#and it looked like my cat had been complaining while I couldn’t hear him too

[jewishbarbies]

pretty sure whoever i keep interacting with in my room purposely got my attention while i had headphones on and my back was turned just so I could fill up the food dish bc my cat was upset it was empty.

[vanesycho]

Can i request a jealous Park Jisung please? Like he's so subtle but you notice his jealousy and end up with smut maybe? 🥺🥺

thank you very much to the person who wrote the request, I hope I was able to write something like you wanted, enjoyy🤍🤍

Warning:Smut, a little fingering, p in v

wc:1,5k

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Jisung swallowed hard as he watched you fill the cafe with laughter.You were joking around with Jaemin and keeping in touch, and of course that was okay.On the contrary, he liked how you behaved so well with his friends, even the people he called 'brothers' but today he was definitely not in a mood to like it. His eyes immediately fell on Jaemin’s hand on your shoulder, so caught up in how close the two of you were that he didn’t even notice Chenle calling out to him. "From Earth to Jisung? Hellooo?"

Everyone at the table looked at Chenle as he started yelling louder, you stopped talking to Jaemin and looked at him.When Jisung noticed this, he complained to Chenle. "You didn't have to shout so loud." Chenle rolled his eyes and leaned back as he spoke "Oh, really? Because you've been ignoring me for the last 3 minute. Did you forget about me while watching your girlfriend?"

You had heard what Chenle said and you chuckled at that, he turned his head away when he heard your laugh, he didn't want you to find out that he was jealous or anything, he thought it was embarrassing. I mean, for God's sake, he introduced you to his friends and now he can't act like this. After a while, everyone returned to their old ways, trying to distract himself by joining the conversation and tried not to think about it. "Hey have you seen my cat, Y/n?"

What was this now? You were all talking together, why was he contacting you privately again? He took out his phone and saw him approaching you, he let out a deep breath as you also moved closer to look at the screen. Tried to take his eyes off you, thinking it would be okay if he didn't look at you, but he could still hear your voice. "Aww this is so cute Jaemin, I should definitely see it in real life one day. Looks so cute, look at those feathers."

He couldn’t say anything, he tried not to make it obvious and the day just went by, he heard your laughter with Jaemin all day long...

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"Jisung! Wait!" You shouted after him, he turned around and looked at how far behind you were, he waited for you and when you came to him, you spoke out of breath. "Why didn't you wait for me? When I turned around, I saw that you were already gone."

He spoke in his usual calm tone "I didn't realize it, I was a little distracted." You held his hand as you continued walking down the road, normally he would do this all the time but not this time. Okay, so Jisung wasn't much of a PDA person but he liked holding hands anyway. "I noticed that, are you okay? I didn't want to ask you in front of everyone, I thought you might want to talk privately." He just shook his head in the negative and mumbled "I'm fine."

You didn't press him too much, if there was a problem he would definitely not hesitate to talk to you and you waited for the right time for him to talk.

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When you got home, you quickly put on some comfortable clothes and threw yourself into bed, groaning in exhaustion.Jisung entered the room and you giggled as he laid down on top of you. He buried his head in your neck and kissed, then another, and another. You pushed him away from his shoulders, laughing as your neck got ticklish from it. "Hey you know that tickles."

He didn't answer, looked at you with tired eyes for a while and buried his lips in yours, you responded immediately, sucking your lower lip lazily and you moaned involuntarily at the softness and warmth of his lips. He spread your legs and made you move into a more comfortable position, you realized how much you missed his touch when he started caressing your leg with one hand, starting from your hip. But his hands went to your clothes, you stopped him as he was about to take off. "Jisung- wait. Aren't you moving a little fast?"

He immediately took his hands off you and looked into your eyes with momentary fear. "Oh I'm sorry I just- I don't know." He pulled back and you sat up and held his hands, kissing his lips to calm him down. "Hey hey that's okay, hm? You're a little weird today, I was expecting you to talk about it but you didn't, are you going to talk about it now?"

When he didn't respond you let out a deep breath, one of your hands went to his cheek and started caressing it. “Is it because of my closeness with Jaemin?” He looked at you in surprise, you smiled a little at his expression. "I'm not stupid Jisung, yeah I noticed. I was actually waiting for you to talk to me about this."

He bowed his head, as if he wasn't already embarrassed by this situation, you had already noticed it. Grabbed his chin and made him look at you, you didn't like it when he looked away from you. "There's no shame in that, baby. It's so natural to be jealous. But I just want you to never forget that I love you okay?"

He nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly as he spoke into your ear. "I know, I don't know what's happening to me today, normally this would never be a problem." you giggled and pulled back, kissing his lips, pushing him slightly so he could lie down on the bed as Jisung melted into the kiss.

You spoke in between as you lowered your wet kisses to his neck. "So I haven't been able to give my baby enough attention lately, if you let me...?" You raised your head and looked at him with questioning eyes. While he was looking at you with hunger, he quickly changed position and got on top of you. You looked at him without understanding what was happening. "I want to do it."

You couldn't help but laugh at his eagerness and helped him take off your extra clothes, feeling each other's naked bodies reminding you of how much you missed him again. He spread your legs and easily inserted a finger into your already wet pussy, you held your breath for a moment "Jisung.." He listened to how his name came out of your mouth with such desire, he came closer and started to move his finger slowly inside you while kissing your breasts. You closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to Jisung and pleasure, you started to caress his hair with your hand, his finger continuing to move in and out of your walls.

You whimpered as he pulled his finger out. Licked his finger and soon he got closer and sucked your lower lip for a long time. When he pulled back he whispered against your lips, "I love you." Just as you were about to answer, he thrust his dick inside you without even warning, and you could only moan loudly as you opened your mouth to say the sentence. He silently cursed how tight you were, even his long cock only halfway inside you.

He buried his head in your neck, his moans starting to get muffled, wrapped your legs around his waist and made your hips lift up slightly. Filled the rest of his cock completely inside of you. "F-fuck Jisung...This is too m-much.." He didn't listen to you, too focused on his own pleasure. "Sorry..you feel t-too good." He started moving inside you, his cock filling your pussy completely was at a point where it would drive you both crazy.

At first, with his slow movements, he whispered sweet words into your ear, how much he loved you and how beautiful you looked underneath him...

But when his cock reached your pleasure point, you moaned his name loudly, "Please faster, please.." He didn't hesitate, he sped up his hips, and when his cock started pounding your pussy fast, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

He pulled his head back from your neck and watched you, watched how you moaned for him and engraved it in his mind, one by one. You were his and you would always be his, no matter who you were close to, no matter who he was jealous of, it didn't matter, he was the one you loved and you were the one he loved.

He groaned as he looked at your sweaty face and slightly open eyes, and as his hips accelerated even faster, he watched how you opened your mouth to moaned his name "Fuck.." he mumbled under his breath and grabbed one of your hands, intertwining your fingers.

"Don't stop- fuck, I'm so close" You whimpered in pleasure. He didn't stop his movements, occasionally placing kisses on your cheek and neck. He could feel you getting closer as he filled your pussy with his cock with dominance.

Your body went limp as you moaned incessantly, he shamelessly watching the juices flowing from your pussy down Jisung’s cock. He pulled his cock out of you and cummed on your stomach, fluids starting to slide between your legs.

He threw himself next to you tiredly and looked at you, you came closer and laid your head on his chest. Lifted your head and gave him a kiss before burying your head back into his chest. "I love you too."

[forest-hashira]

Lucky Shot

I'M BACK AGAIN i have just been on a roll with writing lately but you know what? i'm not complaining lol. anyways, this is my second entry to @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! you can find my first entry here, but be sure to keep an eye on the masterlist for the other entries!!! this is the first time i've written solo suguru/reader so. be nice to me pls. also plese check out this art by @/diosaurr! i had already started writing this fic when they posted it, but three separate people tagged me in it knowing i was writing the fic so i want everyone else to see it, too!

read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.7k | cw: fem! reader (i know who am i???), outlaw!suguru, saloon girl!reader, gun violence, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of death. if those things will upset you i suggest you give this one a pass!

Maybe you should have listened to your father after all.

He’d told you countless times that traveling west, especially without a family or close group to help you out and keep your best interests at heart, would be difficult at best and dangerous at worst. Especially for a young unmarried woman such as yourself. 

But you had always been headstrong and stubborn, and your father had always been a worrier, so you assumed he was exaggerating to discourage you, his eldest daughter, from following your dream and going out west. You secretly saved up money for months, and at the first given opportunity to leave your family and head west, you’d taken it, leaving only a goodbye note for your parents and younger siblings when you slipped from the house in the early hours of the morning. 

Turns out, your father wasn’t exaggerating. Joining a party as a solo traveler had proven even more difficult and dangerous than you could have anticipated. You managed to make it out west, just like you wanted, but you had no money to your name, only the clothes on your back and two other outfits in a bag as you walked through the town, wandering from business to business, asking for work; you’d nearly wept with relief when the saloon owner said you looked like you could have some potential as a saloon girl, after you cleaned up. 

He’d provided you a boarding room above the saloon and a new outfit – the ones you had weren’t up to his standards – up front, and while you appreciated it, you also knew he’d be taking that out of your pay until he decided those things were covered, which you could only guess would be never.

Despite the strings that came attached to your new job, things weren’t all bad. You got to know people in the town pretty quickly – the ones that frequented the saloon, anyways – and you were always in the loop about local “news”, most of which was just gossip. 

One character of particular interest in the local gossip was a man named Geto Suguru. When you’d asked what was so interesting about him, you’d gotten some questioning looks, until you’d said you had only just recently moved out west. After you were shown his wanted poster, though, you began to understand. 

He was one of the most – if not the most – attractive man you’d ever seen. Dark hair that fell past his shoulders; thin, almost cat-like eyes; and even in the poster, there was a sly look on his face. 

Not only that, but he was wanted for robbing stagecoaches, stealing money and jewelry from rich people who gave into his – apparently – intimidating presence. He was also known for spending that money generously in towns all over the west supporting local businesses; plenty of women from across the state also bragged about the jewelry he would gift them, simply because he thought it looked good on them. 

After spending weeks hearing stories – that you were certain had to be at least a little exaggerated – about this pretty outlaw and staring at his wanted poster, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never see him with your own eyes. 

So you couldn’t have been more surprised when you watched the man himself walk into your saloon without any sort of fanfare or dramatics and sit at the bar. 

You stared at him, eyes wide, until he gave you a small smile. 

“I’ve heard you’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth open too long,” he said, smooth voice lilting with amusement. 

Realizing he meant you, you quickly snapped your mouth shut, your whole face burning with embarrassment. “You try meeting a living legend when you’ve only lived in the area for a couple months, see how you react,” you snapped back. When you realized what you’d said, you opened your mouth to apologize, but stopped when you saw the way his eyes sparkled with interest, one perfect brow arched in your direction.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled. “I think I like you already, new girl.”

“What do you want to drink?” You turned away from him to grab a glass, hoping he didn’t pick up on how flustered you were over the nickname. 

“Surprise me.”

You straightened at that, and now it was your turn to arch a brow as you looked him over. His expression never wavered, his head tilted slightly as he waited to see what you decided to serve him. 

With a quiet huff, you turned your back to him, looking over your selection of liquors. Part of you wanted to serve him the cheapest, nastiest drink you carried, just to see if he would actually drink it or demand another drink, but ultimately you decided against it. Instead, you reached for the top shelf, grabbing the unopened bottle of some fancy imported scotch your boss had just gotten in a couple days before. 

“Opening a bottle just for me?” Geto asked, still with that playful tone. “Well now I feel special.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you threatened, turning as if to put the bottle back in its place. 

He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and you set the bottle down on the bar to grab a glass, though you took a brief moment to admire how strong even just his hands looked. 

Setting the glass in front of him, you broke the seal on the bottle, then intentionally poured him about three times as much of the amber liquid as you were supposed to. Your boss could yell at you about it later. 

Geto lifted the glass, tipping it towards you slightly in thanks, before taking a sip.

Just as you were about to speak to the outlaw in front of you again, the saloon doors swung open in your peripheral vision, and you looked up to see the sheriff walking towards the bar.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” you greeted him, glancing briefly at Geto to see what his reaction was, and you were only a little surprised that he had no reaction at all. “Your usual?”

The sheriff tipped his hat to you, sitting down at the opposite end of the bar from the bandit. “Please and thank you.”

With a nod, you placed the bottle of scotch on the counter behind the bar, then grabbed another glass and the brand of whiskey the sheriff always drank. You walked down the length of the bar, setting the glass in front of him and pouring his drink – the expected amount of liquor for him, unlike the bandit down the bar – before you walked away to put the bottle back. 

You felt hyper-aware of the two customers at the bar, worried that any second now the sheriff would recognize the outlaw and all hell would break loose, especially when the other patrons at the tables in the building were always itching for some sort of fight, just because they thought it was entertaining. 

In the end, though, it wasn’t the sheriff that recognized Geto, it was another customer that walked up to the bar to get another drink.

“You look familiar,” the man drawled, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed Geto’s face as best as his intoxicated mind could manage. 

“I get that a lot,” the outlaw answered evenly, not sparing the man a second glance.

“No, I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before…” he trailed off, scowling, his gaze wandering until it landed on the handful of wanted posters hung on the wall beside the bar. His eyes lit up with recognition, and you swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“You’re that stagecoach robber!” the man exclaimed, turning back to Geto; out of the corner of your eye you saw the sheriff turn to face the commotion.

Shit, this is bad, you thought, placing the man’s beer on the bar in front of him, though he was far beyond caring about the drink anymore.

“I’m pretty sure you have no proof of that.”

“That’s your face on the poster,” the man insisted, then turned his attention to you. “Don’t you think?” 

“It looks like it could be a lot of people,” you replied lamely, grimacing at how obvious of a lie it was.

The man scowled at you. “Shoulda known better than t’ask a whore,” he spat, slurring his words a bit. “Whores always lie.”

Almost before he finished speaking, Geto grabbed the man’s collar and slammed his face down onto the bar. “Apologize to her,” he said, voice calm but eyes sharp with anger. 

You blinked in surprise at what had just happened, and once you processed what had been said to you, you found that you were quite offended, and also quite pleased that this outlaw had taken up for you so quickly. 

“Like hell!” the man protested, struggling against Geto’s hold. Even with his head forcibly pressed to the bar top, though, the man managed to pull his gun from his holster. 

The scene before you seemed to slow impossibly for a moment: the sound of the gun cocking, seeing it aimed at Geto, the man’s finger going for the trigger. Then suddenly everything was back to normal speed, and the outlaw used his free hand to shove the gun to no longer be aimed at him just as the trigger was pulled. 

