#and like im not holding it against anyone obviously i myself barely remember my own birthday let alone other peoples

[just-spacetrash]

🫥

[tastyykpop]

[ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ʜɪᴍ]

Pairings: mafia boss!jaehyun x reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

Warnings: dom!jaehyun, brat!reader, yandere themes, orgasm denial, slight edging (like really slight), thigh slapping, ropes, vibrator, punishment kinda, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe 🙏)

The glass in Jaehyuns hand shattered as he saw another man approach you. He was beyond pissed. Mostly at you honestly. You were basically letting it happen because to you, this was all fun and games.

It shouldn't be though.

Jaehyun was a dangerous man. Someone you really shouldn't be around and someone who had a lot of power, over anything and everyone. Most people were terrified of him and only idiots would dare to speak out of line. And if they were lucky, maybe, just maybe they'd make it out alive.

It all happened when you came to this bar for a good drink and a slight buzz. But here, there was always someone hitting on you. This someone happened to be Jaehyun. It was the first time you met him too. Unfortunately, like the idiot you were (and still are), you talked back to him. It wasnt because you were trying to be rude, but instead you were fed up with the way he was acting towards you. The small brushes on the shoulder and the hand on your knee was getting on your nerves. But what really annoyed you were his comments. Not realising who he was and the power he had, you got angry and gave him back handed comments.

You only stopped when you felt a sting to your thigh.

Luckily for you it was only a slap. Not a knife or a bullet. Jaehyun was never this gentle.

Everytime after that, you would still come back to the bar, in your usual seating and Jaehyun would always be there. He even remembered your favorite drink after the first few nights. How sweet. But now, he was seated away from you with a group of men, watching your every move since he couldnt be with you at the moment.

"Baby that dress looks so pretty on you." The guy sitting next to you commented. His tongue swiping over his lips to coat them in his own saliva.

"Hmm thanks." You smiled, knowing that an angry Jaehyun was watching you like a hawk from across the bar.

The man's hand began to slither up your thigh, dragging his hand up and down. It was nothing like Jaehyuns rough, yet loving hands.

"I want to get to know you more." You turned your head to face the man and raised an eyebrow. "Come home with me."

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to say no." You took a quick swig of your drink and smiled.

"Come on baby. It'll be worth your time." The man took your hands into his and brought them to his lips.

Jaehyun was going to kill someone today.

"Im sorry," you pulled your hand away, giggling, "but I said no." The man was still relentless, grabbing your hand and placing it on his bulge. Your eyes lit up and you searched around the room to see if anyone was seeing what was going on, stopping on your boyfriend's cold eyes.

Jaehyun got up from his seat, walking towards you. Your hand pulled away like lightning. A groan coming from the man next to you. Panic filled your body as you knew someone was going to get killed, or injured.

An angry Jaehyun is not a good Jaehyun. Especially if someone touched his girlfriend. And he let that go too far.

"Whats my pretty girl doing?" Jaehyun pulled your hair to the side and lightly kissed your neck. It was odd hearing such a soft voice come out of Jaehyun, yet you could feel how pissed he was.

"I-i was just talking..." His hands grabbed your waist, digging his nails deep into your side. Jaehyun wasnt an idiot, but you tried.

"And who the fuck are you?" The man asked. You actually forgot he was still there. But he wasn't going to be for long, Jaehyun ripped out a gun and pointed it at the man before making sure the safety was off.

"The real question is who are you?"

"I-i..." the man stuttered, obviously threatened by the weapon in your boyfriends hand.

"I dont like waiting." Jaehyun cocked the gun.

"I-im no one s-sir my apologies." The man walked away as quickly as he could from the both of you. Jaehyun snickering at how pathetic he was.

"Im gonna killed him for touching you."

"No, you wont. You can't always hurt someone who talks or touches me."

"Dont talk back to me, im not in the mood." You got up from the bar stool and walked with Jaehyun to his car. A very expensive one at that.

"I dont care if your in the mood stop acting like a bitch." Your sparky comment took all of Jaehyuns power to not bend you over and spank you in public.

"Get in the car Y/N."

"No." Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned and walked away. That set Jaehyun off.

You were suddenly in the backseat of his car, your face pushed against the seat and your ass in the air. The dress you were wearing was barely covering anything anymore.

"Listen here you pathetic little slut," he whisped in your ear, "if i tell you to get in the fucking car you listen, understand?"

You tried to get out of the grip he had on you, but it was no use. It just earned you a smack.

"Stop moving and answer me."

"Yes." A sigh left your mouth as he let go of you and walked to the drivers seat, starting the car. Leaving you in the back flustered.

"Come on pretty girl you can take it."  Jaehyun was currently fucking you with a vibrator. The vibrations sending you over the edge as he kept moving it in and out at a slow pace. You grabbed his arm and dug your nails deep into him, hoping that he'd stop punishing you and fuck you for real.

"P-please.." You begged as you squirmed on the bed from all the edging he was doing.

Jaehyun ignored you and picked up his pace. The room was filled with a mix or screaming, moaning, and wet sounds, just how he likes it.

He pulled you in for a rough kiss, teeth clashing with each other. The rougher he was, the more passionate he was with you.

"Im gonna cum." You moaned out, pulling away from the deep kiss, having enough of all the toying from the man above you.

"No youre not." He ripped the toy out of you, ruining your orgasm.

"Aw look at that baby, guess you won't cum again for another month."

You glared at the man as he sat there with a playful smirk before he moved on top of you, leaning down to bite and suck on your neck, leaving purple and blue marks on your skin as a whine left your lips. You wanted more, but knowing Jaehyun you probably weren't going to get it until he was satisfied enough. But you knew he was going to give up sooner or later. The boner brushing against your thigh was not going to go unnoticed by you.

"Stop...teasing..." You tried saying as Jaehyun moved back up to kiss you again.

"Why should i?" He looked up with an eyebrow raised, "You werent exactly the nicest to me. So why should I be nice to you?"

You frowned at the older man ready to talk back again, but the sudden cold hand cupping your hot entrance stopped you. The lower half of your body was almost grinding on his hand for more friction. Jaehyun noticed and smirked at your attempts to get off.

Smack.

"Dont even try that." He kept the same agonizing smirk on his face, giving him a more sadistic look than before. Your movement stopped with a pout and you watched Jaehyun take his hand away from your core.

"Then ill just do it myself." You pretty much just pushed Jaehyun away from you and attempted to please yourself, but you knew damn well it wasn't nearly as good as Jaehyun himself.

"Look at the pretty girl trying to act all tough." Jaehyun cooed at you, taking your hand away from your core and pinning your hands above your head. "Have i not been punishing you good enough? Is that why your acting even more bratty than usual?"

"No," you shook your head at your boyfriend, "its the fact you going to kill someone just because they touched me."

"Well i have a newsflash for you princess," Jaehyun leaned closer to your ear and whispered, "theyre already dead."

"Y-youre insane Jaehyun..."

"But thats why you love me." You watched as Jaehyun got off of you, moving to find something in the very large closet you both shared. When he turned back, you expected another toy he was going to tease you with, but no. He had ropes in his hand as he walked towards you with the same sadistic smirk that you hated yet loved.

He tied you up effortlessly, only giving him a few hard times but that only ended with a few smacks to your thigh.

Jaehyun stood back looking at your naked figure, a small blush painted your cheeks as you felt small under his gaze. Yes, Jaehyun was rather proud of what he was looking at. The beautiful hickeys and bite marks that littered your thighs, neck, and chest. The red hand prints on your thighs wrapping around to your ass. And the crescent shapes in your hips from his nails digging into your skin. He loved all of it.

You could hear the sound of clothes dropping to the floor, but didnt bother turning your head, too embarrassed to look at him now that you felt more exposed with the ropes holding your wrists to the bed post.

"Spread your legs for me princess." The sound of Jaehyuns voice brought you back to reality. You looked at him, his eyes staring into yours waiting for you to do as you were told. But did you didnt move. Just adding more fuel to his anger. "I said spread your fucking legs." He growled. You did so a bit too slowly for his liking and it only ended up with him forcefully spreading them himself.

A quiet gasp left your lips watching as he began to slowly grind into you, making you feel his bare cock against your pussy. Your sighs and moans filled the room, jaehyun watched closely, taking in every whine and movement you made. He pulled back and you waited for him to continue grinding but no, he was inside you without warning, not giving you anytime to adjust.

Jaehyuns fast pace shook the bed and your wrists were chaffing against the ropes. Moans erupted from your throat from the pain and pleasure Jaehyun was giving you.

"Fuck, Jaehyun...."

Jaehyun moved his hand from your hips up to your throat giving it a tight squeeze, "Such a dirty mouth." His hips snapped forward making your eyes roll to the back of your head and more cuss words were choked out. Earning a disappointed head shake from your boyfriend.

The lewd sounds of your bodies filled the room as he continued fucking you into oblivion. If someone walked in, they would be sure to have the image of you being fucked by Jaehyun with his fingers in your mouth and hand wrapped around your throat all while being tied up, stuck in their head for a few months.

"You love being a brat huh?" Jaehyun started whilst making eye contact, "Cause you know you'll be fucked like the pathetic slut you are. Am i right princess?"

He took his fingers out of your mouth to let you speak, "Y-yes." You moaned out. A quiet chuckle rang through your ears.

"Needy little brat..." His pace was faster yet sloppy and you knew he was close. The bed rocked and the sound of skin against skin filled your ears. Jaehyuns grip on your throat not planning on letting go as you struggled for breath.

"Jaehyun....p-please I'm gonna-"

"If you even dare cum ill beat your ass." That changed your thoughts about even bothering to let go, knowing he wasn't playing around.

Just as you felt like holding it in wasnt enough, Jaehyun was already one step ahead and came inside you, riding out his orgasm with a low groan.

Jaehyun pulled out, removing the ropes from your wrists. They were as red as your thighs and they stung too the touch. Jaehyun, being the nice man he is, even though he was still slighlty mad, took the time to give you after care, applying a cream to your wrists and butt just so the redness would calm down and cleaned up the cum dripping down your thighs.

After all that he laid beside you, embracing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. "My pretty girl." He muttered against your hair before the both of you drifted off to sleep. Although you were still angry that you couldnt cum.

[honeydots]

127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em. 

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be. 

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(ao3 link)

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He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream. 

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?” 

Maybe he was in a hospital. 

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning. 

But what did he know? 

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital.  As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made. 

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place. 

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure. 

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed. 

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet. 

And, he was already standing. 

It wasn’t hard to pull out. 

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.  

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last. 

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name? 

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone. 

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that. 

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital. 

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete. 

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials. 

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all. 

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in. 

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big. 

“Holy shit.” 

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.” 

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?” 

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?” 

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket. 

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?” 

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh…  Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. 

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?” 

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.” 

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.” 

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”  

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?” 

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however. 

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it? 

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.” 

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him. 

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones. 

He straightened himself up. “Okay.” 

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit. 

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious. 

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously. 

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like,  just a second, okay?” 

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road. 

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling.  He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him. 

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.” 

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like. 

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat. 

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.” 

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all. 

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took. 

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes. 

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”  

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed. 

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.” 

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before. 

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.” 

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished. 

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water. 

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,”  Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?” 

“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless. 

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.” 

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.” 

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had. 

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?” 

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life. 

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart. 

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into. 

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?” 

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn. 

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.” 

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store. 

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get. 

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories. 

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival. 

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head. 

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too. 

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.” 

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought. 

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all. 

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line. 

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out. 

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave. 

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no. 

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad. 

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him. 

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better. 

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection. 

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank. 

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him. 

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed. 

 Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too. 

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant. 

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead. 

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular. 

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore. 

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance. 

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all. 

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of  “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.” 

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.” 

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other. 

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck. 

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.” 

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

 “And can we go in?” 

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.” 

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic. 

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.” 

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.” 

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed. 

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one. 

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway. 

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep. 

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least. 

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure. 

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician? 

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though. 

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had. 

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging. 

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.” 

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands. 

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window. 

 The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.” 

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone. 

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression. 

“You didn’t say a word about notes 

on the phone, you know.” 

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.” 

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again. 

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.  

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.” 

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds. 

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital. 

Ohya held the key out to Goro. 

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?” 

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment. 

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said. 

“No sweat.” 

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure. 

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault. 

One more deep breath. 

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times. 

And it was nearly empty. 

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming. 

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it. 

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read. 

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471” 

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one. 

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind. 

This could’ve belonged to me. 

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself. 

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other. 

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next. 

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.” 

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning. 

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.  

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it. 

“To whom it may concern, 

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways. 

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one. 

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame. 

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep. 

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off. 

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key? 

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances. 

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards. 

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it. 

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in. 

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide. 

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat. 

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?” 

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?” 

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.” 

Good. “I need to speak with her.” 

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often. 

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area. 

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?” 

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.” 

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all. 

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked. 

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?” 

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.” 

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would. 

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.” 

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?” 

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically. 

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.” 

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.” 

“Out.” 

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over. 

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said. 

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on. 

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway. 

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?” 

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.” 

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him. 

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank. 

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud. 

Ohya gawked. 

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.” 

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.” 

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?” 

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.” 

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.” 

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top. 

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up. 

“We’ll see.” 

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Scales pt. 4a //yan!bakusquad fantasy au//

a/n: im so fuckin sorr this took so long lol, it was actually written but life was too crazy to edit/post. i had to make this angsty so it wouldnt turn out horny

Pt. 5

warnings: swearing, mature themes? mentions of past abuse/trauma

Things felt weirdly normal when you woke up, and despite the memories that flashed through your head you kept your cool. You needed to be logical, it was the only way you’d be able to get out of here alive. Denki was in your arms when you finally opened your eyes, and a weight lifted from your chest. Oh thank gods you were together. That made things easier. The room was… undoubtedly luxurious, Shigaraki sure knew how to play nice when he wanted. Horror shot through you when you saw the iron collar clamped around Denki’s neck. Fuck, you knew what that was. you’d seen it used before, and Denki wasn’t going to be able to help with it on. You’d need a diamond to get it off, unless you could get the key. Fucking Shigaraki, he’d be here soon to gloat. The fucker loved nothing more than being validated for what he’d done.

“I didn’t appreciate your little stunt.” Shigaraki finally showed his face, and your eyes narrowed as you stared at him from the bed.

“If you were bored you should have just told me. I thought you liked the solitude while I was busy, but obviously I was wrong.” He took a seat next to you and your skin crawled, had he gotten crazier? “But that’s all in the past now, and you have your own pet to keep you entertained.” Oh yeah he absolutely lost it while you were gone. You stayed silent as you watched his fingers trail over your leg to Denki’s sleeping form next to you. The threat was clear despite him staying silent. If you tried anything, he’d take it out on Denki.

“Thank you.” You had to force the words out, any feelings you had right now didn’t matter. You just needed to keep Denki safe, and that meant keeping Shigaraki happy until you could get away. It worked, his chapped lips stretched into a grin as he made himself comfortable besides you, showing no intention of leaving any time soon.

“They did WHAT?” Katsuki flung his sword across the room, the metal sending up a puff of feathers when it hit the bed. He’d just gotten back from a war meeting, and this was the first thing he had to hear?

“How dare that dry ass motherfucker send his cronies here, I’ll get Y/n and Denki back myself.” He snarled, and Hanta had to jump on him before he could leave .

“Katsuki, calm down, if you go rushing in it’ll only make the situation worse.” Mina crouched down, making sure she was in the blondes line of sight so he had no choice but to listen.

“Yeah man, Izuku can help, right?” Hanta added, still pinning Katsuki down. 

“And Shoto too, we have allies Katsuki, we don’t have to just rush in.” Mina glanced at Kiri, who nodded in agreement despite the fact he wanted nothing more than to bolt to wherever you were. He just needed to make sure you were safe. At least Denki was with you, the two of you could take care of each other for the time being, and it would be enough that the bond wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Fine, get them here, now! We need to do this quickly!” Katsuki gave in with a snarl, the more people he had to crush that extra, the better.

Fingers tapping your thigh made you jump, and you dropped the book in your hands as you turned to Denki. He’d just been…dozing, barely waking up to eat and drink.

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Weird, kinda out of it… where are we?” Gold eyes darted around the room, horror growing in them with every passing second. “What happened to Mina?” Denki was starting to panic, and you had to grab his hand to make him look at you.

“She got away, I sent her back to Katsuki so she could get help.” You soothed, hand smoothing over his hair. “You know what they're like, I'm sure they're planning something right now.” He didn't look convinced, and you wondered how he hasn't noticed the iron around his neck.

“Why can't we just break out?”

“If there's a sure opportunity for us to escape I'll take it, but you can't fight with the collar on, and I can't get it off while we're here.” You grabbed his wrists to stop him tearing at it, there was no use.

“Don't try to use your powers, okay? I'm not sure what it'll do, but the ones I've had have never been good. Your powers will activate the selected gem, and depending on that the collar will do something. I don’t want to risk it.”

“How do you know all this?” Denki squinted at you, and you dropped his arms, hands folding in your lap as you thought about how to explain that.

“I um, always had a talent for magic, my teachers kept track and when I graduated Shigaraki noticed and I uh… didn’t exactly go along with him at first, so he chose a… harsher…? Way for me to learn and fit into his… role for me.” The words stuck in your throat on the way up, you never thought you’d have to tell anyone that.

“I know it might be… a lot, and I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get out of here, but you need to trust me, okay Denki?” You couldn't look at him, your whole plan needed him, you couldn’t leave him here alone.

“Okay Y/n, but I’ll hold you to that promise.” You couldn’t help startle when Denki surged forward, nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. This wasn’t the reaction you expected, he went along so easily?

“O-Okay, just follow my lead, he needs to let his guard down and I… know how to do that.”

“The meeting was awful, honestly that scum are lucky I have you to calm me down… so I don’t have to resort to more extreme methods.” You’d tuned out most of Shigaraki’s rant, Denki had fallen asleep and you didn’t see the point in waking him for this. The king had his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair with a familiarity you hated. Shigaraki turned so he was facing you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek and you were lucky he was delusional enough to think the shudder that ran through you was good.

“Hmm? What happened this time?” You forced the words out, pretending to care really fucking sucked. His answer was lost as Denki started to stir next to you, oh god why’d he have to wake up now? He was gonna say something bad and it’d be over for the both of you. Shigaraki was still mumbling on while your eyes were fixed on Denki, humming your acknowledgment at the appropriate intervals so he’d think you cared.

“I swear it’d be better if I just ripped their heads off, then I could just stay here with you.” These words were mumbled into your skin,, Shigaraki going from laying in your lap to straddling you and hiding his face in your neck before you could do anything to stop him. You hated when he got like this, it could last for days if he was feeling particularly insecure or clingy.

“But then you’d have nobody to do what needs to be done, and you’d be spending even less time here.” Denki spoke and your heart stopped, oh god oh god ohgod. Shigsraki pulled back to look at the blonde, eyebrows raised as he considered that option.

“You have a point.” The king shrugged before he went back to your neck as if nobody had spoken, lips brushing against your skin as he grew bolder. Unease surged through you at the contact, the force of it through the bond almost made Denki transform, but he remembered you needed him to be good so you could get them out of here, and so he settled for buying his face in your thighs. He really hoped you knew what you were doing, and that the others were planning something. A knock at the door had your heart jumping into your throat, and after a growled answer from Shigaraki, Dabi entered the room. His voice was bored as ever while he spoke, something about needing Shigaraki back in the war room because their scouts had spotted something. A grunt left the king as he started to get up, unable to stop himself nipping at your neck before he pulled away, the red already blooming had him satisfied enough to slink over to Dabi and, in turn, leave you and Denki alone again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry this is all my fault-“ your anxiety took over the second the door closed, throat clogging up and tears clouding your vision. Kiri should have just left you to die, then none of them would be in this mess.

“C’mon, you’re okay, come back to me now.” Denki pulled your chest to his, forcing your breathing to follow his as he focused on calming you down. Your eyes slowly came back into focus, gold was the only thing you could see for a moment before Denki pulled back.

“Is that better?” His hand brushed the tears off your face, a comforting smile on his face. How could he look so angelic in this situation?

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You wiped your nose, humiliation setting in as you realised how pathetic you must look, you needed to be stronger if you were going to get out of here alive.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, this is a tough situation.” Denki shrugged, he didn’t want to pressure you into talking about your past, but something big had obviously happened. Your unease was still flooding through the bond, easily alerting Denki to the fact you weren’t fine, worse, you were lying to him about it. He just wanted to help. Maybe he should try and distract you? Opting to cheer you up any way he could, Denki cuddled into your side, making sure he was monitoring how you felt though the bond. Your gaze shifted as the blonde rubbed over your skin, making a noise you could only describe as a croon while his face nuzzled against your neck. The noise was… weirdly comforting, and it wasn’t long before you felt some of the anxiety leaving you. Denki was over the moon, you were responding so well! His crooning picked up at how happy he was, and you let your head rest on his shoulder, your own hands finding his and intertwining with them. You were almost asleep when the door opening had you jumping awake, Denki slowly blinking as he figured out what had spooked you. Confusion was all that remained when you saw Dabi there, Shigaraki nowhere to be seen as he closed the door behind him.

“I talked to Shoto, I’m gonna help you out.”

“Dabi agreed to help us, but in return he wants Shigaraki alive, for himself. It’s the best chance we have, he’s the kings right hand.” Shoto deadpanned, completely unbothered by the snarling warrior being held back by Kirishima next to him.

“I wanna rip that bastard to shreds, fuck Dabi, we can do this without him.” Katsuki finally managed to get out after he’d been calmed down, a task that took several minutes.

“It’d take longer, you really want to sacrifice Y/n and Denki so you can kill someone?” Hanta had to help hold Katsuki back at that remark from Shoto.

“Katsu, Shoto’s right, our priority needs to be getting them quickly, not killing Shigaraki.” Mina placed her hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, the thing that finally calmed him down enough to mumble out a fine and get on with the actual planning.

“Finally, now what we’re going to do is cause a distraction on the battlefield, during which Dabi will knock out Shigaraki and get Denki and Yn to a safe destination we’ll go to after the battle. Now, onto the details…”

“You’re what? No way, it’s a trap right? Shigaraki is testing my loyalty? I’m not falling for something like this again.” You shook your head as you paced the room, Denki still sitting on the bed and Dabi lounging on a chair next to the desk. It was exactly the kind of thing that bastard would do.

“Bakugo told me to tell Denki about the dandelions.” Dabi ignored your rant, instead turning to Denki and raising his eyebrows at the blonde. Lower lip between his teeth, The blonde slunk over to you, grabbing your hand tightly before he spoke.

“It’s not a trap, Y/n, he’s telling the truth.”

“You don’t know that, what if they captured someone that told him?” You hissed, eyes darting over to the nonchalant figure in the chair.

“Hey, you asked me to trust you before, I need you to trust me now. Okay?” He presses a kiss to your cheek when he was finished, and despite your best efforts that smile got to you, made you relax and squeeze his hand.

“I-Fuck. Okay, I trust you.”

Taglist under the cut (let me know if there are any problems/you want to be added)

@averydrearydiana@wolfygecko@baby-snart@ssnaketongue@that-one-piece-oftrash@emilysimaginesblog@generousdigitalartartghost@slowly-gently@toffee1812@izzys-complete-insanity@sexisquid@icecreamguru03@tessamarie22@peculiar-faerie@lunaralpha270@max7500@graduatedmelon@everstrange1@saltytocrusade@dark-side-blog2@tinyspacesaurus@shimyshimyagustd@teacaku@shinethesensational@yooalicee@radnickeltoadbat@superrllama@trinshappyplaces@kai-iaa@mini-kunoichi-universe@estellegladiolus@kirapholia@lemonmaim@skylerstorm2@phantomfunguschild@naked-canadians@meaper112@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx @elektraeriseros@alpacalunches@a-mistake-tbh@evienorville@kirapholia@lemonmaim

@skylerstorm2@naked-canadians@degenerate-yandere@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx@artificially-chill@brbgettingchocolates@redvelevetdog@zaboomanyoom@alpacalunches@bad-boquet-of-emotions@tokyohealth@okthensherlock@imlosingmyshit@smallangrynerd@cherry-mariss@frostfox382

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Oooooh I am very much looking forward to seeing this B and Demetri and Connor dynamic!

“Hey Manning, I almost thought you wouldn’t show… Oh you brought the dog.”

An eye roll but the handler kept his smile in place. 

“He still looks like a handful, he’d eat this little one alive.” A  gentle tug and Demetri moved obediently to stand in front of the handler with his head still bowed.

Connor turned, keeping one arm tightly around B. 

 "Yeah, he goes everywhere I go, now. You think I want to be in that hotel bed by myself? Show me the stray." 

 When Demetri moved out in front, Connor blinked with no particular memory sparking. He'd seen a lot of pets come through before he quit. "Oh, okay. This is him? He's pretty."

When B saw who was waiting from them he couldn't have been happier to be there. "Demetri!" He gasped, wiggling out of Connor's tight grip on him to rush forward and slam his hands on the desk. His eyes tracked the hands on his dear friends' back and he growled and curled his top lip to bare his silver canines. "Let 'im go... Right now."

The handler recoiled and unconsciously yanked Demetri back with him, startling the blond into looking up. 

There was a vague recognition of the name that felt almost like his own but drifted too far out of reach to grasp. He stayed pressed to the handler for a long moment before a faint smile cracked through his panicked expression.

 He could hardly believe his luck of who had come to save him. 

 He could never forget B’s face, the only kind face he had known for years and had been grieving the loss of for too long. 

After a moment of stunned but elated staring he squirmed away from the handler, no longer needing the man’s reassurance. 

 Demetri skirted round the desk and launched himself at B with all the strength he could muster, clinging on to the familiar source of comfort without concern for the other two men watching the display. He hissed through his teeth when he bumped the sliced up brand against B but still refused to let go. He was terrified if he let go it wouldn’t be real anymore. He would still be on the street lost and afraid.

Connor stared blankly at B as he ran forward. 

He barely had time to open his mouth to order him to drop the aggression before the hot little blond had jumped forwards too, and the two pets were holding each other. "What the fuck...?" He blinked rapidly, then looked at the other handler and gave a shrug. 

 "Hey." He gave a quick, low whistle to get B's attention. "You know 'im, baby?"

B couldn't believe it, sure that he was dreaming and he'd be woken up by a soft touch on his shoulder and be back in the truck again. "I... How?" 

His words stuck in his throat, his chest swelling with light as he caught the boy flinging himself onto him. He held him tightly, rocking him from side to side like he used to do and tucking Demetri's head under his chin. 

 At the sound of the whistle B looked up, eyes glossy and a smile splitting across his face. "Yes! Yes, sir! This... This is Demetri... He was... He was Mister Rossi's pet..." He said, feeling the tension in the other and the pained hiss. 

 "W-Wait... You're hurt..." He murmured, gently pulling him back to look at Demetri's chest. "Oh..." He noticed the blood staining through his shirt. "Oh ... isn't that... Hey... Dem-... Pretty? You alrigh', lad?"

The handler behind the desk couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping, everyone had heard rumours that Rossi’s pet had been run through the system but of course his links to WRU were very hushed up. 

 “Fuck.. that’s Rossi’s pet? Shit, we probably need to let someone know, who was his primary? They’ll know how to reach him.” 

