet his father in the dining hall. He knows there’s no way to get out of this position he’s literally born into. So he sucks it up and tries to make himself more presentable. Putting his white overcoat back on. 

…The halls of Lucifers ‘home’ are large. Towering above him. He’s always felt so small here. It doesn’t take him long to descend the spiraling stairs to the first floor of the mansion. And walk the Victorian styled halls. Their mansion and family came from old money. The mansion being around for far longer than Lucifer and his generation. So the interior design was never designed for the time period they were in. Not compared to friends of his who had their own mansions. Ones that were far more bright and colorful. Compared to his own that always held a dark and dready feeling to it.

Lucifer side eyes a particular painting hanging on the wall as he makes his way into the main hall that leads to their front door. He stops walking, examining it. 

Its a portrait of his father in black and white. There hallway is lined with portraits of each of the house masters. Or as he likes to put it…whoever is currently in charge of their fortune. And right now, that was his father. 

He stares down the portrait. 

His father is sitting in a large armchair, his face is a stern look. He’s frowning and staring straight ahead at the camera. His blonde hair is gelled back with wing tips at the earlobe. Lucifer is disturbed by how much he looks like his father, the only different is the that his father looks older. He has wrinkles under his eyes and frown lines around his mouth. But the portrait was painted when his father was only twenty. When he took over the house. 

Lucifer doesn’t deny the truth.  That the portrait is his future. That the man sitting in that chair will be him very soon. He’s eighteen and he knows whatever freedom he has, it's quickly drying up. He frowns, debating for a moment weather or not he could find some happiness in such a future. If he could truly be that kind of person. If he even had it in him. 

He shakes his head, freeing the thoughts of his mind. He briskly turns on his heel and walks down the hall to the dining room at a brisk pace. When Lucifer gets to the door he desperately pushes down the rising energy trying to push its way through his body. Urging his legs to turn and run. He doesn’t. He’s learn not to.

Pushing the door open welcomes that same loud and foreboding creak it always does with these old doors. Lucifer’s eyes immediately find the three bodies sitting at the table as he entered the large dining room. The fireplace is lit - even though its much to warm for it - and its warm glow is flickering off of the man at the head of the table. Dark shadows dances across his wrinkled and sunken face. His dark eyes hold no warmth and they find Lucifer immediately. Already looking at him with annoyance. A lecture on his tongue.

“You're late.” 

He was only a minute late. 

“I’m sorry father.” Lucifer apologies anyway. 

He and his brother are practically the spitting image of their father. Their faces just softer than their old mans. And were they have that bright blonde their fathers hair has already fully grayed. Something not uncommon for the head of their family. Its due to stress, Lucifer believes. For his father isn’t old enough to have full gray hair. But its something he doesn’t need nor have the time to ponder on. 

His father demands him to sit without saying it. Lucifer is already in his chair. When he’s had a moment to catch his breath he finally looks at the other two in the room. 

One is an older white man with dark short hair thats a comb-over. He has a small mustache and he’s a little on the heavier side. Beside him his a young woman appearing to be around his age. Or at least that’s his guess. She shares the same colored hair to her - presumably father? - her face is soft. Round. Her hair is long and delicately styled into a french braid. Her eyes are green but they aren’t particularly bright. She’s wearing a white dress, and sitting with perfect posture. 

His father doesn’t wait a second. “Lucifer this is Mr. Caleb. And his daughter, Eve,” He gestures to them. 

Eve holds her hand out expectantly. “It’s lovely to meet you.” 

Lucifer - trained like a dog - rises out of his seat long enough to take Eve’s hand and press a polite kiss to her knuckles. 

“The pleasure is all mine madam.” He returns, trying not to cringe as the insensirity between them. “And you as well sir.” He says, reaching out for a handshake from Mr. Caleb who returns it quickly. His hand is weak compared to the older mans. But it seems to suffice. He sits back down promptly. 

With pleasantries out of the way Lucifer’s father continues. “Lucifer, you are not engaged to Eve.” He says it so matter of factly that Lucifer barely registers it. His father doesn’t wait, simply going on. “You two will have a proper wedding in two months from now. You will begin making public appearances next week together.” He pauses, gestures to Eve and adds “she will grace you with her company from now until the wedding. That is understood I presume.”

Lucifer hopes the panic doesn’t show on his face. “Yes father.” 

That's the end of their discussion. Nothing more and nothing less. That’s the way of things in the morningstar manor. 

… 

…The next few weeks go by as you would expect. Lucifer is essentially ordered to spend time with Eve. He doesn’t mind it all that much. Eve isn’t annoying or rude. He’s just…not sure how to act around her. Their first meeting (alone) went about as well as he could hope.

They’re meeting in his family's garden now. A large lush area (and probably the once place he liked on the property). It was the one thing on their property that had color to it. In his opinion. It was a large space with a gate around it. The perimeter is filled with rose bushes. The interior is paved with trees, a fountain and smaller bushes. There’s a brick path leading around the garden and at the center is a gazebo. Where Eve waited. 

When Lucifer steps into the gazebo she looks at him. She’s wearing white again, so is he. It seems they are always matching. He’s not sure if that's on purpose or an accident. “Hello, Lucifer.” She says and he feels…weird, at how robotic she sounds. 

He walks over and takes her hand, giving her that same greeting he had when they first met. “Hello Eve. Lovely to see you again.” He looks up at her, hand loosely in his. She stares at him and he stares back, trying to examine her face. She looks flat. Her expression that is. Like a blank slate. 