You turned your head to see where it landed, and you watched in horror as a wound burst into existence in the sheriff’s shoulder, blood soaking into his shirt in an instant. He let out a shout of pain, clutching at the wound with his hand.

“You rat bastard!” the man shouted, working to cock his gun and aim it at Geto again, but the outlaw was quicker, pulling out his own gun, pressing it to the man’s ribs, and shooting him almost before you could process what he was doing. 

There was a wet gasping sound from the man, and when Geto’s hold on his collar was finally released, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his gun sliding out of his hand. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet or not, but he certainly wasn’t making any effort to get off the floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sheriff draw his own gun and aim it, but it was in his non-dominant hand, so the bullet did not hit the robber as the sheriff intended; instead, it shattered the whiskey glass on the bar in front of you, and you dropped to the ground in fear.

With your hands over your head, you kept as low as you could. You couldn’t see what was happening anymore, but from what you could hear, at least half of the other patrons of the saloon had joined in the gunfight. Stray bullets hit the wall behind the bar, shattering multiple bottles of liquor, including the fancy bottle of scotch. My boss is going to be so pissed, you thought, an oddly practical thought to have in the midst of hiding and praying you weren’t accidentally shot.

Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, a bullet tore through the front of the bar, sticking in the cabinet about six inches from your head. With a shriek, you scrambled aside, towards the end of the bar; maybe if you were lucky, there would be time for you to slip out of the building without being caught in the crossfire. 

You scanned the building as quickly as you could while keeping yourself hidden, not wanting to make yourself any more of a target than you already were. Bullets were still flying, leaving no chance for your escape, and you cursed under your breath; you were going to be stuck here until everyone ran out of ammo. 

As you looked around, you noticed the first man that Geto had shot, a pool of blood slowly growing beneath his torso. His chest still rose and fell slightly, but his eyes were glassy; he was alive, but he was not long for this world. Suddenly, you remembered that he had dropped his gun when he had fallen, and you scanned the area around him for it, finding it a foot or so from his outstretched hand.

Deciding to run the risk of getting shot, you lunged for it, gripping it tightly in your hand once it was in your grasp. You’d never held a gun in your life, much less shot one, but having this one in your possession made you feel a little less cornered, a little less helpless.

Daring a glance upward, you saw that Geto had turned so that his back was to you and another corner of the saloon. Another patron had somehow managed to sneak around into the outlaw’s blind spot, and was clearly gearing up to shoot him in the back of the head. Knowing you couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen, you fumbled with the gun, your sweaty hands failing to pull back the hammer twice before you succeeded. With no clue how to accurately aim the weapon, you pointed it at his leg, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulled the trigger.

A shout of pain a moment later indicated that you had hit… someone, and you quickly opened your eyes again to make sure you hadn’t somehow hit Geto by accident. Thankfully, you hadn’t. The man you’d been aiming at had taken the shot to his knee – which actually had been what you were hoping to hit when you fired – bringing him down to the floor on one knee.

The shout was enough to alert the outlaw to the threat behind him, and he wasted no time spinning around and drilling him between the eyes. He slipped his guns – you saw now that he had two, rather than one like you had first thought – back into their holsters as the last man’s body dropped to the floor.

Once there was no longer another person blocking you from his view, Geto blinked in surprise, smiling as he stepped over the body and crouched down in front of you.

“You shot him?” he asked, his eyes glinting. The sight made you realize you’d been wrong before, when you’d thought his eyes were catlike in his wanted poster; in person they were foxlike, sharp and intelligent and clever.

“I-I, uh… yeah, I shot him.”

“Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“Not until just now.”

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the bulletwound squarely in the side of the man’s knee. “You’re a good shot,” he observed, turning back to face you.

“Uh… thanks?”

He chuckled then, a low, smooth sound that made your stomach cartwheel. “You’re welcome.” A beat passed, then another, as he examined your face, though you were unsure what he was looking for. 

“What?” you demanded, scowling at him despite the way your hands were still shaking.

“You should come with me.”

“Huh?”

“You should come with me,” Geto repeated easily. “I think you’d be a good addition to my crew. Besides, it really won’t be a good look for you if people come in and see you here with a gun after I get the hell out of here.” There was a slight smirk tugging at his lips, and despite the fact that you probably should have taken his words as a threat, you didn’t.

“What the hell,” you sighed. “It’s not like I have anyone keeping me here.”

“Wonderful,” he said, offering you a hand up off the floor, which you readily accepted. “Get what you need from your room and meet me outside. Be quick, my guess is that someone will come to investigate all the noise sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, brushing broken glass from your dress and your hair as you hurried towards the stairs, unable to hide the grin tugging at your own lips.

Maybe not listening to your father had been the right decision after all.

tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme

[vampire-cupid]

Day 18: By the Fire

Finally some Sam love again :3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

The whole day everyone around you was screaming.

Emily screamed at Mike because she caught him stare at Jess’ ass and Mike got mad at Josh since he lost in Mario Kart.

Jess couldn’t find her favorite shirt and instead of thinking that she might have simply forgot to pack it, insists that one of the others stole it.

There was more but you were too tired to think about all the drama.

You could still hear someone bickering in the kitchen as you let yourself fall down on the couch, you head landing softly in Sam’s lap.

Without looking away from her book, her free began to brush through your hair, massaging your scalp.

A relaxed sigh left you lips and you finally could blend out the noises from your friend group.

Your gaze wanders towards the fireplace, watching as the flames danced.

You already felt your eyes begin to close as Sam kept petting your head.

But the peace didn’t last for long as Matt stormed past you two, complaining about something. Behind him stomped Ashley, also mad at….something.

Honestly, if they wouldn’t already argue the whole day, no, the whole WEEK, you all have been here, you would care. But you reached your limit of playing mediator for adults who acted like toddlers.

All you wanted to do was spend some cozy time with your girlfriend.

Suddenly, a blanket was laid over you, covering you completely.

Opening your eyes to glance at Sam, you found her smiling down at you, tucking you in and once again returning to her book while her free hand went back to your hair.

You had no doubt that if you were a cat, you would purr under her touch.

The fire cracked softly and the flames spread light over the room, making it look cozy.

The added warm from the blanket once again lulling you to sleep.

“Can we stay like this forever?” you ask, earning a giggle from Sam.

“I wish.” she answered softly.

Barely a minute passed until Emily screamed at someone in the kitchen, the sound loud enough that you could hear every word.

But you didn’t want to care about her problems now.

Turning over, you face Sam’s stomach, snuggling into her soft sweater.

“Ssh, just ignore them.” Sam whispered softly.

After a few seconds of silence, you could hear Sam start to hum, the sound finally enough to make you fall asleep deep enough that the noise from the others didn’t bother you anymore.

Sam kept her eyes on you, smiling as her book was forgotten.

“Sleep well my love.” she whispers, returning to her soft humming to keep you in your peaceful slumber.

[writeforfandoms]

Shatter Me 16

Find the series masterlist

Mech continues to go through it. Hee hee. Remember when I said S2 divergent? Well... 😈

Warnings: Swearing, panic, canon-typical violence, canon events, mild panic attack, brain fog.

Word count: 1.7k

There was a boom and a rumble, not enough to knock you off your feet but enough to make the ground shake a little. That… couldn’t be good. 

But you also couldn’t see, not from your vantage point. You swore softly, biting your lip.

Stay here and wait for Mando, or make your way down to him? There didn’t seem to be as much of a direct need to go down there, now that the threat had been eliminated. With prejudice, even. But… you were feeling a bit exposed up here, especially with the kid unconscious in your arms. You’d feel better if the both of you were back with Mando. 

With that thought in mind, you carefully started making your way down the hill. It was slow going, since there were a lot of rocks and you only had one hand to help balance with, but it wasn’t actually hard. You were just acutely aware of your cargo. 

A sound like engines caught your attention, and you looked up. Four things were headed towards you, too small to be any kind of ship. But probably bad news. Your heart hammered in your chest as you moved faster. 

Grogu stirred in your arms with a soft whine, just as the first thing landed in front of you. It looked like a droid, sort of. A battle droid of some kind, taller than Mando and all black. And really menacing. You took a step back, but a second landed to your left. Another behind you. Another to your right. 

You were surrounded. 

One of them stepped closer and grabbed the child while a second grabbed the back of your top, hauling you away like you were no more than an errant loth-cat. 

“No!” You kicked back at the droid, your foot connecting sharply with hard metal. The droid, of course, didn’t even notice. Grogu whined again, big eyes widening and focusing on you.

And then the droid threw you. 

Somehow, by sheer luck, you landed on a clear patch of dirt, rolling a few times before you came to a halt. Pain burst across your hip, your shoulder, your elbow. But you ignored it, scrambling to your feet just to see the droids flying away with Grogu. 

A glint caught your eye - Mando. Not far from you. He was looking around, then looking up. You had no idea if he’d seen you or not. And you didn’t really care, didn’t care if he looked at you.

“Mando,” you called, loud as you could manage, despite the dust in your mouth and the aches doing their best to make you pay attention to your body. “They have him, they have Grogu.” 

Mando looked over his shoulder at you briefly before he looked at the woman next to him. The woman you had frankly just noticed. She stood with the kind of easy grace of a hunter, dark hair braided with orange thread that caught your attention. She spoke into a communicator, just quietly enough that you couldn’t hear what she said. 

At least, not until you limped closer. 

“This isn’t a spice dream,” someone on the other end of the communicator was saying, voice low and gravelly. “I’m seeing this with my own eyes.” 

The two both stared up at the cloud cover, and you wearily lifted your gaze too. Not that you could see anything. So you gave up and limped over to retrieve your blaster, feeling oddly… numb. Oh, sure, you still ached abominably but there was nothing to be done about that now. 

“Fett will land by where your ship was,” the woman said, presumably speaking to Mando. 

Which. Wait. What? “What?” 

Mando sighed, shoulders drooping. He looked… tired. Defeated. It was a weird look for him, and you didn’t like it. It made something clench in your stomach. “Let’s go.” 

You followed the two of them carefully, grimacing as your knee started complaining too. 

“What happened?” Mando asked, half way down the hill. He was still ahead of you, looking back briefly over his shoulder at you. 

“The, uh. The droids…” You had to pause to swallow. “One of them tossed me, is all.” 

He nodded, and that seemed to be that. 

Except then you spotted where the ship was. Or. Where the ship should have been. There was a big dark scorch on the ground, and nothing else left. 

“What.” This time, you were too… blank, too something, to even make it a question. 

But neither of them actually answered you. The woman moved off to the side, closer to where a ship was rotating to land (and the sound of some of those hydraulics made your fingers itch, made you want to swear) while Mando started looking through what was apparently left of the Razor Crest. 

You stood off to the side, aching and blank and dry-eyed. Whatever had destroyed the Crest had definitely destroyed your stuff too. Not that you’d had all that much on the ship to begin with. But. You watched Mando pick through the remains with an odd sort of detachment. 

Oddly enough, the first thing that made it through the fog in your head was outrage. You’d spent hours on that ship! She’d been as close to perfect as could be expected of a ship that age. 

A moment later you found yourself on your ass in the dirt. You blinked. When had that happened? But nobody looked at you, so. You must have done it quietly, at least. 

Okay, maybe you’d stay here and rest for a minute. 

 You watched Mando pull the spear up out of the grit, unharmed. Huh. Well, at least that was something. He stood for a moment longer before he turned and walked up out of the crater, although he paused next to you, helmet tilted down at you.

“I’m fine,” you said before he could ask. 

Silently, he held out a hand, glove still marred with ash. You blinked, feeling like your brain was lagging. Then you took his hand and let him help you to your feet. You swayed a little, hip briefly threatening to give out again, and his grip tightened on you to hold you steady.

“I’m fine,” you whispered again, looking down, something like shame crawling hot up the back of your neck.

But Mando didn’t release you and didn’t step away. “We’ll get him back,” was all he said, soft and sure and collected. But not calm. Not quite. You could hear the fury banked in his voice. 

Still. Something in you eased, and you walked with him over to the other two. “This is all that survived,” he told them, planting the spear in the ground next to him. 

“Beskar,” the man murmured. This close, and with his helmet gone, you could see the scarring across his skin. And the armor… You recognized it as the armor Mando had come back from the desert with. You had no idea who he was, who either of them were, but Mando was treating them as allies. “I want you to see something.” The man lifted his arm and pressed a button on a vambrance, bringing up a chain code. “My chain code has been encoded in this armor for twenty five years. You see, this is me. Boba Fett. This is my father, Jango Fett.” 

Boba Fett. That sounded… vaguely familiar. Maybe if this fog in your brain would let you focus for more than two seconds at a time, you could figure out why. 

“Your father was a foundling,” Mando observed. 

“Yes.” Boba Fett turned off the display and lowered his arm. “He even fought in the Mandalorian civil wars.” 

“Then that armor belongs to you.” Mando shifted his weight, helmet dipping once in a brief nod.

“I appreciate its return.” Boba Fett kept his attention on Mando. 

“Then our deal is complete.” 

You were really feeling out of the loop now. Deal? What deal? 

“Not quite,” Fett responded, jolting you back out of your brain. 

“How so?” Mando didn’t give anything away, but you thought he tensed. Just a little. 

“We agreed, in exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the child.”

“The child’s gone.” Mando couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice for that. His voice was so… flat. Not like when he’d reassured you. 

“Until he is returned to you safely, we are in your debt.”

You blinked wide eyes at the two of them, watching as the woman inclined her head in agreement. 

And apparently that was that. Mando breathed out so softly you wouldn’t have heard him if you weren’t standing right next to him, and nodded once. “I know some people who will help.” 

Boba Fett nodded and turned, leading the way back to his ship. Mando fell into step after him. 

And you? You lingered, just for a moment. Looked back over your shoulder once at the crater and the ash and the broken pieces. 

“Not going to look for yourself?” The woman’s voice was softer than you had expected, a little sympathetic. 

“No point.” You mustered up a smile, though you think it was more wry than real. “It’s fine.” 

She nodded slowly, walking next to you. “Fennec Shand.”

You blinked at her before you caught up, and then gave her your name in turn. The two of you were quiet as you stepped over rocks towards the other ship. You had to pause for a moment, grimacing as you flexed your fingers. It was a unique ship, the likes of which you hadn’t seen before. 

You could almost feel curious about it. Almost. 

Then you followed Shand up and into the ship. 

And promptly found a place to sit. You didn’t need to be up in the cockpit, didn’t need to be part of the planning team. Honestly, you were pretty sure you couldn’t be part of the planning even if you wanted to. Your brain was still lagging behind, the fog still holding you separate from everything. 

The engines whined a little as the ship lifted off. Idly, you thought about looking at them. You thought about finding some tools. You thought about asking Fett if he had tools you could use to look at the engines. And the hydraulics. 