 Demetri let all of the distress from the moment Rossi had dropped him on the street drain out of his body. B was safe, B could protect him. He glanced at the man who had whistled, the dark hair and eyes were disturbingly similar to Rossi but this one seemed less of a threat. 

 There wasn’t a response until B used the correct name and Demetri glanced down at the spotting on the pale grey shirt, staining the fabric. He tugged the neckline down and exposed the damaged brand, it was bleeding a little from slamming into B with such eagerness but was obviously deliberately done. “It’s... it’s fine... I was good, I didn’t move I swear.”

"Oh, Jesus fuck, not those assholes," Connor muttered, feeling a drop in his stomach. B was so excited, he'd be heartbroken when Rossi showed back up to take his pet back- 

 Then Demetri pulled back enough to pull down the neckline of his shirt and Connor's eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. He held up a hand. "Gonna guess you don't need to call Rossi," He said to the other handler, moving closer to take a better look, leaning over with one hand on B's back, casually possessive. "Look at that. That's not amateur work and it wasn't done mad. Bet you fifty bucks Rossi did that himself."

B blinked, struck by the horror of what had happened to his friend. And fury at Rossi. He had never been good to him unless it had served him a purpose. And he used him and hurt him. 

Demetri had been changed by this place as much as he was. Because of him. 

 "It was him..." B said lowly, leaning instinctively into the touch on his back and looking at Connor. "He ... He hurt him. He can't go back to him, sir." B's voice cracked slightly, trembling slightly as he carefully angled Demetri so he could hold him without pushing into the wound. "Please... Connor. He needs to come home with us."

Demetri laid his head on B’s shoulder, offering up a smile to the man who was now close to them. If B trusted him then this man, whose face Demetri was still trying to place, he would have blind allegiance without question from Demetri. 

The handler had shifted around the desk to get a better look, a small piece of scarring was untouched, the only suggestion there had been a brand under all the slices. “Shit, they’re always so much harder to sell on with this kind of damage. I’ll have to see if anyone has space for a refurb this week before he gets a fucking infection..” 

Even with the dog cradling the blond so possessively, the handler never expected that Connor would want to take on more damaged goods.

Connor had a reputation for how he dealt with pets, he couldn’t possibly want this emotionally fragile little wisp of a pet. 

 Demetri lifted his hand and gently traced over B’s chest, the firm planes of muscle just as he remembered them. Capable of so much damage while only ever trying to protect him. His voice was a low wistful murmur. “I missed you B... I wanted you to come home.”

Connor frowned, watching the two pets together. B was always gentle as a lamb with other pets, whether it was Socks or when he was in the Facility training. And B so rarely asked for a single thing for himself - he just took what Connor gave him with gratitude and adoration. 

But he was asking for this. 

Connor moved forward, taking Demetri's chin in his thumb and fingers to tilt it up and look at him, at his eyes. 

 "Baby," He said to B while looking Demetri over, "Baby, I am not a halfway house for stray pets. I can't just bring home every pretty thing that catches your eye..."

B kept his arms tightly wrapped around Demetri, allowing him to touch his chest. His own brand still stung from time to time. But Connor had transformed it. And he hadn't cast him aside when he did. 

 "Missed you too... I missed you so much... I'm sorry..." He rumbled, burying his face into Demetri's hair. He swallowed the lump in his throat, loosening his grip slightly to allow his owner to look over Demetri. 

 He crushed down the urge to smack Connor's hands off him. Connor was kind. Connor wouldn't hurt him. 

"He's... He's not just Pretty..." B murmured. "He's Demetri... He's my ... my friend... I... I love him very much, sir. He needs to be with us... He can be good for you too. He's very good."

Demetri tipped his head with the slightest pressure from Connor, turning his face until he met the man’s dark eyes. There was no hiding his enjoyment at even the barest of contact, the gentleness was what he craved. 

 The handler scoffed from a few feet away, he was still wary of the dog. He had heard about the state of the rookies after a tangle with it and now it had something to guard. But Manning had a point, surely here wasn’t going to let his dog tell him what to do. 

 “You’re not running a charity Manning, don’t want people to talk. The boy’s got Romantic training, the clinic can clean up the wounds and he’ll be on his knees for some cheapskate client in a week or two. He is very pretty..” 

 Demetri couldn’t hide the fear that shone in his eyes, he was supposed to be for Rossi. He should go back to Rossi... but they were talking like Rossi didn’t want him... like he wasn’t good enough. 

He prayed he could stay with B, not daring to want it yet, he could at least understand Connor was in control. Teeth caught his lower lip, his head tipped to the most attractive angle as he all but batted his eyelashes up at Connor. Classic Romantic look, perfected to be irresistible, combined with the low needy whine, most people caved and gave him some attention at that point.

Connor bristled a little at B pushing him in front of the other handler. While technically he wasn't one anymore, he still sure as fuck didn't like the idea of someone looking down on him for being pet-whipped. 

Some owners got that way, spoiling the shit out of their pets and treating them like real people, and Connor had mocked plenty of those in his time. He definitely didn't want to invite the same mockery from the other handler. 

 "Baby, I think I decide what we need in my house, yeah?" His voice was still mostly gentle, but there was an edge of irritation, a warning there. He'd never really hurt B beyond the bedroom - and they did plenty of that, which was perfect and B did so well - but a couple of days barred from petting Socks or the barn cats usually did the trick for discipline. 

 He watched Demetri tilt his head just the right way, blinking at him. "Yeah, he was definitely one of ours. Rossi's pet..." His voice trailed, off, turning Demetri's head to the side, catching faint scarring along his jaw. "Wait, didn't I fuck you once?"

B swallowed thickly, chest tightening at the edge to Connor's voice. He bowed his head hastily. "Yessir... M'sorry, sir... I'm... I just... I thought we could..." He mumbled, heat spreading across his cheeks. 

He had forgotten his place. He wasn't allowed to want things. That wasn't his place at all. 

 He took a small step back, keeping his head lowered reverently.

Demetri still felt the little flutter of panic when people caught sight of the scars. If you aren’t Pretty what’s the point in keeping you around? 

At least Connor didn’t seem put off by them, in fact his words reached into the blond’s scrambled brain and plucked out a memory with shocking clarity. He grinned, a warm natural expression rather than one designed to entice. “Asshole number two...” 

Flickers of shared food, kneeling for the man, the heated mat and a few hours reprieve danced through his mind, they didn’t linger but he knew enough to know this was one of the nice ones. His attention turned back to B who was visibly distressed. 

Without hesitation Demetri was nuzzling his cheek and sliding his hands under B’s shirt. His usual conflict resolution skills kicked in without a second thought, he needed to make B happy, he needed to be good. 

“Shit, are you taking him or not? I would really rather avoid the paperwork and not have him fuck your dog in the lobby.” The handler just needed to wash his hands of this. Rossi was trouble and he needed to avoid that if he wanted to get taken off of desk duty.

Connor took a deep breath, watching the embarrassment and sadness on his dog's face, and then audibly groaned, putting a hand up over his face. Jesus, if B turned on the fucking waterworks he'd be totally lost, right in front of the other handler. 

 "Yeah, fuck. Yeah. Damn it. Baby, you know I hate when you-... fuck." 

Connor sighed and waved his hand at the handler. "Yeah, fine, okay. Just... just whatever means we don't have to call that piece of shit two-bit mob boss." 

 He took Demetri by one arm, pulling him closer to himself and slightly away from B. 

 "This is not because you made your sad face at me, sweetness. It is not. Now come on, we're going outside to figure this shit out a little bit and get you two out of the lobby before someone calls the cops for public indecency." He moved towards the door, pulling Demetri with him, trusting B to fall in as well without even a glance back.

[goldenfawnwriting]

Birds of A Feather- Part 11 Hawks fic

Summary: It’s been a long work week and Finch finds herself going home alone again. How long will this last? On the other side Hawks is asking himself the same thing as he watches her walk away.

Warnings: Angst, violence, catastrophe y’know the good stuff. 

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy!

Finally the work week was over. Finch was beyond tired and stressed from the blatant tenseness between her and her boss. She was way too excited to get off and run for the door, as she knew Asami was waiting on her at their usual bar. 

Hawks almost stopped her. He didn’t know what in the world had her so excited but he brushed it off, sitting at his desk for some time longer. He really couldn’t get her out of his mind but at the same time, he was kinda pissed off at her. He didn’t understand why she was being like this, so stone cold with him. She never did that before, she never really cared what he did. Not that there was another woman in the picture then either. But he was being honest, she was just a friend that came to visit. Nothing was going on between them. 

Finch didn’t care. Even if he was telling the truth she didn’t want to risk getting her heart broken and possibly losing her job. As she rushed off to meet her best friend she shoved the thoughts out of her mind of him. She had worn something a little fancier than usual to work today and Hawks had half a mind to ask what was going on but he kept his mouth shut. A pinkish red blouse, swooping down and showing her bare back, a slightly shorter pencil skirt, and a pair of nude heels. She wasn’t usually in brighter colors, he noticed. She had also stopped wearing the hair pin he had gotten her, which hurt his feelings a bit but he wouldn’t admit it. 

When she got to the bar they began drinking, laughing and dancing, having a good time. Finch was relieved to not think about Hawks for just a moment but that soon ended. As a good looking man with an odd quirk approached her, she gave Asami a knowing look.

“Hey girls! I’m Yanaka, we just wanted to know if you guys might want to join our group?”

Asami glanced over, spotting the three guys across the crowded bar. She looked at Finch, who was obviously what he came here for.

“S-sure we’d love to!”

She replied, her face reddened with alcohol. As they moved to where the other group was Asami kept an eye on Finch, squinting when Yanaka ran a hand across her bare, lower back, leading her across the room. She didn’t know about this guy and his group of friends. She was really concerned about how Finch was acting, she usually was more reserved and it didn’t bother her at first but now she was a little concerned. 

The night was going well enough, she kept her eye on Finch who eventually went out to the dance floor with Yanaka. She was trying to keep an eye on her while holding up a conversation with the other two guys, They talked about a bunch of everything and nothing but it was getting harder to keep track of doing both. She didn’t even realize when she lost sight of the two, looking back while laughing before it hit her, her eyes widening in panic. They were gone from the dance floor. 

About 20 minutes later when Finch still hadn’t come back into sight she started to really get worried. The other two guys were constantly trying to change the subject and change the topic, which only made it worse, Asami getting up and excusing herself to the restroom, the only place she knew they wouldn’t follow. Locking herself in a stall she pulled out her phone, trying to call Finch, text her, still not getting any reply and after 3 minutes she was in tears. She was praying nothing happened like last time, that maybe she was just freaking out for no reason, but she couldn’t calm herself down. 

In a last ditch attempt she texted someone she knew Finch wouldn’t agree with.  She was desperate, typing with shaking hands, begging him to do anything.

When she wiped her tears in the mirror and rejoined the group she was still scanning the dance floor looking for Finch as the two guys talked her ear off. She never got a reply from Hawks but about 10 minutes later she spotted him from across the room, walking towards her. She gave him a desperate look as she made his way to her. 

“Hey miss sparky, who are these guys?”

“U-uh, this is Aito, and Haruma, Yanaka was with Finch, I’m not sure where they went.”

She exchanged information smoothly and without suspicion, smiling as she introduced the two men sitting on each side of her. 

“Ya, man, he’s probably just having a smoke or something, no big deal!”

Auto assured him. Hawks gave Asami a look and she shot on back.

“Well, uh, why don’t you stay here, and I’ll get us some drinks Star.”

She nodded a little too quickly but knew she could play it off as if she just had a crush to the two other men. She swallowed hard, watching Hawks walk off into the crowd. She knew he wasn’t too pleased with what was going on but, he was the only one who she could think of that would help.

He walked the perimeter of the club and bar, scanning through people. He knew she must be wearing the same clothes as earlier, it was too early for her to have stopped to change. As he made his way to the back alley of the club his stomach sunk. He just had a bad feeling. Right before he rounded the corner into the alley he stopped, posting up against the wall as he listened. It was her voice. 

“I-I don’t know Yanaka, we should probably get back, Im sure my friend is worried by n-now...”

“Aw peach, don’t worry~ This’ll only take a second...”

“Yanaka please, I don't-”

“Aw just be a good girl for me ya?”

Hawks was so very close to rounding the corner and stopping him but he waited just a second longer, just until he heard Finch squeal and the sound of a slap. He raced around the corner, setting eyes on the girl, her wings trapped against the brick wall and the slimy guy pinning her there. 

He was silent as he walked up behind the guy, Finch’s eyes squeezed shut as she waited for what he assumed was another slap across the face, judging by the red mark on her cheek. He grabbed the guys shoulder, catching him by surprise as he turned him around, punching him square in the jaw. The man’s yell was cut off as he fell, scrambling away from Hawks with a hand holding his jaw. 

“H-hey what the hell man!”

“Finch it’s time to go.”

Hawks growled, grabbing the girl by the arm and dragging her out of the alley. Finch was stumbling behind him and Hawks was getting more and more frustrated, whipping her around in front of him and steadying her once they got out of the alley and away from the sleezeball. 

“How do you not learn?! Why did you come back here after what happened last time?!”

She stuttered, her face reddened. He couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or alcohol. 

“I-I didn’t need you to s-save me-”

She slurred. Hawks sighed angrily and picked up her phone from her hand, calling Asami.

“I’ve got her she’s fine. Just get home please. I don’t need another person to worry about.”

He grumbled, hanging up without giving Asami time to respond. 

“What the hell is with you? This is the second time you’ve done this- It’s like you want something to happen-”

“I didn’t want anything to happen Hawks! I just wanted to have a good time!”

She yelled back at him, ripping her arm away from his grip. He quickly caught it again, pulling her closer.

“All you ever do is get yourself in trouble Finch, and I have to come save you-”

“I didn’t need your help! I was fine!”

“Oh ya, fine! Totally fine! With the pervert groping you up in a dirty back alley?!”

“Maybe!”

Hawks didn’t respond, the pause giving her enough time to let it sink in as her eyes started to water.

“Oh- don’t cry-”

It was too late. She was full on bawling.

“I’m fine! I can be fine on my own, I don’t need anyone to take care of me like a child!”

She cried, furiously wiping away her own tears with her sleeves. Hawks wasn’t sure what to do.

“S-stop crying, let’s just go home, you’re drunk.”

“I don’t want to go home with you, I’ll make it home fine by myself, leave me alone.”

She started walking down the street by herself and Hawks had half a mind to let her, but after what had happened he wasn’t even sure she’d remember tonight, let alone make it all the way home. 

“Come one love bird don't be like that~”

He called, giving her his best sultry voice. Maybe if he played nice she would mind. She froze where she stood.

“Let me at least make sure you get home alright.”

He requested. She sighed before nodding, still not facing him. And so he followed her on her walk home, staying a few feet behind her the whole time. He didn’t want to push her any more than he had. 

“Hawks, why did you come tonight?”

“Asami called-”

“Ya but, why did you actually come? You could’ve just told her it wasn’t your problem.”

“I-I’m a hero, I save people, it’s my job.”

She was silent then. It was just his job, not his feelings. There was nothing meaningful about it, just his responsibility. She silently sighed, getting to her front door of her apartment and fumbling with the keys. Hawks gently took them, unlocking the door for her. She paused before she went in, turning back to Hawks to say something when suddenly he was kissing her. After a second she responded deepening it as his hands gently ran across her waist and his fingers grazed along her bare back. 

“I’m sorry for tonight...”

He panted when they separated. She only nodded silently. 

“And I’m sorry for kissing you-”

“Don’t be.”

She cut him off lowly, suddenly aware of how short her skirt had became, getting hiked up slightly throughout the night. She pulled it back into place, brushing off her blouse. 

“Um... Can I kiss you again?”

He wondered, giving her a look with pin prick pupils. She cleared her throat. 

“H-Hawks, I had a question actually...”

Her wings puffed slightly and she tried in vain to smooth them with her hands. 

“Can I tell you something first?”

He stopped her, his eyes hooded as he looked over her. She nodded and waited and after a moment of him not replying she went to speak but was cut off. He pulled her into another kiss, her face blushing hotly as he wrapped his arms around her, braking away to kiss at her neck.

“H-hawks~”

“Call me Keigo sweetheart.”

Finch let out a low gasp, as she let her head fall back slightly to give him more access. 

“Why don’t we go inside gorgeous?”

She only nodded in reply, pulling him inside the apartment. They continued their make out session on the couch, Hawks pushing her down onto her back gently. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for awhile now...”

He trailed off. She replied before he could continue. 

“Ke-Keigo, I really like you.”

“I’m in love with you Finch.”

She blushed hotly and carded her fingers through his hair gently, pulling on the locks slightly. 

“Then kiss me again.”

She replied, blushing hard. He gave a coy smirk before granting her wish. 

[honeyhenry]

Traitor - b.b. (part 6 - FINAL)

A/N: this is the last proper part to this series, however I am keen to write an epilogue or little drabbles/hcs about this little universe so pleeeease feel free to request! I hope you enjoyed this series, I myself have loved writing it and it has challenged me greatly! Love you guys for all your support!

catch up here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

“I think it’s best you leave, James.”

He blinks. “what?”

“You heard me, James. Don’t make this harder. Don’t pretend that it’s not what you really want.”

His brow furrows, stepping forward towards you with a thousand questions on his lips. Before he can even attempt to speak - to disagree, to argue - you continue.

“You've been waiting for an excuse to go and here I am handing it to you on a plate. Obviously I didn’t want this to happen but you accusing me of this...it kills me...” your harsh façade fades and causes you to shrink back slightly, speaking the next words in a whisper; “you’re killing me, Buck.”

The soft nickname makes his heart ache, knowing that clearly you’ve been fighting this feeling for a while, and now you’re not ordering him to leave - you’re pleading.

“Doll-” he starts, and despite your wearied broken hope in him, you give him a pointed look that makes him think twice. “Sorry. Y/n...please hear me out...i swear it’s not what im trying to do. I’m not trying to get away from you, or Jamie-”

“How do i know its not what your subconscious is trying to do Bucky? I had to convince you that you deserved a relationship, and then that you would be such a great father and you have been the best...and here i was thinking i wouldn’t have to tell you all that again for the next one, but it seems your subconscious has come back to bite us. I can’t keep telling you how good you are at what you want, when it seems like you don’t even want it anymore. That you don’t want us anymore.”

If his heart was broken before, it’s now shattered into a million pieces right in front of you. He feels so vulnerable and in the worst possible way, the way that allows for you to slip through his fingers and leave. All because of his stupid insecurities, which ironically have now ended up being the cause fulfilling each thought fuelling his nightmares.

“I do! Baby i swear, i just panicked, about JJ, i freaked out and I should’ve never accused you...it hit a nerve, with you and Steve. It’s my worst nightmare and I swear...I swear me being like that and accusing you? It’ll never happen again. Doll please.” Bucky tries to reach for you, wanting to tilt your head towards him tenderly and let all be forgiven.

You’re not going to be so quick to forgive.

You want a fight. You just want him to fight for you.

“Yeah too right it won’t.” You turn to the kitchen and he follows as you wipe your hands on a towel before getting out some milk for JJ. The young child is always hungry, and so feeds from both your milk and some extra formula to keep him content and full. You know its Bucky’s altered genes that has given you such a little greedy guts, but he’s happy, healthy, and round as a squish, so you were content too. And it meant Bucky could feed him too, something he adored doing.

Facing the sink, you clean out a bottle. Your back is to Bucky now, and just as he's about to speak up again, you find yourself crying again. He silently moves over to you and ever so gently, touches your waist.

The muffled sob you let out makes his heart break, and he places his forehead on your shoulder sighing and holding in his own tears.You smell of baby powder and exhaustion, while he is a source of warmth and strength.

It’s almost as if he’s holding you together.

“Please baby, don’t tell me to go when I know you. I know you want to beg me to stay but you can’t because it’s me who fucked up and you’re the strongest person, the best person I know. I’ll make it all back up to you and more, everything you want, you deserve it all and more from me. I’m so sorry doll.”

As you both stay there, holding each other, navigating your emotions towards his apology to the whole situation, Bucky’s movements stutter, and you feel him tense up behind you.

He remembers your words from earlier.

“The next one” you had said, and he repeats it with a mumble before he experiences a moment of full realisation.

He completely stills in his movements. he knows you so well, even if there has been a momentary lapse in communication and contact up until this point. Bucky slides his hand from your waist to your stomach and feels a heavy guilt burdening his heart with the thought of you questioning his loyalty at any time but in particular such a time like this. His large hand covers your abdomen and he nuzzles his face into where your shoulder meets your neck, trying to get you to give in. This will do for now, he thinks.

“The next one will have a father who knows his worth in the family...doll I had no idea”

“You weren't supposed to. I only found out this morning...you threatened me James, how was I supposed to tell you?”

“You were going to let me leave while you had JJ to look after and another baby- OUR baby in your belly...honey please, talk to me.”

“I thought..maybe I’d tied you down too soon, or you weren't really that type after all. Sometimes when I’m convincing you, it’s for my benefit too. I love you Bucky but i think that means setting you free for what you’re destined for.”

He doesn't even miss a beat.

“Bullshit. You’re what I’m destined for, and I’m sorry i ever made you doubt that” he turns you gently so you’re facing him and he’s still just as close, lips right above yours, his eyes watering, praying you’ll take his sincerest of apologies as he bares his soul in the kitchen, the water heating up for JJ’s milk the only sound reverberating through the downstairs floor.

“I.....I really don’t want you to go, and it sounds selfish but i need you, Buck and i need you to trust me and be trusting in yourself for being the best man you can possibly be. For me and JJ, and now this little one too” you offer a small, somewhat hopeful smile as you place your hand on his as he softly rubs your stomach.

He swallows thickly, and replies with full honesty “I swear doll, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, and JJ, and little peanut Barnes here, too.” He looks up again, the two of you noticing how close your lips are and wow he wants nothing more than to kiss you. However he knows you better than to chance his luck right now, and so he asks his next question. “How far along?”

“Only 6 weeks, I haven't told anyone, and I’m not planning to yet, especially Steve and- yeah.”

Bucky nods, understanding.

“Good plan, darlin’”

He looks deep into your eyes as the milk machine finishes, glancing once again at your lips, and so you quickly take the chance to turn around before he can give in and ask for a kiss, or maybe even steal one if he’s fast. He’s got some making up to do, but you have a feeling you’ll be giving and receiving plenty of kisses later that night when Steve takes JJ for a spontaneous sleepover.

You fill up the milk bottle and head upstairs, followed by Bucky who gazes at you fondly every second that he’s physically able to.

You enter the nursery with the milk, all smiles looking at your handsome boy in Steve’s arms. JJ is properly giggling and he has Bucky’s sweet toothy smile that only the people currently in the room (plus very few others) have had the pleasure of truly seeing.

“Oh there’s my boy!” you exclaim “you smile just like your Daddy now that you’ve got those two big teeth coming through! Come here angel.”

Bucky looks to Steve as he hands over his precious Godson to you, and then looks back to you making yourself comfortable on the rocking chair feeding JJ his bottle.

Steve watches fondly at the small family during such an intimate time as feeding, grateful that the Barnes family allow him to stay. He finds hope that he will experience this very thing himself someday, with his own wife.

Bucky looks up at his friend, and offers a small smile, a token “thank you” as a comfortable silence fills the room, only halted by JJ’s rhythmic suckling and a splutter before the baby omits an almighty burp against you.

Steve smiles back at Bucky, just as all your laughter calms down, as if to say; ‘told you so - he’s definitely a Barnes.”

-

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[bleufrost]

Frozen Embers || Chapter Two

Loki x reader

Series Preview/General Story Guide

Warnings: swearing, very conflicted emotions, some violence but nothing bad

Series summary: Growing up under the guidance of S.H.I.E.L.D, you were trained from the moment you could walk to be a good agent. You were everything you needed to be, but the emotions and empathy that ran through your blood tainted all of your hard work. One day, you are given the chance to prove yourself by being assigned to the cell of Loki, the god of mischief. Quickly, icy walls begin to melt as you both realize that your time together is bringing forth a mix of flame and frost that can only end in chaos.

Original request by: @procrastinatinglikeabitch

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A/N: MY HIATUS DIDNT LAST THAT LONG!! YAY! im trying not to let myself wallow too much because i feel like laying in bed all day just makes me sadder, so lets try to write instead haha

and here we have chapter twooo! after this it gets a lot more...interesting. as always, i hope you guys enjoy, and love you all!

As you walk over to the training deck to meet Fury, your mind can't help but turn over the events that had just transpired. Loki had acted so nonchalant as you left, if not for the vocalization of his desire to see you again, you would have thought him to be indifferent about the entire situation. 

But he had called out to you. He had made it very clear that seeing you again was not only something he would endure, but also something that he wanted. It made your heart beat rapidly in your chest and brought a smile to your face. You weren’t foolish enough to believe that the words meant anything, the way in which he had spoken them promised nothing but a craving to simply not be alone, yet you were still somewhat giddy. 

"I hope to hell that smile isn't a result of you meeting that psychotic motherfucker." You quickly replace the look on your face with one of annoyance and roll your eyes at Fury. "That's real mature, sir. Maybe I'm smiling because I get to see your pretty face." 

Fury chuckles but you instantly regret the banter when you see him look up. "Barton! Smartass here wants to act like a punk, I was going to have her train with one of the new cadets, but why don’t we have her work with you again instead?” Fury smiles at you, giving you a mock salute as he heads for the door. You groan and get ready for another ass kicking at the hands of your favorite archer.

***********************

As your head slams against the mat for the seemingly hundredth time that afternoon, Clint comes once again to reach a hand out to you and pull you up. You give him your hand, but this time you let all your weight drop as he moves to pull. For almost anyone else, that would’ve ended in him falling to the mat beside you; Clint wasn’t anyone else though. He gives you a disapproving look, but quickly softens when he sees how genuinely exhausted you are. 

“You alright kid?” You lift your knees up, resting your arms against the tops of them as you let out a long sigh. Clint takes that as his cue, and gently takes a seat beside you.

“I met Loki today.” He becomes visibly uncomfortable at the mention of the god’s name, rightfully so considering the things he had endured at the mercy of Loki. 

“I don’t know why they’re sending you in to do that kind of stuff. You’re too young to be dealing with things like that.”

“Well, I have to prove myself somehow, right? I’m just not sure how smoothly this will go.” Clint places a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. “If it gets bumpy, I’m right here.” You offer Clint a smile before pushing yourself up and reaching your hand out to help lift him too. 

That night you couldn’t sleep. Every time your eyes fell shut, you saw the mischievous god smiling before you. That same feeling of uncertainty settled in the pit of your stomach as you pondered over whether you should run to or from the god. All the warning signs, every instinct you had been taught, gut feelings and red flags; none of it mattered. You always chose to run to him and that should have been a huge signal to abort, but you couldn’t. 

Or maybe you just didn’t want to.

In the morning you were barely able to register waking up because you couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place. 

You took extra care in the bathroom after leaving your bed; something you didn’t want to admit to. For some reason your hand reached for the perfume you had for special occasions. He wouldn’t be able to smell you through the walls of the cell, so why do it? You put on another black protocol outfit, but this time it was one you felt confident in; one you felt irresistible in. You don’t even fully realize you had done any of that until you finally snap out of it. 