He takes his hand away and takes a step back. Feeling weird about being so close to her. But when he looks at the greenier around them she continues to stare at him. Keeping her hands on her lap. Lucifer’s outfit is a little lighter today. He’s just wearing a white vest and short-sleeved button up. He needed his skin to breathe a little. But now he feels a little too exposed. 

To say things were awkward between them was an understatement. For Lucifer at least. “Sooo…what do you like to do?” Lucifer isn’t sure when he started tapping his foot. But he is. 

“Whatever my father permits me to do, I enjoy.” Was what Eve chose to say. 

Lucifer frowns, rubs his nape. Its sweaty. “Do you like to wear the white a lot?” 

“My father says it's elegant. So I do.” 

Lucifer begins to walk around the interior of the gazebo. Tapping his fingers on the railings. Eve never seems to move much, just observing him. He pauses, looks at her then gets an idea. “Hey!” She does the most expressive thing so far, raising her brow. 

“Yes?”

Lucifer walks a little closer. “Do you wanna go get some food or something? I know this great pizza place! It’s kinda down near the slums…Buuut their pizza is really great. And if he throw on some disguises nobody will-”

“I’m not interested in such activities.” She says pointedly. But politely. It doesn’t have the same bite as his fathers words do when he refuses something. But it does have that same implied message. We are rich. We don’t associate with the lower class. 

“Oh…okay.” Lucifer deflated a little. He pauses, “then what do you wanna talk about?” 

Eve ponders the question, then says “Only what’s necessary.” 

All of their interactions after that were the same. Lucifer doesn't enjoy the feeling he gets when around Eve. She wasn’t a bad person herself. But he noticed whenever they were together, compared to her, he felt like…well like a child. He offered to go out and do fun things. Pizza, parties, dancing - the fun kind, not the boring ballroom dancing with poise and proper etiquette. But every time he suggested anything of that sort she would always promptly - yet politely - turn him down. Saying it wasn’t something they should be doing. Because they were high class people and they shouldn’t do such things as having fun…Okay maybe she didn’t say exactly that but he knew she meant it.

So while he tried to enjoy the time spent with Eve, he didn’t. He tried to watch her, examine her. Figure out what she was thinking. But she was impossible to read. So one day he simply asked, “do you even wanna marry me?” 

Eve’s always calm face falters for once, and she frowns. Something in her eyes becomes a little more distant. Her reaction throws him off a little and makes him think, maybe she isn’t a robot. 

“It's what my father wants.” Is what she tells him.

When she said that, he had added “do you even like me? Or like being around me?” 

She looks at him then, and thinks about his question..for once. “You're pleasant company to be around,” is the simple answer she gives. He takes that as her not liking him in a romantic way, but at least considering him a friend. At least that's what he sees it as. 

He isn’t offended, he is relieved honestly. Because truth be told, he didn’t like her either. Not romantically at least. She was fine to be around. And while it was super boring he had been around worse people. She wasn’t bad, she was just quiet and doing what she was told. He was fine being friends but he couldn’t consider there to be any chemistry between them. She was too mature, too…all business and no fun. She’d already grown up. And he was still a child. 

He felt worse because he knew deep down it didn’t matter how he felt. They had less than a month by the time he realized he could never love her. And further realized that a marriage between them would be more like a play they were forced to put on for the rest of their lives. He dreaded it honestly. It felt like he walked into a much larger cage. It was just now, he had a cellmate. 

By the time their wedding was two weeks away Lucifer had given up all hope of finding happiness in his future. He had spoken to his friends about it. And while Bee and Ozzy suggested he just marry her and do secret dating on the side he knew he couldn’t. Even if Eve agreed to it. Not for the fact of cheating, because they weren’t together. It was an act, so he knew she wouldn’t care. It was more for the sake of whatever person he chose. If he fell in love he wanted to share a life with them. One that was out in the open, not hidden away behind closed doors.  That was no way to live. And it would only add more stress to him. 

His friends understood when he told them this. They were freer than him. Don't bond too these old money rules of marrying people your parents chose for you. He envied them, he really did. 

His friends felt bad for him, and so it was for this reason they decided to whisk Lucifer away one night. Tangled style. Except in reverse. They came to his window and he threw a rope down, tying it down with something and shimming down the wall and out of his ‘palace’. And off the three of them went, him Ozzy and Bee. They took him to a night club down in the lower class area. Those were the best according to Bee. They knew how to have fun. Lucifer had gone with some kind of disguise wearing a brown wig (that Bee got him) and instead of his usual white that he was so known for. He was wearing black. He meshed well with the dark lights of the club.

So it was here he found himself, two weeks before the wedding. At a nightclub one night. Sneaking out to meet up with his friends Bee and Ozzy weren’t uncommon. But it has been more difficult recently because of the upcoming marriage. He wondered if he would ever be able to do these kinds of things after the marriage.  The club was owned by his friend Bee. And this one was located in more of the lower class area. The nightclub was noisy, crowded with people that all melted into white noise of endless conversations and chatter. 

It's dark - obviously - and multicolored lights light up the club. There’s a dance floor all lit up with a rainbow pattern bouncing around, that's where Bee and Ozzy are right now. Or last he saw them at least. As for Lucifer himself, he’s standing at a high table, leaning his elbows on it. The public in general aren’t really his thing, he’s never good at being social. He always comes off more awkward than he wants too but Bee and Ozzy always make him more relaxed. But tonight he can’t calm down no matter what he does. 

“Woo!” Lucifer jumps at the loud - although familiar - voice behind him. He peers over his shoulder and looks up, and up and up and upppp. Until he finds Ozzie behind him. He’s stretching, “damn they are killin’ it on the dance floor tonight.” Ozmodious is a bulky built black man who is very tall. His hair is braided into short dreads that came down to his earlobes, the tips were dyed blue and what looked like the beginning of a beard was starting to grow around his mouth and jaw. Although as intimidating as Ozzie looked, he was actually very laid back and the chillest man Lucifer knew. 