You did none of those, sitting and staring at the wall across from you until the world faded.

[selfinserttothestars]

I apparently wrote this on July 4th of last year. It’s almost been a full year since I started playing Twisted Wonderland and that’s wild to me. I just live here now lmao anyway here’s wonderwall—

•

It was unusual for her not to leave her last class of the day without at least Deuce by her side but there was some important Heartslabyul meeting that he and Ace had to attend. They couldn’t be late and Chris was understanding of this. Riddle would have their heads if he was in a bad enough mood, and no one wanted to risk anymore of that. Jack had a different class than the trio for their last period, so Chris was walking on her own. The hallway wasn’t complete empty as there were students sprinkled around here and there minding their business, but it was much less crowded than it was throughout the day. Chris hummed a tune as she carried what had been dubbed “the bubble” on her back. It was just a cat carrier for Grim to sit in, but calling it “the bubble” was much funnier. Grim would normally complain about the bubble and just how humiliating it was for a “great mage” to be carried around in such a thing, but today he was quiet. Chris had to keep him awake until the final bell but once he was free to rest he didn’t hesitate. Grim slept peacefully to the muffled sounds of Chris’s tune and the gentle sway of her paces. It was nice for both of them. Chris was slow to walk down a set of stairs so not to disturb the sleepy creature and jostle him awake, but each step made her lag behind most of her schoolmates. Eventually everyone seemed far enough away that she felt safe enough to bring her humming to quiet singing. Someone would have to be fairly close to hear her words.

”Cruel and cold like winds on the sea,

Will you ever return to me?”

Since her latest Crowley-assigned-odd-job regarding the Housewarden of the Octavinelle Dorm, she’d been recalling ocean related songs. Having been in the ocean for a while had really brought out her inner siren… or something. She couldn’t recall how she knew the handful of shanties that she did, but there was really no point in fretting about it. They sounded nice, so why not sing them when given the chance.

“Over waves and deep in the blue,

I will give up my heart for you.”

Chris turned the corner without looking. It had already become muscle memory for her, so she hardly had to check where she was going. She knew her way out of the school and to her dorm. It was almost mindless at this point. So much so that she hardly noticed her own footsteps.

Or anyone else’s.

”Come my love, be one with the sea.

Rule with me for eternity.”

Suddenly the song, along with her steps were briskly put to a halt. She’d bumped into someone when her guard was down but quickly snapped back to reality, stumbling back in the process.

“Sorry! I’m sor—“

She looked up to see an all too familiar figure turn to look at her.

Floyd.

“Was that you, shrimpy?” He mused, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed as his twin, only a few steps ahead of him, turned to see what had just happened.

Jade.

Both of them.

“Are you two alright?” The other boy asked, stepping back to be as uncomfortably close to Chris as his brother. She felt as though she had rapidly shrunk. There was no ill will between them, but Chris couldn’t shake the feeling of danger she felt whenever they approached. This time she was alone. No one could save her.

“Did you hear shrimpy?” Floyd asked, turning to his brother. “He was singing!”

“That was him?” Jade asked, bemused by the idea.

Chris didn’t dare make a sound.

“Yeah! Maybe Azul shoulda had him give his voice as collateral instead of the dorm when they made that contract.” Floyd laughed at his own joke, but this only reinforced the fear that was already brewing inside of Chris. Jade finally turned his attention to her.

Oh no.

“What my brother means to say is: you have a lovely voice.” He began. “Besides, we’d have no practical use for it.”

Not as reassuring as he might have thought, but there wasn’t much that either of them could say that could convince Chris not to run at the first chance she’d get.

“But you heard him right?” Floyd said, getting his brother’s attention again. “He almost sounded like a—“

Somewhere a pair of lightbulbs flickered on, illuminating what was once hidden.

Girl. Chris sounded like a girl.

The duo looked back at Chris only to see that she was already darting back around the corner she came from. They could hear Grim’s muffled shouting from his bubble, as he was definitely awake now. She was a good distance away by the time the two wordlessly agreed to go after her. They had so many questions now, and there was always a bit of fun to a chase, right?

“Wait up!”

“Come back!”

•

Also for anyone who’s wondering, this is the bubble:

[heelwriting]

Right, darling?

Day/Prompt: Day 5 - "I'll be your date for the party if you don't have one yet"

Fandom/Character(s): NJPW / Wrestling / Zack Sabre Jr x F!Reader

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 785

Summary: Reader is invited to an office christmas party but gets unwanted questions of when she is going to have a family so Zack steps up as her date.

@12daysofchristmas

She had been roommates with Zack since they were in their late 20s, at first it was just an add searching for a roommate but eventually they became really good friends.

Since Zack wrestled all over the world sometimes it was months since they saw each other and she was in charge of paying the bills and feeding the cat, they had a stable friendship but for the most part they didn’t go outside together, they had separate groups of friends and since she wasn’t on the wrestling scene she didn’t want to get involved and Zack was very respectful in that regard.

After working for her office for many years and getting picked on for never bringing a date, she was talking to another friend who was over for dinner one night, Zack was supposed to be on his room but accidentally overheard them.

When her friend left Zack came out to watch a movie with her on the living room.

“Did you have fun?”

He asked.

“Sure, we left you some salad on the fridge if you want it”

“Thanks, I’ll leave it for tomorrow”

Zack started hugging a pillow from the couch, she was watching tv but she suddenly felt his eyes on her.

“I heard you have the annual Christmas party on Friday”

She paused the tv and looked at him while nodding.

“Yeah, I just want to get over with it”

"I'll be your date for the party if you don't have one yet"

“W-what?”

“Yeah, I know how much you hate those and if I can help you get through that night I’ll do it”

She was still too perplexed and trying to understand, he never intervened in that way so she didn’t get his change of heart.

“Are you sure?”

She asked with a confused look on her face that made Zack smile.

“Hey, why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know, it’s not the kind of thing we do together usually”

She explained.

“Maybe it’s time for a change”

Zack said getting up.

“Just tell me the time we leave and I’ll be ready”

Zack left for his room but she was still weirded out by his offer, she wasn’t complaining but it was uncharacteristic of him to volunteer for a party. While in the other hand, Zack had heard her complaining about the people on her office getting on her nerves about getting married, especially her boss who was happily married and had 3 children.

Zack had a plan for the party but since he knew she wouldn’t like it he had to do it before she had the opportunity to back off.

The week passed by quickly and they finally went to the party, she walked close to Zack but not enough to be touching, she said hi to some of her coworkers, then she had to talk to her boss, she had told Zack to stay back but to her surprise he came after her a few seconds after she greeted her boss.

“And who is this handsome gentleman?”

Her boss asked watching as Zack put an arm around her shoulder.

“Well, he’s my…”

“Her husband, nice to meet you, she’s told me lots of good things about you over the years”

He put his hand out, the woman shook his hand but was very confused because of what he said.

“Ohh I thought you were single?”

Zack immediately intervened.

“Well I’m kind of in the public eye so we keep everything low key”

Zack paused talking to look at her with a warm smile.

“Right, darling?”

“Y-yes! That’s why I couldn’t talk about it”

The woman seemed pleased to hear she was actually married the whole time which as odd but it was better than the nagging she normally did, Zack had actually come to save her and she was grateful even if he didn’t tell her beforehand that he would lie.

“Well I’ll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy the rest of the night, I need to go back to my table, thanks for coming guys”

Her boss finally went away and she finally dropped her smile, she hit Zack in the chest.

“Ouch”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to help”

He shrugged his shoulders, she had a hand over her face.

“You should have told me!”

He just laughed and she hit his arm this time.

“I knew you wouldn’t go with my idea, but see now no one will tell you anything because you have a hot husband”

She laughed with him.

“Thanks for doing this, I really owe you”

“Go get your husband some food and we’ll be even”

He winked at her.

“Right away, my dear”

[fryingpan1234567]

I’m not sure if ECLIPSEWXTCH has a tumblr, but their cop/ mafia(??) au is fire and I’m writing some stuff for em

kidding they do in fact have a tumblr @eclipsewxtch

(characters in the book are all in their 20’s dw)

Griffin—focused post sorry he’s my fav character I’ll do more later

~

Griffin is the type of person who unironically listens to Doja Cat

(Also P!ATD and Harry Styles)

And yet his favorite song is Stacy’s Brother by Mad Tsai (then again it’s all their favorite so)

We could talk about how, while it’s pretty fuckin difficult to get him drunk, when he’s really sick he acts like it

Some people are confused by Bruce and Griff and Finn’s affection with each other. It’s just because they’re so close, and have been for their whole lives, and literally couldn’t give less of a fuck about showing those kinds of emotion. That’s a deadly combo

Yeah, they’re cops

Yeah, their morals are grayer than freaking dolphins rolled in ash. It’s a skill

At some point, when Griffin finally decides to let Billy fuck him at work, they’ve been making out for a while, B goes “I’ve had this dream,” with a drunken smile and Griff deadass goes “keep dreaming” and turns and continues working on the dead body two feet away because he’s a little shit like that

Billy was traumatized

Robin and Vance laughed at him for it later

Griff is also the type of person to binge Disney movies for like six hours, suddenly get bored of them, and switch right over to Deadpool or Saw or some shit and his energy doesn’t change At All

Speaking of horror movies– Finney and Bruce are shivering under a blanket, covering their eyes every time something remotely scary happens, and Griffin laughs every time someone is stabbed or killed

The first time Griff showed up to work in a skirt, 90% of his coworkers mysteriously had to leave with nosebleeds

It’s canon but. Billy is OBSESSED with Griffin’s thighs

No seriously that boy is down bad

Like if they’re cuddling or something and his legs are in reach, Billy’s hands are on them, and if Griffin has to shift, he will deadass complain about it and beg him to switch back 

(“no you asshole my legs are asleep we’ve been sitting like this for forty minutes” “pleaseee pretty boy” “NO YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE”)

Bruce would never tell anyone but Vance, but he absolutely had crushes on horror movie killers like Michael and Jason and Ghostface. He got so into true crime, he decided he wanted to devote his life to it, just… on the other end of the spectrum

Finney Blake loves sushi but can’t use chopsticks for the life of him. I said what I said

Griffin redoes his hair every couple months, when he goes back to get it cut– Billy’s personal favorite will always be red, but he’s a sucker for blue and pink and purple as well (really any color jesus this boy has it BADDD)

Sometimes Griffin will walk into work, blowing obnoxiously loud bubbles with his gum, and when he leaves, Billy is trailing behind him, mysteriously blowing his own pink bubbles with a shit-eating grin, Griffin’s nowhere to be found

Finn and Robin probably have the least toxic relationship of the three, aside from the lying about real names from right off the bat

Okay side note I genuinely Can Not Tell whether or not Griff and Finn and Bruce are going to make the other three better or Vance and Billy and Robin are going to make them worse because it could TOTALLY GO EITHER WAY

Not to spoil too bad, but Griffin is a little shit who smokes weed and will weaponize his looks to manipulate people into giving him what he wants

Finney is willing to hear out ANYONE if he thinks they’re speaking from the heart, and he will absolutely not hesitate to shoot somebody if they piss him off

Bruce has kept both dead bodies sent his way by the stalker hitman in some way– pictures of the guy, little bird preserved perfectly in its box. Also manipulates like a boss

Basically core Slytherins who do good only because it offers better pay and are THIS CLOSE to losing it and killing someone for mildly inconveniencing them

Billy, as I’ve said before and IN CANON, is absolutely fucking obsessed with Griffin. So obsessed, in fact, that he had to get closer to him in both personas just to see him more often. We know he’s not a total douchebag from the fact that he lets absolutely no sexual assault happen anywhere near his organization and only sells drugs for the money, not because he enjoys it

Robin liked Finn enough by, the first time they met, HID A BODY FOR HIM, and the second time let him patch him up after a fight and let him drive his fucking car, even when he knew something was up because Finn’s hair and eyes were totally different from the first time

Where do I even start with Vance.

My man killed somebody and made a biiig mess and delivered it as a gift to a poor boy he made out with in an elevator once and decided to stalk. He knows where he works and where he lives. If Bruce asked him to kill, he’d do it again, zero hesitation, and then turn to him looking for approval like a puppy. He’s almost as bad as Billy, if not worse

SEE WHAT I MEAN? IT COULD LITERALLY GO EITHER WAY. THEY’RE ALL SO MORALLY GRAY THE COPS COULD TURN BAD OR THE ACTUAL CRIME BOSSES COULD GET BETTER AND EITHER WAY WOULD MAKE COMPLETE AND TOTAL SENSE

See I could in fact write forever. But I am in class and I’m supposed to be doing this assignment that was due two days ago so✌️✌️ cya

[epitomereally]

🎵 🎶 5 faves from H/D Wireless 2023: Week 1 🎶 🎵

@hd-wireless, as always, has served us excellence. Thank you to the creators & mods. Usual disclaimer: I haven’t read everything yet!

Fic:

(you) find me when the lights go down by anon (1800 words, T)

Harry can hear footsteps on the stairs behind him but doesn't bother turning to look. There's only one person likely to follow him out here at this time of night.

"Potter," comes the crisp voice, easily recognisable as Draco. "You do know that most sane people, especially those who spend every waking moment complaining of being cold, would cast a warming charm. Or at the very least grab a sweater. Not spend every night attempting to turn into an icicle." What makes someone a ghost? Because if it's dying, Harry's got that covered.

A beautiful exploration of Harry’s demons in eighth year & how Draco can help exorcise them. How do I know I'm not a ghost? just punched me the solar plexus, so beautiful and so awful for Harry, and how tenderly Draco treats him, while still being Draco. One of the two masterclasses in short fic on this list! How MA says so much in so few words—I’m in awe.

Don’t hate him when he gets up to leave by anon (2200 words, M)

The linens are white and empty, sunlight slanting through the window illuminating a bed that has been deserted. Draco knew Potter would leave; he’s always gone by morning. Draco doesn’t even remember what he looks like in daylight.

Three words: pining while fucking. PINING. WHILE. FUCKING. I don’t even need to write a rec for this fic. Please click the link just for that tag.

Just kidding: MA, you can shove your brand of angst down my throat any day. I had to stop myself from quoting the entire fic back at you in my comment. Your prose is so evocative and sparse and melancholy. Marry me, please?

Title & Possession by anon (49k words, E)

Harry Potter’s life is going well in the aftermath of the war. Sure, his house is dark and run-down and might hate him (while his house elf definitely hates him). But other than that, things are good. Except, yeah, okay, Hermione and Ron are no longer on speaking terms. Worse, they keep trying to get Harry to pick sides. But otherwise, Harry couldn’t be happier. Well. Except for the fact that Ginny is being super weird about their relationship and never wants to have sex or talk about the future. But other than that, Harry is perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch. At least, he is until Draco Malfoy sues him for ownership of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Then Harry really isn’t fine at all.