Standing in front of the heavy metal door once more, you slide your key in just like yesterday. Your heeled boots click against the cold tile just as they did last time, but this time you don’t waver or try to stop the noise. You want him to know you’re coming. 

Loki had spent the entire day thinking about you. It was in no way something he found any pride in, in fact he was nearly humiliated by just how much of his time had been consumed by thoughts of you. He was trying to justify it in his mind; you were the first being he had come in contact with for quite some time, there was nothing special about you specifically. He would have been just as relieved to see the man of iron as he was to see you. Deep down though, he knew this wasn’t the case. 

There had been something about you that sparked his curiosity. You were an agent, that he knew. What he could not for the life of him understand is how you could be so wide eyed and innocent. You were so gentle, so kind hearted, so delicately human. In this case though, Loki felt that being so was not a downfall. On you, humanity was radiant and he was desperate to interact with you more. 

He would get that wish very soon.

"Loki?" Your voice rang through the hall as you stared at the god, trying to call his attention. Loki grinned, but you didn't take notice as he wiped the smile from his face before turning away from the wall to face you.

"Pet, you've returned." Walking toward you nearly silently, his face took on the familiar mischievous look that you had already grown to recognize. You could tell immediately that he was going to take any opportunity he could to be condescending or make you feel the necessity to leave, so you decided early on that you wouldn't give him the chance.

"I brought something. It's obviously not going to be as entertaining as I'm sure you're used to, but I thought you might enjoy it nonetheless." Smiling, you sat cross legged on the floor in front of him. 

Loki stayed standing for a moment, his mischief laced demeanor slowly transforming to one of curiosity as he pondered over whether or not to trust what you had brought him. 

You took notice of his hesitancy, and brought your bag out to open in front of you. Pulling out two books, you laid them down for him to see, smiling gently up at him to encourage him to take a closer look and, perhaps, trust you. The god still seemed unsure, but he finally leaned down to see what you had taken the time to bring.

"Hamlet…" His fingers reached out to trace the glass by each title as he read their names aloud. "...Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus…" 

His eyes were filled with questioning as he finally looked back up to you. "What am I to do with these? I cannot take them inside of my cell." Suddenly you got nervous as you wondered if offering to read to a god was truly a childish act. Your stomach filled with worry and subtle regret that nearly closed around your throat before you cleared it of the unmistakable fear and spoke up.

"I was thinking we could read together, or at least I could read to you for a while. It's...difficult to trust someone new at first and I don't expect you to want to speak to me right away. I know I wouldn't want to if I were in your position. I figured, hearing someone else's story can be a bit more comforting than sharing your own, at least for now." Your cheeks took on a pink tint as you mustered the courage to look him in the eye and grew self conscious of the rambling mess that had flown from your lips. 

"Do all humans speak so much when they are nervous?" Looking down quickly, the twist of your gut could be felt again as your embarrassment grew. "I'm sorry." The light sound of amusement startled you, and Loki stayed leaning down still and laughing; at you most likely. You had the urge to leave, but just as you moved to turn away from him Loki sat down in front of you and smiled, this one was different though, it felt oddly sincere. 

"Don't apologize. It's oddly endearing to see one act so unabashedly human." Loki reached his hands up and spread them out to indicate the two books. "Now, pet. Which story would you prefer to start with?" 

Nearly four hours later, the two of you were still there reading from Mary Shelley's classic story. Your bodies had shifted several times, at first keeping that distance between you. As the hours flew by though, you both found yourselves sat with your sides pressed against the glass next to each other. It almost felt like the layer that separated your bodies wasn't there at times, but it was and it would permanently remain so. 

You shouldn't want it to be gone, it was there to protect you. It was there to ensure he could never hurt you. That he could never grab you, or touch you, or hold you. 

You needed to stop thinking like that. It wasn't safe, he wasn't safe; right? 

"Pet, you've grown quiet." His voice startled you out of your thoughts and suddenly you realized just how close you two had become. You sat up suddenly and shut the book, doing everything in your power to not alert Loki to the fact that your heart was thumping loudly in your chest. Your hands shook slightly and you wrung them together to hide the telltale sign of nervousness. 

"Sorry, I think I'm feeling a little tired. I'll be back soon okay?" You tried your best to put on the most convincing smile you could and watched as he nodded slowly. He didn't believe that you were completely alright, but he also was not about to beg you to stay...at least not out loud. 

"Alright, rest up little one. I will await your return with every fiber of my being." It was a shock to hear him say that, and your face unfortunately let it show as he quickly turned away and went to busy himself with something else within his cell. 

Did he really just admit that he was waiting for you to come back? That he wanted you to come back to him? Of course he had said a similar thing the first time you met, but this time it felt far more profound, far more personal. Your head was a mess as you left the holding area and made your way back to your room. 

***********************

Once again, your mind raced with concerns and confusion all night. You had only just met the god and still felt so tightly bound to him, it wasn't natural. There had to be some sort of explanation for what was happening. He had mind controlled Clint before, he could be doing the same to you, right? No. He had held the power of the Tesseract then and no longer wielded such power now. 

In that case, it must be your own fatal flaw. You were a disgrace for a S.H.I.E.L.D agent because your empathy ran too high and too untamed. Now was no different and you had to learn to control your emotions if you were ever going to figure out the god and report your findings to the agency. You wanted to understand him...but did you really want to betray him? 

Unbeknownst to you, your fearful conflict was shared in the mind and heart of Loki himself as he paced within his holding cell. He had allowed it to slip that he awaited your return to him in a far more intimate way than he should have allowed, and that made him feel utterly humiliated. He was a god and you were nothing but a puny human, but even he could not deny that your lack of anger or restraint in allowing yourself to be open and understanding toward him was enchanting. It comforted him to know someone so gentle could care for him. But you didn’t care for him, did you? 

The general panic and unease that was shared between you both seemed to transcend any wall or cage that kept you from each other. Neither one of you were able to share any communication as you lay in your bed and he in his cell, yet there was a connection that caused you both to understand you weren't alone.

It was all in one a comfort and an unwavering cause for alarm to know that you held such a strong connection to someone you had nearly just met. As much as you tried to fight it off, It was undeniable that a flame was ignited, and fires like these only proved to grow with every attempt to extinguish them.

_______________________

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[speckledbears]

Thoughts on “Far From Home”

SPOILERS FOR “Spider-Man: Far From Home”!!!!

this is for you anon

ok so basically i thought that it would have been good if it wasn’t a Spider-Man (“children’s”) movie.

Like, I think Quentin (Jake G) was such an interesting character, and an amazing villain but, I hated that his entire reason was because he wanted to be the New Iron Man. It bugs me to NO END that THATS the reason. Tony stole the projector tech he made, made fun of him (even if the audience didn’t know), and fired him. I think that’s a much better reason than wanting to be the next Annoying, Mean, Rich Rich Rich So Fucking Rich Metal Guy. The tech was so fucking cool? Like, projectors that seemed so lifelike,,, that’s so cool (also i kinda feel like you could relate it to how disney is only using GCI now but the russos are dumbasses). And like, the story Quentin and his team put together for Mysterio, and all the planning and the production value (if you can call it that lol) was so interesting and I was so intrigued. If there was a movie for him, and he didn’t fucking suck, I would pay to see it. His issue is that he’s so hellbent on killing Peter, MJ and Ned that I was put-off from like, half the movie. It’s kinda terrifying that someone can say, “I’ll just have to kill the kids myself,” and NO ONE IS CONCERNED??? And the fact that he was willing to kill innocent civilians just to make headlines, that’s fucked (and modern). Also, I think the directors missed out on a big opportunity for Peter to have a new father figure. Peter looked up to Quentin, trusted him, seeked him out for advice, like he would a father. I don’t remember him ever doing that with Tony. Peter was always too worried he was bothering him, and Tony seemed to brush him off a lot. Sure, Tony picked him and placed so much faith in him but, in the end? I feel Peter became more of a toy for the Avengers than an actual team member. If Quentin had been a good guy, doing this shit for the “right reasons” (idk like, taking the burden of becoming Iron Man off Peter, and maybe mentoring him) he could’ve been AMAZING. I still love him (except his dumb reasons) but, y’all missed out!!!!

Next: The whole deal with Peter being chosen by Tony to be the next Iron Man. Fucking hate that shit!!!!! Peter is a CHILD, he’s 16, and obviously he’s not ready for that responsibility!!!! In the movie, he’s manipulated by Quentin (which i lowkey also hate and explained above) and he just!!! gave EDITH to him!!!!! He’s a good kid, but not mature or responsible enough to handle having access to that kind of tech. I mean, dude almost killed a classmate?? Literally called a drone strike on the kid, couldn’t figure out how to cancel it, and destroyed the drone himself. Let’s not forget that this responsibility was FORCED ON HIM BY TONY???? Like, there was this scene where Peter literally told Quentin that he didn’t want EDITH!!! He didn’t want that kind of responsibility that came with being Iron Man!!! All he wanted for the summer was to hang out with his friends and kiss the girl he likes!!! Peter just wanted to be a normal child for one summer and, apparently, that was too much to ask for. Also, in the scene where Happy and Peter are in the jet talking about Tony, Peter says that he doesn’t know if he can be the new Iron Man. Happy doesn’t even hesitate when he says, “No, you can’t. No one can replace him.” Like hello!!!! And then they immediately forget that little nugget of wisdom, and Peter starts playing with Tony’s tech and literally everyone with eyes can draw the parallels between Peter and Tony. It’s frustrating. I hated how Tony was treated after his death. I completely understand mourning a character, especially one as important as Tony Stark, but it didn’t feel like mourning. It felt like worshipping. Tony had become a martyr, and he fucking knew it (EDITH = Even Dead, I’m The Hero 🙄) and people are still licking his boots. It’s just so weird that, even though he’s supposed to be dead, he’s still a main character and RDJ isn’t even in the movie!!!!!!!! When a character dies, that’s it, they can’t directly influence the story anymore, and yet Tony is still the reason for everything Peter does? He doesn’t have his own initiative. He lived and breathed in Tony’s shadow, and he’ll live in it forever. He’s being forced to become the next Iron Man. And believe me, I love Tony. I grew up watching the “Iron Man” movies with my parents and brother, and I remember watching one in the theatre and laughing till I cried. Guys! He’s dead! He’s done more than enough! It’s Spider-Man’s turn now.

I really hated Nick Fury in this movie. I grew up watching the OG Marvel movies and I loved Nick, but holy fuck. This dude hounded Peter, a CHILD, for help against those Elementals when he could’ve literally asked anyone else (side note: he shot Ned with a tranquilizer dart like? dude he’s a child calm down-). He gave a shit ton of excuses for why he couldn’t get in contact with the other Avengers but, I call bullshit. This dude is like, one of the most powerful men in the world (Quentin’s words, but it’s also been proven in other movies). He managed to track down Peter, how is it THAT HARD for him to find an adult??? Then he hijacked the school trip so that Peter would be in Prague, and he KNEW that once Peter was there he would help. It’s manipulation. Never mind the scene like, 5 mins later where Peter says he’s worried about his friends getting hurt (and having EDITH but not really understanding her), and Nick exploded on him. LIKE DUDE??? he’s a child. I’m also super pissed off at the fact that Nick manipulated Peter using his Avenger status. OOOOHHHH you whore!!! Literally everyone knows that Peter loved Tony (🙄🙄) and he used him against Peter! ASK AN ADULT FOR HELP YOU HAVE AN ENTIRE TEAM OF THEM????? Oh also, the bitch KNEW Quentin was evil. There’s a scene that proves it. It’s right after their first meeting where Peter says no, and leaves. Nick and Maria (the brunette lady hes always with, im surprised i remembered her name) share a knowing glance. They fucking KNOW. And yet?? They let Quentin do whatever the hell he wants?? He literally tried to kill 3 teenagers, and planned to kill hundreds of civilians in London (and i’m not sure if anyone did get hurt or died but, i wouldn’t be surprised). But the most powerful man in the world can’t stop him, apparently. He wants a 16-year-old CHILD to do it for him. It’s ridiculous!

The romance was also a bit hit-or-miss for me. Like, Ned and Betty?? It felt so forced and contrived? It literally only existed so that MJ could take Ned’s place. Y’all notice that Ned basically ditched his best friend for the entire movie for some girl he barely knows? Also, the fact that they “fell in love” on an eight hour flight. Hate that. It’s such a trope and it’s ugly. The romance with Happy and May was kinda weird, too? I mean, I don’t know their past together. I didn’t watch “Infinty War” or “Endgame” but, it also felt forced. Especially at the end, when Peter asked if they were dating!! May said no and Happy said yes!! I’m assuming that’s supposed to be comedy?? ig??? Anyway, I didn’t really like the romantic rivalry between Brad and Peter? (btw no shit i almost called peter “tony” i’m telling y’all they’re synonymous now). Like, Brad’s logic in using the photo of Peter stripping to “expose the truth” about Peter to MJ was so weird and awkward? The entire scene felt forced and I was so uncomfortable watching it. Also, MJ would’ve stuck up for Peter anyway, so it didn’t even matter, and the rivalry was dropped so easily after the opera in Prague. I did actually like the romance between Peter and MJ, even though I wasn’t expecting to. It’s a bit weird how quickly he got over Liz, but whatever; he’s a teenager. (I was going to comment on the necklace thing but, that’s actually kind of in character for him so, y’all get ONE (1) pass). I thought their hug and kiss at the end of the battle with Quentin was super fucking sweet and innocent, and it was refreshing compared to most teen romance movies where they act like adults instead. I was in LOVE with that scene, and it was one of the only scenes I honestly loved.

Ok, I wanna go back to Quentin for a bit. This dude absolutely destroyed the Peter Parker we were given in HOCO, and at the beginning of the movie. Yeah, Tony already had him as a puppet, but Quentin took his innocence. Y’all saw how easily Peter trusted people before him!! Like?? When he found out Quentin manipulated him, he lost almost all his faith in other people, except for MJ and Ned. For example, the scene where Peter calls Happy to pick him up because he’s in a holding cell in the Netherlands? Love that scene BUT! As he’s limping over to Happy, so obviously fucked up and hurting, he makes Happy prove it’s really him. THAT FUCKING HURT LMAO!!!!! I hated that. And that last battle with Quentin on the bridge? He maneuvered so easily through the drones, it was impressive, and he’d only fought against them once before (seems impossible but whatever). And watching the projections dissolve away into just pixels and a scared little bitch in a fish bowl helmet? Classic Theatre. But, he was traumatized by previous experiences fighting Quentin. Peter’s growth made the movie good but, his loss of innocence really made this movie kinda suck. Sure, his innocence still there—the scenes later with MJ prove that—but he’s still lost his easy trust in other people. It hurt to see. And, like, I’m not saying he can’t be more mature but, he didn’t even trust Happy!! He’s so paranoid that he’ll find his loved ones replaced by Quentin’s illusions!! It sucks!!!! Peter isn’t Peter without that sense of childlike wonder, curiosity, and helpless faith in others.

Anyway, I wanna talk about that Netherlands scene again because, holy shit, I loved it. After Peter was hit by that train (i actually screamed but the cinematography inside the train? *kiss*), he wakes up in some holding cell in the Netherlands with a band of friendly locals, and the guard, who’s talking on the phone with his pregnant wife. I don’t know why but, that scene was one of the first to make me smile? Like, it was so sweet how the other men were so happy for the guard and his wife, how they gave Peter a spare shirt because he looked cold, how Peter just broke the lock and left? How the guard was wearing Peter’s mask???? I’m in love. The next scene I liked was literally right after, of Peter limping through the tulip field, and Happy landing the jet nearby. Without dialogue, that scene is so pretty?? The petals stirring in the wave the jet left as it landed?? The HUG???? UGH! I fell in love. Another scene I loved was the scene when Peter went to Berlin to meet with Nick Fury and Quentin manipulated it with the projection technology. Even though I knew it was fake, I was worried about what was going on outside the projection (he got hit by a fucking train so,,,,,, iwas right to be worried-). Watching Peter so helpless and trying to stay vigilant was so heartbreaking, yet I was lowkey impressed. Like? How many other mean ass men could pull that off? None, next question. I can’t even think about how to explain it. I watched that scene at least 3 times, and was amazed every time, my only thoughts anxiety for Peter.

Okay, lastly, I wanna talk about the tech. I thought it was so interesting and unique. Like, I’ve played with the idea of projection in stories, or with characters as magic but, never considered applying it through technology, especially tech as capable as it is. And every scene where the projections were being used were amazing. I mean, obviously it’s CGI, but in the context of the MCU, it’s so interesting and cool to see tech like that used in a very public way. And no one knew!!! The whole system (along with Quentin and his team) was so good at camouflaging that I was fooled at the beginning of the movie. I seriously believed in the Elementals and Mysterio’s ruined Earth. It’s part of the reason I really enjoyed his character. And, like I said earlier, Peter was fooled by it too; everyone was. He learned it, eventually. But not before Quentin could manipulate the situation one last time and claim Peter called the drone attacks on London, and revealed his identity.

All in all, I didn’t have fun watching “Far From Home,” and it’s mainly because it didn’t feel like a Spider-Man movie. I enjoyed “Homecoming,” so much more. The villain was far more relatable (even though you could see it as demonizing the poor), Ned and Peter’s friendship was so wholesome and sweet, the entire cast was fun, and it was more enjoyable than watching some angry rich white man trying to kill children so he can get richer.

[unpretentiousblogging]

My first suicide note

Don’t worry, this isn’t THE note, merely me reminiscing about what WAS my first note. And anyway, starting my actual suicide note with ‘first’ would be extremely stupid and already declaring defeat...which is ironic, since, you know, suicide is declaring defeat from life in general. 

Oh god. I do this a lot. Use poor humour to deflect from my obviously concerning thoughts. But anyway, it’s fine.Back to topic. (side note; there was no humour in my first suicide note. Hmm. Maybe I should incorporate that in the next one...joke. Maybe.Hopefully. Idk)

Anyway, first suicide note. Ah yes. I was fifteen.It was..2014? I don’t really remember much of it or the details surrounding that year. Just that it was angry and sad and vengeful and full of so much...hurt.Against everyone.My friends.My enemies. My mother. 

Ah. My mother. A recurring character in every suicide note I’ve ever written. It’s not her fault. She is not per say a bad person. But more on that later. This isn’t about her. This is about my suicide note and how it ended up being the first one.

A lot had been leading up to it. I should probably avoid saying the work depressed since I wasn't clinically diagnosed, but a bitch isn’t dumb. Or I mean, she is. But not in this case. You know when you spend the better part of two months not talking to anyone and experience the crushing pressure of this giant, pressing hollowness gnawing-ness that stays there no matter what you do, that THAT isn’t normal. Or at least, it wasn’t to me.

Tbh, I don’t understand much of it. That feeling. What caused it. Why it became such a significant part of my being. I was just in a negative head space. I had suddenly become hyper aware of the farce in everyone’s interaction with me. I detested that I couldn’t study what I wanted to. I had just...a lot going on. 

And also, truthfully, I think I had been using too much Tumblr. I would see this constant downpour of emaciated, beautiful girls talking about sadness as skinny white boys with cigarettes dangling from the corner of their mouths would tenderly hold them and I guess I internalised that this was what it took to be loved and also all that life had to offer.

Love. What a funny thing I chase after.So uninterested but also so extremely curious. Sigh.

Also, funny how the very platform that propelled me into the state I was then, is what I have chosen to come back to while meandering somewhere similar to that state. Not really funny,but what did I say..force of habbit. 

Anyway, back to story. I was sad.Really sad. And angry. And the final straw was the fight with my mom. I don’t remember what it was about. Not important. Just that I realised that I didn’t want my life anymore. Any life for that matter.

So, how does a 15 year old, kill herself? Or well, try to. Because, suuurprise. It obviously didn’t work. I didn’t die. (yet) Or I wouldn’t be ‘’killing time’’ (haha) by writing this.

Well,didn’t own a gun.not smart enough to figure out how strangulation worked.House not tall enough for free falling from roof to cause desired effect. Too much of a wimp to cut veins.

The only other logical explanation was to ingest some poison. Painless. Bound to achieve results without risking grotesquely convulsing my appearance in the way that free falling or burning would do should the fail to work.

Now, we didn’t have any poison lying around the house but I remember how popularised the video of the Amanda Todd suicide was and how she mentioned drinking bleach to kill herself. So, my manic self rushed to the bathroom in search for my poison.

Unfortunately, I could find no bleach. So,I reached out for the next best thing. This anti acne product I had bought from Shams recently. It was pretty expensive and barely used but since I was going to die anyway,what was the point of me being careful with this overpriced bottle of skin care.

Yes, I decided to die by gulping down a bottle of a beautification product for my skin. Not only is that highly improbable but I think about it and snicker at the fact that is basically a twist on the whole ‘eat makeup to become prettier on the inside’ joke. I was basically annihilating all the blemishes on my inside by ingesting that bottle of toner. Pretty funny, if you think about it. Or just me?

To be fair, at the time, I didn’t think it was. I legitimately thought I was going to die.With my eyes sputtering out a tsunami of tears,I guzzled the colourless liquid from the transparent bottle and drank till there was only around 20 percent left. 

The whole thing rushing down my windpipe in one giant gulp. The second I was done with this I started freaking out. My throat burned and I felt this warm, icky wave of nausea steadily creep up on me.

You see, I stupidly didn’t wager that it would take so long.My juvenile brain had been expecting the job to be done quick and painlessly. This was neither and now my paranoid brain started whizzing like an unstoppable slot machine. I started panicking, remembering this post I had read online by this guy who recounted how his failed attempt at ingesting pills for suicide resulted in a highly painful stomach pumping experience and a life time of painful and uncomfortable digestion. I wasn’t prepared for that.I couldn’t not die and also end up with more issues on top of the ones I already did.

In a mad rush against time, I scrambled to get my phone and performed a quick Google search-what to do if you eat poison. The most frequently suggestions were to call poison control and to induce vomiting. Since, I couldn't really do the first one, I made way to the toilet and thankfully to my minor stint with bulimia (and they said eating disorders aren’t useful, pfft) , I knew exactly how to do the latter. Quickly, I shoved my fingers down my throat and attempted to force my alimentary canal to defy gravity. I alternated between this and ramming my toothbrush down my mouth and lo and behold, spurts of translucent chemical gush forth from my mouth like a faulty tap. 

At this point, I had progressed to full blown sobbing. I wasn’t able to successfully eliminate all the toxic liquid from my body and the purge had just resulted with me hiccuping incessantly and my stomach gurgling uncontrollably. Also, my mouth had a horrible aftertaste. Overall, I felt repulsive and sick and also glaringly aware of my soon to be (in my head) death.

In my misery studded mind, I made peace with my fate and decided that were I to to die, I had to make sure I hurt everyone who ever hurt me just as much as. I wanted them to feel guilty. Afterall, my death couldn’t just end with a bunch of people feeling sorry for me and the people who had done me wrong to not experience any of the anguish I had. So, I put pen to paper and began to scribble on an old English paper-my first suicide letter.

At the time, I didn’t know it was to be my first, of course. I thought it was my one and only. I dedicated this atrocious piece of writing to virtually everyone who meant anything to me in my life. Ex best friend? Obviously mentioned. Brother? Definitely to blame. Friend who cared but not enough? Special shout out.

But the star of the show, the main dedication of the bitterness fuelled literary rampage was  one person-my lovely mother. Like I said, not a bad person.  But just not compatible with me, to put it nicely. Anyway, the body of this letter revolved around her and how all the events of my interactions with her had materialised into this blame. If any one was to be guilt ridden after this entire ordeal, I wanted to make sure that it was her. 

Everyone else got a few sentences or a paragraph, but my mom, well she got pages and pages of my teen angst and venom against her. In fact, the opening of this abysmal note started off with something like, ‘’In case I don’t wake up tomorrow’’ (I wasn’t sure how effective the ‘’poison’’ would be. In hindsight, not at all), ‘’ you (mother) should know that YOU are to blame for all of this’’.

Pretty dramatic, am I right? Anyway, I don’t really remember more of what happened in the note, but basically, you get the idea of how it went, ok? 

So, yeah, after penning that intense piece of literature, I willed myself to go to sleep and hopefully die painlessly in my slumber. Or not. I wasn’t sure at this point whether I wanted to survive or not. Probably the most anxious sleep I was getting. After all, I didn’t know whether I was going to wake up the next morning or not.

Spoiler alert: I did. With relief.

And I tore up the note immediately. I think my mother had already read some of it but I am not sure if I remember entirely. I recall sitting in the car with her as she drove and a passing mention was made of it and all I said was that I had written a story in my notebook. And that was it. Did she believe me? Or did she simply not care enough? Or maybe her brain could not even begin to register that I was capable of performing such an abominable task. I don’t know. I wonder though, if she ever stays up at night wondering about what it meant. What any of it was.

I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even remember. I do. 

And that, brings to a complete, the pointless rambling of me and my first suicide note. 

good bye.

(we’ve reached the end. im not gonna go kill myself...right now. lol. maybe/ ok bye)

[real-fakedoors]

star-crossed just hit 1,000 kudos!

(klance / cinderella AU / fantasy & medieval elements)

THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR AMAZING LOVE AND SUPPORT.

like, just, wow.

I never thought this story would amass such a loving audience and im humbled everyday when i log into AO3 and see the steady uptick in kudos, comments, bookmarks all of it. I check the stats on this fic religiously and I promise if you’ve even VIEWED the fic I’ve noticed, I watch it that closely. thank you, from the very bottom of my heart; there aren’t adequate words to express my gratitude.

I wanted to at least share something to mark this milestone, so here is the working introduction to the second installment. I’m so excited to get some of my other projects finished so I can dive back into this. :)

Lance had heard his fair share of folk tales from his Mamá, about people who rise above the station of their birth, about triumphing against bitter odds, about falling in love and living happily ever after. He remembered a lot of awfully convenient montages, glossing over the finer details of consequences. What happened to the villains? Did they get thrown in jail? Executed? Or what about the hero’s best friend, ex-lover, family—do they miss the hero once they go on to live their big, exciting lives, or is it always a happily ever after?

Maybe those are just the stories people like to tell. The stories people like to remember, where everyone is happy and the bad things only happen to bad people.

Most of the tales Lance knew didn’t tell him what happened when people are stuck living in the poverty they were born into, no matter how hard they try to get out of it; or what happens when the odds are not in the hero’s favor; or how love is so painfully unconditional, and impossible to explain, and that it could kill you much faster than any magical weapon or poisoned apple if you let it.

He was staring at the pages of an old tome, thick but well-maintained, the pages all in decent shape. It had been pulled from the archives by Sir Coran before he and the others returned to Altea, and Lance had found himself zoning out on the image of a pretty blonde human in the arms of her pretty human Prince Charming.

A weird thought occurred to him: would stories be written about Keith, like this one? It was easy to forget that Keith was indeed a figure of legends, would be memorialized like all the Princes and Queens and rulers that came before him.

Would people make up harrowing things to say about them?

Lance almost laughed out loud before turning the page. “Pfft. No.”

Because, first of all, Prince Charming? Out of the long list of words Lance would use to describe his fiancé, charming was not really one of them. Irritable, thoughtful, and just mullet, to name a few.

 and, a few other small things to share in celebration, I’ve included two scenes beneath the cut

deleted scene from epilogue pt. 2 untitled dream sequence from the second installment

deleted scene from epilogue, pt. 2 conversation between paladins, Allura and Coran keith POV

[Allura continued.] “I want to give you the best answer available, I need to have all the information surrounding this whole mess first. For that to happen…” she sighed, a sound of abrupt sadness slipping through a clearly, if not expertly, worn façade. “I need to ask you all a favor, but once again, unfairly, much of the burden for this falls to Lance. It is of paramount importance that you tell me exactly what transpired between you and Lotor, starting from the first night he approached you.”