“Hey Lucy,” he said, swinging an arm around him. Nearly squeezing him half the deaf, he manages to lift him an inch off the ground - not on purpose - In his hug.

“Hey Ozzy-” Lucifer all but wheezes. 

Ozzy loosens his grip on the lord's shoulders. “You sure you dont wanna join me and Bee on the dance floor?” He pauses, inspecting Lucifer’s face. How it scrunches up slightly. “Or maybe go somewhere else? After All this is supposed to be your night.” Your last night of freedom. The truth goes unspoken.

Lucifer for his part offers a smile, it was in no way convincing but he tries anyway. “No, I’m okay, but thank you.” He has to raise his voice a little over the blaring music and crowd. 

Ozzy frowns, “are you sure?” He says loudly. Also talking over the music, it's a bass heavy song. 

“Yeah.” Lucifer maintains his smile. He’s used to it from all the public appearances over the course of his life. “Go have fun. I’m just gonna hang here and keep on drinkin!” He holds up his martini glass. It’s a pink fruity looking drink with an umbrella in it. Some would argue it's emasculating to drink something so pink but he doesn’t care, he can’t stand the more bitter alcohols he’s expected to drink at gatherings. Besides, he likes pink. It meshes well with his usual white wardrobe.

Ozzy shrugs,” if you say so. But if you need us you know where we at.” With that Ozzy walks off leaving Lucifer to his drink.

He keeps his smile up until Ozzy melts back into the crowd and he lets it fall. 

He turns his eyes back to his martini glass. And studies the pink liquid inside. This is his…5th? 6th? Glass? He’s lost track honestly. And while he’s not as out of it as he wants to be his senses are certainly dulled. His movements feel more sluggish. The music doesn’t feel so close anymore. He prefers it this way. Even though in the back of his mind, he knows he’s an easy target. 

Lucifer lazily traces his index along the rim of his glass, his eyes fall lidded and he frowns. There’s a part of his mind that whispers, like a temptress. That he doesn’t have to go back, he could run away tonight. Run away somewhere far were nobody knows his name. Its…an appealing thought. But only to someone half drunk and well on their way to being wasted. And he knows that while it’s an appealing thought now, it would probably come back to bite a somber him in the ass. So he ignores such an intrusive thought. 

He sighs, and pours the entire glass down his throat. It tingles and burns only a little but it's sweet. He sets it down on the table with a heavy clink. Great…his distraction is now in his stomach and well on its way to his brain. Now what? 

As if on cue, something snatches his buzzing mind away from his empty glass. Lucifer looks up hearing the loud cheers that manage to cut through the booming music. Was someone being murdered? Would they consider shanking him too? No? Too bad. 

  Thankfully nobody is being killed, rather it's just a small crowd around a table. They’re honestly too close to him. Being just a few feet away at another table. With their shoving and bumping he fears they might shove him too. With all the commotion he can’t help but see what the fuss is about. He doesn’t have to look far. The woman dancing on top of the table isn’t exactly hard to miss, even amongst the sea of people in the club. She’s the only person doing that he notices.

Lucifer stares at her.

She’s a tall slender white woman, her body is thin and curved all to viewable for the public through her form fitting black dress. That has an open back - all the way down to her waist, and cuts off at the mid-thighs. She’s dancing to the bass of the music - her long, waist-length hair swaying with every movement. Her hips move as if they are the ones producing the music coming out of the club. Her hair is long, blonde and her lips are coated in a black lipstick. Her eyelids are colored in a dark purple coating. 

The beat bounces and she bounces with it the crowd below her cheers.

It's definitely erotic. But she also dances in such a way that feels so…freeing. So, carefree. 

Someone hands her a drink, and she swallows it effortlessly before tossing the glass back to the stranger who catches it barely. She rolls her spine along to the rhythm, throwing her head back. Her hair falls through the air like an ocean wave. 

Lucifer is transfixed on her. 

She looks over at him, and their eyes meet for the briefest of moments. Shame rises in him,having been caught staring at her and he immediately looks away. His face burns. Ah what was he doing staring at some random stranger? He’s probably creeping her out. 

Lucifer suddenly feels an arm entrap his shoulders and at first he assumes it's Ozzy. But when he looks up he yelps at the sudden face alarmingly close to him. He backs up, stumbles. It's the woman, and she’s chuckling at his reaction. 

Lucifer catches his breath, she came over to him? Why?

Now that she’s closer though, he can tell she’s taller than him. Not by much but definitely taller. He doesn’t mind it. The base of the music burst to life once again threatening to pierce his eardrums. But it's as if he can feel the hammering beat of the base in his chest, as the woman walks close to him. He’s unsure of what she wants, what she wants to do. He doesn’t even know her name. 

He just can’t help but watch her. 

She moves so freely even just walking towards him. Never letting the music not move her body. She reaches out and grabs his arm and tugs him close. Lucifer for some reason, lets her. His pulse is climbing. It's racing. 

She drags him along and he doesn’t quite know what's going on, just that she shoves him into a nearby chair. And she’s letting the music take over her again. She’s dancing above him, her hands pressed against his shoulders, keeping him pressed into the back of the chair. Once she’s; sure he’s not going to move - how can he, really? - she takes her hands back and cocks her hips in a hypnotizing motion to the thundering beat of the music. Lucifer's eyes are dragged to her hour-glass like figure. Her hands continue moving across her large thighs, up into a dainty curved waist. She tries her hands over her thighs, up over his hips. Lucifer’s eyes follow. Her hands travel inward over her breast over the neckline and they shoot up over her head. 