This fic is FUNNY. Harry is such a wally, so perfectly in-character as our awkward, repressed, depressed, hilarious little cinnamon roll (and Draco is so proud and petty and desperate for Harry too). The romance is so well-deserved by both, and we love a Harry-realizing-his-sexuality fic (SO well-done here—the tension is scorching!). 

Everybody Hates a Tourist by anon (51.5k, E)

On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school. Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?

An absolute banger on the first day of the fest. Come for the absolutely perfect characterization of Harry & Draco, stay for the lush descriptions of Brighton and EVERYWHERE. The perfect start-of-summer fic, absolutely impeccable, gentle, gorgeous summer vibes (conveniently when where I live FINALLY started getting hot). So many elements to love here: Harry learning about himself, gently and with grace from everyone around him, the TEXTING (absolutely perfect), the side characters with perfect characterization (Seamus at the hotel!), the flirting, DRACO BUYING HARRY A LEATHER JACKET (;_;). Just bury me dead; this fic was so lovely & it’s all I need.

Art:

Alive by anon (E)

Harry is lost after the final battle, but he finds comfort from an unexpected source.

Eighth year will forever have my heart for some angsty healing, and MA has captured this so beautifully. This art is not only beautiful (the animations! the color palette! both Harry & Draco! Idk how to compliment art!), but it’s such a gorgeous journey for Harry—from the trauma of the war towards happiness again. Exactly what our darling boy deserves <3

[violetlunette]

The Ramshackle Un-Birthday Interview: Name

Summary: Ace asks Yuu about his name as part of his unbirthday interview.

Notes: This is part of the Un-birthday interview for my Yuusona who is Twisted from the Mad Doctor.

Warnings: *Mild language *Mentions of death and nearly dying

“Merow~! Look, Yuu! Don’t I look awesome?” Grim twirled to show off the suit he wore.

The pussycat had made a big deal at Ace’s party the day before about never having a party for himself. When asked about his own birthday, and Yuu responded he couldn’t recall the date as he never bothered to celebrate. As such, Aduce felt bad and convinced Riddle to host an unbirthday party for them. While unnecessary, Yuu was highly touched by the gesture.

“Grim, you’re a cat,” he said in response to the other. “You always look cute.” Grim pouted at the off-hand response.

“Hmph! That may be true, but you can still look!” he whined

“If I already know how you look, why do I have to?”

“Yuu~!”

Yuu ignored him as he was fussing with his tie. For some reason, his hand wasn’t working the way it was supposed to. (It may have been from the burns he acquired when he caught the pot earlier.) He knotted the tie for now. Once done, he looked himself in the mirror.

The best way to describe Yuu was that he had a cute face, but it was shame what he did to it and the rest of his body.

His skin was gray from lack of sleep and sunlight, but that was the least of its troubles.

“Self-care” in Yuu’s book was resetting bones and stitching himself up to get back to work. As such, it was colored by dark bruises and bright scars.

His face was technically cute, but only because it was round and childlike. Though compared to the hot model types that filled the school, his face looked like a death’s head.

‘Not that I mind, as it keeps folks from messing with me.’ He frowned at himself, bushing a wave of hair behind his ear. He was debating something when Grim jumped in front of him.

“Heeey! Listen! You got a lot of nerve to ignore me, human!” he whined. Yuu rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay!” he conceded, looking Grim over like the other wanted.

Like Yuu, Grim wore a white coat with a black sash across his chest. To Yuu, it wasn’t anything special, but he decided not to ruin his fun. After all, Grim was over the moon to hear that a party was being held for him. (He casually ignored that it was for Yuu as well.)

“You look like a cute plushy doll that any girl would love to hug and squeeze.” He forced his lips to stretch into a grin. “Happy?” Evidently not.

“What?! No! You’re supposed to say I’m cool!” The cat complained, fuming so hard Yuu could see puffs of steam come off him.

“Sorry, but if you want to be cool, you can’t dress up like a doll.” To be fair, he looked better than Yuu, whose suit looked like it had been dropped in a blender.

“I’m not a doll! I’m cool like a spy!” The argument would have continued, but then there was a knock, knock at the door.

“You two ready?” Deuce asked, peeking in before entering with Ace.

“Hey, Yuu! Looking sharp!” Ace teased, winking for effect. Yuu smirked back.

“Thanks. Why does my suit have holes in it?” He poked a finger through one of the tears. Ace grimaced.

“Why don’t you ask Brutus?” he said with a huff.

“Oh, were you two playing again?” Yuu said too casually. Grim snickered.

“Ha! You pulled the wrong lever again, didn’t ya?” he taunted.  Ace puffed up like an angry chick.

“No, I did not! It was Deuce!” he accused.

“It’s—it’s not my fault! They both look the same, and mechanisms always switch,” Deuce said in his defense. Ace decided that it wasn’t worth the argument at the moment.

“Whatever!” he grumbled, digging in his packet. “You two ready for your interview?” Ace asked, pulling out a notepad.

Yuu frowned slightly as he asked, “Huh? You’re doing that too?” Yuu had done birthday interviews in the past under Crowley’s orders but wasn’t expecting to ever have the roles switched.

“Sure! We want you to have the full UBD experience!” Deuce said with a smile. Yuu sighed, giving in. They were doing this for him after all, and he trusted them not to write anything too personal. (Besides, he ran the school paper. He could edit out anything he desired.)

“You sure you want us to do this today, Ace?” he asked the scarlet-eyed boy. “I mean, your birthday was just yesterday. You sure it’s okay to just drop the attention on us now?” Ace smirked.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” he said. “Not only do I get more treats, but I get to repay you for yesterday.

“What, you didn’t care for the oysters?” Yuu teased as he flopped into a bright yellow chair. Grim floated to the arm where he rested.

“They got up and stole the main course!” Ace exclaimed, a vein twitching. “We had to spend all afternoon looking for them!”

“Think of it as a surprise birthday game.”

“Oh, I’ve got a birthday game for you later,” Ace grumbled. “Anyway, on to the interview!” He flipped open the pad. Deuce followed suit, looking determined to do this properly.

“Yuu R. Hoo…” After he scribbled the name down and said it aloud, he grimaced. “Is that really your name?”

Yuu shook his head as he replied, “Odd first question, but no. I just didn’t trust Crowley enough to give him my real name.” The reactions varied.

“Seriously?” Ace’s was flat but not surprised.

“Huh? Really?!” Deuce was surprised, and his eyes grew a little.

The one who was the loudest was Grim, who cried. “Eh?! You mean you’ve been using a fake name all this time?!”

“Yeah,” Yuu said, answering them all at once. His expression had a statement of, “Wasn’t it obvious?” Deuce tilted his head with a slight frown.

“Why would you use a fake name?” A number of reasons came up in his head.

Yuu—or Not-Yuu was a good friend, and he often helped Deuce and Ace when they needed it; however, some of his actives were—well, let’s just say Deuce omitted some stuff from the letters he sent his mother.

Yuu raised a thick eye brow over a black eye.

“Dude. His name is Dire Crowley. Why would I trust him?” he asked. “Plus, he wore a bird mask with glowing eyes and walked around with a cane that twirled around around like a baton. That is the surest sign of an untrustworthy person!” Deuce pondered this, as did Ace, as they both recalled Azul and Fellow Honest. Not-Yuu had a point.

Grim looked at the corpse pale boy in confusion.

“Then what is your real name?” The boy blinked, tilted his back, and hummed in thought.

“Name… What’s my name, what’s my name? What….”

Ḩ̸̥͔̯͚̝̝̈́̈́͘̚͜o̴̢̱̗̺̗̻̗͒̑̒͐̒̽̌̓̊̑͋w̵͙̘̙͕͙̯̻͒͛̇̿ͅ ̵̡̹͎̫̥̱͚͔̥͔͈̍ḑ̶̰̥̰̮͙̰̟͔͑́̃̅̀̃̃̂̕͜͠ͅͅḭ̸͉̱̣̝̝̖̰͍̯̣̯̗͖̋̔͘͝͝ͅd̵̪͛̇̀̄̃̽͂̍͘ͅ ̷̛̲̝̖͓̘̮̯̺̞̘̹̗̿̂̈́̅͆́̕͠͠ͅy̸͈͖͑͂̆̍͆̊͂͝ơ̸̩͓̥͈̭͒̒͋̅̈́̓̓͐͛̄͗̍͘͜͠u̷̧̪̦̜͕͙͌̄̔̍̇̄͠ ̴̥̞̮̫̣͉͔̩̰͚̝̗̯̈̇͑͆̒̈́̀͒̏͝ͅg̷̛̭͔͈̤͕̳̞͖͖̠̲̒̈̐̉̾̔͘͜e̷̹̞̲̤͔̺̰̤̐͛͂̏͗͆̔͆̓́̏͜t̴̨̛̛̖̜̳͚̘͙̲̥͖̻͉̮͇͐̍͛̊̅͋ͅ ̵̛̬̤̱̀̀̏̀́̎͛̑̊̽͘h̷̡͍̥̲͔͙̩̝̙̖͈͈̿͛͂͜ę̵̢̘͍͉͇̞̦̼́͋͌͑̒͑͘r̵̜̭͉͙̜͔̋͋̂̊̂̈́̿̅̐̄̊̈̓̚͠ȩ̵̧̰̯͚̺̪̠̹̱͙̟̒̅͌̚͜?̵̢̨͔̗̥̝̗̩̬͓́̋̿̄̓̍͘ ̸̢̠̥̣̠̭̮̠͎͎̖̟͗̐̉ͅW̴̢̯̤̣͍̬̥͉̫͔͍͕̑̐͑͐̈̑́ḩ̶̧̡͕̥̘̭͕͉̜̮̾̃̈͘͜͝ạ̷̰̦̺̦̣̺̾͌̒̅̌̅̓̔͑͆́̔̋̚͝ţ̸̛̥̲̯̰̤̺͚͙̣͚̖͚̹̾́̋̑̽͗̈́̈́͂͂͜͠'̸̛̪͎̯̬̻̫̮̼͍̮͖͑̓̏͑͗̓̄͋̌̒͊̓͂̚ͅs̸̛̼̲̞̗̑͐͛̔͆͆͐͋͝ͅ ̸̩̙̝̠̲̭͇͔̍ỳ̵̜͚̗̪̜̩͔͇̂̋̎͋̋ͅo̷̟̳̝̹̮͇̎ų̴̬̯̖̯̹͍͛̏̀̓͊̌͝r̷̨̛̦̜͓̯̲͈̪̓̓̀͂̒́́͆̌͊̌̑̀͝ ̸̧̧͉̲̳͎͍̦̠̠̦̣̱̺̍̎̇́̃̋̉̈̀͋̍̇͘͜ņ̵̛̛͚̲̙̜͒̈́̈́̾��̏̓̈́͝a̵̡̝̭̬̎̉͜͝m̷̨̢̡̗̝̟̹͇͉͈̝͇̾́̄̅́̾͛̏̒̀̆̎͘ͅȅ̸̛̬̙͗̌͆̚͝?̷̢̡̙͖̘̜̓͐̊̋͑͐̉̓̽̕ͅ

X̷̡̨͚̝̩̙̫̺̭̪̺̤̗̹̗̎ą̴̪̾̀̿ͅv̶̼̥͕̍͊̔̆i̴̠̮̖̗̦̙̖̰͑̍̄͊͊̓e̷̙̎̀̆̀͘͝r̴̢̢̛͈͕̹͇̒͂̓̽͂̉?̷̨̞̪͇̞̫̃̚͝ ̵̩̙͓̳̗̬̥̗̥̰̳͈̪̣̖̋̀̿̾͆X̸͖̥̐̌̄̇̿̎̑͆̔͆͐͌̎̀ͅą̸̢͎̮̪̠̤̘͎̤̙̰͚͔̒͌̓̉͒̆̄̕n̴̨̝̥̠̯͔͂̈́́ͅd̶͔̳͓͌r̷̡͉͚̜͉̣̭̙͈̲͇̯͉͉͎̐̄̉̍i̶̡̯͎͉͙̦̓̓̈́̏͊̌̓̀͗͋̀a̵͙̞̝͍̝͊̆͋̎̐͝͝n̶̡̡̻̞̪̞̲͙̏̒?̵̧̤̦̟̦̫̜̯̋̉̍͊̃̎͒͊̚͘͜ͅ ̵̟̎͌̉̀̂̄̍̐̔̊̈͗̂̚͘Ẍ̴̻̺͈̙̳̬̲͓̝̲̳̭́̈́͜͜à̶̡̢̡͉͇͎͔̭̫̜̗̹̯͂̇́̿̇̌̾̒̕̕͜͝ͅn̷̗̠̣̩̜̰̽̌̓́ḏ̷̻̣̗̪̻̩͖͓̩͇͍̯̬̄̔͋͗́̎͐̏̈́̐͋͘̕͝ę̷̨̫̻̟͈̝̣̳͓͓͈̲̰̏r̵̡̨̛͕̣̼̂́͐͐͒͒̓̽͝ͅ?̸̛̜̓̐̇̆͒̽͒͒̾

X...X...X…

“Uh...censored?” The others were even more confused than before.

“Your name is Censored?” Deuce repeated as Grim meowed, “Censored? Really?” It took a moment before Ace put two and two together.

“By ‘censored,’ do you mean you can’t remember it?” he asked with a frown. Yuu confirmed this with a short, “Bingo!” The three annoyed and confused before Deuce remembered something.

“Ah, that’s right—you've mentioned that you have trouble remembering stuff, right?” he said, touching his chin in thought. Yuu nodded.

“Mm-hm. Yeah, my mind’s fucked,” he said, exhaling an annoyed sigh, his face twisted in a scowl. “But you know, at least I have an excuse: I had my brain trampled when I first came here, and before that there were side effects from my dimension travels. I think?” He attempted really hard to recall, but—nope, just static.

All the others jumped when they heard this, eyes growing twice their size.

“Hold up, go back; you were run over?!”

“Wait. Do you mean literally or figuratively?!”

“Literally. As in, my brain was stomped to mush. Someone came around the mountain with her six white—er, four black—horses and ran me down. No idea if she was wearing red pajamas or not.” Yuu closed his eyes, attempting to pull up the memory he needed before elucidating.

“Well—that’s what the school doctor and the doctor they brought over from Queendom or whatever said.

“After the magic mirror revealed I’m from out of this world, Crowley noticed I was—out of it? So, he took me to the nurse.

“I was too out of it to recall details, but they figured out that not only was I from another world, but my body was trampled.” Grim’s fur stood on the edge.