The tan-skinned teenager blinked a few times, and Keith thought he looked paler than when he and Shiro first arrived. Gently, he gave Lance’s hand a little squeeze. “Oh. Umm. I mean, I can, I just -- what do you need to know?”

Fingers steepled in front of her nose, the Princess sighed. “As much as you feel you’re comfortable sharing, I suppose, but I would say the more the better. I just don’t know enough of what the Galra have planned, or if this is connected to Zarkon, Lotor, the witch -- none of them, all of them?” she sounded unusually frustrated, a fist coming down on the table. The mouses scurried towards different paladins, leaving the two Alteans to stare at each other. Keith didn’t mind the mouse, but he did glower at Allura -- she didn’t mean anything by it, he knew, but perhaps the nonverbal warning would be enough to have her compose herself. No need to project her anger towards Keith’s fiancé.

“I — I mean, I can try, some of the stuff Lotor said was really…” he paused to bite his lip, and Keith felt a strange twist in his stomach when Lance’s eyes darted anxiously towards him. “It was sort of… personal. I was kind of trying to forget about it, to be honest. Thinking about it makes me… I don’t know, I can tell you if you think it’s important, but it might...make you mad?”

By the end, Lance wasn’t talking to Allura anymore, and Keith’s hand was moving before he could really think about it.

“Hey, stop that,” the Prince said, brushing his thumb over the abused skin of Lance’s bottom lip so he might stop with the self-harming habit. “Don’t bottle things up for my benefit. If you have something you want to say, say it. I can’t promise I won’t get mad, but I can promise I’ll get over it.”

Shiro barely concealed his snort with a cough. “Wow, Keith, that might be the most mature thing you’ve ever said.”

Keith attempted to kick Shiro under the table. “Fuck you, old man.”

That made Lance laugh, and while Pidge made a point to do a loud gagging demonstration, it did little to distract from the simple pleasure Keith felt at being responsible for eliciting such a pretty sound from his fiancé.

Lance’s shoulders were still visibly tense, but he didn’t look quite as uneasy about the subject when he met Allura’s steely, blue-soulfire gaze. “Okay. I guess, what, start from the third night of the ball? That’s when I really interacted with Lotor. A little on the second night, but he was mostly just being a dick.”

Nodding, the Princess gestured for Coran to take a seat beside her. A writing utensil and fresh piece of parchment seemed to materialize in the advisors’ hand.

“Queen Krolia has managed to supply some basic information on what happened when you and Lotor spoke privately in the infirmary, but due to the nature of your healing, the resources expended on gathering testimony, and all the other din of these past few quintant, it doesn’t appear you’ve given any sort of statement about what you and Lotor talked about -- the night of the peace summit, and then explicitly what was discussed that night in the infirmary. I know this is asking a lot, but it’s important that we’re all on the same page if we’re to try to fight whatever this is.”

“I — well — I guess I just hadn’t thought about, like, talking to anyone about it, like in a reporting-way.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before choosing a place to begin. “The night of the peace accord thing, he said I had to dance with him, or he was going to tell the realm that I was in a relationship with Keith. In retrospect, it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but he had… framed it… in a sort of shitty way.”

“Meaning?”

Lance swallowed, his hold on Keith’s hand slipping away as his complexion took on a rosy tint. “Uhh… well, he said, um… like, it was insulting to me to, ya know, sleep with Keith. He said I could do a lot better… and obviously implied that he was the better option. Like, it would have been a big scandal or something for both Keith and you, since, like, both of you were still supposed to be getting married at the time? That’s about when Coran showed up. Oh, and er, he also saiiiiiid…” his voice turned sing-songy, face even redder. “That I was special, and uh, that he would find a way to ‘make me his,’ basically no matter what. He said ‘Keith is your price’, which like, I don’t know if I’m super okay with the idea of talking about myself in those terms, but… I didn’t really have a good comeback that wouldn’t put both your reputations in jeopardy, so I just didn’t answer.”

From the side of the table, Hunk looked like he wanted to reach over and scoop Lance up like a baby. “Buddy...”

Lance cleared his throat, staring at Coran’s hand as it flew over the page, not meeting anyone’s eye. “I’m fine, Hunk. The next time I saw him was after everything, I was in that private room Sir Adam let me use. I woke up, and I was just like, bam, on the ground. It was sort of dizzying and I hadn’t been sleeping super well so I guess, I just didn’t know how to react at first. He told me back talk wasn’t —” A pause, and Lance pursed his lips. “He told me not to talk and to just listen. So, ya know, I wasn’t in a position to fight him, so I did as he said. I mean, my back was exposed and he basically was standing on me so I didn’t have a choice.”

Lance sat up, back arching a bit as he ran his hands through his hair. Keith noticed his fingers were shaking when he pulled them back down and into his lap again. Silently, the Prince was simmering beneath the surface, his blood hot and roaring in his ears. The edge of his vision had tinted red.

“And then there was a lot of the same stuff again. He was super fixated on the fact that I was with Keith. I don’t know, I feel like he jumped around a lot, because after that there was this big monologue about how the realm was about to go to war. And that no matter what happened, as long as... I was alive, there would be a war… unless I became one of his ‘consorts.’ I know, it was really fucked up.” Lance added the last sentence quickly, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Um. He went through this whole list, pretty much. He said Daibaazal would absorb Olkarion, and then Altea would be next or something. And that his dad is on some super fucked up power trip, feeling like he’s not important anymore with Marmora and Altea around. And that the guy who had the bomb, he asked me if I saw him -- I did. He looked… Olkari, but Lotor seemed like he expected that? Like, he said it was probably an Altean shape-shifted as an Olkari. Um… what else… oh, yeah. Um. He gave me an ultimatum, and said if I didn’t go along with him, my choices were:” Lance began ticking them off on his fingers, one by one. “Let Zarkon kill me, like, I think he said make an example or maybe a martyr of me or something; make a statement that I was the one who set off the bomb so I might not get literally murdered by his Dad, instead, I would, hah --” he let out a humorless chuckle -- “I could just fucking hang for it instead. How messed up is that? Or I could let the realm go to war if I stayed in Marmora. Or, lastly, I could agree to be his -- his personal bitch, basically. I don’t know what goes into being a consort but I have an idea, and I -- yeah. I didn’t have much of a choice, though I told him to fuck off and that I’d rather let Zarkon kill me with his bare hands than spend another second with him.”

Keith had never in his life tried so hard to control the devastatingly violent impulse of his Galra heritage, but his gums tingled with the insistent pressure of fangs pushing against his mouth. Even the skin of his fingers felt strange, like he could so easily just let go of his control and the tips could sharpen into claws in seconds if he let them.

Breaking Lotor’s wrist now felt pathetically underwhelming. He should have just killed him. The realm would have been better for it.

“Anyway... Lotor wasn’t super happy about that, I know, shocker. And he basically said he would buy my family, you know, since we’re all fucking slaves or whatever, if I didn’t do what he said. I didn’t -- I didn’t know what to do. I want to say I would never agree to that but just, f-fuck, I’m sorry.” Lance’s voice cracked at the end, the sound of tears edging into his tone. His arms, already folded over his chest, tightened. “So, yeah. That’s when the Queen showed up.”

“Stars above, I’m so… sorry. I had no idea it was that severe.” Allura sounded disturbed, and both Hunk and Pidge were exchanging nervous glances with each other. Keith couldn’t see Shiro, seeing as he was turned to face Lance, who was staring down at the box on the table in front of him with a clenched jaw and dry eyes.

“I’m okay,” Lance said for the second time, and some of the immediate emotion had drained from his voice. “Keith’s mom showed up before I had to agree to anything. That’s all that happened with Lotor, though. The only other thing was the vision-dream thing I had with Blue… I told you guys about that while Keith was getting his stitches, right?”

Various people nodded, and Keith vaguely remembered hearing Lance’s voice, too-loud to be speaking to people nearby but that was just how Lance was, somewhere off to his side. He made a mental note to ask him to re-explain the details to that later.

“...So, yeah. That’s all I can really remember. I don’t remember Lotor mentioning anything about Oriande or any of this stuff.”

“Yes, well,” the Princess laid out both her hands on the table, and as if a silent call, all four mice returned to her in a sudden rush of paws and squeaks. “I’m not sure of anything at this point, but I am near certain that this is the witch’s doing at minimum. Whether it is Zarkon or Lotor who she is aiding, we will still have to consider all of this information. The fact that Lotor seemed to find it unacceptable that you die, so much so that he was willing to blackmail you, leads me to believe he might be more invested in this than I had previously thought. It could have been his pathetic attempt at courtship, but I’m not sure. Whatever it is, the reality is the same: something is happening to the realm, and if more corruption like that we saw earlier from that Beast spread, I fear the whole realm may be in danger. For now, we will have to continue to gather information, try to understand what exactly they’re planning.”

unpublished from part 2:

untitled dream sequence

lance POV

His legs weren’t working properly.

Lance felt them buckling, like his torso and arms and head and heart were weighed down by the entire universe. Why? Why couldn’t he use his legs? He wasn’t even standing, so the fact that his dumb legs weren’t working seemed especially frustrating to him. Laying on his stomach, Lance pushed himself up to a sit-up, the bottom half of his body utterly useless at the moment. Ugh.

Someone was calling his name, but the voice was warbled and hard to place, like he’d been trapped beneath the ice of a lake and there was someone pounding on the other side, trying to find him.

Craning his neck, it was with a small start that he realized he knew this place, dark and infinite and magnificent in every direction, but he couldn’t move. What was it called? Why couldn’t he remember? Blue told him about it...

“Blue? Blue, are you here?” He turned, annoyed by his lack of motion, but blinked in surprise at the sight of something much, much bigger than the little kitten he was expecting.

Lance’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out.

It was the single most beautiful, overwhelming things he’d ever seen.

About fifteen paces away, a massive tree sprouted from the ground, crowded by iridescent leaves. There was no breeze that he could feel on his face or brushing through his hair, but the leaves danced and shimmered anyway. A million colors, reds and blues and greens and whites and yellows -- and every color in between, peach and cream and mahogany and turquoise and blush and lavender -- colors that he didn’t even have names for, was pretty sure weren’t even on the real spectrum of light, all glittering crystal-bright in the dark expanse of the empty space around him. In every direction, the ground was the black surface of an endless ocean, rippling when Lance moved but otherwise flawlessly reflective. It sent back an inversion of the same sight, an overwhelming sense of purity, of flawlessness, of flowing sublimity with the roots at the center.

Lance couldn’t breathe, awestruck.

What was it? Why was it here?

Oh, gods. Lance used to believe people had always been dramatic when they heard a song or saw a painting so beautiful that they were brought to tears, but this was his comeuppance for that attitude, evidently. His cheeks were wet, and the corners of his eyes were pulsing light blue.

This was definitely some sort of… something otherworldly. Magical.

Shit. Shit, shit, uhhh, fuck, this was probably important, wasn’t it? Was this some sort of dream-vision thing? In his stream of consciousness, dream-Lance tried to will himself to summon a dream-roll-of-parchment and a dream-inkpot, but all that amounted to was making him strangely dizzy.

After attempting to summon things, and dealing with the subsequent disappointment, Lance hauled himself up as best as he could with his hands, sort of like a mix between a push-up and an army crawl.

Chewing his lip, Lance eyed the immaculate branches, overlapping but never touching, a faultless flow of leaves brushing back in forth, almost lazily.  It was a sort of breathtaking, heart-stopping, gun-wrenching sort of beauty.

Blinding, almost.

[kob131]

https://sokumotanaka.tumblr.com/post/187434182297/whats-the-rvvby-discourse-this-week-im-out-of

“Oh wow so we’re back to “it’s canon until it isn’t” that the manga was experiencing, except the comics literally struck out in their first issue? Isn’t that amazing?

Hey RoosterTeeth do y’all actually care about consistency in your show or can I just take my own liberties whenever I want too?”

Did Rooster Teeth have ANY say what happened with the comics?

Do ANY of you have any proof that this was suppose to be canon? Because considering the fact that I can’t find Miles or Kerry’s names on this project anywhere, only coming across Matt announcing it which contrasts the After The Fall book which was openly stated to be worked with by Miles and Kerry: I’m gonna make a bet that this is an ‘artist’s interpretation’ thing and that Miles and Kerry weren’t involved with this at all. So I have no reason to believe this is canon.

“The problem isn’t even fully the comics fault, Miles and Kerry don’t bother committing their lore to memory.”

Of course not! Why would it be the comic’s fault despite the creator of the comic apparently never hearing about RWBY beforehand when you can jack off the ol’ MK hateboner?

“This is considering alot of lore from the WOR is constantly called into question by both the fans and reviewers/critics etc.”

By this same logic, if a bunch of SU crits all repeat some misinformed and mistaken info then that means the show failed, because it has been ‘constantly called into question.’

“ Iila pulls her unpassword protected phone out in the middle of a fight for no reason.”

Not only does this NOT have anything to do with lore but Illa ALREADY HAD THE PHONE OUT. I will admit that in the scene it does disappear from the previous episode and reappear...but you never point that out do you?

“In vol 5 yang has a talk about blake with yang and tells weiss how no one ever blamed her for anything. Miss “the innocent never run yang.” Schnee. (Btw she still never apologized to blake.)”

Disingenuious considering that they were referring to the events at the Fall Of Beacon and Weiss openly showed concern and a disinterest in Blake’s past when they found her, indicating taht she was trying to bury the hatchet.

“ Hazel’s whole motivation is that he’s mad that ozpin let his sister become a hunter and she got killed by grimm…sooooo he works for the creator of grimm.”

A bad guy having a shit reason for fighting against the good guys, probably indicative of Hazel running from his problems considering he looks and acts more and more unhinged alongside his Semblance being about BLOCKING PAIN? Wow, how unheard of!

“Salem’s dumb backstory is that she challenged the gods cause she couldn’t accept people die.”

You mean that recurring theme in mythologies or that basic human response to the cruelty of death?

“ In that same backstory she falls in a Grimm poop and it’s established that she turned “evil” yet until ozpin finds here has spent eons living in a hut not bothering anyone.”

Where was it said again that Salem never hurt anyone? Because if my memory, or you know THE RWBY WIKI ( Jinn: During his years of travel, he heard the same frightened whispers that spoke of a terrifying sorceress who commanded dark powers in the wilds among the beasts and monsters. Ozma was convinced that this witch was Salem, and decided he needed to see what she had become.) serves me correctly: Salem is never stated one way or another.

“ Regardless of all that and the fact that RT miles and kerry were asked by arksys games if they could put rwby characters in and when they asked for info they stated “read the manga”? “

Citation needed: liars don’t get the benefit of the doubt.

“They don’t give the people directions, if you listened to one panel you’d know this, they just say “go for it.” And let the manga go where it lands.”

Bitch, I have hundreds of examples of you either screwing up basic info on RWBy, being intellectually dishonest about RWBY or straight up LYING about RWBY.

You do not get to say anything without at least one source.

“ Cause they don’t care, I see people continually doing this and it’s gotta stop. Rwby was never consistent and it obviously shows, and instead of blaming properties that had to make due- why not blame the people who never bother writing anything down or expanding on lore? Rooster teeth.”

A. How many SU crits have said that EXACT same thing about Rebecca Sugar? Better start harassing her then.

B. You’re own argument has shown an inconsistency itself as you conflate ‘Miles and Kerry” with “Rooster Teeth”.

And C. You’re a known liar. You aren’t reliable in the slightest.

“ This us why so many videos like these exist fellas.”

A. That video is 70% bullshit

And B. You misspelled ‘is’. According to you, that means your arguments are invalid.

“Again you all should listen to writers commentary on the recent DVD vol, they barely remember a thing and are so dishonest to their fans for no reason. “

AKA I’m going to be as vague and inconvenient as possible so when my bullshit rebounds on me, I can dodge like Neo.

“ I’ll never understand why they choose to sabotage themselves”

Hold on, you misspelled somethings:

“ I’ll never understand why I choose to sabotage myself.”

[voidszoro]

In Denial // A Theo Raeken story

Chapter 6

Theo's pov:  (warning, a bit of violence in Theo's pov but none in Ruby's so if you want you can skip theos pov) (also update, Ruby's pov contains some hints of depression, anxiety, and mentions self harm. If you can't read, trust me, i completely understand. It was hard writing. All i want to say is that if you need help, if you are thinking of harming yourself in anyway, please ask for help. My messages are always open if you don't feel comfortable talking to anyone. I Promise i dont judge. Take care. Here is the chapter xoxo)

The dream always starts off the same way.

I wake up in the morgue. The box in which I lay is tight and dark, but beyond my feet, an infinite abyss streches out. I raise my arms over my head and push open the door to the box. It slams into the other boxes on the side and I take my arms out so I can push myself out. The cold metal trey that holds me slides out of the box and two legs, almost like a table, swing out from underneath the trey keeping me from falling on the hard tile floor. I sit up on my trey, finally out of the box and take a breath of fresh air.

The dream Isn't over yet.

I place my bare feet on the tiles and lift myself to a stand. The cool air in the morgue sends chills through my half naked body. I only wear a thin pair of basketball shorts. A woman's voice echos my name throughout the room. It repeats over and over and I get the feeling of it drawing me into it. I start to walk out of the room, pushing open the two swinging doors, but I hesitate. I know what's coming, but everytime I try to fight back, I fail. The voice rings louder as I push the doors open anyway, knowing there's no way out but through her. My sister. 

I walk down to the end of the hallway, each step I take feeding me more fear than the last.

"Theo," the voice gets louder and louder as I get closer to the end. I take a stop once coming to the end of the hallway and in front of the check in desk of the hospital.

"Theo!" The voice growls from behind me. I snap around and see what I dreaded. A teenage girl, about my age,  crawls towards me on her hands and knees. Her gaze pierces through my horrified eyes as I look down at her chest. Her rib cages poke out of her and there is an empty spot in the middle. That is where her heart would be.

This is my punishment. I deserve this for doing it to her.

She finally reaches me and I can't move a single muscle in my body like I've been poisoned by canima venom. My sister drags me down by the heel and crawls on top of me, her gaze not once faltering. The horror on my face spreads to my whole body as I scream at the top of my lungs. She takes her hand and plunges into my center which makes me squirm and scream louder. She digs around in my chest for a second until she pulls out my heart. The blood from the organ drips everywhere as she puts it inside of her own chest. She shouts at me with almost the same power as Lydia, a banshee.

"Helloooo" I hear another voice in my head. I shake my head, finding myself standing in front of Scott's front door, a hand wavig in front of my face.

"Theoooo, you still alive over there?" I nod my head.

"Yeah, sorry I was just thinking." I rub the wrinkles on my forehead caused by my furrowed brows.

"Pretty vivid thought huh? You were blank for a good minute there." She reaches out for my hand. Why is she being so nice to me?

I take her hand in mine and then squeeze it in three short intervals. She smiles at me and we stand there for a good thirty seconds until she finally lets go of my sweaty hand and opens the door.

Everyone is here. Well, everyone that is left. The wild hunt has taken almost everyone in Beacon Hills. Ruby finishes explaining my reason for being here and I step further into the small, tidey home. There are photos lining the walls right when you walk in, like a story. They hang neatly and precise. Some pictures have multiple people in them, some are just some yearbook photos of Scott. Unfortunately, I don't spend long admiring the delicate memories of Scott's family when Ruby pulls my hand and drags me fully into the living room. A tall man stands in the room, and I immediately recognize him, but Ruby takes a minute.

"Who's he?" She asks.

Scott replies, "It's Peter. As in Peter Hale." Ruby's eyes go wide for a second.

"Ohhh. How could I forget? You. Evil bitch."

"Hey, hey, hey. No need for any language Ruby. I'm actually here to help. I know where Stiles is."

RUBYS POV:

Of course I don't completely trust Peter. I never will. Even though, technically, he's my alpha. He's the one who bit me. The morning after Scott got bit. When I started taking morning jogs.

"What makes you think I belive you? What do you want in return?" My voice echos through the silent room.

"In return, I would like you to trust me. You know, I bit you for a reason. I needed a pack. I needed more power. But- but that doesn't matter anymore. All I ask is that you help me help you save Stiles so we can get Malia out too." His eyes are full of sincerity. I feel bad for him. He loves Malia. I know it.

I remember as soon as he found out that she was his daughter, he had some sort of scent to him. I've never smelt it before and it reminded me of pride and happiness mixed together.

"We'll get her out I promise," Scott is the one to speak this time. Peter might be my only chance to see Stiles again. To get him back. I know Lydia feels the same. She probably misses him more than I. I've seen the way the two look at eachother. It's mesmerizing to watch. It's love.

We go through our idea of finding another rip in the two dimensions, the wild hunt and earth. Part of me thinks we have no hope. I feel like I'm the only one who thinks that. Everyone just seems so confident in everything. Especially Scott. That's why after the pack meeting. I go home and take a long, hot shower.

The water burns my skin to the touch when I step into the wet oasis. I left Theo in my room. Unoccupied, which is probably not a good idea, but I don't  acknowledge it at the moment. I'm only focused on the burning feeling. The feeling not only on the surface of my skin, but on the inside. I feel the left over bits of passion from today start to melt away at the heat. My body tenses up, but only for a second. I close my eyes and drift off into bliss. The water running all the way down my bare body. I run my fingers through my hair and breath in the steam that accumulates in the shower with me. My mind starts racing as my body finally gets used to the warmth of the water. I think, what would my life be like if I was only human. What would my life be like without Stiles.

And then the memories flood my head, making me slightly dizzy.

(Once again, warning)

I'm sitting on my bed, a knife in my hand. I remember this day. I was exausted. I had had an anxiety attack in class that day. Everyone looked at me weird when the teacher asked if I was alright. My breaths were shallow but quick. Stiles saw me immediately and dragged me out of class. I remember his voice apologizeing to the teacher. He carries me into the girls locker room, I'm still taking quick breaths. My heartbeat increased by a million from the time I was in the class to the time I was proped up against the shower walls. Stiles had delt with my attacks before but not at school. He gets them too sometimes. He was trying everything to get me to clam down. He squeezed my nose and coverd my mouth, trying to get me to hold my breath. It obviously didn't work. I was squirming everywhere. Until I wasn't moving. The only movement was my chest moving up and down and the water that now coverd my entire body. The water even got on Stiles' clothes. He turned the shower on. The warm water engulfed me like a volcano of relief.

When Stiles walked me down the hallways to the outside of school where the Sheriff's car sat, the bell rang. Everyone in their classes came flooding outside. I was drenched in school locker room shower water and I look like I almost drowned. Everyone stared. Everyone's eyes stayed glued to me as Stiles had to forcefully drag me outside to the ride he called.

Dad dropped us home and Stiles stayed with me until seven. I remember, because immediately after he left my room, I looked at the clock as I pulled the knife out of my drawer.  Every part of me begging to take some of the pain away. I wasn't a wolf yet, didn't even know about that stuff. I didn't want to just get high, partially because I didn't know how to, it was 8th grade. I had made the decision earlier that day. I had had too many embarrassing moments during the three years of my middle school carrier. I couldn't get away from myself.

I lifted my shirt to reveal the scars on my stomach. They were almost gone. I was going to be one month clean tomorrow. Not anymore.

(Okay we good now)

I jolt back to reality in the shower. The water is turning colder the longer I stay inside. I finish my normal shower routine and switch the water off. I grab a towel from its hanger in the bathroom, dry off a bit, and wrap it around my cold body. I look up at the fogged mirror and see a smiley face drawn in the steam and "-T". I let out a giggle.

A giggle, seriously? My inner voice complains. I remember what I'm doing, which is putting clothes on, and do that.

Once im fully dressed im my comfy black leggings, blue tee shirt, and some white ankle socks with a check on the side, I step out of the steamy room. A chill sweeps through me. I quickly race to the thermostat and turn the temperature up a hell of a lot. Theo must've turned it down.

I walk into my room, seeing Theo sitting on my bed. His legs hang off as he faces me. This reminds me of the last time he was sitting like this, a few weeks ago when I let him stay in the spare room.

It's only four o'clock.

"I'm starving," I realize out loud. Theo keeps his gaze on me. For some reason, he seems to be analyzing me. I grab his hand and pull him up so he's standing. "My dad's gonna be home at five, let's get you something to eat."

Once in the kitchen, we rummage through the kitchen for any signs of food. Apparently, nobody in Beacon Hills, no pay check for the Sheriff. That also means no groceries.

I hear the front door creak open and then slam shut.

"Hey, anybody home?" My dad shouts from the living room. I go wide eyed at Theo. Dad's not the biggest fan of this boy who went to hell.

"Yeah, um- wait. I'm not wearing pants!" I shout and Theo shoots me a devious glare. Yep. There's the boy who went to hell.

"Why- Ruby." He takes a deep breath. I'm never gonna live this down.

"Just stay there, dad. Let me go upstairs." Unfortunately for me, the stairs were in the living room. "Can you cover your eyes?" He grunts a response which I take as a yes. I put a finger to my mouth and direct it at Theo. Then I signal him to follow me. He does.

I give it a few minutes upstairs before I come back down. My dad stands awkwardly in the kitchen.

"There's no food." I say. "Wanna order a pizza? It has to be that place outside of Beacon Hills."

Hii again. It's em. How was this chapter?? Also hello new readers ily sm. Ooh i have a questionnn what's your favorite pizza topping? Mine's cheese and extra cheese. Xoxo -em

Wc: wow 2171♡

[artcanary]

1-50

oh my god dude 

im gonna put this under a cut bc this is a lot. this is a ride, have fun i guess

1. Your first OC ever?god. its got to be Super Kitty. when i was like … an incredibly small child I used to draw comic strips about this feline caped crusader, who was friends with everyone in the city, and the comics always involved him stopping an evil banana man from stealing money from the local bank. He was paid with donuts for his service to the city. i still remember how to draw him. 

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?i’d get arrested if I didn’t answer this with Bronze, probably… but really, they’re very important to me

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?man, i cant remember! i really dont think i have… P:

4. A character you rarely talk about?there’s loads of characters ive never even posted a single picture of on tumblr, i wouldnt even know where to start asdf

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be? bronze is the easy answer, but… i guess that could also go to Servant or Westrin. Servant has a comic project in the works that basically stars him, sort of a series of one-shots about the things he’s experienced, i feel like that would be a good thing to take off and run with. Westrin’s just fun as hell, i love the guy.

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?real talk now… there’s at least five different characters that i refer to as a whole as “bronze-tangential”, who started out as, “what would bronze be like if they were in this world?” and then becoming their own thing within said world because i just get stupid attached 

its an epidemic

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?nearly all of them, actually. that’s the main reason i make characters, after all! too many to really go into specifics here, again P: 

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!not often, but i think Bronze and Westrin are the most common ones. unless playing a character in dnd, or running an npc in dnd counts… then a whole lot more hahaha

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?it depends on the circumstances. i don’t really like the idea, though. 