Lucifer breath hitches in his throat.

            She’s…

“You're beautiful.” 

The woman looks at him, amused and a bit perturbed. She laughs. It’s a glorious sound, it's light and jovial. She leans into his space, placing her hands on either side of his chair. “What was that handsome?” She speaks. God she speaks and her voice is like that of an angel. It's low and silky smooth; it's like a goddess tempting him to do sinful things.

Christ he must be drunker than he thought if just one sentence from a stranger is enough to have his tongue tied.

“I-I said you're beautiful.” He stutters out, making his voice louder. She smiles - it looks like an honest smile. 

“Thank you. You're hot.” She bluntly states. Lucifer turns into a tomato and she laughs again. “And cute. For being Lucifer Morningstar.”

His brows raise, “you know who I am?” The brief instance of his name rather than being referred to as ‘my lord’ throws him off a little. But he doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

“Of course.” She says. “And the rumors were right, you're a lot nicer in person.” 

Lucifer flashes red for a whole other reason now. “What's your name?” He calls over the rising music. 

She looks surprised at the question. “Lilith.” But she leans closer to him, their chests almost pressed together. If he had been more sober the public display of…whatever this was probably would have put him off. But right now? His mind was too focused on the goddess who was now on his lap. 

“You're really pretty Lilith.” He giggled, fuck he is drunk. 

She smirked, eyes lidded.

Without so much as a warning or hint Lilith leans forward and captures Lucifer’s lips in hers. His eyes grow wide. And there’s a part of his mind that tells him it's not a good idea. But he immediately shuts that part down. He’s going to be throwing away his life soon. So he doesn’t care right now. Eve wouldn’t care. They aren’t married yet and it's not like she even likes nor cares about him.

Still his heart races because…

Well as pathetic as it is this is the first time he’d been kissed.

But his brain doesn’t focus on that, because Lilith is a good kisser. She takes control of his lips, abusing them with a practiced pace. She truly is a siren, for she gets his lips apart and slips her tongue in like a serpent. Their tongues wrestle for a moment, and it's a losing fight against the expert that Lilith is. Her tongue tastes like alcohol and it mixes with the sweeter alcohol he had been drinking. It tastes like heaven. 

His fingers twitch and something burns in him. Aching for more.

Lilith pulls back too soon in his opinion. But she doesn’t go far, keeping their faces close. She looks at him then, their faces inches apart. Her eyes look almost gold under the club lights but he thinks they are actually green? He’s not sure. He looks at her, her face is curved, her eyes narrowed and beautiful. Her hair long and waving freely, her dress leaving little to the imagination. But it restates the fact that she is pretty. “Wanna go somewhere private?” 

Lucifer eyes shoot wide open. “Uh-” his face burns and he glances around for his friends. He knows full well what she’s asking. He’s not an idiot after all. But… “I-I dunno. Uh…” He rubs his neck. He peers back at her. She’s waiting, and she’s tilting her head ever so slightly. 

“Don’t be scared.” She cooes, trailing a finger along his chest.

Lucifer frowns and raises a brow, “are you a hooker or something?” He doesn’t mean to sound rude. It's an honest question and one his mind has worked up to after seeing the way she dances around the club. Was this her ploy to get a session out of him? Seeing him as a dollar sign?

Lilith looks offended though, just a bit. “What?” She scoffs, “no. I have more class than those bitches.” She says waving her hand about. She leans back then, hands on her hips. “I just like to have fun!” She says with a wide proud grin.

Lucifer raises his brows, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend. I-I just thought…” he trails off.

Lilith eyes him, standing straight up, above him. Towering over him. The club lights bathe her in a blend of different colors. The white light behind illuminates her figure. “You're hot. I’m not trying to get money out of you. I just think you're hot. I wanna fuck you.” 

She says it so…so bluntly. Lucifer is so taken aback at her boldness. God nobody has ever spoken to him like that. Besides Bee and Ozzy but…not even to this extent. He should be offended..but…

“So you wanna take this somewhere else?” She says, slipping into that sultrier voice once more. She leans down to his level, so she doesn’t have to be so loud. “Wanna see what's under these clothes?” She says, dragging a hand down her dress. 

Lucifer eyes her figure…it's nice but he looks up at her. At her face. At that mischievous sparkle in her eyes. 

How could he be insulted by such a bold, confident and beautiful woman? 

“Sure..” He replied; his voice is dazed and husky. 

They go to a nearby motel and Lucifer isn’t sure if he should be alarmed or surprised that Lilith already has a room in the run down place. With his mind both buzzing from the alcohol and an erection below his belt that was begging for attention, his mind decides he doesn’t care.

…Lucifer is pushed onto the bed. 

Lilith isn’t in any way shy or timid. She’s definitely done this sort of thing before. - Which makes Lucifer feel a bit bothered, but that's a thought for sober him. - She unbuttons his shirt with practiced effort. Their pace isn’t by any means slow. It’s fast and impatient. Which for a drunken aroused Lucifer? Is perfectly fine with him. In minutes she’s unfastening his belt and pulling his pants down before Lucifer can properly enjoy any of it. There is a sliver of his mind that feels embarrassed and nervous. But it's quickly washed away when Lilith strips her dress and undergarments off without any shame. Lucifer is still marveled by her confidence. And in that moment he stares at her like she truly is a goddess kneeling above him. 

“Wow…” He mutters dreamily. 

Lilith smiles and chuckles. It seems to be a genuine laugh. “Shh.” She says, pressing a finger to his lips. “Relax.” He does. “Goodboy.”