“What?! You mean you died?!” he meowed. “Wait! Does that mean you’re a zombie?!” He added, about to cry. Yuu opened his eyes and glared.

“No! You saw me try to make a zombie, remember?” The boys were so shocked by the previous revelation that they didn’t react to that statement. “I’m nothing like that! All my organs work. I’m more like Frankenstein. Technically? I think? I mean, I’m not dead now, and I was only dying before... I mean, I think?” Yuu’s brow furrowed as he tried to mentally squint at the mental picture. Even he had trouble understanding what happened, so it was even harder to explain.

“From what I gathered, I was in the limbo stage when I somehow ended up in the coffin—or gates, whatever. I think they think somehow the magic healed me and brought me back from the brink of death. I think?” To be honest, this was a touchy subject for him.

Yuu prided himself on being able to properly repair himself when needed. However, his mind was one of the few things he couldn’t fix. After all, how do you fix your brain without your brain? It was very annoying.

Ace was both amazed and horrified.

“Wow...the gates can do that?” he asked. Yuu thought about this.

“I guess? Haven’t thought to study them till now, to be honest,” he told them. Then he shrugged it off, deciding to think about it later. “Anyway, I was told that they have some sort of rejuvenation magic to make the student look their best when they arrive. That magic mended my bones and reshaped everything else. So, here I am. Reformed from broken parts.” Aduce looked ill, their skin pale with slight horror.

“Shit, that explains a lot... Are there any side effects?” Stupid question, as the “side effects” were sitting in the chair looking at them with the eyes of a dead fish.

Yuu pondered this before responding.

“Hmm…. Well, physically, my bones make more noises when I move, and I’m double-jointed everywhere.” He demonstrated by waving his wrist around and swinging his hand as if it were rubber. Each movement made a disturbing ‘krrk, krkk!’ sound. “Brain-wise? Memory’s a bit cracked. I mean, I remember stuff, but it’s like looking through a cracked window with static on the other side. And even then, stuff is out of context, and I’ve realized that I’ll occasionally mix things up from TV shows I saw and my own life.”

“So, even if you do remember stuff, it’s not always accurate?” Deuce asked. After Yuu confirmed, Ace looked at him in pity.

“That’s...actually pretty sad.”. Yuu raised himself, as if taking the gaze as an insult.

“But temporary,” he stated firmly, looking each in the eye as if daring them to challenge him on this fact. “Once I get better at this potion thing, I’ll be able to fix myself up easily!” He calmed himself and sat back down, resting his head on his palm.

“Till then, a name is just an identifier, and ‘Yuu’ fills that function. So let’s just stick with that as a name.” Feeling the mood drop slightly, the others moved on to the questions.

“If you say so…”

~end~

A/N: This is a bit wordy. I’ll shorten the others, but I wanted to try to use this as an opportunity to share of lore about Yuu.

The glitchy text came from here, btw.

[voidthescribe]

in the name of the moon...something something...whatever

(an Obiyuki Sailor Moon AU) 

my second written obiyuki bingo entry! please forgive the mad cheesiness, I do really appreciate sailor moon but I find it mad cheesy. also the idea of obi wearing sparkly shorts was too funny to not use. enjoy!

________

Obi stared at the glossy black cat sitting on his bed and started to laugh. 

He couldn’t help it. Then he looked down at himself and laughed even harder. By the time Luna could get him to calm down, calling his name in an increasingly exasperated tone, Obi was lying on the floor like a star, chest heaving with suppressed chuckles.

“This is serious,” said the cat, tail flicking with annoyance. “The magic I’ve bestowed upon you is not to be taken lightly! You are destined to save Earth from the forces of evil, Obi, and I’d like it if you had a little more gravity.”

“Okay.” Obi crossed his legs and sat up, folding his hands primly. “Consider me grave as a full moon. But you’ve got to admit, Luna, the outfit is ridiculous.”

Luna humphed. “The Moon Guardian outfit has been passed down through generations—”

“Of women, obviously, because there are too many sparkles on here for my comfort—”

“The moon shines brightly in the night sky and the guardian reflects that light—”

“The moon also goes in phases; can’t I be more of a new-moon sort of guardian? I’m more of a stealth sort of guy.” Obi raised his hands, pretending to creep. The effect was very much ruined by the white sailor shirt and shiny blue shorts.

Luna sighed. “We can talk about the outfit. But listen to me first. Your first quest will be to find your fellow Sailor Guardians. They are the guardians of other celestial bodies and will help you in your ultimate journey.”

Obi was doing his best not to yawn. “Ultimate journey?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled. “You are to find the legendary artifact, the Silver Crystal. With its supreme power—and the combined power of the Sailor Guardians—you will be able to defeat the forces of evil once and for all, and bring balance to the universe.”

“Um…Luna, look, I hear what you’re saying, but I’m really not the saving-the-world type…”

“Which is why you’ll need my training,” Luna continued patiently. “This is your destiny, Obi.”

Obi looked down at his sparkling uniform, unconvinced.

“Okay. So—I just need to find other…Sailor Guardians…and then the Crystal?”

“Yes. So you’ll do it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No!” Luna clapped her paws. “Also, you’re late for school.”

“Why,” Obi whined, leaping to his feet. “You knew.”

“The more you complain, the later you’ll be!”

Obi prayed to the god of sparkly princess powers to do some very nasty things to Luna as he threw a hoodie over the sailor shirt and skidded out the door. Apparently the ability to run in platforms came free with the new guardianship.

____

Obi was grateful that the magic clothes had faded halfway on the way to school, especially since the platforms were hurting his feet. There had been no sign of Luna during the day, and while he hadn’t really been looking, no sign of any Sailor Guardians, either.

Are they going to be classmates or something?

There had been a very tall boy with turquoise hair who’d stared at him for the entirety of second period, but he’d chalked that up to boredom.

There had also been that absolutely enchanting red-haired girl he'd nearly knocked over on his way to school who had accepted his eight apologies with the most adorable smile he'd ever seen, and smelled like flowers, and had the nicest hands, and he needed to get a life.

The pin Luna had given him rested securely in the inside pocket of his hoodie and had stayed cool all day, despite being up against his skin. School was now over and he’d holed up in his favorite tea shop with the massive pile of homework he’d accumulated. Jasmine tea steamed comfortingly in the cup to his right and a massive anpan sat next to it. Obi was reaching for the sweet bun, ready to sink his teeth into it, and then the entire tea shop exploded outward and Obi found himself flailing through the air, surrounded by shards of broken glass. He landed unhurt several feet away from the smoking scene and got to his feet, blinking in shock. There was a gaping hole in the side of the tea shop and despite the commotion no one was running to help, or screaming? In fact, the entirety of the street was empty.

It was then that Obi remembered there was a parade in the town square and they’d blocked off this road. That explained the distinct lack of people on the street when he’d walked over after school. And the cheering, music, and shouting from two streets over. There was no way anyone had heard anything over the celebration.

Obi thought that was weirdly convenient of the universe.

From the wreckage of the shop stepped a beautiful lady with short reddish hair, holding her hands at her sides in a dramatic sort of supervillain pose. She’d been behind the counter about five minutes ago and the more Obi looked at her, the less human she became. The last time he’d checked women didn’t have bulging yellow eyes and lizard-like skin on the daily.

“Moon Guardian,” she hissed, “I am Jadeite. We meet at last.”

Obi shuffled into a weak sort of fighting pose, raising his fists, more confused than anything else. He was okay with fighting as a whole and figured this was a kind of boss fight, since he’d just been declared savior of the universe (or whatever) but he hadn’t expected anything this soon. He hadn’t even had a mastering-his-powers montage yet. Had Luna even mentioned any sort of training?

“Yeah, that’s—me. Unfortunately. You’ve heard of me? I just got the job this morning.”

Jadeite laughed, the sound like dark water over sharp rocks. “You are funny, little guardian.” Then her hands started to glow a menacing green. “Too bad I have to kill you.”

Obi would have laughed if that green energy didn’t look so deadly. The brooch tucked into his jacket began to burn, so he took it out, holding it in his palm. It was also glowing.

“Obi!”

Luna was behind him, perched on a wall.

“What?” Obi held up the brooch. “Is this you?”

“Excuse me,” said Jadeite, dropping her hands a little. “I’m on the clock.”

“You have to transform!” Luna pointed a paw at the brooch.

“Okay, fine. You did it last time. Go ahead.”

“No, it has to be you! You have to yell Moon Prism Power, Makeup! That’s your transformation phrase!”

“Okay, are you serious? How long has it been since you’ve had a male guardian?”

A blast of green energy sang by Obi’s ear, smashing into the wall.

“Moonprismpowermakeup!” Obi screeched.

The brooch hummed, shooting out bursts of white light. Obi felt his feet leave the ground and he began to spin, the way he had in his bedroom earlier that day. But this felt different. More powerful.

It also took about twenty seconds longer.

“I am Handsome Guardian Sailor Moon,” Obi yelled, posed dramatically in the air, hair swirling around his ears.

Jadeite looked a little dumbstruck.

Obi pointed the staff that had magically appeared in his hands at her. “In the name of the Moon,” he intoned, voice echoing, “I will punish you!”

A blast of energy shot from the staff and sent Jadeite spinning backwards about 20 feet, into the rubble of the tea shop. Obi flew after her, laser-focused, and found her smoking body in a heap on top of what used to be the front counter.

He landed, gently, and felt the focus fade from his brain.

“You did it!” Luna leapt atop a turned-over chair, smiling the way cats do. “See? This is your destiny!”

“I guess—I guess so.” Gently, Obi turned the staff over in his hands, examining the moon crest on top of it, the ornate carvings on the handle. He did feel different.

“Seriously, though, I could lose the shorts, I’m getting a wedgie.”

Luna rolled her eyes—then she was pointing behind Obi, screaming something he couldn’t hear because there was a terrible pain in his back and he was skidding across the damaged floor—

Jadeite was a horrible twisted thing, leaning over him, blackened and grinning, hands charging with deadly green—

A single rose hit the floor in front of her feet and stuck.

Jadeite paused, straightened a little, looked up in confusion. Obi, dazed and aching, looked too, towards the entrance of the shop—

Silhouetted in the sunlight stood a lanky figure dressed in a tasteful black suit and flowing cape with red lining. A white mask covered the top half of her face.

She looked utterly calm as she threw another glinting rose, piercing Jadeite in the chest. The monster screamed and collapsed, finally lying still.

Obi blinked, hard.

“What.”

The girl stepped into the rubble, smiling mysteriously at Obi. Her hair was as red as the lining of her cape.

“You did well, Sailor Moon,” she said.

“Um,” Obi muttered intelligently, intoxicated by the sudden scent of flowers. “Who are you?”

“My name is--Tuxedo Mask.” The girl lost a little of her composure when she said the name, like she wasn’t quite used to saying it.

Obi very politely chose not to say no, duh.

“We will meet again.” Lifting her cape, Tuxedo Mask disappeared in a swirl of material.

Obi stared after her.

“Luna, please tell me one of the signs of concussion isn’t seeing pretty girls who throw roses at people.”

“It’s not,” griped Luna, glaring after the girl. “I didn’t like that.”

“Speak for yourself.” It hurt to stand, but Obi managed, despite having to get up on three-inch platforms.

“She can’t be trusted, Obi, weird people who pop in out of nowhere are suspicious!”

“She didn’t seem evil to me. She literally just saved me from being killed.”

“Tuxedo Mask,” mused the cat. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for her.”

“Me too,” said Obi, and he meant it.

____

@snowwhite-andtheknight

[paragonrising]

[ @forevermuses | peter to carol ]

On Christmas morning, Peter practically launches himself into Carol's cabin, slamming into her bed while yelling out Christmas carols in order to properly greet her into the day's events.

By the door are her gifts, to be delivered to her once she is awake and likely when she is done making Peter pay for such an entrance. The gifts are three: a large box containing snacks and delicacies from around the galaxy (Peter might ask her later if he can have a few, just to try them), a pair of aviator sunglasses that, as Peter claims, some moron on Knowhere did not know the value of and, last but not least, a reservation in a Karaoke parlor for the duration of three hours for two people with unlimited drinks.

She couldn’t rightly say she was sleeping. Carol was dimly aware of the world around her, her mind balancing on the fine edge of consciousness versus dreaming. Every once in a while, she’d teetered a little too far over, and be asleep again. Then she’d want to shift, or roll over, and so sleep would waver in favour of comfort. It was nice, lounging in bed like a lazy cat under warm blankets, dozing.

She didn’t hear the door open, but it must have – as all of a sudden Quill’s voice was booming, singing Christmas. That lovely, drifting state she’d been in crumbled.

Carol didn’t really get a moment to complain though, as she felt something large hit her bed and then she flung out of it. Sh struck the side of her cot and slammed down onto the floor. It was cold, the air was cold, everything about this experience was cold, a little jarring, and loud.

She sat up, and just over the edge of the bed her eyes could be seen, glaring at the man.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she grumbled, hauling herself off the floor.  She ran her hand through her hair as she stood, getting it out of her face. “Alright there, Sinatra, thank you for the serenade—” she crawled back onto the bed and covered his mouth with her hand. “I didn’t think you could get up this early.”

Or had she slept in?

Her gaze flicked towards the door, inevitably drawn by the gifts. She looked back at Quill.

“Are those for me?” She asked, surprised.

Honestly, he could have just got her the giant box of assorted treats and she would have been happy. She sat crossed legged on the bed, with a pink and blue candied kraken tail hanging out her mouth like a cigarette as she opened the second, smaller gift. Her eyes light up, lips curve into a wide smile and then a grin as she holds up a pair of aviators.

The last time she had anything like this, she’d been a pilot on Earth.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, ecstatic. “Now I can fly in style.”

Carol wasted no time putting them on, offering Quill a candy tail that was red, blue and green as she reached for the last gift.

It was a simple green envelope, nothing fancy save for a little bow stuck on the corner. She shot Quill a suspicious glance before she opened it, pulling out a shimmering holographic ticket.

“What?” She said, at first confused. “Wait, what?” She picked up a small, thin data-card that detailed what he’d gotten her. “No way, you…” She looked at Quill, stunned. She removed her new glasses and stared at him.

Then pounced.

“This is amazing, Peter, thank you,” she grinned, then kissed him, “I can’t wait.”

She rolled off of him and out of bed, hurrying over to a small cabinet.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised as she handed it to him, “I didn’t have time to wrap it.”

Too many missions and not enough time to come up for air, but that wasn’t important at the moment. The gift was a simple metal picture frame and in it, what looked like a polaroid of Quill and Yondu. They were laughing about something, hard to tell what, but the picture itself was one that captured a moment they hadn’t thought anyone else was paying attention.

“If you press the little button on the side,” she showed him, and upon touching it, the frame gently lowered onto its back and projected a hologram above it. “It’ll go through some other photos.”