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design? Westrin’s old getup is a pain to draw, and there was one other design i did that I cant find anywhere… whichever way, i dont often tend to draw super complicated things often 

a couple fakemon ive designed though… heheh those can get pretty finicky

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”? hmmmmmmmm my immediate thought was Eric Silverdale from a comic i was working on a few years ago. hes a darling, i want him to be my friend irl

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lothow could you do this to me i love each and every one of all my friends ocs GOD the first one who comes to mind is @d20-official‘s Smith, whos Bronze’s friend… everyone in that DND party actually

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs? Rated on a scale from “harmless” to “honestly somewhat frightening”: -Baromet (charming and quite friendly but definitely a kleptomaniac),-Westrin (demigod of bards and travelers), -XEN09 (a nonsense hacker), -Conny (needlessly contrarian and dumb as HELL), -Enza Colie (long fucking story but hes a good-for-nothing), -Hemlocke (mad scientist, chaotic evil), -Iris (AI and hacker, VERY bad), -The Terminus (glitch-in-the-matrix demon, chaotic evil), -and Sydd (the Queen of the Faeries, hopefully the danger there needs no explaining :’D)

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory Mmm… there’s a few of them, most obviously Lent (whose background I did a short comic about). Basically his entire town got eaten by ghosts and turned into zombies, he only barely survived with a sliver of his soul left. 

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?yes, i often discuss storylines and such with friends

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)? Probably Bronze’s dad! I don’t talk about him much, but his name’s Devon Reed, and he was a biotech developer specialising in android design. 

I often describe him as being something of a reverse Arthur Weasley - a very fatherly scientist fascinated to the moon and back with the concept of magic. 

17. Any OC OTPs? having trouble thinking of a lot of them right now, but there’s Eric + Lent & Naiadine + Tailias from Emerald Sigil, Avken + Baromet from my space campaign world, Sydd + Wyvv from my unnamed campaign world, and I’ve been considering Westrin + Servant as an interesting dynamic in Servant’s story

18. Any OC crackships? My character Bismuth and @autistictimeknight​‘s oc Eros. Theyre so fucking in love, I love it. Its been awhile but I do still think about them sometimes.

As I recall, Eros is an empath, she can read other people’s emotions. But Bismuth is a robot, and Eros can’t read her. Because of this Eros can let go of her fear of unintentionally manipulating the emotions of her date, which would hold her back from most other relationships. 

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)Hey, meet Bronze! I definitely do not talk about them every five minutes, why would you say that. 

Bronze was with me through two of the hardest years of my life so far, and being a DND character they grew with me, both as a fighter and as a person. They were non-binary before I started using those pronouns, they were the first character or person or anything who I fought someone about using the right pronouns for, they make a great icebreaker for if I want to see how someone reacts to non-binary pronouns … 

One funny anecdote about Bronze is that when I first made them, their “gimmick” was that they would sometimes glitch out and mess up their speech, mostly because I wanted an excuse not to engage in the roleplaying (which I was very bad at). The interesting thing is that as I got better at interacting with the group, we both grew out of needing it very quickly. 

I’m very proud of Bronze. 

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?Westrin is a bard! His singing voice sounds like Bill Wurtz and these are his theme songs.

21. Your most artistic OCProbably Westrin again, he writes a lot of songs… and Hallux is a game designer?

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how? I honestly dont know… no-one talks to me about them, haha! 

people use all manner of pronouns for bronze, though. 

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?I’m gonna go with Enza for this one. Enza Colie was originally written entirely because I wanted an antagonist for a short starring his sister, Jane Colie. But the more I fleshed out his reasonings for acting how he did and explored his character, the more I realised he’d make an even more interesting character if allowed to have a redemption arc, too. 

I just want to state for the record that I was very reluctant to the idea, and he basically dragged his way out of the villain pit entirely of his own accord. I am dubiously proud of him, and also a bit scared. 

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?Probably either Eric (Big Man, Best Friend), Crocus (Mother figure), Reed (Father Figure), Westrin (hed just make a good friend u kno??), or Bismuth (she makes good conversation!)

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)probably the homestuck fan-troll Hallux, but that’s mostly because they were based on a troll-sona I made awhile ago. They’re a hope/prospit game designer who is small and full of rage and love

oh, and there’s dave! dave’s a superhero speedster, existing in a modern-day superhero version of seattle. theyre idiot, just like me,

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will? this is an interesting one… i don’t think ive ever had something Bad in a design ive done called to my attention by someone, but I did create my character Servant at around the same time I was first really expanding the diversity of my casts. (since i don’t talk about him often, a little context: he’s a magic spirit creature bound to human form to serve the royal family of the land and follow their orders.) 

somehow, younger-and-more-stupid me managed to have the revelation that making this “eternal slave” character literally anything other than a white man, especially as a white author, would be Pretty Not Good. im … thats really, really not something i should pat myself on the back for, but i do consider it one of the biggest bullets dodged in my artistic career so far that i realised that not all representation is good representation so quickly, before i could make that incredibly, incurably stupid mistake. 

after that, trying to make sure my characters and their presentations don’t harm anyone pretty much has become a paranoia. i don’t seem to have stepped on any toes yet, but when it inevitably happens, please let me know - i didnt know, and i want to fix it! 

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song? None that I can think of, actually! I don’t really do that often. 

28. Your most dangerous OC? god damn it i have no idea!!! is it the terminus? glitch in the matrix god of chaos motherfucker?is it sarle? terrifying calculating scientist with the power of the soul at her fingertips ??? is it ares??? is it athena????? is it petra?????? the gatekeeper???? 

… actually, the gatekeeper might be it, if “dangerous” just refers to “the amount of raw power it can wield”. the Gatekeeper is a titanic entity that exists in interdimensional multiverse space, and its implied to have the ability to create and destroy entire universe bubbles at will. for what cosmic purpose, no-one knows. 

at a more personal scale, though, literally all of the aforementioned characters are pretty bad to run into too. 

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they’re going?god. Mina or Tawn. Tawn is the Indiana Jonesy type and probably dumb enough, but also competent enough not to get into too much trouble there. Mina would probably drag her friends along. 

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection? XEN09. No-one knows, because no-one knows xir personal identity. Xe absolutely does, though. It’s less of a secret if you know xir in person, but good luck finding out about it otherwise. 

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)dave just reblogs memes all the time tbh. they like to keep tabs on the ridiculous superhero news going on, and they show human jokes and cat videos to their alien gf. they dont really post or add to posts, but they talk in tags a lot. 

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why? i want to say tawn because i literally just realised ive been imagining their voice as sounding like luigi this entire fucking time and i never realised until this exact instant

33. Your shyest OC?probably baromet. they prefer to keep to themself in their hideout, with their collection of shiny things. they don’t really enjoy trying to communicate much, mostly because they expect to get yelled at. 

34. Do you have any twin characters?Yes! At least two sets; 

- Crocus and Sarle. (x) (x) They don’t exactly have a very well-developed relationship, but they are both quite important to the plot of my campaign world, and they are both very interesting. Crocus is a motherly figure who just exudes friendliness, while Sarle is .. very much not that, a researcher studying very gruesome things and pushing the boundaries of reality. 

- Jane and Enza Colie. I haven’t talked a whole lot about either of them here, but I’d rather leave their story to do the talking whenever I get around to it. Essentially, the both of them were intended to do the dirty work for their crime boss family, but Jane ditched to study medicine. Most of the conflict between the two of them comes out of Enza not understanding why she made the choice she did, and coming to understand how he’s been manipulated. 

35. Any sibling characters? I can’t really think of any off the top of my head, I should … I should really work on that. 

I can talk about Westrin, though. Westrin (a demigod of many things, but namely bards, travel, travelers, and people who are lost) often becomes close friends with mortals, sometimes practically adopting them. These people who consider him family, and people who have received his blessing, are able to use his surname, Brilanta, as their own if they choose. So I guess all of the Brilantas are siblings, at least in spirit. 

Oh, and XEN09 has like, seven siblings. Xe is the second-oldest, and least remarkable. 

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)? I already talked about Eros and Bismuth up there a ways in question 18, but I’ll talk about another relationship here. @autistictimeknight​‘s character, Nova the Alchemist, is mentor and adopted parental figure to my character Munna. Munna … Munna isn’t a very good apprentice. She tries very hard. 

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human That’s most of them, I’m not quite sure what to say here. Bronze is an android? Bronze again? Westrin? All the aliens ?? 

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer? man. uh. westrin or jean. or perhaps valencia. 

39. Introduce any character you want ??? uhhhHHHhhHHH Lord Brillium is the reigning deity of the Cloud Kingdoms in the other campaign setting I’m working on. They represent light and the quest for knowledge, and spend most of their days in the Cathedral Observatory watching the stars. 

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!one time bronze flew a hover-bike through the stained glass window in a cathedral blaring all star by smash mouth on their iguana

also one time bronze rickrolled a rakshasa demon and then pulled updog on it like, two minutes later

another time bronze scared off an entire army by pretending to be an automated security system 

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)ive got a whole little folder on here from all you blessed people !!!! right now ive got a drawing quinn did of one o fmy characters as my lockscreen

but i think the one i’ll really never ever get over is this piece of Jane, by @rabendraws​ / @owoltron​: 

(i bet you thought i forgot about this, dude. dude. think again.) 

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods? this is kind of a weird question, m, I feel like Bismuth would find learning about the mythos utterly fascinating, as would Tawn. 

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confesshaha. uh. i might. 

aside from the entire “bronze-tangential characters” thing i mentioned awhile back, I tend to really like designing characters with hair color lighter than their skin color. it just looks so cool man. i love drawing freckles but dont put them on enough characters. i like really curly hair, but also really long and flowy hair. i like drawing triangular body types, and pointy/prominent noses. 

44. Something you like about your OCs in generaluhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is a really vague question. m. m. 

45. A character you no longer use?there’s old versions of characters, but a lot of my older ones have been somehow repurposed. I guess there’s Turien, my first-ever DND character, who’s just kind of sitting dead now. Haven’t really done anything with him other than a pretty recent tangential character. 

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?Not that I can think of.

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child? Im certain it’s happened, but I can’t remember any specific instances. 

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pureSpring. spring knows nothing of th dangers of the world who is letting them into fights someon eneeds to stop this

(spring roll, hehe.) 

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memesim not sure what this question is asking since many of my ocs actively enjoy memes including but not limited to westrin, dave, bronze, xen09, iris, and doctor archersen

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you wanti think. i think im going to pass on this one. i gave you the good old oc talk. your damn turn, yall: 

if you have any questions about any of these guys feel free to shoot one at me!

thats all from me im tired and its one am. techskylander you absolute madman 

[rwbyremnants]

WARNING: Nsfw for lesbian reasons.

NOTES: Hey! So this shortish oneshot is actually older than SWTD, and is the first that’s a joint effort between me, BangAYang and YangingAround. It was lost in the recesses of my external hard drive but I dusted it off and gave it a makeover, and now here it is. Happy Yuletide!

                                                 H O T    S T U F F

The door to the Beacon Academy dorm room slammed open, bouncing off the wall with a deafening thud. Framed in the doorway was Weiss Schnee, and she did not seem at all amused.

"YANG!"

Having been fully captivated with her task of fixing the damage her beloved Ember Celica had taken in their last battle, Yang Xiao Long had not heard Weiss's footsteps and was caught completely off guard. In her startled state, she managed to fall from her perch upon her bed and land on her face.

"Ow…" After a moment of laying there in her shame, she looked up at the petite woman before her, the scar over her left eye seemingly throbbing with rage. "What the hell?"

"What, pray tell, do you suppose this is?" Dangling from her delicate hand was a pair of yellow ‘boy shorts’ underwear. The words "Hot Stuff" were emblazoned across the rear in huge red letters, the tops stylised to look like flames.

"Hm?" Yang's eyes scanned the piece of cloth before her and a smile spread over her face. "Oh, yeah. I thought you could use a gift, and who doesn't need a pair of confidence-boosting panties? I mean, really, it's a must-have for your drab days of grey clouds – and lets face it, all your days are covered in grumpy clouds." She smirked cheekily.

Weiss's eyes flew wide, incensed. After a long moment, she stomped a few feet further into the room on her prissy heels and snapped, "Really? Is that why you left them hanging on the doorknob of the bathroom? An odd place to leave such a personal 'gift', isn't it?"

"Sorry, did you want me to personally put them on you?" Yang asked as she got back up to her feet, adjusting her clothing and straightening up.

Sputtering, Weiss flung them at Yang, who caught them easily. "N-no! What?! Why would you even say something like that, you dolt?! I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, thank you very much!"

"Oh come on, lighten up; it was a joke." She smiled coyly. "So you don’t want them, then? I think I might be a little hurt. I spent three days trying to find just the right ironic pun to give the Ice Queen."

"Stop CALLING ME THAT!" Weiss whined, stamping her foot. "And no, I don't want your smelly old panties! You probably left them there because you were afraid we'd kick you out if we had to suffer with the stench any longer!"

Her brow rose and her slender arms crossed over her ample chest. "Wow, rude. You think with all that money you have, you could at least purchase some manners?"

At that, Weiss looked as if she had been slapped. Regaining her composure, obviously with great effort, she said, "My manners are impeccable. And what would you know? You're just an odorific street thug who happens to have a decent weapon and a decent semblance. I don't know how you and your sister even made it to Beacon, really."

"And you're just a scared little girl who bought her way in here with good looks and daddy's money. Now that we're on the same page, I'm starving. Would you like to grab lunch?"

The offer to go eat caught Weiss off-guard. "I... but we were..." Then her eyes narrowed. "This whole time, you've just been trying to upset me, make fun of me! Like you hate me! Why would you DO that?!"

Yang let out a short bark of laughter. "Yes, because you buy gifts for the people you hate! Remind me to pick up a lovely necktie for Cardin!"

At that, Weiss glanced down at the panties on the floor, then back up to Yang's face. "Are you... those really were for me? You didn't forget them in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, they really were. Brand new and just for you." The tall blonde gave a shrug. "But if you don't want them, that’s cool. I was just trying to be friendly. Seems like most people don’t like to extend their hand to you for fear of getting slapped – and gee, I wonder why! I figured it was at least worth a shot."

Weiss's face began to redden with combined irritation and shyness. "But it's such a personal... do you know where panties GO?"

Yang flashed her a big cheeky grin as she spoke. "Oh, God no! I mean, they came with instructions but I’ve never used them before, so I got intimidated and just decided to leave it all up to you."

"You ignoramus!" Knowing that her cheeks were bright red by now, she turned and folded her arms. "Why did you think I needed panties, much less ones that say something so, so... crass?!"

“I figured the ones you have must always be up your ass, with the way you act; figured these might make you a little less grumpy."

The slow turn of Weiss's body was like the inevitable movement of a glacier. "How... dare you! I... how dare you, how DARE you!" By the end of this, she was literally jumping up and down. The tantrum brought the widest of smiles to Yang’s face, and when she started jumping she couldn’t help but laugh so hard her whole face was red.

"Oh man, was that worth it!"

Weiss reared back and slapped Yang across the shoulder with the heel of her palm, just hard enough to let her teammate know that the comment was not appreciated. "I do not have anything up my- up there! You take that back!"

Yang, still laughing, gripped her now sore arm and rubbed it. "Oh don't be so stiff, that was gold! Just put some ice on that burn and lets go get lunch."

"STIFF?!" She huffed and puffed for a moment, staring Yang in the eyes –her laughing, violet eyes. Then she rolled her own. "Your sense of humor is not appreciated, Xiao Long."

Yang attempted to pout but she was still laughing a little too hard for the full effect. "Lighten up, Princess! One of us has to have a sense of humor."

A scoff escaped Weiss’ throat as she strode from the room, not bothering to check if Yang was coming as well. After wiping the tear from her eye, Yang noticed that Weiss had stormed off and promptly scurried after her. "Hey! Wait up! Aren't you supposed to move at a glacial pace?!"

The two of them were getting better, even if it was difficult to believe. Yang could well remember the days when their fights were actual fights, and not just petty bickering over trivial matters. Weiss Schnee was the heiress to an entire fortune in Dust, and she acted like it; snooty and spoiled. But she was a good teammate, and down deep beneath the whining and the entitlement, she seemed to be a halfway decent person. It would just take them some time to find middle ground on a regular basis.

Having just spent a good two hours in training, Yang made her way into the locker room, ready for a shower. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement; turning her gaze, she noticed Weiss fidgeting with something in her locker. "Hey there, what are you up to?" she asked, using a towel to dab the sweat from her brow.

"AAAH!"

After a flurry of movement, Weiss was holding a towel in front of her body as she peeked around the locker door. "Who is- oh no, it's YOU!"

Offering a smirk in return for the expected greeting, Yang gave her a wink. "Sure is, the one and only."

"I m-mean-" Weiss cleared her throat and tried again. "So. Did you have a good, um... whatever it is you thuggish types do with yourselves?"

"Training session? Yes I did. Beat my personal record on targets taken out in thirty seconds." She beamed oh-so-proudly. "What are you up to, besides being very nude?"

"I'm not nude! I'm just... not fully clothed yet. It wouldn't be decent for me to prance around like this." Then she tried to shift the topic back again. "H-how many targets?"

"200 targets, thirty seconds, 360 degree range." Yang nonchalantly began stripping herself of her sweaty workout clothing.

"Im- impressive." It was clear Weiss was trying not to care about the damp tank top being flung on the bench, or the sneakers that thudded into the bottom of Yang's locker. But when she saw the panties once her shorts had joined the tank top, she pointed and yelped, "HOT STUFF!"

Mildly surprised, Yang glanced over her shoulder at the woman. “Why, thank you! Not so bad yourself, Schnee!” She flexed her glutes for good measure, and laughed when she saw Weiss’s cheeks get a little rosier.

“No, no! Those underwear you’re wearing!”

"Oh…" Yang craned her neck to see her own butt. Sure enough, it was the same proclamation emblazoned across her cheeks. "Well yeah, you didn't want them so I figured I'd make them look good, instead." Her tone was light and her facial expression coy.

"No, but... then whose are these?!"

When Weiss stomped over with her towel hanging to one side, it became obvious that, against all odds, they were wearing matching underwear.

"HAH! You did take them! I knew it!" Strategically, Yang had bought two pairs, hoping a situation like this might have come out in the end. "Man, was I right about picking those out for you."

“Nooooo! But- you-" Only then did Weiss realize how ludicrous it was to believe someone else – anyone else at Beacon Academy might own the exact same panties, and that she might have stumbled across them. Also, that she was still standing there in nothing but those and an undershirt. "I..."

Stripping herself of the last of her sweaty clothing, Yang picked up her towel and rubbed her sore shoulder. "I’m gonna grab a shower. You’re welcome to join me, Frosty." She spoke in a teasing tone, still half admiring the way the garment sat on Weiss's hips.

It was clear Weiss didn't even know what to think or where to look. Firstly, she was nearly bare. Yang was bare. For some reason, knowing that they had both been wearing the same design of underwear a moment ago – and that Yang had touched them both – was making it hard for her to think rationally. But that was ridiculous! They had seen each other in the locker room plenty of times. Why should matching underwear make any difference? What was the matter with her?

"I... had a shower this morning, I just wanted to change out of my uniform."

"Suit yourself." Yang shrugged, taking a few steps in the direction she needed to go before she paused with a devilish grin. "You'd probably end up more dirty than clean, anyway."

"Wh-what?" Weiss felt her mouth run dry as she glanced around at the rest of the locker room, desperately hoping no one else could hear her. They were alone, luckily; most people either showered much later, or in the morning. "Just what are you implying, Yang?"

The coy smile turned into a cheeky grin. "Oh, I don't know. You'll just have to wonder, Princess."

She didn’t bother to wait around for Weiss's rebuttal, but instead disappeared behind a curtain. The sound of a squeaky faucet being turned broke the thick silence she had left, and soon after the familiar noise of running water hitting tile followed.

A deep confusion settled over Weiss as she looked down at the towel she was squeezing in a death grip. First, they're wearing matching underpants. Next, Yang invites her to shower together. Together! And the phrase “end up more dirty than clean” heavily implied something that did not normally transpire between two women. And why did she keep thinking about Yang's body? She had seen it before, but this was not the same. There had to have been something different about it from before, but what?

It was imperative that she checked. Walking as softly as the cold tile could allow, she paced forward and nipped the curtain aside slowly, just enough to peer through...

Yang's muscular and slim body shone in the fluorescent light, the water having reflected it off the contours in all the right places. Idly, she scrubbed the sweat and grime from her gorgeous pale skin, blonde hair clinging to her body as it became heavy with water.

'This is wrong,' Weiss thought to herself with sudden realization, pulse ticking up a notch. 'Yet... I must observe her. Something is different about her, I know it!'

Yang let it go for another couple of seconds before she opened her mouth. "You know, for a privileged girl that claims to have manners, you’re certainly not using them. It’s rude to stare."

Every drop of blood in the younger girl's veins froze. Yang didn’t even bother looking back; the cool air slipping in through the opened shower curtain had alerted her to Weiss's presence a while ago. She had been discovered – Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, was peeping!

No. No, she was not peeping. There had to be something else she could do besides let that accusation stand.

"I..." Desperation forced the words out of her mouth. "I was j-just thinking about joining you, after all!"

If the way she dressed wasn’t any indication that Yang had nothing but confidence about her body, then the fact that she turned around and faced Weiss fully certainly was. "Well, I'd suggest taking the rest of your clothes off for that."

There really was no choice. Either she got into the shower, or she admitted that she was staring at Yang, which had implications that could not be allowed. "I… Okay. You promise not to make any more jokes like that one you made a moment ago? Because I can't tolerate that! I won't have people thinking such things about me!"

Yang's brow rose. "Like what? I don’t recall saying anything uncalled for."

"You know," Weiss went on as she hid her body behind the shower curtain while unclasping her bra. "Th-that comment about getting... d-dir... dirtier." Why was it so hard to finish that single word?

Yang grinned like a predator, wide and toothy. "Again, totally not uncalled for."

"But you can't! You can't say things like that while we're in there together!"

"And why not, Princess?"

“It's undignified!" Weiss yelped as she hooked her thumb over the hem of her underwear. Until the topic had been resolved, however, she couldn't follow through on the action. "People might get the idea that we're... that we've been..."

Yang stepped forward and pulled the curtain back and away from in between them. "What? Dirty? What’s wrong with that? Live a little."

Weiss gasped, pulling the towel over her chest again, backing up a step. "Wait, I- I'm not a- are you saying we should?!" Then she narrowed her eyes. "You're saying you don't care if people think we're doing things like that? What kind of harlot are you?"

"I'm not saying we should ‘do’ anything, Schnee. I’m just offering for you and I to get to know each other a little better – offering for you to unwind a little. No one else has to know, but it’s totally up to you." This entire time her tone had been teasing and nonchalant simultaneously.

Weiss decided she had enough of being the one everyone teased. It wasn't acceptable that she always got angry because she had been raised with elegance and refinement, and meanwhile everybody else got to have a laugh at her expense. It was infuriating and unfair. At the same time, Yang really did sound like she wanted to talk, to exchange ideas. Ruby was her partner, but Yang was on her team as well, and this could only help them function better as a unit. Disgusting insinuations and teasing aside, what could it hurt?

"Fine. I will shower with you and we'll see just how honourable you can be in there, harlot."

Raising a brow, the blonde held the curtain open for her. "Fine. We'll see, indeed."

Weiss merely stared at her for a long moment. "Well?"

"Well get in here! You have to be in the shower to shower!"

"Aren't you going to turn around while I finish undressing?"

"You're going to step into the same shower as me, and you think me seeing you undress is gonna change anything once you get in here, anyway?"

Weiss knew her face was already as red as it was going to get. The only way for her to save face was to pretend to be a lot braver than she felt at the moment. "Fine!"

Heart in her throat, she draped the towel over her shoulder and grasped the sides of her panties, eyes locked with Yang's the entire time as she slowly slid them down and stepped out of them. Never once did the tall blonde's gaze stray from Weiss's. It was almost like she was challenging her back.

"Great! Bravo, good job, so proud. Now hurry up and get in here; water's a-wastin'."

Jaw set, Weiss held the towel out to one side and hooked it over the nearby peg, then stepped a pace closer to Yang, fists at her side and chest heaving as they stood bare before each other. Her every action issued a challenge. Impressed with the proper girl's gall, Yang stepped aside and let her pass untouched... for now.

They headed into the twin streams of fresh water and Yang grabbed the shampoo. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that Yang's body was covered in various scars – each one a mark of a fight she'd survived, a battle she'd lived through. A reminder that she was only human, that her world was hard and real and her spot at this academy had been earned through toil and bloodshed.

"Y… " But Weiss let the word die before she finished it. What else could she say that might possibly be of any use after the hundreds of days that must have passed since Yang received each of those marks? Her finger drifted to her own scar as she finally stepped under the water and allowed her hair to begin soaking it up. They had all been through a lot, it was true, but Yang seemed content to bear hers with a smile, to forget all about it instead of… doing what Weiss did. Using it as an excuse to shut everyone out.

Stepping aside to lather the soap in her hair, Yang made sure to actively keep her gaze from lingering – especially to keep Weiss from seeing her doing so. She was letting the younger girl’s curiosity build, and thus her strategy would unfold.

"Yang?" she finally spoke up.

“Mhhm?" came the absentminded reply as she worked the rest of her long hair into a manageable mess, tangled in the suds of the perfumed shampoo.

"You can tell me this is none of my business," Weiss continued as she edged close enough to grab the soap, doing her best not to look at her teammate again. "But... all those scars on your back..."

Yang seemed unfazed by the question. Her upper body followed her hair’s example and was soon covered in the lather. "What about them?"

As she started churning the soap in her hands into a cloud of suds, Weiss asked softly, "Where... did you get all of them? That seems like a lot for someone so close to my age."

“I'm a street thug, remember? " she answered idly. "A ruffian, with no place at this school." Every once in a while, Yang's super confident and altogether high-energy personality took a passive aggressive turn in a subtle manner. This was one of those times. The small satisfaction that came from making Weiss eat her words in such a somber moment brought a light smirk to her face. "How do you think I got them?"

"Apparently, you really did get them in street fights," Weiss snapped – but even she heard the lack of bite to her tone. Stripped of both her entitled air and her clothes, she was vulnerable. She didn't like it. "Did they hurt much?"

"Some of them." Others stung more with emotional pain than physical. As some scars do. However, she didn't feel like Weiss had earned that much insight into her quite yet.

"Right."

"You don't like me much, do you?" A simple question, but one with a complicated answer, she was sure. Yang knew there was more to Weiss than the girl let on, but they had to start digging if they ever wanted to find the rest.

"Whether or not I like you is irrelevant," Weiss answered easily, rubbing the soap along her limbs, over her stomach. "We're a team now. Our grades and our futures depend on us finding a way to cooperate. But... you said that, too." She fidgeted slightly, hoping the unspoken apology would be enough.

"You'll get more clean if you use this." Yang half-smiled, offering her a loofah for scrubbing purposes. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge for too terribly long, and everyone on her team had some sort of baggage. Ultimately, she hoped their scars would only bring them together; she had hopes of being the best team they could be.

"Right." Weiss reached for the scrubby, then instinctively covered her chest with the other arm when she felt it jiggle slightly, causing her hand to miss the loofah and slide gently over Yang's. "Oops, I- sorry."

The blonde's smile only widened as she relinquished her hold on the object. "No worries."

This wasn't good. Weiss felt like a fumbling child in all the ways she normally felt like a poised and self-assured adult. "Thank you," she whispered belatedly as she used the gift to form more lather.