Lucifer flushes.

There are no more words spoken between them after that.

  …Lucifer honestly taps out after fifteen minutes, - which Lilith doesn’t seem to mind for she has her ways to get him started again - but the next hour goes by with him in a haze. He doesn’t remember when he falls asleep. But he does with him and Lilith on the hotel bed naked.

When he wakes…he doesn’t remember how he got where he is. Because he’s sitting on a park bench and immediately looks down, to find himself - thankfully - dressed. But he’s dressed more casually, dressed in a way he would prefer. Just a simple button down and slacks. He looks up, seeing a little girl swinging on monkey bars. Her face is blurred for him but he can tell at the very least she’s a child. With long blonde hair. He watches her for a moment and sees her hand begin to slip, he stands ready to go and catch this girl, but someone beats him to it. 

A man who he hadn’t even noticed was there shoots up from his seat and runs to catch the girl just in time. His hair is a bright and noticeable red. But he can’t make out his facial features either. Maybe that's her dad, he assumes at least. The man holds the girl in one of his arms and they share a laugh. They pause and turn to look directly at Lucifer, he still can’t make out their faces. But he can’t deny a blooming warmth flooding his chest. He’s never felt it before but one word cuts through his mind, clear as day.

Happy. 

He suddenly wakes up, his eyes flashing open into the darkness of the room. His heart is hammering and he takes a minute to breathe in. He feels his heart slow, into steady beats. He registers Liliths soft breaths and sighs. 

That was a weird dream. He thinks. 

His attention goes back to the sleeping woman. Lilith.. How beautiful she is. Even sleeping. 

Lucifer waits for her to wake. Maybe he's smitten, or maybe it's because she took his virginity. But he feels waiting is the right thing to do. When Lilith does wake it's almost morning. And Lucifer knows he could get in trouble. But to see her surprised expression when she finds him waiting beside her with some coffee from the motel lobby. It's worth it. 

Lucifer asks to see her again. To keep seeing her. Until he's to be married again. Much to his surprise, she says yes. It's enough to make Lucifer feel light as air. With that agreement he stumbles out of the room, smelling of booze and sex. Looking like it too. But he has no time left and has to get home. 

Lucks on his side because he makes it home before his disappearance is noticed. It's.. Sad, actually. But he's to happy and hungover to care. He calls his friends when he's able to let them know he's safe. They naturally both want details which he would provide. 

Time goes on, Lucifer and Lilith do meet up again. But sparingly. What with still being ordered to spend time with Eve. But what little time he does get to spend with Lilith - undercover - is usually under the cover of night and a blessing. 

Much to Lucifers dismay his snap fantasy life comes to an end. With the day of his wedding creeping up on him like death itself, he has to bid Lilith goodbye. Unsure and unwilling to keep pursuing whatever it is they have under in secret. 

So the day of his wedding comes. With the girl he wished was Lilith. Maybe he's crazy for having that thought. He probably is. But it's a pointless thought nonetheless. He knows his place, and he’s aware that the short time he had with Lilith was nothing more than a break from his reality. So here he stands, before Eve in her white wedding gown. Her face no less changing than the day they’d met. Stoic and calm as usual. So unlike Lilith’s bright and expressive face. He can’t help but compare the two not, even though he shouldn’t. 

The wedding is what would be expected of the morningstars. Its lavish and fancy. Set in a large park well taken care of. A park the rich frequent most often, but today is reserved for this occasion. The guests are not only consisting of Lucifer and Eve’s respective family members. But the other hundred people in the crowd are friends of the morningstars. Friends of his father. Bee and Ozzy are among them. But they aren’t as excited for this wedding like Lucifer’s father is. Excitement is actually…not the right word to describe his father in this circumstance. Eager is a better way to put it. He’s at the front row, sitting beside his mother. His arms are crossed. He has that same impatient look he always has on his face. Like the world is moving too slow for him.

Impatient.

That’s the right word to describe his father.

Lucifer looks back at Eve. He offers her a small smile, unsure why. Maybe to steady his own nerves. She returns the smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“We are gathered here today…” The priest begins. His words sound like he’s speaking underwater, to Lucifer at least. As he goes on Lucifer can’t help but glance at the crowd again, he’s aware that he should be looking forward. But can’t help it with his nerves growing. He sees his twin in the front row too, beside his - eager - mother and he looks jealous. Of Eve? He doubts it. Of him finally proclaiming his position as the new head of the home? Likely. 

He catches Bee and Ozzy in the crowd, and they find his gaze. And both nod to him. It's a condolence. He knows. A sharp clearing of the throat from his father snaps Lucifer back to attention. A warning. 

“Samiel Morningstar. Do you take Eve to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward?” For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

.

Lucifer hesitates, he glances at his father. Who gives him an icy look. He lowers his brows and gives one curt nod. Lucifer swallows, he looks at Eve who as usual is stoic. “I…I do.” He says, stuttering a little. When he glances at his father again he looks annoyed, but satisfied. 

The priest turns to Eve. Repeating himself. 

Lucifer in that moment, takes those final seconds to lament on his life. This…wedding, this ceremony. It doesn’t feel like a celebration of love at all. As it should be. It feels like he is being sentenced to prison and he’s signing away his freedom that he had with those words. 

This is wrong, he thinks solemnly. A wedding should not be held to force two people together. Two people who hardly know each other muchless love each other. Because Lucifer is certain Eve does not love him nor has come to love him in the brief month they had been introduced and then pushed into this wedding. 

He looks at her.