There was one of Quill, Rocket, Drax, Groot, and herself playing some variation of poker, all of them laughing though poor Groot appears confused. Next was Nebula and Quill working on the ship’s core, Gamora and Drax arm-wrestling, Mantis and Kraglin working on something together with Cosmo in the background… the frame had dozens to flick through.

There was a tiny mew before they were joined by a small, calico coloured kitten with green eyes. It looked between the two and approached Carol. She smiled, and picked up the feline.

“I was wondering where you slunk off too,” she scratched behind the kitten’s ear, “his name is Kevin Bacon,” she revealed, “Bacon for short,” she handed the small creature to Quill. “He’s a flerkitten… flerken-kitten? He’s one of Goose’s babies.”

She gave Peter a semi-serious look, “do not feed Rocket to him.”

[dasher85]

15. Splendour

A sequence from  Inexpressible

Kamisato Ayato X Reader | you | y/n

Recommended to read the other parts (but can be considered a short story)

Sequence: 15 (FINAL)

[  to love and be loved ]

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

The servants carried exquisite furniture to the capacious room. The floor, walls, windows were particularly cleaned without a spot of dust. You stood in the hallway, outside of the room, making suggestions for the interior arrangements to the Estate's owner himself. Ayato intently listens to you, and occasionally gives a reply but you thought he wasn't entirely focused on that matter. In fact he hasn't been himself ever since breakfast. 

"Is there work coming up? I'll handle the room arrangements, you go ahead and address the matter"

He frowned, revealing half of his unspoken emotions, "I'm still disappointed. I have yet again been defeated by luck itself" he complained. 

You laughed, instantly getting what he meant by that. "My poor adorable cat… as I promised, we still have a date to go too."

[ Two hours earlier ]

Ayato made you sit on his lap, one arm supporting the back of your body and the other was holding on to your side just to keep you securely close.

You had just removed the blanket that you've previously pulled over to cover your face away from him. It did take you much courage to meet his gaze but you didn't want to ignore his little request either. Otherwise he'll probably gloom over you for the whole day.

His light purple eyes unblinkingly patronizing over you, eagerness lingering behind his calm demeanor. You adoringly displayed a smile as your fingertips were about to reach over the side of his cheeks…

"My Lord, breakfast is ready!" A few knocks were heard from the main door, after the person quickly informed Ayato from outside.

You quickly stood up, almost pushing the latter to the side, feeling utterly surprised by the slight commotion.

"I'm off duty today until Monday, Thoma!"

The said person must've thought the Commissioner was almost late for work and hasn't been updated with Ayato's latest schedule due to his recent tasks outside of Inazuma.

You deliberately hold your laughter, keeping your lips sealed. Ayato glanced up towards you, looking as if he had experienced emotional damage and despair. He was unsatisfied. 

"Come here…" he whispered, insisting you to return.

"Oh dear… breakfast is ready…" you took the jade comb from the table and quickly combed your hair. Your back facing him, intentionally acts as if you didn't hear him but he still could see the wide smile on your lips from the reflection of the mirror. 

He helplessly sighed, feeling defeated yet again. Ayato wasn't sure if it was because of the mention of food that had made you smile like that or was it because you simply had the chance to escape away from him yet again?

"Y/n… " he called out, pointing his hair expecting you to understand what he was requesting you to do.

You nodded and went over with the jade comb. His blue hair was fluffy to the touch and wasn't damp anymore compared to last night. You gleefully smiled while combing and styling his hair. It was risky to get too close with him because he could literally rope you into giving him the kiss he was eagerly asking from you but you're risking it all just to touch his soft hair. 

Eventually he smiled too, heavily influenced by your facial expression. He hasn't noticed it until now but it seems you're particularly happy whenever you get the chance to play around with his hair.

He still remembers the first time you playfully messed up his hair before boarding the ship back to your homeland. If it wasn't you, he would have considered sending that person into prison but that thought never once crossed his mind back then. Those were such precious moments he couldn't possibly forget. 

"Done" you informed him with a wide smile but then quickly taking large strides, almost running just to exit from his room. As if you've been released by your abductor and giving no such chance for him to take any unexpected actions. 

If he wasn't in deep thoughts, reminiscing about your past behavior, you wouldn't have been given any chance of escaping away from him either. He let out a chuckle, trailing his gaze on you as you hurriedly closed the sliding door leaving him there.

[ Present time ]

"Come to think of it, you never planned a date for me" you nonchalantly speak out of the blue while looking at the room's progress. 

"My dear, that's a harsh accusation." He whispered beside you. 

"It's true. You only tag along with me whenever you're not busy" 

"It wasn't tagging along, it's called accompanying you with a devoted heart"

"Mhmm…  Alright, I'll give you that"

Although it was a simple conversation, you both started laughing as if someone had whispered a joke but quickly quieted down after a servant asked to choose a curtain fabric.

You only glanced at him, indicating that you'd prefer him to choose from the options because you didn't want to decide on that.

"My wife says, she prefer the the one with golden embroidery"

Once the servant nodded and returned to her task you finally gave him a look. 

"What?" He questions after receiving the draggers from your eyes.

"I didn't say that"

"You just did. I happened to pay my full attention to your preferences"

He only smiled seemingly at ease. It then occurred to you that whenever a servant asks questions he'll answer with 'My wife…' or 'She says…' even though you never told him to say any of it. It was as if he'd take every chance to say it out loud, emphasizing the same word ever so clearly.

"No. I don't like the mirror position. It'll reflect the sunlight from the window. But I'll change it later" You casually informed him. However, after saying that, he went on instructing the servant to adjust the mirror position based on your suggestion. 

"Don't trouble them too much, Ayato."

"My-"

You already knew what he was going to literally announce to the servants who were diligently working. So, you ended up quickly pulling him away from there before he could make any further unnecessary remarks.

"Let's go… let's go on a date"

"Oh? I wasn't expecting someone to be so eager to go out on a date with me?" He casually brings his face closer to yours as if he wasn't evidently unsatisfied just moments ago. 

Usually you could literally just ignore him as if he didn't exist but today you decided to turn your head to meet his gaze.

"Yes, are you unsatisfied that it's just with me?" You smiled before quickly turning your face away as if you've said nothing to him. 

It was so quick, but he was indeed caught off guard by your sudden actions to the point that he couldn't quickly react to your question.

"I am pleased indeed" 

Eventually he happily smiled, casually caught your hand before quickly kissing the side of your head. You barely reacted but you still ended up smiling anyway. 

[ Nearby the Seashore, hillside ]

The distant sea breeze, the blue sky and the warm sunlight through the tree leaves creates a comfortable sense of warmth and familiarity. The both of you were leaning back against the tree trunk. He was admiring the distant blue sea while you were flipping the pages of your note book. 

It was the same place where he first met you. Where the Sakura tree blooms in unison with his fondness towards you. Where fate and destiny ties both hearts into one.

"Huh!" You exclaimed as you tried to catch the piece of paper that flew past your grasp.

Ayato quickly stood up and caught the paper with one hand, a little too quick that he almost crumpled the paper.

"Oh no…" 

"It's alright" You smiled, feeling relieved that the paper was saved from being taken away by the wind.

He hands you the paper after trying to carefully straighten the crease. In that white paper, there wasn't any sentence written on it but a decent drawing that was drawn using a pencil. On a brief glance, he could've sworn that he was looking at the mirror's surface. 

"Y/n… it's illegal to draw me while I was asleep" he huffed like a five year old. 

You casually placed the paper back in between the notebook that you've brought along with you as if you never heard him complaining.

"I don't know what you're talking about. That's not you" It was obviously him but you denied it all the same. The amount of time he rests his head on your lap only makes it easy for you to just make a copy of his ethereal features. In your defense, it's his own fault.

He laughed, feeling amused by your no effort excuse against him.

"Oh? Is that so… then tell me about him" he smiled, eagerly waiting for your answer. If you decide to play an act then it wouldn't be a problem for him to join in. 

"I love him"

That's it, you gave him a simple answer without implying any humor in your words. It was as if you're talking about how the weather was hot without any enthusiasm but pure honesty was clearly evident in your unwavering voice. You were voicing out a fact.

Ayato expected that it would be difficult for you to describe a reply for his question and perhaps it would be amusing to witness such moments. How he thought you would just shy away and feel uneasy to answer his question. However, he never thought you'd say those words so suddenly. Unlike you, he was the one who was being left speechless. How then would he keep that same amused smile against your answer? In that instant, all his scheming thoughts were completely cleared away from his mind.

Ever so slowly, a gentle smile slowly formed on his lips. He's just too happy that he's unable to express it with words but you knew that. You knew how much that specific word actually affected him like a headache during a busy day. It was a direct win against him. 

"Oh wow… you're not jealous that I love someone else?" You teasingly smiled at his reaction.

The Commissioner who often finds himself enjoying other people's misery is now but a vulnerable soul when he's against you. He tried to open his mouth but he seemed unable to erase the smile on his lips.

"That's unfair…" eventually he softly replied after a minute of you laughing at how helpless he had become over such words. Despite that, he's genuinely content to see the joy in your usually calm features. 

"You seem overly happy, I don't see the need to apologies" you jokingly replied finally relaxing yourself from all the laughter.

Ayato walked over towards you, instantly closing the distance between the two of you. He slightly bends over and rests his forehead on your left shoulder. In truth, he hasn't giving up on winning against you. 

"What should I do? I've fallen helplessly in love with the person who drew the drawing." He meekly whispered.

"Marry her?" You laughed once more unable to take him into account.

"I already did". He dramatically replied with a whisper before slowly taking one of your hands into his hold while his other arm wrapped around your waist.

"...are you taking me hostage now?" You raised a brow and instantly became aware of his move.

"Aren't you already mine?" He finally raised his head to meet your gaze with complete admiration in his unwavering light purple eyes. His lips lifts up in a gentle arc, just as he usually does whenever he sees you.

You gulped, somehow the feeling of nervousness slowly increasing your once normal heart rate. How did a playful moment become a rather serious situation? Too serious for your own liking. Something about the question itself triggers a certain turbulence in your chest and you dislike how uncontrollable it was... It's like a disease. 

"Hmm… you're not going to answer me?" His voice smooth like honey, laced with genuine fondness. If he says one more word, you'd rather just faint and not reply to give an answer.

"...your face is too ugly, stop talking" On the spur of the moment, you couldn't help but blurted out something random without actually admitting that you were feeling overwhelmed.

He looked at you feeling a little surprised but eventually returned a knowing smile. "Why don't you try listening to my heartbeat? You might find it just the same as yours."

"What nonsense?"

Even now, he's still learning about your little quirks and ideas but he's definitely progressing quite a lot. Experiencing those moments when you're sad, angry, embarrassed or just simply happy made him forget how difficult it was to get a reaction from you back then. Now, he could understand you better without you actually saying it to him. 

Without actually receiving your approval, he gently wrapped you into a gentle embrace. You slightly refused at first but perhaps curiosity has grown stronger than your resolute thoughts. Hence you stayed. Eventually pressing your ear on his chest. Although covered under expensive fabrics of his outfit, you could evidently hear his strong heartbeat. Fast, loud and clear. 

"...but why do you look unbothered at all?" You slowly whispered your honest thoughts.

"I felt this ever since the first time I saw you, of course I'm used to it now." He replied with an amused grin on his lips.

"...and besides, I'm entirely entranced by you. How then would I notice my own heartbeat?" He mused effortlessly.

"...ugh. stop talking like that." For once, you didn't keep your thoughts a secret. 

He laughed at your reaction but ever so slowly raised a hand just to gently stroke the back of your head. The locks of your hair through his fingers has his mind completely charmed by the silkiness of your hair. 

"I take it that you still prefer me over anyone else for granting me to hold you at this distance" he gently whispered. 

You were the person who could easily make him feel nervous, anxious, worried and desperate without even saying a word to him. If it was before the day he saw you, he could've easily reminded himself that love was useless and unnecessary for all he knew, he already has all the people that are important to him. Clearly, things have changed since then… 

"My options are scarce when it comes to acquiring the expectations I require." You replied seemingly revealing the calmness in your voice once more. Perhaps listening to his heartbeat does bring you a sense of comfort.

"I'm just glad your expectations haven't reached out towards the moon. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to fulfil your demands" 

Much to his own liking, he wouldn't be able to have you by his side if it wasn't for all the gamble and efforts he has made. 

You laughed at the thought, finding it rather amusing when things he described become a little overly exaggerating.

"I'm more than satisfied with what I have now, Ayato." You eventually replied before securely wrapping both of your arms around his torso. 

"So do I". He nodded as a wide smile slowly spread across his face.

[ Returning from Inazuma city ]

The sky was cloudy, completely covering the late afternoon sun glares. It might rain but the both of you weren't the least worried. You were carrying a nicely wrapped parcel while he was holding a wagasa.

"How much was the bracelet?"

"Hmm… I seem to miss out on that"

Earlier, you've only been having a leisure stroll along with Ayato. There wasn't much to do, so you thought window-shopping wouldn't be a bad idea. Walking in and out of a few shops just to look at trinkets until you walked inside an accessory shop. One bracelet in particular has caught your attention.

Ayato on the other hand wasn't looking for anything in particular but he would be occasionally observing your every little gesture. Looking at how your eyes were fixed on one particular item for more than thirty seconds, he already knew what he should get for you.

The bracelet was expensive for a normal working class but on the contrary, he wasn't the slightest staggered by the price. He was just glad to buy something that you really liked. After all, even you didn't hesitate to buy him a luxurious gift the last time he visited your homeland.

"You’re just refusing to tell me"

"How is it supposed to be a gift if you're going to ask the price?"

Eventually, you resigned from the thought of repaying him. It can't be helped, it's only natural for you to let him.

"I was going to buy it myself… but alright, it's considered a gift then"

He smiled, as he walked side by side with you. The gentle wind softly swept the side of his hair.

You suddenly tilted your head, only to feel a second droplet of rain on your skin. A small smile appeared on your lips, seemingly revealing pure joy that emanated from your heart.

"Do you still remember that day when we got caught up in the rain?"

You eyed him from the side as he only nodded his head still displaying the same soft smile.

"My dear sister would blame me for getting you drenched, but if you insist… I would be glad to accept your offer" 

You haven't suggested anything and yet his thoughts are very much in sync with your way of thinking. Much to your own liking, he's quite supporting of these unspoken ideas that were already brewing inside your ever so calm mind. 

On that late afternoon, the wagasa was left unopened even until the both of you safely made it back to the estate with a joyous smile.

The servants were horrified, Ayaka was left speechless and Thoma was facepalming himself because he thought he gave a broken wagasa to his Lord.