Having an extra one in tow, Yang returned to scrubbing the rest of her workout away, only struggling when it came to reaching a specific part of her back. "Hey, Weiss, do you mind helping me out?"

"Me?" Instantly kicking herself for asking such a stupid question, she recovered. "I m-mean, I suppose, in the spirit of diplomacy, I could."

Hanging her own scrubby from the hot water spigot, she nervously approached Yang's back, watching as she pulled her wet blonde locks further over her head to allow access. One hand was holding the spongy item over her shoulder for her to take, and she did.

"Um... just all over?"

Yang beamed over her shoulder, grateful for help with the difficult task. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Lips pursing to keep from making another biting comment, since Yang hadn’t earned it this time, Weiss reached out with the loofah at arm's length and just barely brushed it up and down the center of Yang's back, eyes half-closed as she tried to touch and see as little as possible.

"Nah, you gotta scrub it, exfoliate the skin, really get in there," Yang urged, wanting to be as clean as possible. Sure, that’s what she wanted. Sure.

"Hmph," Weiss grunted as she stepped closer. "Aren't you the demanding one?" But she did as she was told. Pushing in a little harder than she would on her own skin, she dragged it up and then down to her tailbone, where she paused. "Exfoliated enough?"

Yang smirked. "Come on, a little more than that. Don’t forget the sides, not just the middle."

Growling, Weiss braced her other hand against Yang's hip as she began scrubbing up and down, finally focusing on the work instead of her own insecurities. As she scrubbed, she asked, "You really do get filthy out there. What do you do, wrestle Beowulves for sport?"

Backfired – oh, this plan had backfired. Yang's cheeks sported a soft blush at the feeling of Weiss's hand gripped so tightly on her hip. It was just a little too close for comfort, even though that was supposed to be the idea in the first place. "Hhm? What? Oh yeah... lots of dirt. Targets. Dirty."

"Dirty seems to be a theme with you," she accused. When she noticed Yang was wobbling slightly from her movements, she raised her hand to a shoulder instead to steady her. "You didn't answer me about your scars, so I apologize if I was insensitive. I don't like talking about mine, either. It's just that... there are so many..."

“Life outside of glamour and fame is a lot harder, Weiss. People don’t constantly try to get on your good side to ride your coattails; they try to take everything from you by force instead." Yang didn’t go into detail. She would rather leave it to the other's imagination.

Weiss's movements slowed and then stopped. She wasn't sure why; she only knew that Yang had a deep hurt buried under that carefree attitude, and that she was scraping the attitude away. It wasn't kind and it wasn't showing interest. It was cruel.

"But you didn't let them," she told her teammate's back softly, hoping it would help. "And now look at you; you're at Beacon, you're going to be a huntress."

"Of course I didn't let them. I didn’t have a choice; I couldn’t let them walk all over me in front of R-" A short pause. "I couldn’t let them take me down so easily. So I took them down instead."

Panic rose in Weiss's chest. She wasn't good with people – and she was even less proficient in comforting them in times of grief. What could she say that would help? Had she ever done such a thing? Yes: once before, with Ruby. But she had coffee for a prop then, and a scrubby sponge wasn't nearly as effective. Or was it?

"You did what you had to do, Yang. It was the admirable course of action. You..." Her hands felt tingly now from where they were placed, but she pressed on, trying to finish the job. "I am proud to fight alongside you."

Few words meant more to the blonde dragon than "I’m proud of you"; for someone with such an extroverted personality, her waters ran deep. She smiled over her shoulder at Weiss. "And I'm honoured to watch your back."

Weiss's heart was pounding in her ears as she met Yang's eyes, grimacing fiercely. They both understood the importance of knowing someone would not desert you in the heat of battle... but Weiss had a feeling that her teammate had seen a lot more combat outside of mere practice.

Then she smiled wryly. "Is that 'watch' or 'wash'? I could use a turn."

The blonde gave a smirk and a small wink. "Why not both?" Promptly after her words, she swiped the scrubby from her shower companion and motioned for her to turn around. "Lets try to make you less dirty, shall we, Princess?"

"Hmm," Weiss said with false annoyance, eyebrows rising. "Princesses don't get dirty." It only occurred to her after she said it that in doing so, she had accepted the nickname. Frowning at herself, she turned away because it was easier than confronting her misstep. "You may cleanse me, pleb."

Being the cocky shit that she was, Yang slid a finger down the pale skin of the winter-haired woman's spine. "Thank you for the opportunity, Your Majesty."

"Hey, hey!" Weiss snapped, looking back over her shoulder at Yang. "No funny business, please! Just... wash!" Then she turned away once more, also pulling her hair over her shoulder the way Yang had as an afterthought.

"Oooh, excuse me! I was only paying homage to your perfection." The fire dragon chuckled coyly before setting to the task of scrubbing the skin she had admired moments before. "Is this better?"

Sighing, Weiss relaxed into the sensation. "Much, thank you." After a few more seconds of silence, she began, "Have you... no, never mind."

Pleased with Weiss's growing curiosity about her, Yang smirked. "No no, please ask, Princess."

"Okay, but don't blame me if this is too personal." Rolling her shoulders as an unconscious physical manifestation of shedding her irritation, she went on, "Have you done this a lot? For Ruby, I meant – not just for random strangers, obviously."

"Which part? Showering together, or washing each other's backs?" Yang inquired idly, scrubbing little circles against her smooth skin.

A little sigh of contentment escaped Weiss's throat as she said, "Either one... but I suppose I meant washing backs."

"I used to wash hers a lot when we were younger. As we grew older things subtly started to change, and she depended on me less. Which is fine. It's what happens when younger siblings get older." The scrubbing had gradually grown a little faster, as if the task could distract her from the subtle sting of reality.

"Oh." Very quietly, Weiss added, "I can relate. Family is like that." Then she winced and said, "Hey, um... not to seem ungrateful, but that's starting to sting a bit."

“What? Oh, right." Yang smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "Sorry about that, wanted to make sure you were really clean. You know, keep up your image as the cleanest slate on campus."

"Your tireless efforts are appreciated, peasant." Then she blinked, turning with her hands on her hips. "Wait, what do you mean, 'cleanest slate on campus'? What is that supposed to mean?"

Yang let out a chuckle and winked at the flustered and confused girl. "Princesses aren't dirty, remember? I'm just keeping up the image."

Both of Weiss's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you weren't implying that I'm mentally deficient in some way?"

It was too easy. "No, I'm implying you're inexperienced." She enjoyed being cryptic just to keep Weiss asking questions.

"Hey!" Weiss jabbed a finger into Yang's shoulder, not particularly hard, but just hard enough to be felt. "I'll have you know that I have been in formal training to be a Huntress since I was ten years old! Even before that, I took fencing, and was practicing my semblance! In what way am I inexperienced?"

Yang, with a much more devilish grin than before, stepped forward into Weiss's space, closer than she had dared before. Barely a breath between them, Yang whispered, "In all the best ways."

With an automatic step backward, Weiss began to stammer, "Oh, s-stop that, I told you not to make jokes like these! You promised to behave yourself!"

With a mock pout, the blonde cooed, "Awww, I was just trying to be friendly and answer your question." With a light chuckle, she turned from the paler woman and stepped under the stream of heated water, rinsing her skin and hair, ridding it of the suds that blanketed the surface.

"I do not think that is a 'friendly' way to approach any situation!" Weiss insisted, stamping over to Yang so hard she left little splashes in her wake. "Insinuating that you... that you and I c-could... no, no, and no!"

"Eh, you're right. You'd be horribly noobish at it, and it'd be a waste of my skill and talent." Her tone was aloof and she didn’t even bother to look at the woman that had addressed her.

"N... noobish? What does 'noobish' mean? How can we even have this conversation if you won't speak coherently?" Hopelessly flustered by the entire situation, Weiss stood as boldly as she could by Yang's side, leaning over slightly to catch her eye. "And who says your 'skill and talent' is anything to be proud of?"

“For a princess, you don’t know your kingdom well. Noobish, newbie, unskilled, green. Got it now?" She tried to keep her expression unreadable. "As for who says I have skills... well, certainly everyone that's experienced them. Five-star reviews across the board."

Deciding to ignore the comments about her being inexperienced in such things – especially because, come to that, she was – Weiss mulled over the implication. "So... one could infer from the way you say that... that you have previously... well..."

A small smirk broke through Yang’s unreadable mask. "One could infer, yes," she answered with a cheeky tone. "Or one could see for themselves."

"Stop that," Weiss said, more softly this time. She was becoming conscious of how close she was to Yang, how quick her pulse had become due to the subject of discussion. "What's it like? And don't say 'why don't you find out' again, I'm merely curious. For academic reasons."

Yang didn’t hesitate to answer, speaking with a self-satisfied grin. "It's exactly like when you touch yourself – except better, because I'm doing it."

At that, Weiss rolled her eyes, though this was somewhat undermined by her steady blush. "Don't be ridiculous. Only degenerates touch themselves like that."

"Oh my God," she breathed as if she had seen the light of truth itself, turning to gape at her.

"Wh-what?" Weiss asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"I totally get it now; you're so grumpy because you never get yourself off! Well, have no fear; it is now my personal mission to get you laid." Yang grinned widely, adding a cheeky wink to the end for effect.

"Wh-WHAT?!" Funny how the same exclamation could sound so different a second time. "To get me- did you say 'laid'?! What does that mean?!" When Yang opened her mouth, she snapped, "Never mind, I figured it out - and that is SO CRASS!"

The blonde gave a light shrug. "Hey, my words may be crass but the mouth that conveys them tends to make it all better... when put to proper use."

A long moment passed with the water falling on the two women, Yang looking smug, Weiss looking completely nonplussed. Distantly, a bell sounded, indicating the beginning of a meal period. Finally, slowly, the shorter of the two teammates found her voice again.

"Are... you aren't joking at all, are you?"

There it was, the first sign the curiosity was outweighing her resolve. "Not at all, Princess," she idly replied, subtly running a brightly-coloured washcloth over the length of her body to draw Weiss's gaze. This tactic worked, and Weiss jerked her eyes away when it drew closer to her lower half.

And then it crashed over her. She was naked, in a shower, with someone asking to do things outside the normal bonds of friendship. This was a terrible situation, indeed.

“O-oh.”

"Is that offensive in some way, Princess? That the dirty street thug would have experience in dirty street thug things?" She gave a self-satisfied smirk and then set about washing her thighs.

"W-well, no," Weiss said anxiously, watching the washcloth move up and down one well-muscled leg. "I... not the thug things. Dirty, however, I... why would you and I ever t-touch each other the way you're suggesting? We're both women!"

It took everything she had not to throw her head back and laugh at just how naïve Weiss was. "Because, Weiss, no one knows a woman's body like a woman. All the right places to touch, the exact amount of pressure to place here… or there." Her tone was husky at this point; she was laying it on thick, no longer hiding behind a playful tone. "Men use women for their own pleasure, and sometimes give some back. Which is fine, I guess. But women pay homage to other women, and worship them like they deserve. You’re never gonna have your mind blown with a guy the way you could by a woman-loving-woman, Schnee."

This was beginning to become too much for the poor, pampered girl to take in. Yang was serious! Not just serious, but insistent, and trying to get her to agree! This was a disaster!

But she shouldn’t panic. This was just another dangerous situation to navigate, just as with her training. Pulling her hair down over her shoulder to at least cover half of her chest, she said, "I-I've never even truly w-wanted to be with any guy, let alone a..." She had been about to say something offensive, but only just managed to stop herself. "And anyway, you don't have the proper equipment to satisfy a woman! Perhaps I'm not as worldly-wise as you, but I studied basic biology!"

The fiery woman's brow rose and she failed to keep all of her offense in check. "Excuse me, but I've never had any complaints. Lots of screaming, sure, but no complaints."

In a rare moment of boldness, Weiss reached forward and lightly slapped the pubic region of her teammate a couple of times. "I don't feel anything here that could do what you're suggesting, Yang! You're not making any sense!"

The taller girl was taken aback slightly by the sudden boldness, needing a moment to blink and suppress a slight groan of detached pleasure, but she grinned all the same. "Oh, you're halfway there. I keep telling you that I’ll show you, but you don't want me to, so I guess your burning curiosity and need to see if I'm right will go unattended forever."

"I just don't see what you have to show me," Weiss growled, already regretting her misstep after seeing the taller girl's reaction to it. This was mortifying. "Y-you won't explain what you mean, and you know I'm not going to let you d-do a 'demonstration', so it's not my fault I'm still uninformed, now, is it?"

"No, you're right; it's mine. Oh well." Yang didn’t say anything after that; she simply ran her body under the stream of water again, relieving herself of the dirtied suds that covered her pale skin. She had baited the lure; now she had to see if the big mouth bass that was her teammate would bite.

"I... but... you..." Both of Weiss's hands went to her scalp and tugged. "ERURGHH! Can you please just tell me how two women can do such things?!"

Her irritation was adorable and amusing. Yang looked thoughtful for a moment before she reached forward and grabbed the smaller girl's hand gingerly, raising it to her mouth, keeping eye contact as she did. "Sure. Y'see, there are plenty of ways to pleasure a woman… without a dick. And these are one of those ways." As she spoke, she brought Weiss's fingertips to her lips.

Instantly, Weiss jerked her hand away. She was no longer furious, or annoyed, or demanding. Clearly she was afraid. Both the unambiguous language and the feeling of soft lips on her fingers were far more than she had been expecting in the next instant.

"O-oh," she merely breathed, clutching the hand to her chest, eyes wide as saucers. "Without a... wh-what kind of ways?"

Calmly, Yang leaned her shoulder against the wall and spoke in a laid-back, nonchalant tone. "Ways with your fingers… tongue… hell, even foreign objects can be fun."

"Foreign- are you out of your mind?! I'm not putting anything in there! Not ever! I don't even use tampons!" Then, utterly ashamed she had just admitted that, Weiss blushed an even deeper shade and looked away. "I use p-pads." It wouldn't do to allow Yang to think she just allowed the blood to fall where it may.

Now Yang couldn’t help but laugh. "Okay, good to know! File that away for a rainy day."

This time, Weiss truly tried to think through this. She supposed one day she would be expected, as an heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, to take a husband. In that event, there would have to be at least one item allowed within her sacred place, whether she was ready to accept it or not. Logically, what was the difference?

But Yang was her teammate. Plus, she was such a brutish barbarian, full of herself. Furthermore, she was a woman. Her parents had taught her for all her life that men marry women, and even when she heard the inevitable whisperings that it wasn't always true, the Schnees quashed them with "what nonsense" and "deviants" without truly discussing the matter. Yet here was Yang Xiao Long, determined to convince her otherwise.

"Have you... really? With other women, I mean?"

There was no hesitation in her reply; she was pretty straightforward in this regard. "Hell yes. I prefer them to men, actually. Men don’t listen to your body's needs like women do."

Swallowing thickly, Weiss looked down at herself briefly before looking back up at Yang's. "Bodies? I mean... my body has needs? I haven't felt any. I'm not really sure what you mean."

"Oh yeah, your body has lots of needs. See, Weiss, it’s not enough to take care of your body nutritionally; there are other tasks it needs. Like washing, and those pads of yours. And more."

"Yes, of course," Weiss said casually, hoping to wrong-foot her teammate, regain the upper hand. Perhaps stop her legs from trembling the way they were at that moment. "Training. And showering, as we are currently pretending to do."

Was she serious? "Weiss, your body has sexual needs, as well," she stated flatly.

"Not my body. Maybe yours does, but perhaps I have evolved beyond such trivial matters." Though she turned away with her arms folded in front of her chest, she continued to watch Yang out of the corner of her eye, curious.

"Tell you what: what if I showed you, by letting you touch me? That way you can stay pure, and you get your answers." She had elected to ignore Weiss's previous statement about being evolved. “What do you say?”

At that suggestion, Weiss felt her jaw drop open. "You- with my- are you INSANE?! You want me to push my hand into your filthy..." At the last second, she somehow managed to rein in her tirade. "Alright. So maybe it isn't filthy, especially because we're currently showering. So I apologize for saying that."

Yang's brow had never risen, and then risen higher, faster in her whole life. An apology from the Ice Queen herself? Deciding to grant her a small mercy, she didn't focus on that and instead went on, "Also, I'd like to point out that you’d be lucky to fit three fingers in me, let alone your whole hand. I don’t know what you got going on, but I run a pretty tight ship – if you know what I mean."

"That isn't..." Weiss sighed, shifting uncomfortably as her eyes unwillingly fixated somewhere in the region of Yang's hip. "Wh-why do I suddenly feel like I'm bathing with a boy?"

"Because you stepped into a ring with a big dog and you were wholly unready to run with the pack," Yang told her matter-of-factly.

"Dog is right," Weiss scoffed. "You... on a scale of one to ten... how serious are you about letting me do that? Not that I care."

"A very solid thirteen."

That made her head feel a few ounces lighter. "Really? Wait... are you... experiencing those kind of urges? With me in here? Right now?" All she gave Weiss was an aloof shrug and a cocky smirk. "Because of me? No, not because of me." Weiss shook her head firmly. "You've just been toying with me because you're already, um, in that type of mood. Right?"

The grin just got wider, watching the normally self-absorbed heiress fumble over her words. Yang gave a very obvious leer down at Weiss’s body as they stood there. And then, though it was the tiniest flicker, Weiss felt something like a hot prickling in her lower regions. None of these sensations or possibilities were familiar, and they terrified her.

"Why?" she whispered softly.

For a moment, Yang was caught between being a complete cocky ass and being a real sweetheart. "Because you're beautiful," she spoke softly. "And my god, that ass of yours." In the end, she had decided somewhere in the middle was best.

Instinctively, Weiss's hands whipped back to cover said ass, but then she realized how silly that was when she was facing toward Yang and moved them back in front of herself, folding them in front. "You... a thirteen out of ten isn't mathematically possible, but if you mean that... if you really want me to... no, no I can't! How could I? This just sounds wrong in so many ways! I wouldn't even know how to start!"

"Why, it’s simple! Just start with a single touch." She spoke as she took a step forward. "A simple caress, that leads to a spark... that leads to a fire... that leads to a blazing inferno." Wow she was laying it on thick.

"Really?" Weiss said in what she hoped was a deadpan. "I just touch you? Fine, here." She raised one hand and laid it on Yang's elbow. "When do the fires start?" "When you place the other hand on the other side, and I lean in real close..." As she spoke, she stepped even further into the younger girl’s space. Yang’s face was two inches away from Weiss's as she spoke. "And tell you how beautiful you are… and how lucky I am to be here, this close, with you." Saying the right thing at the right time was like an art for her.

Suddenly, Weiss felt very small and very weak in the shadow of the taller and more self-assured woman. Yang oozed confidence in equal part with sensuality. That Weiss even noticed her sensuality was cause for alarm. "Lucky? Being in the room with me makes you feel that way? I... why?"

"Because you are one of the strongest, most confident, refined, pedigreed women I know, and you have no reason to waste your time talking to street trash like me." Her lips barely brushed Weiss's ear. "But here you are..."

"I... I know." Weiss couldn't move. Her hands lifted to push Yang backward, but she couldn’t manage it. The caress of air on her ear was paralysing somehow. "I m-mean... all those things you said are true, of course. I know objectively that people consider me to be pretty, and, um… whatever. But why... when you say things like that, why does it sound so different?"

Then, slowly, she moved the hand from Yang's elbow to her side and simply held it there, not even sure why she had. Testing the waters. It was smooth and warm to the touch. Something in her heart felt sick but it was too late to back down.

"Because I mean them," Yang answered simply. "Contrary to popular belief, I’m not just blowing wind up your skirt." And in a way, she really wasn’t. She had been interested Weiss for quite a while, and begrudgingly liked her spunk even if it was with a side of entitlement. To what extent she liked her remained to be seen.

"Just... sorry if I'm being repetitive, but this is so new to me. How much did you mean it when you said I could... could try it out on you, to know what you mean?" Weiss tried to swallow. It didn't work. Her next words were raspy as a consequence. "Because... if you're sure, then... I..."

Yang smirked and let her breath tease the smaller woman’s ear again. "I meant every word of it. You can do as you please." She lifted her fingertips to trace the contours of Weiss's arm idly.

A shiver passed down Weiss's arm at the touch. She was so far out of her depth... but Yang wasn't forcing anything. Teasing, yes, forcing, no.

"Okay," she whispered as her hand drifted down over Yang's hip. "Stop me. I mean... stop me if you should wish to change your mind, of course."

For a moment Yang's heart stopped. This was happening; it wasn’t a game anymore, she had won… hadn't she? "Of course," she reassured the white-haired woman. The blonde took a deep breath and awaited whatever Weiss would allow herself to do.

Belatedly, Weiss realized she had really meant it when she said "stop me". She wanted to be stopped by some outside force, because her body seemed to be determined to follow through. And follow through it did.

It was like a shock of electricity when her fingertips waded through the thicket of blondeness above Yang's center. Her heart sped up and her breath came faster once her brain registered where she was touching. Of course, she had touched there scant moments ago in a moment of jest, but this was not the same. This would lead elsewhere.

A soft exhale wafted over Weiss's neck as her fingers inched downward towards her most sensitive area. "Mmhh…" Yang was careful not to touch Weiss too much; she didn’t want to push the girl into anything. If this was going to happen, it was going to happen on Weiss's terms.

"I... I'm going to go further." She didn't know why, but instinct was telling her to put her other hand on Yang's back – so she did, just in the center, feeling wet hair under her palm. Her fingertips inched lower, listening for any change in breath, any protestation. This couldn't be something Yang really wanted, could it?

Instinctively, Yang's hips rolled into the other's touch, a soft moan escaping parted lips as Weiss's touch lowered. "Please do," she chimed lightly.

"This is completely insane," Weiss breathed shakily as she continued to advance. "Don't know why I let you talk me int- into... o-oh, I think I f-found you." The softness that her middle finger came into contact with was strange enough without the sheer amount of moisture that clung to its surface. That couldn't just be from the shower they were in, either.

"Please, Princess, of all the crazy things you could be doing, this is by far one of the less insane ones." The last word was something more of a whimper. "And y-yeah, that’s me..."

Of course the sensation was familiar; there had been a time or two when Weiss came into contact with herself when washing or adjusting her underwear. However, when she did so, she did not make sounds even remotely close to the ones Yang was making. Biting her lower lip to keep from asking another inane question, she slowly moved her hand further inward until she could feel Yang running the length of her finger, feel it on the fingers to either side.

It was hard for the blonde not to grip Weiss's shoulders, but she kept her hands to herself anyway so as not to scare the smaller woman off. The sensation felt better than she had expected, if she were honest with herself; it apparently had been longer than she thought since her last escapade. "Mmmhhh… that feels good…"

"Of c-course," Weiss breathed, struggling to keep the complete and utter shock out of her voice. "You're being touched by a Schnee. We don't do things halfway."

Of course, they didn't do things like this at all. Biting her lip harder, she slowly moved her hand backward and then forward again, watching this ghastly show play out in front of her and listening for Yang to protest.

A subtle blush overtook the pale skin of the taller woman as the sensations echoed through her nerves. Yang was careful not to make to many noises; didn’t want to freak the newbie out. However, this was proving to be very difficult. Unable to stand it any longer, Yang's hand slowly lifted to run her finger tips down Weiss's arm, a soft moan escaping her lips.

A nervous laugh escaped Weiss's throat. "Okay, y-you can't do that while I'm doing this," she squeaked as she felt her other hand ball into a fist against Yang's back. "Don't touch me. I'm s-supposed to be touching you, right?"

"My bad, Princess," she half-chuckled as she was scolded, withdrawing her hand. "Its just hard not to with your fingers doing such a good job."

"Am I?" Licking her lips nervously, Weiss stepped a few inches closer. "This is my first time trying anything like this, so if you were to, uh, direct my movements somewhat, I would appreciate some instruction. That is, if I need any." Trying to recover her pride, she added, "Perhaps I really am doing it perfectly already."

A soft snort broke the awkward silence that fell between them, and on its tail, the blonde said, "Quick circles and a thrusting motion in the right spot, it's... pretty simple." She paused to grin wider. "I'm sure someone as skilled and perfect as you would have no problem catching on."

Weiss allowed herself a light chuckle, but it sounded more like a cough due to her nerves. "Yes, yes. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some circles to attempt." Which she did. The way the thin ribbons of flesh slid over her knuckles felt so unnatural that she shivered, but she persevered, determined to see why Yang cared so much about this activity.

"Well, excuse me, your majesty," Yang jested. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her hands to herself, so instead... Yang kept her hands to herself. Slowly, she slid her fingertips up her stomach and over to grip her own breast firmly, humming happily at the added sensation.

It was with morbid and detached fascination that Weiss watched Yang touch the rest of her body. She wondered for a second if this meant she was doing something wrong, hurting Yang, but that didn't seem right. Therefore, she simply kept at it, watching intently for any sign of change. Meanwhile, her own heart was hammering in her chest, and the heat she had been trying to ignore further down on her body was becoming more insistent. This wasn't really something a person could just do to another person, was it?

Practiced fingers worked her breast expertly as Yang bit her lip, trying to stifle any sounds of pleasure that came from the mix of the two touches. Even still, she couldn’t hold back the low needy groan that slipped past her lips.

Another step closer. Weiss felt her hip just barely brush Yang's and froze in place, shivering; this was too close, but she couldn't back up now without seeming like a coward.

"Are... you doing okay?" she asked uncertainly as her fingers continued to drift in lazy circles.

Another cheeky grin disturbed Yang's expression of ecstasy as she replied to her momentary companion. "Oh yeah, doing… mmhhh… just f-fine… you should go a little faster."

"Alright." Her fingers began to trace a quicker circle, feeling both them and Yang's body getting warmer with each movement. "Just, um, tell me when I'm supposed to go inside. Still can't believe you really do that."

Yang's hips slowly started to roll into the attentions. "Y-you can go inside now if you’re brave enough, Snow Angel."

"Really?" Trying to distract herself from her building panic – and other things building elsewhere – Weiss readjusted her stance again but felt herself standing on Yang's foot, so she hastily stepped over. Alas, that put her body even closer than it had been, her stomach pressing into Yang's side. They were so near now. "Um... h-how do you know? When it's ready, I mean. For academic purposes."

"How do you know what?" Yang inquired, wholly enjoying Weiss's closeness more than she intended. "When you’re ready to go in?" Weiss merely nodded as her body began to adjust to Yang's mild and comforting heat against her front. When had it become comforting? "Slide your fingers further down; you should be able to feel a substance of different consistency than the water. Thicker. When there's plenty of that... mmhh... that's when you know you're ready."

That wetness was an indicator of that? "I see," Weiss said softly. "You know, I was going to ask about... nevermind." Then she cleared her throat as the tip of her middle finger began to edge the soft lips aside. "Just... put a finger right in there? Just like that?"

"Y-yes, just like t-that," Yang mused, exhaling softly, heart racing in her chest.

"Well, you're the expert, I suppose." Then, biting her bottom lip hard, she began pushing the finger inward, just a tiny fraction of an inch at a time, her movements more like a thief trying to break into a house without waking anyone rather than someone being intimate.

"Don't be afraid of it, Weiss; you're not going to hurt me."