He was naive. He was naive to what a real relationship required. Lilith opened his eyes to that at the very least. While what he and Lilith had was in no way a relationship, it felt far more real than whatever he and Eve were supposed to have. What he did with her, being intimate with her. He…he couldn’t, he couldn’t do that. Not with Eve. Not with someone who didn’t even look at him like he was wanted. Looked at him with that same empty stare his father had. Someone he felt no attraction towards. Lilith was a star that shines and shimmers so brilliantly. Eve was an empty husk of a person she could have been. He knew what was expected of him. But he’s failed to realize how heavy that burden would be until now.

Lucifer looks Eve in the eyes.

How can I ever have children with this woman? How can I ever try to love her? Someone Who looks at me with not an ounce of love or even a person in those eyes? 

A chill runs down his spine.

“I do.” He hears Eve say, and her words for the first time carry an ounce of trepidation. 

Something in him snaps. And he feels like that sliver of fear in her is what pushes him over the edge. 

“Then with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” 

Lucifer's hands curl.

Don’t do it.

You’ll regret it.

He looks at Eve, her eyes hidden behind her veil. She’s defeated. She’s surrendered. 

“I can’t.” His thoughts come out of his mouth far too late for him to take it back. And his eyes blow wide as a gasp rushes over the crowd like a wave. 

Dread pools in Lucifer, it's cold and frozen over. It's icy. 

He hears his father stand from his chair. “You will.” He states. That’s all he says.

Lucifer can feel his throat tightening. He can’t…HE CAN’T GODDAMMIT!

“No!” He shouts looking at his father who looks downright appalled. He’s shocked, registering what his son said to him. 

The crowd is deadly silent. Lucifer feels his heart in his ears. “No?” He repeats like he’s never been told that word. “No?!” He repeats once more like he’s never heard it. “You do what I tell you Samiel!” 

Something boils in Lucifer, in this second he thinks of Lilith. How free she is, how confident she is. He wants to be that confident. He wants to be free. Free with her. “I refuse! I don’t love her! And she doesn't love me! I won’t marry her.” 

His father growls “I gave you an order.” 

Lucifer stares his father down, every ounce of his body is screaming to stop. To get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. But no, not this time. “I refuse.” 

His father takes a step forward, pointing an accusatory finger at Lucifer. He could see the red rising in his cheeks. “You listen to me right now Samiel or you are OUT of this family!” 

Lucifer swallows. He looks at his mother, who is staring at him with a pleading look. At his brother, who seems satisfied. Happy. At his father, the seething man looking his usually well composure at a wedding. Then at Eve.

She’s frowning, she looks…sad. She is looking at the floor. He feels for her, but he can’t free her. Only she can, But he won’t be her captor, and he can’t remain a prisoner himself any longer. He wonders, if his mother wanted him. His brother. If that was a willing choice, or one his father pressed on her. He can’t imagine she did, when he looks at them. 

Lucifer sighs, and says calmly “then I guess I’m done here.” 

Its all he says. As he walks down the aisle, alone. 

Eve is at the alter, a look of pure shock on her face. The strongest display of emotions she’s ever displayed. Lucifer wishes her best, hopes she can break free from her own shackles one day. 

His father is screaming at this point. The angriest he’s ever been with him. He’s swearing, cursing, telling him all the things he is. How broken he is how wrong he is what a failure he is. 

But Lucifer keeps walking. 

He doesn’t even get to say goodbye to his mother, or his brother. But he wishes them best, knowing that with him gone his brother will get his place. Its for the best. He never wanted it in the first place. 

He refuses to live his life as someone he’s not. He refuses to end up like Eve, to become a shell of himself. He can’t do it. He might have, if not for her. 

As he walks the city streets, he slips the ring out of his pocket. The ring meant for Eve, the ring he managed to take before leaving. He’s young, he’s only eighteen. But he’s free, free to make his choices and maybe this is a stupid choice most would argue. But for him, its the only one that feels right.

He walks into the motel, and climbs the stairs to the room he’s memorized. The one she’s been living in. He knocks, and waits. When she opens the door, she is surprised to find him there. “Hi.” She greets, “weren’t you supposed to be getting married?” She asks confused.

Lucifer is still in his white tux. 

He looks at Lilith like she’s something to be worshipped, the smile that breaks onto his face isn’t forced. Isn’t fake. Its never with her. “Wanna do something crazy?” He asks her instead, with a grin threaneing to slip his lips.

She raises her brow. 

Lucifer pulls the ring from his pocket, and he kneels before her. Lilith eyes blow wide. Lucifer simply says with hope in his eyes. “Wanna get married?” 

He’s crazy. He’s known her less than a month, He is absolutely nuts. He knows that. But he also just swore off a lifetime of fortune and his family. But they had never given off the same warmth Lilith had. A stranger. 

Lilith laughs. “Sure, why not.” 

Lucifer grins, she grins. 

They are both insane, surely they both must be insane. Right? 

It doesn’t matter…not to Lucifer. 

All that matters to him is that he’s finally gotten to make his own choice for once. And he chooses Lilith. Maybe there’s a chance at being happy for him afterall. 

[majesticaldiscomfort]

The devil came down for milkshakes

You're working at a small local burger shop in Georgia that sells things like french fries, carbonated drinks, fried chicken, burgers, and milkshakes.

The store owner prides himself on having the thickest shakes in town, and you are the maker of those milkshakes.

You have 6 years of expertise and he pays you decently, which you just can't find in restaurant employment elsewhere.

A young woman, dressed like a modern princess, makes her way to the counter with a handfull of bills for payment, a goose following behind for reasons you don't quite understand.

"What can I get for you?" You ask the woman, eyeing the seemingly obedient goose behind her.

"I'd like the thickest shake this world has to offer, as advertised on this store's window."