Expensive Kimono all drenched and yet you're not sure what's more enjoyable. Is it the reaction from the people that stood before you or the act of walking under the rain with leisure? Surely no one was enjoying the outcome except the both of you. Should either of you get sick... it would be a bad outcome.

The group of servants who's now dedicated to serving you got into working real quick and ushered you inside. They prepare warm bath water and a set of clothes.

Once you are done, they then bring you back to the main room. The room was already done, every furniture and decorations were placed in perfect arrangements. You were still trying to carefully inspect the room when this tall person literally stood before you. Despite it all, you bend half of your body to the left side just to take a look at the book of shelves behind him.

"What has caught your attention now?" He raised a brow as his left arm pulled your waist towards him and he laced his right hand with yours.

"Those books… aren't those mine?"

Every book that is written by you would have a distinct golden colored tassel that is included and tied at the book's backbone. It was one of Lady Yae's promotion ideas, hence why you recognized it by a glance. After all, you have all the copies of the final published version, it's difficult not to recognize it. 

He looked over his shoulder towards the shelves that were placed at the far end of the spacious room. 

"Left shelf is yours, mine is on the right" he turns to meet your gaze once more with a proud smile.

It just happened that those books are all arranged in the right shelf. How convenient… he basically has all the copies of books you've written.

"You actually bought it all, you should've just borrowed mine."

"It's called early investment." He confidently spoke, seemingly satisfied with the outcome.

It didn't occurred to you that he didn't only read your books but also kept the whole collection.

"Is that so…"

"Mmm…" His hand that was once on your waist is now on the side of your head. He then gently bought your hand towards him with his other hand.

In that second your brain can no longer function when he so suddenly and yet unhurriedly pressed his lips on your slender fingers, from your fingertips to your knuckles and lastly on the back of your hand. His warm breath still ghosted your skin even after he had your hand placed in between his cheeks and his palm.

It's the second time today that you can hear your own heartbeat thumping against your chest. Your state of calmness has once again seeped away from your own control. He has yet again caught you off guard. 

"I'm yours…" he whispered earnestly, his eyes closed shut with a slight frown as if struggling to convey such words to you. His subtle smooth skin against the surface of your palm felt slightly cool and yet warmth slowly came in contact with your senses once he pressed your hand endearingly. 

Unthinkingly, you decided to slowly run your fingers through the side of his fluffy hair with your other free hand as you gradually forgot about your own heartbeat. He often claims that you bought him peace… it's probably not merely a statement for you now because holding him does ease your thoughts. 

Moreover, it feels gratifying that you're the person who's preferred by him. The only person who's granted his heart and soul. To see him like this, attempting to make you understand how much he adores you, makes you feel a little concerned… because he should've known how much you preferred him too. 

"...likewise." you slowly whispered with a soft smile.

His tall height compared to yours was a little tedious but despite that you decided to tiptoe to come closer and swiftly pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. Just a little bit of affection, not too much but just the right amount. At least that's what you thought…

Ayato opened his eyes in surprise as he felt your lips brushed against his. His eyes widened as he witnessed the genuine sweet smile on your lips. His heart almost stopped, he couldn't breathe and for a second he almost lost his cool. Being the man who wished and dreamed to receive that particular gesture from you has had his mind cease to function. It was such an exceptional experience for him.

All in all, he recovered way faster before you could even tease him. Unlike earlier today when you made fun of him after merely saying those sweet words. 

A soft smile slowly crept across his face as his eyes glistened with hopefulness. 

"May we redo that again?" 

-------[ The End ]------

Check out the [ Story List ] for the other sequence in Inexpressible Series

A/N: The final sequence and the happy ending version. After a year its done, I wouldn't be able to finish this without all the love and support. Thank you for reading everyone >.<  but ofc I’ll still be writing about them in short story as usual. I have a lot of drafts about them fr

One day when we finally reach the cold nation in game, I’ll definitely be reminiscing about this series.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Unexpected Reunion (short story)

Shallowfig’s chest heaved with panic, his mind whirled as his eyes tried desperately to find movement in the undergrowth around his den. Surely his kits couldn’t have gotten too far? He itched to run after them as soon as possible, but Racemekit was still inside, and he didn’t want to leave him alone. What should he do? Stay with his son or go after his three lost kits?

Making up his mind, he dragged branches of the nearest bushes to block the entrance, then darted away–or planned to, but just as he turned around, he saw his kits stumbling on their little legs toward him. He was more relieved than he had ever been, that was certain, but now what made him freeze was who had accompanied them. A face he had not seen since kithood, yet that had always occupied his brain.

Banshee didn’t say anything, apparently just as surprised to see Shallowfig. 

“Daaad! You ‘twigged the ent-ance!” Tendrilkit complained loudly, breaking the silence. Shallowfig wordlessly moved to pull the branches out of the way. 

“These are your kits?” Banshee asked. It was strange hearing her voice after so long, and so different from how Shallowfig long remembered it. He realized that the same could probably be said for Banshee when he answered. 

“Go inside,” Shallowfig told his kits, shooing them in with his tail. “Yes,” He said to Banshee, turning around to sit.

Banshee shuffled her paws. “They were pretty far from home.”

Shallowfig flattened his ears. Was Banshee accusing him of being a bad father? “They slipped away while I was distracted. I was looking for herbs.”

“Oh. Are you a medicine cat now?”

“No, one of my kits is sick,” Shallowfig replied, glancing sorrowfully at his den.

Banshee’s eyes rounded sympathetically. “Is it….bad?”

“I’ve asked everyone I know who works with the ill. They all say it’s benign, but he’s had–whatever it is that he has since before he opened his eyes.”

Banshee paused for a heartbeat, then padded forward. Shallowfig’s fur rose suspiciously, but he allowed Banshee to get close. She came to a stop beside Shallowfig, pressing her pelt comfortably against his. Shallowfig let out a long, heavy breath. “What does their mother say?”

“Nothing. Gone”

He felt Banshee stiffen against him. “I’m so sorry for your lo–”

“Not dead. We were never as close as mates should be. The kits, blessings as they are, were an accident. We decided to break things off before they were born. She would stay until they were weaned, then I’d take them in.”

“Oh..so you’re raising them by yourself?”

“The family offers help,” Shallowfig replied, feeling the rough aches in his shoulders. He wasn’t sure they would ever fully go away. He doubted it.

“Doesn’t seem like enough.”

“No, then again, kits always sneak out.”

Banshee nodded slowly. “Yeah. I slipped from my mother’s nose more than a few times. Of course, you already knew about that.” She smiled fumbly. 

Shallowfig suspected this would come up, still it caught him off guard and he was unable to think of a reply. 

“I even snuck out a lot more than I was supposed to, really. There wasn’t much of a point to it, though. It wasn’t like who I was running to meet waited for me anymore.”

Shallowfig felt mingled feelings of guilt and irritation. They were kits! Couldn’t Banshee let that go? At the same time, Shallowfig had never truly forgotten their friendship either, or the guilt he had held for abandoning it. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled tensely. “I never did apologize for that, did I?”

“I’m more interested in an explanation,” Banshee admitted, sounding awkward. “I just–want to know.”

“I get that,” Shallowfig responded. “My family found out where I was going. They would have found out sooner, but my nephews and nieces were helping me keep the secret. It was fine until they found out….” he trailed off. How should he tell Banshee about her mother?

“Found out?” Banshee prompted.

“They said that your mother was dangerous. That she was the one to…do you remember when I told you about my brother and sister? The ones with the scars?”

“That…! That can’t be right!” Banshee trembled. 

“You told me your mother’s name was Plague, right?”

Once again, Banshee stiffened. She was silent and still for so long that Shallowfig would have thought that she had died from shock if he couldn’t feel her breathing against him. “Dark stars,” she finally exclaimed. “I thought you just grew tired of me–I never would have thought!--I didn’t think you were afraid!”

“It was my brother’s fear more than mine,” Shallowfig explained, heart twitching at the memory. “He wasn’t okay when he heard about us. If we could meet, it meant she wasn’t too far away, and he was really scared. I couldn’t give your family a reason to want to stay as close as you did. I’m sorry.”

Banshee’s eyes met his, glistening with shock and misery and too many things to name. Then she laughed a heavy, beaten sound. “Look at me! Complaining about how we parted as kits when you just told me your own kit was sick. How pathetic!”

“Enough of that!” Shallowfig snapped, rising. 

Banshee smiled. “I see you’re still defensive of friends who speak badly about themselves.”

Shallowfig blinked, then sat back down. “I guess I am.”

Something seemed to cross Banshee’s mind. She rushed to her paws. “I overstayed my welcome,” she realized. “I should go.”

“No!” Shallowfig exclaimed before he could stop himself. “Uh–I mean. Yeah, you probably have a family to get back to, huh?”

Silence. “I don’t.”

“Oh. That’s goo–Uhm. Okay.”

Banshee smiled softly. “Be seeing you.”

“Yeah. Be seeing you.”

–

For a little bit, curled in his nest with his kits clambering on top of him, Shallowfig’s perpetual emptiness was a little lighter, a little more far away, like a rainstorm that had been looming over him had passed, distant enough now for his fur to avoid the rain, but close enough for the cold weather to bite his skin. 

He hadn’t expected to run into Banshee again, nor for their meeting to bring him such warmth. Sure, he had imagined their reunion quite a few times as a kit, and a few more as an apprentice, and, alright, once or twice as a warrior. But they had been kits then. Even if they could be friends now, which still didn’t feel all too likely, it wasn’t like they would be….

“I smell fish!” Tendrilkit’s high-pitched voice broke into his thoughts, and perhaps broke Shallowfig’s ear. 

“Don’t be silly,” Shallowfig yawned. “Come here, you got dirt all over your fur.” He held a squirming Tendrilkit between his paws and resisted the urge to rest his eyes, as he knew he would only fall asleep again. 

More awake now, a scent caught his nose. Fish? Was Tendrilkit right?

“Stay here,” He instructed the four little ones, before going to poke his head out of the den. A pile of minnows on the ground greeted him. Banshee stood just behind them, sharp-smelling herbs dripping from her jaws. She set them down. “I thought maybe you would like some help?”

The corners of Shallowfig’s lips curled upward. He nodded to the inside. “Come in!”

==========================

@elementaldeityoffood

--I like to think that the reason they both felt such strong feelings about their relationship, even in adulthood, is that when they were together, they felt like they could be themselves. Their greatest supporter was the other, they felt the best they could be when they were with each other. 

The exact memories may fade away (some stay), but that feeling stays with you, and with it’s gone, you only wish for it to come back.

--Shallowfig has four kits! One son (Racemekit [ra-seem]), and three she-cats. So far Tendrilkit is the only one I named.

--Shallowfig lives in a half-buried rock formation. His family suggested blocking the entrance with thorns, but he thought they were too dangerous for the kits. He adds them when they’re older.

[olddirtybadfic]

if this ship sinks, i won't blame the mermaids for eating my fingers off

I may have blueshipped too close to the vortex. Now I'm spiraling in a whirlpool of horny Gyarados and the submarine really isn't helping matters.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Meowth was a sucker for round things. In his gravid state, James fit the description to a “T.”

He gazed across the bed. James was laid out on his back, the moonlight from the window falling on the rise of his kitten bump. His hair fanned out over the pillow like so much blue silk. A slender hand nestled against his lower belly. A moon-pale, delicate foot poked out from under the sheets.

He let his eyes rest on that foot, with its finely shaped arch and soft toes. James often complained about the appearance of his swollen feet, but Meowth saw things differently. The few harsh angles were softened, emphasizing the smoothness of James’s skin. But maybe he was just so attracted to James, it didn’t matter what his feet looked like.

Meowth remembered the experiment that started this whole thing. They’d been asked by Team Rocket labs to participate in a special breeding experiment to determine if humans and Pokémon could interbreed. Since their team wasn’t exactly bringing in the powerful Pokémon, the higher-ups figured they could at least be useful as test subjects.

The fact that Meowth and James had already started a Pokébestial relationship was merely a bonus.

He let his mind drift back to their first breeding attempt. His Jimmy had been a virgin before the relationship, but he learned quick (at least when it came to sex). Within a few tries, Meowth had him squealing so loud, they probably woke the whole forest. Jessie invested in a comfortable set of earplugs after the first few times.

Meowth could hear the falsetto moan James had let out when he slid into him. He could almost get drunk on the memory of that potent perfume of roses, Victreebel saliva, and human pheromones that made up James’s signature scent. As James rolled his hips, the sides of his entrance caressed Meowth’s dick in a warm, wet embrace.

He remembered how James had gripped the sheets as he plunged deeper. James was panting like he’d pedaled the Magikarp sub around the entire Orange Archipelago. The pheromones radiated from hair as blue and wet as any ocean while Meowth plumbed James’s depths.

“Blast me off, Meowth,” James was moaning. “Blast me sky high so I can fall pregnant back to earth!”

So Meowth just started blasting.

That seemed to send James into orbit. His eyelashes fluttered and he twitched all over like he was getting shocked by Pikachu. Meowth vaguely remembered James biting the back of his fingers, as if he needed to balance the pleasure with pain. Meowth couldn’t be sure that was what was happening, though. He was wrapped up in his own climax as he planted his seed in James.

In that moment, he understood completely why Victreebel always wanted a taste of James. The smells coming off of James were sweeter than any Sweet Scent he’d faced in battle (not that he’d been in many battles; Meowth considered himself a different kind of Pokémon).

The scent reminded Meowth that it was now his cue to grab James’s dick and roll it between his paws. Gently, of course—his Jimmy was very sensitive. Just a few swivels were enough to push him over the edge.

Cats excelled at pushing things over the edge.

James’s rocket blasted off spectacularly. The ropes shot out like he’d just deployed a Poké-napping net. By the time he was spent, it looked like a Spinarak shot web across his stomach.

Meowth fell into the spot beside James as both of them basked in the afterglow. Meowth was purring. James was purring. Meowth grabbed James’s hand in his paw. James let out a barely audible sigh.

After they’d calmed down a bit, James had looked down at his stomach. “I made such a mess,” he said in mock remorse.

Meowth had rolled over to watch James clenchingly make his way to the bathroom. He didn’t know why, but he fixated on the pearls of jism rolling down James’s thigh. Probably because they, too, were round. Meowth was always a sucker for round things.

Over the next few weeks, it took them a few more tries, but eventually Meowth knocked James up. And here they were now.

Meowth was brought out of his reverie by a soft yawn. James shifted in his sleep, then opened his eyes and gave Meowth a smoldering half-smile. The half-mast eyelids and pheromone cocktail fanned the two green flames.

His Jimmy was rustled.

-O-o-O-

The heat was rising within James. The urge was upon him again.