If it had been anything else, Weiss would have shoved the finger in roughly in protest of Yang's goading. Still, she did take this as a cue that she could move faster. When the finger was in to the second knuckle, she whispered, "H-how's this?"

The elder girl bit her lip, head spinning dizzily. "Yeah, that’s good... n-now curl your finger slightly, and continuously do that..."

Weiss did as she was told, purely because she had no other notions. The strangely rumpled-feeling insides of her teammate caused her some concern, but she supposed she would feel less confused if she had ever explored her own body in this way. This was probably very natural.

Then she felt gentle resistance against her fingertip. "Oh! I... did I go the wrong way? What is this?"

"N-no! Not the wrong way!" Yang all but moaned. "The very, very right way... tha-that's what you want to stroke..."

"Okay," she whispered as she continued to do so, trying not to think too deeply on the murky wetness she was feeling all around her finger, about what she might or might not be prodding inside Yang's body. "Okay, I- and this feels good to you, does it?"

"Mmmhh, that's called th-the g-spot. It's a s-sweet spot of n-nerves."

"G-spot, hmm? Wonder what the 'g' stands f- you know what? Don't answer that." Purely out of nerves, Weiss quickened her movements, listening for whether or not that was pleasurable to her teammate. How could this possibly be something she wanted to pursue? It seemed irrational... and yet Yang's head lolled back and her hands slipped into her hair, a low moan telling Weiss that her actions were doing what she had intended.

It was all Weiss could do not to flee the shower and hide under one of the locker room benches. In truth, however, she didn't want to. This encounter was too intriguing, too scintillating to completely ignore. Her hand was curling as she stimulated this "g-spot" which Yang swore gave her so much pleasure she was barely rational.

She could feel it building. So soon? Too soon. The blonde was already close to her end and Weiss's lightning strokes were not helping in the slightest. "G-geez, I-I'm getting... c-close already. Wow!"

"Close to what?" Weiss asked, almost entirely focused on what her hand was doing, her own breath coming slightly faster from the effort.

Was she really this naive? "T-to orgasming!" she spat out. "My God, what d-do you think?!"

"Orgasming? Y-you mean that thing that people do when they make a baby?!" A squeezing sensation hit Weiss in the chest but she forced herself to ask rational questions instead of panicking. "But we can't make a baby, we're both girls! Right? Right, Yang?!"

It was almost enough to kill the whole mood, had she not already been so close. But Weiss's movements only grew more jerky and strong in her state of near-panic, which practically tore the next words from Yang's throat. "No! No babies! Don't st- don't stop!"

Nearly in tears, Weiss did not relent and heightened her pace. Yang's words shouldn't have been all that surprising; still, it was a relief. Having put that worry to rest, she whispered, "Okay... okay, I won't stop! You sh-shall have your orgasm!"

It wasn’t even a full two seconds later that Yang’s climax ripped through her, and she sang Weiss's praises to the gods, one hand having instinctively gone to rest at Weiss's lower back. It was more than the shorter girl would be ready for but it was impossible for her to do anything else in the midst of her passions.

"A-AH!" The fingertips in the small of Weiss's back caused her to gasp aloud, a trembling shooting down to her knees. Why did she feel so strange when it was Yang receiving the treatment?

Nearly a full minute passed, filled with nothing but panting and shivering. When they had both regained their breath, Weiss glanced up at Yang, trying to ascertain whether or not she had recovered. "Well, that was... I hope you are s-satisfied now. A-are you?"

It took the blonde a while for her to resist panting, only a quick nod following her question. Instinctively, she pulled the girl in closer to her, recovering from the height if her climax. She swallowed, finally regaining her voice. "Satisfied's an understatement. Damn… how have you not done that before? That was... Wow."

"Of course I haven't done that before!" Weiss snapped, positively trembling in Yang's arms. Much more discomfiting than her closeness was the way her most intimate area was now pressing quite hard against her the taller woman's hip. Heat blazed into her cheeks. It felt... not altogether bad.

However, she couldn't let that be too obvious. "Wh-what are you trying to do to me now? Do you want a kiss or something?"

"Well, if you're asking." The taller girl looked down upon the heiress, noticing how she was pressed up right against her. How her legs were brushing against hers. Was it the fact it was The Weiss Schnee that made her blush or the fingers that were still inside her.

Speaking of which... "You can take your hand away now, Princess. All done."

"I can wha- OH!" Never had Weiss's hand withdrawn from any surface as fast as it did from Yang’s wet folds. "Yes, of course I could! I'm just... all of this is very new to me, okay?"

Now she wasn't sure what to do with said hand. It ended up on Yang's hip, which made her feel as if she were returning the embrace, despite the fact that she was only doing it so her arm wouldn't be flapping about in midair. Then she looked meekly up at into the violet eyes above her and waited.

Although somehow she knew the placement of the heiress's hand was unintentional, she couldn't help but look down at it. Why did she like it so much? It wasn't even a sexual touch, and yet it was something she craved. Her closeness.

Something else was running through her mind. Although she had teased Weiss about it, she had no idea it was actually true. "You didn't know what an orgasm was? Really?"

Rolling her eyes, Weiss pinched Yang lightly for good measure. "I knew, but… I just didn't fully appreciate that it happened... you know, outside of procreation." Then she fired up again. "Don't make it sound like you know so much more than me, okay?! I'll have you know my education cost thousands of Lien and was tended to by the top professionals in the-"

"But not one of them gave you ‘birds and the bees’ talk, huh?" The thought made her chuckle, but in a way she felt terribly sorry for the girl. For someone who stood her ground firmly, who had all the book smarts, she was terribly misguided when it came to the affairs of love. It was all the more obvious that while Weiss had the book smarts, Yang had the street smarts. "Look, an orgasm's perfectly normal. You can even do it on your own. It's actually really good for you."

"Really? And how is that?" She swallowed. "I mean, s-sure, it looked like you enjoyed yourself, but I can't imagine many health benefits arise from... from braying like a donkey!"

"You know when you work out really really hard and you're out of breath? It's like that. Your heart is faster, and it kinda clears out the pipes."

The look Weiss was giving her was still heavily skeptical. All the same, she found she was swaying slightly back and forth. Why? The answer did not readily present herself at first; perhaps it was just a nervous tick. But the longer she did it, the more she began to suspect that it was because Yang's thigh meat was grinding against her.

"Can you... do me a favour?"

"Hmm? Whatcha thinking?" she asked, looking down at the girl.

"Could you... describe it?" One shoulder shrugged an inch as she averted her eyes. "Not the, um, orgasm. But wanting one; arousal. What does that feel like?"

“Kinda wondering if you'd be feeling it right about now." Though confident, it took her a while to come up with the right words. How does one describe a sensation like it? "It's like… hunger. A tingling sensation, below your stomach. You feel an urge to do things... To have things done to you. It feels good, but satisfying it is even better. That answer your question?"

Weiss took a long moment to absorb that. Along the way, she was still pressing herself against her teammate. "Suppose... hypothetically only, of course... that I were feeling warmth down there, and the tingling you described. That would mean I was aroused, wouldn't it?"

"Sure would. Tends to be the longer you go without getting off, the worse it gets." Noticing the girl was brushing against her, Yang pushed her leg forward onto Weiss, managing to guide it between her legs. "My guess is, right now, someone's a real horn-dog."

"Ah!" Weiss gasped as she clenched her thighs together to stop Yang from pressing against her. "Nn-no, Yang, wait! Wh-what should I do?"

From seeing Weiss's reaction to her advance she hesitated a moment. But she was good at reading her teammate's expression. The crimson blush, the questions; it was obvious that she truly didn't know about any of these feelings. Even until that point, Yang had wondered if Weiss was feigning ignorance, but clearly she was not.

"If you really have never gotten yourself off before, might be a good idea to start. Would relieve the stress, and would stop you feeling aroused for a fair while."

Scoffing, Weiss tried as hard as she possibly could to keep her hips from grinding against the leg beneath her. It wasn't working. "Like it's s-so easy. Just reach my hand down and do what I did to you a minute ago, huh? I'm so sure."

Yang nodded, however heat rose to her cheeks again when thinking of what she could do. She could show her how, or better still, do it for her. She could watch the heiress unwind before her. "That's how you'd do it alone, yeah. Or…" The leg pressed up against her again, hands reaching to her lower back to hold her closer. "Like I said, having another person help out is way better."

A loud cry burst from Weiss's throat when she finally felt Yang's thigh flush up against her inflamed sex. Her defenses had failed. Her protests had fallen on deaf ears. Yang had not pushed her out of her comfort zone too quickly, but rather used time, patience, and persuasion... and it yielded the same result.

"I-I'm scared," she admitted without meaning to. "B-because I don't know what to compare this feeling to, it's s-so weird! Does it hurt? Do you have to hurt me first to make it feel good?! I don't understand!"

"No. If you're aroused enough, it shouldn't hurt at all – especially if you’re with somebody as good at this as I am." Regardless of if they would or wouldn't initiate said act with one another, she felt the need to say such a thing. Yes, it could be that Yang would show her what it was like, what an orgasm was. But she cared enough for the girl to let her know this in case she wanted to back away, to go off and experiment with a boy instead.

And yet she wasn't moving any time soon. Weiss was curious, wanted to know how it felt. Wanted to satisfy herself, or the knowledge of how to do so. And Yang could show her.

"If you're curious, I can take care of it for you,” she whispered when the Ice Queen didn’t respond. “Just like with me, no one needs to know. You'd just feel what I felt. You'd understand why I was making those sounds. But, you can walk away if you don't want to."

Even as Yang was still talking, Weiss began to shift her hips back and forth ever so slightly, feeling the pressure amplify that tingling sensation, the taut heat that blossomed everywhere it touched. The need to continue was starting to outweigh her misgivings.

"Wh-what happens... if I just do this?" the heiress whispered as her thighs shifted farther apart, as she widened her stance to accept more of her teammate's leg. "What do you even call this? It has to have some k-kind of offensive name."

"Grinding?" The girl asked, pressing her leg firmer up against her hot sex. She was able to feel the intense wetness of the heiress, regardless of the shower. She needed this. "If you want to do that, go ahead. That's one of the things they don't teach ya at school."

"B-but I feel like some kind of animal!" Nevertheless, her hips were moving faster, and she wrapped both arms more securely around Yang's waist and rested her face against the side of her chest. Noticing this last part, she whispered, "I... is this okay? My face being here, I mean."

"J-just shut up and enjoy the ride, Princess," she encouraged. Truth be told, the feeling of having someone pressing right up against her breast was quite nice. She enjoyed the attention of it. Which reminded her of another method she had to teach her. "Put your hand on your boob like I did. That can help, sometimes."

"Put what where?" One of Weiss's hands released Yang's hip to reach up and squeeze her modest asset. "Mhhh... but that... why do I like that? Touching my boobs has never felt remotely pleasant before, I... do you like that, too?"

"Who wouldn't love mine? Look at them!" Although she laughed, she knew that wasn't what the girl meant at all. The sensation was indeed something she enjoyed, it helped her reach her peak. And kept her hands busy. "But yeah, if you're not going deep, it's an extra thing to help get you to the finish line."

But in order to help Weiss further, she pressed her leg up against her sex even firmer, hands wrapping around her back to help her push back and forth.

"Yeah... look at them..." Almost without any conscious thought, Weiss released her own breast and caressed Yang's. It was smooth round, and had a pleasant buoyancy to it that worked in tandem with its weight. Perhaps it was only because she had just been doing the same thing to herself, but knowing how it would feel to Yang when she did that only served to strengthen her arousal.

And that gave Yang an idea. "If you wanted... We can make this really intense. For both of us."

A humourless laugh threaded through Weiss's tentative moans. "Your ideas seem to lead to a l-l-looot of trouble!" Unable to help herself, her teeth clamped down on the side of Yang's soft breast for a half-second as she rode an unexpected flare of heat. "I... what did you have in mind?"

She moved her hand to Weiss's lower back, holding her in place as she shifted her spare leg across; trapping one of the heiress's legs between her own. She would be able to feel it pressing against Yang's sex, the wetness that was coating her fingers now pressing firmly against her legs. She rocked back and forth herself against it, mimicking Weiss's movements. "If we both do it, at the same time... I mean, no reason we can’t make this a two-player game, right?"

"O-ohhhhh, but you feel s-so..." Weiss had been about to say "slimy", but instinct told her this would be a bad moment to say as much. Worse still, she found she didn't mind at all. Now her face was resting against two pillowy mounds that jiggled slightly with every motion, and she wasn't sure if she was comfortable with that.

"Yang? Do you... are you ready for another one? Is that why y-you moved my leg?"

"I am, if you think you can handle it." She moved Weiss closer still, encouraging her to continue her previous movements. She found when she did so, and when she moved forward herself, the two would meet in the middle. And bodies pressing up against one another only heightened her arousal. God, was she ready for it. "So do you wanna feel an orgasm or not?"

"I... I think I…"

Something was distracting Weiss from being able to finish her sentence. An urge she had never anticipated. It was very odd, indeed, but then again, so was everything else that was happening. The biting had planted the seed. Now all that was left was to explore what fruit it bore.

As they shifted against each other's thighs, Weiss moved the hand still on Yang's breast to raise it higher. Trying hard not to weep in frustration at her own strange yearnings, she then took the nipple into her mouth.

"Wha-AH!" She hadn't expected that at all! Not for Weiss to suddenly seem to dominate her, to stimulate her even more. The feeling added to her grinding against the heiress's leg was phenomenal, and bought forth heavier breathing.

"I'm sorry!" Weiss burst out immediately, head drawing back to gaze up at her friend. "Did- was that too much, are you okay?"

She shook her head. “Fuck no! Weiss, you’re so good!” If anything, she wanted to return the favour. But in the midst of pleasure, in the middle of pressing her sex against Weiss's leg as close as she could, in feeling her do the same; she didn't know how.

Instinct took over. She couldn't help herself. The blonde leaned forward, mashing her lips against the Heiress's in their heated exchange, tongue flaring out to meet it's partner right away.

Instantly, Weiss was screaming. Screaming louder than she had ever screamed before - but all the sound was going into Yang's mouth, there was nowhere else for it to go. Her first kiss! Her first ever romantic kiss, and it was with Yang?!

Hot anger and sadness tried to overpower the arousal, but they only served to drive it onward, to make her hips shift faster and faster as a foreign tongue wrapped itself around her own, as her hands raised to alight upon the head and back of the woman showing her things she had never imagined in her wildest nightmares. The hand on the back felt numerous scars and slid over them, feeling her anger ebb slightly with every single one she touched until that hand was resting on on a firm backside, her fingertips pressing in to hold Yang's shifting hips even harder against herself, to spur both of them onward.

Moans poured forth into the heiress's mouth as Yang pushed herself faster and faster, matching her pace in order to spur herself on, to have a second climax. It wouldn't take long, not after the first one. The tongue brushed everywhere it could; the underside of Weiss’s, and even the roof of her mouth and the bottom of her lips. A hand of her own slipped down to Weiss's backside, squeezing gently as she brought the girl under her own power, pushing her back and forth against her leg instead. What was happening to her? Why was she so desperate for her teammate to finish rather then herself? Why did she care?

Something was about to happen: something big that couldn't be easily overlooked. Of course, Weiss had a feeling it was an orgasm, but never having felt one before she couldn't be completely sure. What should she do? Keep going? Ask Yang to stop? Ask Yang to go harder? The sounds coming from her and vibrating against the tongue tangled up with her own gave plenty of evidence that this was going to be spectacular, whatever it was.

In the end, all she was capable of doing was going harder herself, hips nearly slamming against the leg under them as she tried to coax every last bit of pleasure from every last action.

They were both close. Yang felt every movement, the twitching in her leg, the warmth of her sex, the vibration of her mouth; Weiss was close to her climax and she knew it. So what could she do to make her first orgasm magical? In the end, she redoubled all efforts. She grasped her backside firmer, pushing her against her even more forcefully, whilst her spare hand went up into her hair, grasping some and pulling it rather firmly. Her tongue then began to brush against the underside of hers, continuing to do so until she reached her climax.

It was like a freight train running over Weiss when she finally reached her end. Shaking and vibrations, and heat, and sensations that she had absolutely no words for that were stronger than the ones for which she already had no words. In that second, everything was beautiful, and she wanted to stay in it, to hold Yang against her body and never let go until the world fell apart.

Then the heat began to dwindle downward, her heart slowed. The screaming she had been doing finally became apparent to her, and she stopped. Breathing ragged, she withdrew slightly from the kiss, her teeth raking over Yang's lower lip as she did so.

In that time, Yang’s thrusting tapered off and stopped. Although she wanted to continue, to reach her own climax once again, she was more concerned with her teammate. It was her first time, whilst in comparison, Yang had done it far more times. She could always finish herself off later. Finally drawing her lips from the ice queen's, she pressed her forehead against hers, allowing them both breathing space as her grip loosened from her backside and hair. Between ragged breaths, she spoke.

"And that… is an orgasm."

"What... what did you do to me?" Swallowing thickly, Weiss's hand came up to rest on Yang's collarbone. "All of that... that wasn't me, I... it was like something took over my body, my brain, it..." Her back shivered and she nearly collapsed. "A-ah! I'm so weak now, why..."

"You're worn out, don't push yourself!" The girl couldn't help but laugh, holding her upright against her, allowing her to use her leg for support rather then to continue grinding against it. "I barely did anything; that was all you and your instincts. Listen to your body and it will rarely steer you wrong, dude."

Then Weiss buried her face against her own hand, shaking as she sobbed quietly, "Y-you kissed me. How dare you. How dare you take that liberty while I... there was nothing I could do, how could I have stopped you? D-did you know I've never been kissed before? Did you? I... I wasn't expecting that!"

The once confident expression vanished. The blonde then moved her head away from Weiss's, softening her grip even further just so it was holding her upright, nothing more. She had no idea. "Shit, I… I'm so sorry. Really, I thought you at least had tried that! But... I was running on instinct, too – when I did that, I mean."

"WHO would I have kissed?!" Fire brought her back straight again and she glared up into Yang's eyes. "Do you think anyone in my life has been worthy of receiving a kiss from Weiss Schnee? Of course not! So what, you decide you're just going t-to..." But Yang had already told her she didn't expect it to be her first kiss. That it had been unintentional. She wanted to scream, to flail her fists against the amazonian anchor of their team, but it wouldn't do any good; what was done was done.

"Fine. Then you'd better make it up to me."

"H-hey, it worked, didn't it? Like, it made your orgasm a lot stronger, right?" Although then Yang remembered that she had nothing to compare it to. She didn't know the difference. She could have gone as normal and NOT ruined Weiss's first kiss.

Weiss gave an exaggerating shrug. "How should I know? Am I the kiss-expert?! Do I have a degree in kissology?!" Then she seemed to deflate, even though she was still huffing and puffing like she had run a mile. "Why... why do you still look all... I don't know, tense? What's the matter?"

"Look, I feel bad I messed up your first kiss. And I'm sorry, alright? I guess my first kiss didn't mean a lot to me, so I thought everyone else was the same." There was no pun this time. No innuendo, no jokes. Yang was pouring her heart out to the girl before her, apologising truly from her heart. Something very out of character for the blonde.

But it didn't last long. "Told you the shower would only make you dirtier."

"You weren't wrong." This identity crisis wasn't going away any time soon. The longer Weiss stayed in the shower with her teammate, the more she was going to succumb to these odd new emotions, and she wasn't sure if she wanted it. However, she wasn't sure she could leave even if she tried; curiosity was holding her there, next to the person who at least MIGHT have some answers.

"Can we..." She knew it sounded stupid even before she asked. "Can I kiss you this time, and we pretend the other one didn't happen, and say this is my first kiss?"

Her brow raised. "Wait, you want your first kiss to be with me? The street thug who bought you the ‘hot stuff’ panties?"

"No!" Weiss snapped. "But I don't have any choice now, so... so if I can't have it with somebody else, at least I can have it on my terms, right?!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, calm down, Ice Queen!" She raised her arms defensively, slowly lowering them onto Weiss's shoulders. Keeping eye contact, she smiled. "Go ahead. Kiss me how you want."

"Fine!" Of course, the instant Weiss said this to her, she felt terrified of what she was about to do, but there was no backing down. Perhaps she didn't want it to be Yang Xiao Long in front of her at this moment in her personal history... but after the passionate embrace they had shared moments ago, she knew it could be a far worse candidate.

Her hands moved up to softly grip the taller woman's shoulders, drawing her down; Yang moved easily under her touch, ready to accommodate. Mouths drew closer, pulses raged.

"I... I'm gonna do it," Weiss whispered.

"Then do it already," the blonde egged on, gazing into her eyes whilst doing so.

For several long seconds, nothing happened. The small enclosure was simply filled with the sound of water droplets pounding against tile. Weiss shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her thumb rubbed over Yang's shoulder. She blinked several times. This wasn't getting them anywhere, or so Yang thought. Guilt continued to gnaw at her mind that because of her actions, Weiss had to force herself to this. How could she make it easier for her? So Weiss could have a decent first kiss?

She closed her eyes slowly, thinking the lack of purple irises staring at her would make it easier. Holding her breath, Weiss convinced herself to lean in. Just an inch. Then another inch. Then she dropped back an inch, shaking from head to toe, trying to swallow as she closed her own eyes.

"Oh, whatever."

Then Weiss's lips collided with Yang's again, slower and sweeter than last time. Taking every moment as it came with great relish. To her own great surprise, she channeled every last drop of desire and passion she had into the contact, practically singing into the contact.

It took a short while until eventually Yang returned such contact. Lips curling around hers slowly as she very slowly brushed her tongue against her lower lip, goading her into more. How could this woman have never kissed before? How could this be her first time? Though baffled, the rough, thuggish woman enjoyed every minute of grace that the Schnee heiress honoured her with. It was only fair for her to try and make her experience all the better.

This time, when Yang's tongue searched out Weiss's, she was not as forthcoming with returning the gesture. She did, in the end; just not as readily. It was on her terms, and she wanted that to continue to be the case.

But completely unbidden, her hand wandered up to Yang's cheek and caressed it. The skin was surprisingly soft, supple. Almost as much as Weiss's, and she doubted that the rough-and-tumble blonde moisturised as much as she herself did.

Or perhaps she did? What did she really know about Yang Xiao Long? Apparently, it was time for her to learn as much as possible. She was beginning to think she wanted that more than anything.

Of course, she responded to the heiress's gestures. But where could she touch? Could she touch her cheek? Or would she be overly sensitive about the scar? Sure, Yang had many scars all over her body, but none as visible as Weiss's. In fact, it was something she felt rather sorry for her having.

In the end, she wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her in closer as they continued their soft embrace. There was something gratifying about kissing someone so soft, compared to the tougher company in the past.

The longer they kissed, the more Weiss felt her heat beginning to grow again. That shocked her; could it be done more than once? How long did one have to wait before doing it again? She wanted to ask Yang these things, but it suddenly seemed inelegant to ask them during the moment. Therefore, instead she simply pulled back just enough to lean their foreheads together and whisper throatily to her newfound partner in experimentation.

"Do you... are you feeling like... doing more?"

"Why? Do you?" she asked through ragged breaths. Truth be told, she was still pent up from grinding against the woman's leg; she wanted to finish when Weiss did. But if her own heat was building yet again, it was all the better.

"See, I thought you might have been... from the w-way you were standing before, I just d-didn't want to assume." Her hands trailed down over Yang's chest, staring at them as if mortified at her own actions. "I think I might be, too, but… I mean, I'm still so new at this that I didn't know if it meant we SHOULD do more or if it was just some kind of lingering side effect!"

"Hey, if you've never gotten off before, you're gonna be horny as fuck, Princess. Best to let it all out now so you're not distracted from studying later..." She darted forward, kissing Weiss's unmarked cheek softly, only to then lean toward her ear, whispering, "Do you want me to make you scream again?"

"I... well, okay I guess, but you didn't seem to get much out of it last time." Shrugging, she took a half-step backward. "Give me your leg, then."

She looked at the heiress a moment, before taking her arms away from her. "How about something different?"

Weiss's eyes narrowed as she felt awkward, standing somewhat alone again. "Different is bad. I don't know if I like different."

"Well so far it's worked out well for you." She chuckled. "Don't suppose you're familiar with a 69?"

The stare that Weiss returned was fairly blank. "I... know of it as the number between 68 and 70?"

'Wow, this girl really was sheltered,' Yang thought. With a raised brow she explained, "It's also a position. Usually you use your mouth for it, but if that makes you uncomfortable, we can just use hands."

"Use your mouth for- wait, wait. Just... I'm so confused right now. How is a number a position? Is this in a book?" Then her mouth dropped open and she goggled at Yang. "Have you done the other 68 positions, too?! Just what degree of promiscuity do you have going for you?!"

Instantly, she slapped the palm of her hand against her face. "One, there are way more then 69 positions. Two, I have lost count of how many I have tried. Three, it's the shape of the numbers. Get it? Like one person is facing one way the other person is on top of them facing the other and you both sorta just lick-"

"Oh MY God!" Weiss blurted, covering her ears. "What am I hearing right now?! STOP!"

"I seriously can't believe it took you THAT much explanation!" The blonde erupted with laughter. Of course, it was hilarious to her, but the heiress may consider otherwise.

"Don't make... FUN of me!" Weiss punctuated her words by sliding her leg slightly inward and shoving Yang down by the shoulders.

The laughter was slowed down by Weiss's sudden movements as she barely caught herself from crashing h ard. Feeling herself getting pulled down by her brought on a wave of desire. "Someone's more eager than I thought. So what do you say? Like I said, we can just use hands. Whatever floats your boat."

It still stunned Weiss that she was now perched on top of her teammate on the floor of the shower, their naked bodies flush with one another, desire coursing through their veins. This was completely atypical. "I... I was just mad, but I g-guess we... how do we start, oh Knower of Sexual Things?"

"Well, you gotta get down here." From her knees, the girl slowly laid back, fully pressed against the soaking wet tiles as she stared up at the girl before her. "You gotta get on top of me."

Crawling hand-over-hand, Weiss was now lying atop Yang and staring into her eyes - and thereby clearly demonstrating she had misunderstood a lot of what Yang had explained. "Done. N-now, what are we doing with our hands?"

It took a lot to keep from slapping her own face again. Instead, she gently lifted the girl back up. "Other way around, Princess."

"You want on top of me? Or..." She tried to think back through what Yang had said. "H-hey, you said we didn't have to do licking!"

"And we're not going to, it's just the position! Do you wanna try this or not?"

"But I still don't..." Sighing, she sat up, not thinking about how she was literally sitting on Yang's hips. "Just tell me what to put where? You know I haven't done this before, I'm doing my best, okay?!"

"Alright, alright. I guess I should explain it clearer." The blonde swallowed. Feeling Weiss straddling her sent all the more heat to the union of her legs. Oh, how she wished she was able to thrust upward into her, but she lacked the equipment for that. Perhaps if the two experimented again, she could come prepared. "Okay, you want to be pushing your nose into my snatch, pretty much. You use your fingers, basically doing what you just did; I do the same on my end. So you're receiving as much as you're giving."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you..." The blush was not only pronounced, it was legendary. "Are you... going to put them in? I'm not sure if... if I can handle that yet, I've never..." Then she shook her head. "No, I'm sure you know what you're doing. You wouldn't dare push me beyond what I'm ready for, would you?"

"No way. That's why you're on top, so you can roll off if it gets to be too much." She couldn't help but shuffle beneath her. The tiles certainly weren't comfortable, but the woman above her was.