You glance at the paint that your boss had re-applied that morning, now advertising "World's Thickest Shakes" instead of "Georgia's thickest shakes."

You want to chastise your boss, but you can't do so immediately. You shake your head, hoping this woman won't be disappointed by the best work you can do.

"Absolutely, what flavor?"

"Chocolate is acceptable."

"Sure thing, that'll be eight, ninety-nine."

You accept her payment, hand her her receipt, and head to the machine to get started on your artistry.

You give it a little extra time and care, to ensure this shake is EXTRA thick, even by your standards.

When you finish, the shake is so thick that even trying to suck it up through a big straw would be a bit difficult.

You bring the shake to the woman, cradling it in your hands as if it were delicate treasure. She eagerly accepts it, and immediately takes a sip.

To your dismay, she puts on a grim expression. She looks you dead in the eye, and for a moment, you could swear she was able to see directly into your soul.

In an abyssally deep voice that somehow gives the impression that she's not from this world at all, she says, "thicker."

No further words, you head back to try again. You do everything you can to make this shake as thick as possible, and only decide to stop when the machine starts giving off smoke.

This shake is so thick that even inserting the straw was difficult, and it took you a few tries to insert one without it snapping somewhere in the middle.

You bring it to the woman, again cradling it, even though you're sure it's so thick that even dropping it wouldn't remove it from the cup.

Once again, she tries to take a sip, but realizes that it won't come up the straw. Her grim expression softens to one of satisfied impression.

She ungloves one of her hands, which has a strange geometric tattoo on the back and, seemingly, up her arm.

She tries to scoop a small amount of the absurdly thick shake with her pinky finger, putting it in her mouth, suddenly lighting up.

"This will do nicely. Satan?"

The goose suddenly alights onto the counter. A long tongue comes out of the goose's mouth to lick the shake off of the woman's finger.

You swear you can see fire behind its eyes, but that wasn't nearly as alarming as when the goose began to speak.

"This shall work eggcelently," it says. "My boys will surely be able to come, now." It sounded like a mafia boss from the 1920s.

The goose stares directly at you, with a power it had been withholding before. "Your work is appreciated. How did you achieve this?"

Not wanting to give the literal devil any more power than it already had, you respond "I could teach you, but I'd have to charge."

The goose shakes its head. "Such is the way of deals. I shall grant protection over this 'state of Georgia' as you call it when I invade your world, and in exchange, you will grant me the knowledge to create these milkshakes myself. Is this acceptable?"

You think for a moment. Your entire family is in Georgia, and even though the people have their ups and downs, you've lived your whole life here. All your memories are here.

But Georgia is small compared to the rest of the world. You have friends in othet states and other countries who would probably suffer. But the devil was looking at you, expectantly, and would probably retaliate if you told it "no."

Suddenly, you smell the telltale smoke of an overheated milkshake machine. One more shake will probably break it beyond repair.

Hiding your glee, you frown at the devil. "Fine, I'll teach you." The devil flaps its goose wings joyously, licking its beak.

You, the woman, and the goose head behind the counter to the milkshake machine. The giddy goose grins, "this machine smells just like home. It must be using the correct magic!"

You show the goose the ingredients, the ratios, and the technique, thickening the shake as much as you can, the devil eagerly observing your movements.

Suddenly, the machine lurches to a halt, metal scraping metal, and you swear you heard something inside the back explode. Smoke fills the restaurant, and panicked patrons pour out the door.

You frown, and pull as hard as you can to remove the world's thickest shake from the cast iron hook that had been stirring it.

"What happened?" Asked the goose.

"Our Earthly machines don't have the capacity to withstand large amounts of hellish magic. This machine has died."

The devil lets out a cry of agony. "No! My boys! I'll never see them again!"

Out of morbid curiosity, you ask it to elaborate.

"I wanted to take my children with me to conquer the Earth. I wanted to show them that they could look up to me. But I barely had enough magic to bring myself here in this goose form, and these two shakes aren't nearly enough to bring them all here!"

Looking the devil dead in the eye, you don't know whether out of your problem-solving habit or your pity for the crying goose, you say, "why not bring them as geese, too?"

It stops for a moment, to ponder.

"...yes, this will be enough to bring them as geese as well. Thank you."

The goose and its servant leave the restaurant.

You grab a can of coca cola from the tall fridge, then head outside of the smoke-filled building to watch the devil waddle away.

Even from a distance, you could see the junkyard full of ancient, rusted cars and heaps of rusted metal on the other side of the field to the side of the restaurant.

You watch as the devil's servant creates an elliptical diagram on a giant sheet of rusty metal using some sort of metallic powder, using the two milkshakes as focal points.

She begins a ritual dance as the metallic powder diagram begins to glow with heat.

A rift opens between the two milkshakes, which start to melt from the surrounding heat, but stay remarkably intact due to their incredible thickness.

Then you see them emerge; 17 goslings, ecstatically flapping to their father. You swear you saw one breathe fire.

Her work done, the servant walks in your direction and sits on the bench next to you, eating what was left of one of the ritual shakes.

"You should be proud of yourself," she tells you. "You're the only one on this planet who has the right to say it."

"To say what?" You ask.

"You're the only person on this whole planet who can truly say, 'my milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard.'"

[janetfraisersmassivestrap]

Hello, I am already in love with with Morgan. I'd love to hear more about her, or know where I could read her story?