James knew he wasn’t really in heat, of course. He was still pregnant, and humans didn’t go into heat, anyway. But as of late, he’d been feeling as though he might start caterwauling if Meowth didn’t stick him right then and there.

Ever since James had entered the latter weeks of his pregnancy, his hormones had been driving him mad. He and Meowth hadn’t copulated since it started and James had discovered quickly that certain desires did not wane, even after they’d served their purpose. His libido was somewhat dampened in the early stages, however. It was hard to get in the mood when one was virtually a vomit fountain.

Fortunately for him, his morning sickness subsided as the gestation wore on. Now his only issue was that he was too sleepy to think about sex.

No…. That wasn’t quite right. James had enjoyed a number of erotic dreams over the past few weeks. They ran the gamut from simple but sweet (James, clapping his buttocks on Meowth’s cock in a sort of anal applause) to stimulating and steamy.

One such fantasy transpired thus. James had washed up, sans raiment, on an unknown shore. The population appeared to consist entirely of tiny talking Meowths. Their Lilliputian leader was a hot air balloonist and announced that he wished to welcome the nude giant. He climbed into a hot air balloon with a phallus affixed to the basket. Just as he was about to dock it in the cave on James’s backside, a tidal wave sprang up from the ocean. James had woken up drenched in sweat. He also needed to change the sheets.

Another saw him as a fiery Moltres, soaring high above the earth. Meowth bounded after him in hot pursuit. James swooped down, flames trailing behind, and landed in a circle of flaming stones. There, he waited and watched as Meowth caught up to him. Meowth marched right into the ring of fire, the words “I am the unburnt,” on his lips. He rode James the Moltres, but not through the sky. James woke from that one feeling very flaming indeed.

Yet another flight of fancy put him in a hall of mirrors in front of a Jack-in-the-Box. Though the reflections were distorted, James could make out that he was sporting pigtails and a clown nose. In place of a crank, the Jack-in-the-Box bore a perfect replica of Meowth’s penis. James instinctively knew to massage the penis on the box. Out popped Meowth, dressed in a harlequin print jester costume. 

At that point in the dream, James’s nipples began to throb; he looked down and saw that they had transformed into bright red orbs, a funhouse mirror image of his clown nose. Meowth seemed intrigued by this; he put his paws on James’s nipples and gently squeezed. Each squeeze produced a honking sound and an arc of milk that Meowth caught in his mouth. James’s nethers were a flower squirting a liquid that was decidedly not seltzer. James awakened from that one with a tent in his pajamas and his teats tender and leaking.

He also had a craving for cream pie and Meowth was the only chef with the recipe.

Back in the present, James felt a flush rise on his face. He was hit by a sudden rush of shame at his loss of mental control, their failure to capture Pikachu, even his dreadful lack of sexual knowledge before the experiment. Meowth practically had to explain sex to him, since his parents hadn’t seen fit to. So many shames; it rhymed with James.

Meowth must have read it on his face. “No, Jimmy,” he said, placing a comforting set of paws on James’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You got needs, too.” Meowth’s voice was gentle, but James could hear undertones of reciprocal rut. The timing was perfect.

“I need you, Meowth. Right now.”

James didn’t need to ask twice. Meowth helped him out of his pajamas—no easy feat, considering how swollen James was at the moment, even with the lubricious luster his lust did muster. Verily, the sweat might have hindered Meowth’s removal of James’s clothing. Waiting only made James more randy. In his delirium, he found himself half whispering, half chanting, “Come, kitty. Come, kitty.”

Meowth chuckled. “We’ll get dere, Jimmy. Don’t getcha panties in a knot.”

“Growlithes have knots,” James thought. “But Meowth has a French tickler dick.” He’d learnt that the first time they coupled. He wondered if Meowth could control each individual nodule, like a Tentacruel and its tentacles. He could never quite remember to ask.

He couldn’t very well ask with Meowth’s lips pressing against his. And as soon as Meowth’s musk wafted into his nose, he forgot completely. The human sense of smell was not as strong as a Meowth’s, but the pregnancy hormones had sharpened James’s nose. Notes of catnip stood out in a scent stream sweeter than that tree sap Victreebel and Heracross loved.

“Like da taste?” Meowth asked, lapping at James’s chin.

“Yes,” James breathed. Baked tuna: James had cooked it for their dinner that evening.

Meowth worked his way down, giving ample attention to James’s nipples. No honking resulted; the only sounds were Meowth’s sucking and James’s low moaning as Meowth’s tongue nodules dandled James's dugs.

“Like the taste?” James drawled.

Meowth grinned. “Your milk’s comin’ in early.”

Meowth moved ever southward, brushing over the great dome that housed their five kittens. James giggled as Meowth rubbed himself all over the sensitive swelling.

“Oh, James, you’re so round.” Meowth swirled his tail around James’s sides. He tongued James’s navel, the nodules tracing the feathery white stretch marks.

James barely heard him. “Goodness gracious….”

“You ain’t seen nuttin’ yet.” Meowth slid himself into James’s crotch. He lifted James’s penis and nudged a feline finger into the orifice beneath. Those kitty beans on his pork sword were getting James nice and marinated.

Meowth noticed instantly. “You’re soaked. Lucky for you, I love dis kinda wet.”

Meowth dove in headfirst. James let out a cry of pleasure as he felt the nodules on his inner walls. He rolled his hips as much as his condition would allow. Meowth gyrated his own hips, causing his penis to stir inside of James like a spoon in cake batter. James kegeled on Meowth’s cock. Would that he had grippers in his nethers; he could massage every node on Meowth’s dick.

Meowth threw his head back, his whiskers fanning around his face. “I’m comin’, Jimmy!” he declared to the stars above. “I think it’s time!” His tail whipped around like a helicopter’s blade.

James was too far-gone to stay quiet. “Fill me with your white tomorrow!” he cried.

Meowth filled James like a cream pastry. James nipped at the back of his forefinger joints. It did little to curb his enthusiasm. He hoped Jessie’s earplugs held up.

But, oh. Oh no. His own cannoli was about to go explody. He’d forgotten to put on protection; he’d have such a mess to clean up and, in his state, he didn’t know if he’d have the energy.

Meowth seemed to notice his mild distress. “Don’t worry, Jimmy. I gotcha.” He pulled out of James and disappeared below the bump.

“Bless him,” James thought, tears misting his eyes. “He’s going to save me the cleanup.” 

Meowth closed his mouth around James’s penis and commenced the fellatio. He was always such a sucker for round things.

-O-o-O-o-O-

*puts on clown nose, walks plank, lands in James and Meowth's sex sweat* TONIGHT WE DINE ON DOVE

[jodilinbio]

Stacey was my biggest problem at the first complex I lived in during my time in Arizona, along with twenty-six-year-old Andrea (Andi), the woman living next to me in Andy’s building. Through Andi, I got my first real sense of just how much Arizonans despise complaining, no matter how legitimate your grievance might be.

While I was still in the first-floor apartment, I had to give up Shadow, my cat, because pets weren’t allowed on the first floor. Even if they were, I couldn’t afford the outrageous pet deposit. So, Andy and I left the cat on what we thought was Stevie Nicks’ property in Paradise Valley, only to later learn we’d given him to her neighbor instead. Andy eventually figured out which house was really hers by going through her trash. He somehow became phone friends with Stevie’s mother, Barbara, after finding her number through her business—a little crafts store in some small town outside of Phoenix. He eventually went on to actually meet Stevie a few times.

Stacey had a reputation for being a difficult person, but one day, she began targeting me in ways I hadn’t seen her do with anyone else. To this day, I’m not sure what triggered her. I discussed it with Andy, Kara, and Randy, but none of us could figure out the source of her wrath. Maybe it was because I was Jewish (Arizona was as anti-Semitic as it was anti-gay), maybe it was because I was on disability, or maybe it was because I was short with green eyes and very long hair. I honestly had no idea.

Then, I developed a theory: some people, when they can’t get positive attention, settle for negative attention. Perhaps Stacey really did have some kind of attraction to me and was struggling with those feelings, especially since she was married. Others had speculated about this too, particularly after it became clear that she was practically stalking me. This wasn’t an exaggeration—she followed me around the complex, and it felt like she was scrutinizing my every move. I was stunned by how much she seemed to know about my whereabouts and the people I interacted with. My friends and I even searched my place for hidden cameras or audio recorders, but we found nothing. The only way she could have known what she did was by either tailing me, having someone else do it, or somehow gaining access to my apartment while I was out. I doubted that last one, but who knows?

I’ll admit Stacey wasn’t bad-looking for a light-eyed blonde, which wasn’t usually my type. She was tall and slim, with a Kate Jackson vibe—her voice, hairstyle, and mannerisms all reminded me of her. But even if she had been my type, I knew I’d rather be alone forever than settle for a controlling bitch like her.

One day, Stacey summoned both Andy and me to her office. Oddly, she insisted on speaking to Andy first, then me.

"Why can’t she just talk to both of us at once?" I asked Andy on our way there.

"I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t want us to get our stories straight," he said.

"What stories?" I asked, confused.

"I don’t know," he said. "I’m just as stumped as you are."

Andy went in first, and then it was my turn. I sat down in front of her desk, and Stacey cut right to the chase.

"I have a report that you made some harassing phone calls to Ellie and Robert," she said.

"So?" I replied.

"So," she echoed, pausing.

"So I called them a few times. They won’t be hearing from me again, though. Besides, Ellie’s out of her mind. Ask the FBI agents trying to kill her with petroleum jelly as she claims."

"Then don’t have anything to do with her," Stacey said.

"I don’t intend to, but how does this concern you? You’re the manager, not our mother. Part of our rent goes toward your salary. You work for us."

She then mentioned some supposed vandalism but wouldn’t say what had been vandalized. I had no idea what she was talking about, and neither did Andy.

Next, she scolded me for asking to see the second studio apartment I had transferred to in Andy’s building before the previous tenant moved out. I couldn’t believe someone would complain about something so trivial! The girl didn’t have to let me in, and she hadn’t seemed bothered at the time.

Then, Stacey implied that I had been trying to invite people up to my place. I was completely confused. "What are you talking about? What people?"

"I understand that being home as much as you are can make a person rather lonely," she said, her tone patronizing.

"Oh, is that what you think I am? Lonely? And this concerns you because…?" I asked, beginning to realize what she was insinuating. She was implying that I was trying to get women up to my place for sex, which was total nonsense. No one in that complex appealed to me. After Rosemarie made her lack of interest clear, I backed off immediately. I didn’t want to push people who weren’t interested in me, and I expected the same respect in return.

Though I tried, I couldn’t get Stacey to admit what she was really implying. She never dared to use the L-word.

She also rattled off a bunch of trivial facts about my daily life, things like what I had for lunch, and this unnerved me. I was amazed at how well she had done her homework. With the exception of the vandalism and the absurd insinuation about my social life, she was frighteningly accurate.

Andy later told me he was just as shocked by Stacey’s knowledge of my activities. "She even encouraged me to dump you," he said.

On January 6, 1993, I finally decided to see about getting a job dancing. I didn’t have any marketable skills that would land me a decent job anytime soon, and I wasn’t about to flip burgers or clean houses again. Dancing seemed like a good option. Kara, who was a pretty big woman, acted as my bodyguard, and the three of us—Kara, Andy, and I—went to a nearby club with exotic dancers.

After just two dances and $18 in tips, I was hired for the 6 PM to 1 AM shift. I was excited, thinking I’d make tons of money, but it didn’t turn out that way. Maybe in Vegas it would have.

I eventually built up a small group of regular cab drivers. One of them even offered to be my bodyguard if I ever made it in the music business, and I gladly agreed.

Though dancing was preferable to most other jobs, there were downsides. I hated the sore feet and the way the owners used us to pay the DJ, bartenders, and bouncers. We had to give them a cut of our earnings because the owners were too cheap to pay them themselves.

At the clubs, we rotated sets on stage, where customers could tip us—or not. Table dances, one-on-one performances in front of a customer, earned the dancers $5. Dancers weren’t allowed to touch the customers or engage in anything explicit.

My stage name was "Mystery." Maybe if I had been a chesty, blue-eyed blonde with long legs, I would have made more money. But as a then flat, short, green-eyed brunette, I didn’t exactly fit the bill for a T&A bar. Still, I danced on and off for the next eight months at a few different places, including all-nude private room dancing with two-way windows, cameras, and armed staff. We often sat around for hours in between customers, bored out of our minds in front of the TV.

After I moved to the studio apartment behind Andy, I started accumulating some furniture. My parents sent me a blue card table with matching chairs. A friend of Andy’s gave me a twin bed, and a guy I met later on gave me a couch, a desk, and a TV.

At first, the building was relatively quiet. The guy below me eventually moved out, giving me a few things he didn’t want, like clothes hangers and a fake plant in a wicker basket. For a while, the apartment below me was a model unit, and the new tenant who moved in was quiet. Even Andi didn’t make much noise initially. She was hardly ever home.

The person I heard the most in the building was actually Andy. Despite his feminine demeanor, he stomped around like an elephant and slammed doors instead of closing them.

I had yet to learn just how sensitive Arizonans could be about noise complaints, but I started to get an idea when Andi had her fifteen siblings over for a few days. It was a nightmare—constant bumps and bangs at all hours. After being ignored when I knocked on her door to ask her to quiet down, I had no choice but to complain to Stacey.

Mary, a thirty-year-old woman with muscular dystrophy who lived directly below Andi, also complained. She was getting the worst of it. Mary informed Stacey that if she wanted her rent, she needed to be able to sleep so she could work for it.

Even Andy, who lived diagonally from Andi, could hear the commotion. The whole building shook.

When Stacey came to investigate, Andi tried to shift the blame. Our doors were right next to each other and standing just inside mine, I could hear everything they said.

"She does the same thing," Andi lied.

Right, Andi, I thought sarcastically. I have fifteen kids over, too.

The next day, the kids finally left, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking peace had returned and I could finally get some sleep. But I was sorely mistaken. Andi was furious that I had complained, and she wasn’t about to let me forget it. That was lesson number two about Arizonans: they weren’t quick to let go of grudges. They wouldn’t let you forget or ignore them either, no matter how wrong they were or how valid your complaint was. She was going to get her revenge!

Andi made sure to shake the building with her every move when she wasn’t at work or asleep, clearly not caring who else she annoyed along with me. She began staying home more frequently, just to make her presence felt. Since I knew I couldn’t physically force her to quiet down, and Stacey couldn’t monitor every slam, bump, and bang, I was seriously considering confronting her when a new idea popped into my head.

I doubted it would work, but I figured I’d try it before resorting to more drastic measures. So, I sat down and wrote a note, pretending to be a neighbor who had just moved in behind her, politely asking her to keep the noise down. I signed it with a bogus name and slipped it under her door.

To my surprise, it actually worked!