Also. In a world where men get their heads cut off and are fine, or grow to be as tall as trees, or hold their breath for nine days, I think we deserve some Mary Sue girlies. As a treat. :)

hiiii I haven't written anything for her (or arthuriana in general) but I have many thoughts that I'll put under a readmore

also you're SO right we do deserve some mary sue girlies. as a treat!!

some jumbled thoughts about morgan:

first off im the world's #1 supporter of arthur/guinevere/lancelot polyamory and also of playing with lancelot's gender, so in my version, lancelot is afab (possibly transmasc or nonbinary, I haven't fully decided) but presents as male so only a few people (arthur, guinevere, the lady of the lake (who raised him, let him dress masc and get trained as a knight, etc), maybe one or two others) know that he's not a cis man. also while arthur/guinevere/lancelot is very much a thing, they have to keep it secret, and there's still rumors that lancelot is sleeping with the queen (he is. he's also sleeping with the king. usually at the same time).

so at one point lancelot gets pregnant with arthur's child and they have problems because:

they can't exactly announce that their best knight is going on maternity leave

they want to acknowledge the baby as one of arthur's children

so the solution is to send lancelot "on a quest" where he just goes back to....the lady of the lake?? probably?? and chills with her for a while until he has baby morgan and he then secretly sends her to camelot

at the same time, guinevere fakes a pregnancy, and there's a bunch of rumors that lancelot is the father because of his conveniently timed "quest"

so when baby morgan arrives, arthur announces the baby to the court and the nobles/castle staff/etc are all clambering to see the baby to figure out if lancelot is the father. they all take one look and are like "oh. that's definitely arthur's child" (either through facial features, or im also thinking arthur and morgan have darker skin while both guinevere and lancelot have lighter skin) and some of them are a bit disappointed because they wanted to keep spreading rumors

morgan grows up in the castle and is friends with other nobles' kids, and she's jealous when the boys her age start to get knight training, so she watches the training from her window and tries to teach herself. when she's like 10, one of her friends' (still working on a name, calling her V for now) father (a knight?) dies (V's mother also died several years prior) and she's left destitute, but morgan sneaks her into the castle and hides her in her room and sneaks her food. (morgan's nanny catches on pretty quickly but doesn't say anything, she just makes sure there's always extra food left out in the room and plenty of clothes and toys)

by the time she's like 12, mordred can very clearly tell that his little sister is arthur's favorite and could pose a threat to his guaranteed succession to the throne, so he tries to kill her (poison?? maybe with the help of morgana or morgause?? or an "accident" when she's horseback riding??) and she's very sick for a few weeks. arthur strongly suspects it was mordred, but he doesn't have any evidence so he can't do anything about it.

to keep her safe, arthur decides to send her to a convent. she's upset about this and throws a fit because she doesn't realize she was poisoned, she just thinks she's being punished. she also realizes that she can't keep taking care of V if she's not living in the castle, so they hatch a Scheme™

when the knights come to escort morgan to the convent, she comes out of her room all ready to go with her hood pulled over her face and she's acting very pouty. the knights are all like "ugh why did we have to get stuck escorting the bratty princess" so they don't interact with her much, they just try to get this over with as soon as possible. they take her to the convent and introduce her to the nuns and get out of there. the nuns have never seen the princess so they don't realize that they're raising V instead of morgan

meanwhile morgan runs away, disguised as a boy, and starts training to be a knight for several years (possibly with the help of the lady of the lake)

after four years or so, arthur and guinevere send for morgan to come back to camelot to have a role in the court. when V shows up pretending to be morgan, no one knows the difference because they haven't seen her in four years and she looks close enough. V continues to live at court for several years doing princess things

eventually, lancelot and guinevere get caught, lancelot escapes, and guinevere is sentenced to be burnt at the stake. mordred knows lancelot is going to mount a rescue, so he plants a trap on the outskirts of camelot and captures him. being the dramatic Bitch™ that he is, he waits until the last minute (when they're leading guinevere to the stake) to tell arthur.

(I have this scene so clearly in my head. arthur is staring out the window at guinevere, he doesn't even turn when the big doors slam open, only looks when mordred begins speaking to him and tells him he has good news. his goons lead in a chained up knight with a bag over his head and force him onto his knees, then mordred says something like "I have captured the traitor knight" and pulls the bag off lancelot's head. lancelot and arthur lock eyes and lancelot is very clearly apologizing for failing while arthur just looks heartbroken, because not only does he have to watch guinevere burn now with no hope of her being rescued, but he'll also have to sentence the man he loves to death as well. arthur's forced to let the execution proceed and at the very last moment an army storms the square and a mysterious knight rescues guinevere and rides off with her. arthur and lancelot and relieved but also extremely confused because the knight's insignia is unfamiliar, and they have no idea what he intends to do with guinevere.)

surprise, the mysterious knight is morgan! she sends her army off to keep guinevere safe and goes to camelot under a flag of truce. she gets taken to arthur, but still wearing full armor with her visor down so no one knows who she is. she goes up to mordred and throws her glove down to challenge him to a duel to the death, claiming that he tried to kill her years ago. he doesn't deny it, saying he's tried to kill lots of people. they fight, she wins, while she has her sword to his throat she demands he withdraw the accusations against the queen and lancelot. he does, so she lets him live, but now lancelot and guinevere are free and can return to camelot.

morgan turns to arthur and pledges her loyalty and asks to be a knight of the round table, and he's so grateful that lancelot and guinevere are safe that he accepts. he asks her to stand and asks her name and to remove her helmet. she reveals that she's princess morgan, which V confirms (maybe morgan also shows a distinctive birthmark or something to further prove her identity)

yay! everyone's happy! morgan gets to be a knight and also be princess and also gets gay married to V.

I'm thinking also maybe redemption arc for mordred where he comes around to caring for morgan, maybe throws himself in front of a sword for her and tells her she'll be a good queen or smth as his last words