With a hesitant nod, Weiss climbed off Yang and stood over her for a moment, taking in a good eyeful of the beautiful woman laid out beneath her. It was odd how she was thinking at the moment; unnatural. Yang was voluptuous and desirable to most males she knew – but she was not a male. Why did gazing at her pronounced curves set her off?

Then she turned around and backed up until she was straddling Yang's middle, gazing down at wet knees as she lowered her own to the floor. Once there, she placed her hands on Yang's thighs and whispered, "Are you sure this is going to b-be okay? For both of us?"

She placed her hands on Weiss's thighs, attempting to reach forward. Though she realised with a reluctant sigh the heiress was too far away. She'd have to more or less lie down on the top of her to be level. "Well you're gonna have to back up a lil more, I can't reach you yet."

"I'm really supposed to... p-put my rear in your face? I didn't think we'd be getting THAT personal." However, she did as she was bidden, reversing until her center was hovering several inches above Yang's face, her calves sliding beneath arms. "B-better?"

"Yeah, that's it." Although she wanted to make a comment on the view, she suspected in their current situation the heiress wouldn't take it too kindly. Her hands slowly caressed the girl's thighs. Slowly reaching back up to her rear again in order to work her up further, she continued her instructions. "Just as you did before: slow rubbing to get me warmed up, then enter..."

"O-oh, right! Sorry!" Weiss felt embarrassed that she had nearly forgotten to return the favour being bestowed upon her. But when she leaned down between thighs, she realised something she wasn't expecting. Yang's organ was very pleasing to the eye. That shouldn't have been a thought that was even in her lexicon, but she truly appreciated the sight below her; soft folds and smooth skin. Her hand passed over it unbidden, just to take a more measured stock of the feeling than she had before when she was merely trying to get things done.

Likewise, Yang was also enjoying the sight of the heiress. As expected, completely perfect. Although she did say, "So hey… you can say no, but what if I tried using my tongue on you? Just to show you how a 69 is supposed to go for a second."

The little laugh Weiss let out held a marginal amount of her previous condescension. "Oh, I think I'll pass. That sounds quite unsanitary." Clearing her throat, she allowed her hips to sink a few inches lower. "Just, um... b-be gentle and go slow? This will still be the first time anyone's... well, you know."

"You got it, Princess."

And with that, soft fingers began to press against Weiss's wetness. Slowly at first, they began to move back and forth through the wet folds, attempting to stimulate the entire area. Resisting licking the folds instead of touching wasn’t easy, but she respected her teammate’s wishes. The young Schnee swayed visibly, heart shooting into her throat as she experienced pleasure unlike anything she had ever conceived. Now, she was extremely grateful that her first experience moments ago had been something easier and less overwhelming, because it made this so much more pleasurable.

"Hnnhh!" she breathed as she rocked her hips back against Yang's hand. "Oh, I... ohhHHHhhh!"

Her movements continued to tease her wet folds, cheeks blossoming with red at the sounds of Weiss's moans. How she wished she could see her face, watch as her expression went from that of her usual grumpy self to completely given over to this moment. She pushed her hand slightly more upward, her middle finger beginning to circle her clit.

"OH! Oh, fffffantastic!" Weiss whimpered as her own hand clutched more desperately at the folds beneath her. Sheer luck kept her from doing any damage to the sensitive organ with her well-manicured nails.

"Aah! C-careful!" She winced, toes curling up when feeling her firm nails contact the softer skin of herself. Once the heiress calmed down her movements again, she let out a small moan of her own. She was too stubborn to allow Weiss to undo her faster then she could undo the heiress herself.

A half-chagrined, half-elated laugh erupted from Weiss as she petted Yang's wetness with a more delicate hand. "My apologies, but this IS my first time..." She then watched the curling and uncurling toes for an idle moment. "Did you... kind of like that, though? It seemed to cause a pretty strong reaction, one way or another."

"Hey, I'm a kinky girl, but being scratched THERE isn't my thing." The emphasis was on the location, rather then the act; trying to make it clear that scratching wasn’t completely off the menu. Although another moan was let out again as she trailed her hand back downward, fingers firmly pressing up against the wet folds by her entrance, one single finger teasingly rubbing around it.

"Mmhhh," Weiss sighed as Yang began to stimulate her again, and she laid her hand flat and resumed her ministrations. After a moment, she brought the other one into play, only using it to hold her friend open so her first hand could reach more of her surface, tease between each fold.

As she gazed into the glistening textures, it dawned at her that this was the first time she had ever truly looked at a vagina. Even having one herself, she had always been told they were dirty places that were merely functional, and that the less time spent worrying about them, the better. Therefore, she felt forbidden heat of the taboo prickling along her spine as she examined it, prodding gently when she could but mostly just trying to touch all of it, to give Yang what she desired.

"Ah... Yeah..." Her breath could be felt against Weiss's hot sex, adding a new sensation of air brushing past her folds. But now came the tricky part. Feeling wetness coating her fingers, she brought her middle finger forward. Weiss was ready, she could feel it and sense it. Testing, she slowly pressed her middle finger against it, dipping the tip into her warm sex.

"MmmhhM? Oh-OH, whoa, what is- you're..." But Weiss did know what was happening, and any questions would be useless. Literally shaking at the sensation of something going inside of her for the first time, she twitched her thighs together - only to feel them being held apart by Yang's body between them. There was no way to shield herself just a tiny bit; it was either let this happen, or roll off entirely.

"Do you… want me to do that again? While you are?"

"That's the idea. Lemme know if this is okay, though."

She said between heavier breaths, bringing her other hand back to Weiss's sex as well. Whilst one stroked her wet folds and clit, the other slowly slid the finger even further inside, starting a gentle movement in and out to get her used to the sensation of friction.

A moan swelled and reverberated from Weiss's lungs as she began to roll her hips a little at a time to the sensation of Yang's finger inside of her. It was an entirely new and beautiful feeling, even if she was still partly scared of what it all might mean.

Belatedly, she began to ease one of her fingers between the folds in front of her, feeling more acutely what was transpiring than she had before. It was delicious. That was an odd word to be using, but it fit; there was a strange pleasantness to the feeling of moisture all around her fingertip, of watching it sink so gently into the welcoming flesh. How often did Yang do this?

"Oooohhh…"

The movements Weiss was making felt amazing. Despite the uncomfortable floor, the water still pouring over their bodies, it felt a lot better then the first time she tried. Her breath continued to pour forth heavily, toes curling with every sensation. Weiss felt every gust of air upon her most sensitive skin. Something about this had been bothering her slightly all along, and this more than anything else drove it home to her. Not knowing how else to phrase things, she merely swallowed and did her best.

"Are you... looking at me?"

"Uuuuhhh..." The blush rose to her own cheeks when that was asked, her movements freezing for a moment. "You bet. Why, do you want me to stop?"

"I don't care." That wasn't strictly true; she cared a great deal, but she was finding that she didn't mind. Shivering from head to toe, she allowed her thighs to drift a little farther apart. "Is it... don't make fun of me, but I want to know what you think. How does it look to s-somebody like you?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

“Not that you’re- I just meant… someone experienced.”

“It’s a pussy.” She didn't really know what else to say. Weiss was rather pleasant to look at, but she preferred to allow her hands to do the talking; especially as she pushed her finger a little further inside, pushing in and out a little faster.

"AH!" she gasped. "No, I... you've d-done this before, you must have looked at vaginas previously to mine, s-so how does mine compare with- NHH! Oh, God!"

Though Weiss did wish an answer to her question, the sensation was becoming too intense to ignore in favour of logical thought. In fact, she was already so close to collapsing on top of Yang's body with sheer weakness. How could performing such silly acts lead to this much enjoyment? How had no one told her before now?

"What can I say?" she said between breaths. “Your little pink curtains are pretty cute. I’m a fan.” Able to feel how close she was, her finger thrust faster into her, another working her clit in unison with her movements. On instinct, her own hips thrust against Weiss's hands, wanting more from her. She needed more.

With every thrust of her hips against Weiss's hand, she felt her finger sink deeper, saw the softness arching up toward her nose. When they had begun, she was holding herself so much higher than before, actively trying to put space between her face and the filthy organ below. Now?

Why had she stopped paying so much attention to the distance? Too much pleasure; that was the reason. Yang was caressing her every inner wall, coaxing more heat and more joy with every movement. It was intoxicating… as was the heady scent wafting up toward her from where her finger was. It mingled with soap and sweat that had not been rinsed away before, but very minimally; she knew now that almost everything filling her olfactories was arousal. The smell was something she was certain would normally sicken her.

Why did she like it in the moment? Why was it making her mouth water, her heart beat faster, her lungs rattle?

It was getting more difficult by the minute to resist Weiss, to resist leaning right up and taking her with her tongue. She probably would have, had she been with someone less reserved. But the last thing she wanted to do was frighten the heiress, not when she was in the middle of treating her like a queen. Her moans began to grow more intense, already pressure was beginning to build in her stomach.

"G-god! Weiss!"

"Yang!" Swallowing, she cleared her throat and leaned closer as she pressed her finger further and further inside. "What... what was it you said people normally do... in this position? Lick things? Is that really something… people d-do?"

"W-whatever, just don't stop!" she begged.

"Dust forgive me," Weiss breathed quietly before she allowed her tongue to dip down and press very slightly against the soft hood at the top.

"W-WHOA!" Her eyes snapped open in surprise, overwhelming pleasure beginning to seep over her at the sudden contact of her warm wet muscle. The pressure began to build even faster and instinct took over. Her tongue surged forward toward the wet folds before her, taking long licks from side to side.

A strangled "HNAH!" burst from within Weiss when she felt the same treatment being directed upon her own body, and much less hesitantly. Had Yang been waiting for her to try it first so she could respond in kind? Was it so much better?

It was. Tasting the strong and salty flavour of the taller girl below her somehow heightened every last drop of pleasure, while the source of the scent being that much closer was driving her wild. Nevermind how having such a wet and fluid thing drifting back and forth across her own opening made her feel! Another orgasm was building already, and she could not have been more pleased to know that's what it was.

Wasting no more time, Weiss wrapped her lips around the hood and its tiny occupant, suckling gently as she began to thrust her finger in and out, hoping to reach everywhere and give Yang as much pleasure as she was getting, to bring them both off in one glorious moment. There could be no better fate.

"MMMYAAAAHHH!!" She moaned loudly against her teammate, back unable to help but arch her back in pleasure. In turn, this pushed her firmer against Weiss, allowing her to press her tongue right against her clit. Finally she began to push her finger in further, curling it in the hopes of hitting another sensitive spot.

She succeeded.

"MMNHHHH!!!" Weiss cried out against Yang's folds, tongue swirling and dipping further down in to meet her own finger before she set her lips to suckling on the erect nub again. That had seemed to satisfy Yang the most, and it was the least she could do to return the joy she was experiencing throughout her entire body in that moment.

The pressure became too much, as finally Yang's legs began to shake uncontrollably. White hot flames seemed to flow through her veins, pleasure searing through her very bones as she reached her climax. But she was determined to take the heiress with her. Through one more effort, she withdrew her finger, only to then add another when pushing back in again, curling yet again to hit the sensitive spot within her. She continued to devour her clit and folds in turn, trying to tease every bit of pleasure out of her she possibly could.

A scream ripped through her body and into Yang's as she felt herself being penetrated with two fingers. Hard. Between that and the tongue torturing every other part of her sensitive flower, her second orgasm in the same shower stall crashed over her, and she felt her own toes curling, back arching, stomach muscles clenching and releasing over and over as she held her hand deep inside the body beneath her.

That was that. Weiss Schnee was no longer a virgin; she had her very first sexual encounter and it was with another woman. No one could have told her this was how it would be and been able to convince her they were telling the truth, but she found it no longer bothered her overly. The extreme levels of joy rocketing through her system made it difficult to care.

The blonde's head fell back against the wet tiles, allowing her to finally breathe. As she waited for the pleasure to cease pulsing through her, she gently pulled her fingers free from her lover's sex. A pronounced whiplash could be seen as Weiss was exited, and she tried not to sob at the feeling of having nothing inside of her anymore.

"Well?" she managed to groan out, still light-headed.

"Wh... at the end there, you d-did something differently. Was that more than one finger?"

Managing to lean to one side, she held the two fingers in the hair, both coated in her bodily fluids. "One didn’t seem to be doing it for you."

"Oh, it was doing it for me," she laughed uneasily. "But th-thank you for your consideration." Carefully, she began to slide the finger out of Yang, as well, trying to be slow and gentle about it.

"H-hah..." She couldn't help but gasp when feeling the finger removed, a sudden wave of emptiness sweeping across her. Although when seeing how close the heiress to her, it was all forgotten. She and Weiss had sex. On the list of things she expected to be doing, that was not on the list. Especially not after she found out the girl had never done it with anyone before.

"Congrats, Ice Queen. You just lost your V-card!"

For a brief second, Weiss attempted to stand. That proved impossible, so she flopped back down on top of Yang, rubbing her face idly against her thigh. "Wh-what card?"

"Mrrmimermy?" The voice was muffled by her thigh. She brought her hand back up, helping push the heiress upwards. "Virginity?"

"Oh." She swallowed, turning to help Yang up as well - unsteady on her own feet though she was. Her free hand braced against the wall of the shower for good measure. "I... was thinking about that, and I suppose you're right. Should I be... what, worried? Excited? Embarrassed? I've never been in the position to lose it before so I literally have no frame of reference."

Once standing, the woman immediately got back to her routine. It was almost as if it had never happened. Sure, her breathing was still heavy, but anyone could mistake it for someone who had just had a heavy workout if they were to see her scrubbing herself with the bar of soap.

"Eh, it's not really a big deal to be honest. You don't feel any different – at least, I never did. We just had some fun, right?"

Weiss took that in as she also set about washing herself again, following Yang's lead. "I do feel different, though. Not drastically, but it's as if... my body has been awakened in a way it never has before. Also, you and I have this new… bond, I suppose." The soap squirted out of her hands and bounced off the wall before skidding to a halt in the middle of the drain. "Does this make us lovers?! Are we t-together now?!"

“Whoa, settle down there, eager beaver,” Yang laughed, staring at the bar of soap on the floor. She managed to resist making a crude joke that probably would have pissed off the sensitive girl. In fact, she bent down to retrieve the soap for her, passing it over with a smile. "That's up to you if you think you can handle a dragon. But yeah, I’m not opposed."

Why did Weiss find her eyes being drawn to Yang's form as she bent to pick up the errant bar of soap? Shaking her head out, she took it and went back to her washing. "Handle it? Please. I just... well, would you want that? You seem to be alright with a sort of 'passive' arrangement."

Of course, the woman went straight back to scrubbing her own skin again, eyes remaining on the icy blue ones staring back at her. Somehow, they worked. It shouldn't; they were entire opposites. In personality, appearance, even semblance! Yet they clicked. Yang could fire Weiss up into having fun, and likewise Weiss could cool her thuggish self down. Even in sex, the two seemed to pair quite well if this first time was any indicator of their potential future.

"Look, I've done the 'passive arrangement' as you called it before, and if you wanted to do that, I'd be totally down. But… if you meant it as in you and I being a couple? Well… I guess… that might not be so bad, either."

"I see." Slowly, Weiss's cheeks began to glow red again. "You mean that, don't you? That we would d-date and kiss and all those things. Do more of wh-what we just did, but also hold hands while we go shopping, and try on makeup and clothes together, and cuddle at night?"

The very words caused her movements to slow right down. There wasn't a sarcastic comment this time, or an instant denial of her suggestion. It was sincere, or so she assumed. Not only that, but it was an offer Yang hadn't had before. The majority of her relationships only lasted the length of a single night together. This was the chance for something more, something meaningful.

Not that she would admit how much it meant to her so easily. "So, there's a warm heart in there after all, huh, Ice Queen?"

At that, Weiss smiled smugly and turned away, rinsing off her torso. "Hah! Dream on, Hot Stuff. You'll have to work a lot harder to wrap this Queen around your little finger like that." As she leaned against the wall to scrub her right calf and foot, she glanced at Yang out of the corner of her eye. "Though we might begin those 'arrangements' henceforth. If you're as open to it as you claim to be."

Although a little disappointed Weiss hadn’t accepted the offer for something more, she couldn't blame her; this was brand new. Maybe they should take it slow and see where things led.

Her teasing attitude returned as she went to leave the shower. Running a finger gently across her shoulder blades, she leaned over to whisper into her ear, "I'm looking forward to it, Princess."

With that, she finally exited the stall, leaving the flustered heiress to finish her shower alone.

The end of the Ice Queen's rather eventful day was nearing. For Yang, it had already ended, if the rather loud snoring coming from her bunk was any indication. Weiss shook her head as she got ready for bed. It wouldn't be too long until their other teammates would return to the dorm room; even Blake wouldn't be able to stay in the library ALL day.

The door swung open, their leader stomping back into their room after a sparring session with Jaune. At first, she wanted to question her sister's loud snoring, but something else caught her eye.

"Hot stuff?!"

At the sound of her bunkmate's shrill cry, Weiss whipped around, pulling her nightgown hastily over the rest of her body. "Ruby Rose! D-don't you know how to knock?! What is wrong with you?"

Ruby kicked the door shut behind her. "Oh come on, you don't have anything I haven't seen before! Well, besides the ‘Hot Stuff’ undies!" As usual, her annoyingly inquisitive nature began to show, as she stared back at the underwear. "I didn't think you were the type wear something that, y’know, flirty!"

"I'm not," Weiss grumbled, finishing covering herself with the nightgown and holding her hands in front of her pelvic area to further reinforce the message that the show was over. "It's... these are special, alright? Besides, why does it matter?"

"Special… undies?" She tilted her head. "Ooookay, if you say so. And it doesn't matter, I'm just curious."

"They were a gift! Who died and made you the panty police?!" Sighing irritably, she turned and began to crawl into her bed. "Can't even wear whatever I like anymore..."

The girl raised her arms defensively, heading to her own drawers to fetch her pyjamas and letting the subject go. Although, once she had gotten changed fully and was about to get into her own bed, that was when the penny dropped. Who gets underwear for a friend?

"Wait, undies for a gift? From a special friend, maybe? Like a partner?"

Rolling over just enough so she could be heard clearly, Weiss growled, "Did you give them to me, partner?"

"No! Why would I call you 'hot stuff'? I meant a special boyfriend kind of partner!"

"You asked if there was a partner, and my only partner is you, and if you did not give me the underpants, then no, I was not given them by a partner. Now GO. TO. SLEEP."

"Aww come on, you can tell me. Is he cute?"

It took all of Weiss's willpower to avoid glancing over at Yang in the neighbouring bunk beds, peacefully snoring away. Instead, she merely picked up her pillow and smooshed it over her head, trying to blot out the sound of the bunkmate now hanging over the side of her top bunk and staring at her upside-down.

"Whaaaat? You can tell me, I really wanna know!" she chuckled, managing to sway back and forth whilst looking, before finally gasping. "Is it Neptune?”

"You're Neptune," Weiss grumbled, knowing full well how juvenile she sounded. Seized by inspiration, she rolled over and shouted, "YANG!"

Of course, her sleeping teammate's eyes snapped open to try and find where the noise came from. Though of course Ruby then looked over to her from her awkward position, grinning innocently.

"Hey Yang, Weiss has a boyfriend!"

"Yang, can't you keep your sister under control?!" Weiss was complaining. "I am trying to sleep and she is being simply intolerable!"

"Pleeeeaaaase?" Ruby begged, swaying back and forth again.

Her sister was unable to help but chuckle, rubbing her eyes. "I swear you should have been a bat Faunus, Rubes. But she has a point; it is getting late. Besides, Ice Queen's got to have SOME mystery about her."

"Yes, thank you," Weiss said, rolling away… only to immediately roll back toward Yang to say, "And do NOT call me 'Ice Queen'!"

"So what would you like instead? Snow-Senpai? Cutie-Patootie?"

Although this was obviously flirting, it was the type that would go straight over her sister's head. After all, Yang gave people silly nicknames all the time, and was flirty with everyone. It would make sense for Ruby to take it in a friendly manner. It was a success in getting her little sister to return to her own bed, tucking herself down into her own sheets.

"Next time we spar, I want to know, though," Ruby grumbled, facing the wall away from her sister.

"We'll see," Weiss sighed, glaring steadily at Yang. It was the response that would get Ruby to quiet down the fastest. After that, of course, she winked at the blonde. "Goodnight."

Thankfully, that was what the blonde wanted. It at least allowed her to wink back at Weiss as she snuggled in to sleep. "Goodnight, Hot Stuff."

The near-darkness of the room hid Weiss's blush so well that not even Blake's night vision could sense it when she crept in fifteen minutes later. The heiress was eternally grateful for that, even if she found it almost impossible to sleep.

                                                              THE END

[floating-catastrophe]

okay so admittedly im circling the drain to the Daddywise fandom; im coming to ok terms with myself for this, but my friends would tear me down so fast 😩 anyway: has anyone come up with a "pennyman interacting with [reader] via the shower drain" scenario? interpret as you see fit, i gotta find more clownfolk to follow ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

((I have not seen this yet, I shall try my best good fellow!

I assumed you wanted smut? So, a warning, mention of blood and sorta non-con themes)). 

With the water running down from above you, you combed your fingers through your hair as to spread the water through it. You came back with a significant amount of stray hair wrapped around your fingers and sticking to your wrist. It wasn’t unusual for you to shed so much hair in the shower, you disregarded it as you let the water filter it all down the shower drain. You continued combing your hair, more and more hair disassociating itself from your scalp and exiting down the drain. 

Quite suddenly, you heard a violent hacking sound, like someone was choking on something. But it didn’t sound as you thought a human would, it was more like the sound of a cat hacking on a hairball. You tried to centre where exactly the sound was coming from, but it was slightly muffled from the running water. You turned the knob to shut the water off and stood still, listening. After a few moments, you determined the sound was coming from… below you?

Just as you had that thought, you saw, much to your surprise, a single gloved finger poking through the shower drain. You jumped back in surprise, your heels nearly slipping on the soapy surface of the tub. You watched in horror as the finger became two, then three, then an entire hand, the drain seemed to be expanding with each passing finger, you blinked but still couldn’t be sure what you were seeing was actually real. All the while, the hacking sound continued. 

Finally, an entire arm surfaced, ruffled sleeves looking worn and dirty and dripping wet. And you thought you could see long, sharp black claws ripping fourth from the gloves, but before you could ponder it they were gone and it was just a normal looking hand. But a hand coming out of your shower drain was no less frightening anyway. 

The drain was expanding even more now, and now there was a head emerging, the head kept emerging until finally there were eyes. Glowing, amber eyes. Almost as soon as you saw them, they had changed hue and were now a brilliant blue, as if you hadn’t seen the hungry amber eyes in the first place. The head had dark hair plastered to it’s forehead, it was glaring at you, it’s eyes narrowed. 

“What’s wrong with you?” And then it was speaking, it’s entire face emerged and it looked like an unsettling clown, a clown that was coughing and hacking. It’s voice was like that of a child, but it was too low to be a child’s voice and it-he was obviously not a child. But it was so unbelievably childlike and it was unsettling. 

You didn’t say anything in reply. You watched as only his face emerged from the drain, the rest of his body staying submerged. He continued hacking and, finally he opened his mouth and choked out a hair ball. A literal hair ball, a gross, slobbery ball of human hair. That came from his mouth.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to go dropping your shit wherever you feel like? Some people actually live here, you know.” He said, pointing downward, to the sewer drain. 

He was… scolding you? This was quite absurd to you, however your natural apologetic instincts kicked in before you could think about it much. “Er… sorry?” 

He just stared at you for a minute, and while he looked you up and down, you finally seemed to remember that you were butt naked. There was a clown who had emerged from your fucking shower drain, and was now staring at you as you stood there naked. You made a valiant and rather pathetic display of attempting to cover yourself up with your hands. This made him laugh as he watched you. A childish, cackling laugh. You felt the blush all over your body. 

“I’ve come at a good time.” He teased, and ceased his laughing entirely as he stared at you, a soft growl emitting from his slightly parted lips. This sent alarm bells ringing in your head. You decided it was in your best interest to get out of the tub. You lifted a leg to climb out when suddenly, something snatched your other leg and pulled, sending you tumbling down onto your back, smacking your head on the bathtub floor. 

And before you could get up, you hazily watched as rope flew out of the drain and wrapped around your wrists and ankles, binding them together so you couldn’t move. Your head felt fuzzy, but as you stared harder, you realized it wasn’t rope that was binding you. It was hair. Human hair, and it was most definitely your own. 

You couldn’t see the head of the clown anymore, and the drain had gone done to it’s own size, for the most part. You couldn’t quite recall exactly what size it had been before. You had to lift your head painfully to even see the drain, your head was on the other side of the tub, your front positioned right in front of the drain. You felt more than you saw his hand coming back up and softly scratching a claw down your thigh. 

He was laughing, it was evil and unnerving, you struggled against your bindings, it was just hair after all, but it was strong and you couldn’t escape. You began to hardcore panic as you felt his claws approaching where you most certainly did not want an evil clown’s claws to go. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

“Ohohoho~” You heard his suggestive laugh. You blushed from your face downward. You knew you must have seemed eager despite yourself, and that he knew it too. 

And then his hand was wrapped around the entirety of your thigh, that was just how big his hands were. He squeezed and dug his claws into your soft skin, you winced in response but found your hips raising anyway. His hand reverted itself to clutch your hip and he pushed you back down again forcefully. You felt the bathtub flush against your back, the surface wet despite the water not running anymore. Your body was quite easily sliding further towards the drain even if you attempted to shift backwards away from it. Your hair bindings didn’t help you to get further away either. 

And then his hand was trailing the inside of your thigh once more, once, twice, dragging his claws up and down as he went, so slowly it was painful, more painful than sharp claws tearing your skin already was. You squirmed, the squeaking sound of your skin against wet surface loud and uninvited. 

He wasn’t speaking, just chuckling lowly, you could hear it echoing through the shower drain in an unsettling sort of way. He occasionally gave a soft grunt and a low growl, but it was faint and you tried not to think about it too much. You had other things to concern yourself with, anyhow, like how his claws where trailing to your inner thigh and getting closer and closer. 

And then there he was, without warning. You gasped loudly as you felt at least two of his claws enter you at once. He didn’t hesitate to begin prodding inside of you, poking you with his sharp claws and scratching at your inner walls. You couldn’t even think about adjusting before he was adding another. You nearly screamed, but another thick strand of hair had come from the drain and wrapped itself around your neck, choking you so you were unable to force anything from your windpipe.

“Heh. I was under the impression you could take it.” He said mockingly. You couldn’t see his voice, but you felt guilty somehow that he was disappointed, which no sense for you to care in retrospect. 

He stuck another claw in, they were long joints but still his palm was hitting your skin as he stuck the entirety of them inside. You could feel his claws puncturing you, feel the blood trickling from inside you and down between your legs just under you. It was stinging and aching, but your back was arching anyway, despite that when you did so your restraints just choked you harder. 

He forcefully thrust his knuckles into you suddenly, your scream chocked in your throat as you desperately tried to close your knees together, but the bindings prevented you from doing so. You could only manage a low and pathetic groan as you struggled to breath, panting and pulsating with the need to be touched less harshly, if only your hand was free to do so. 

Your body was tingly and numb, you could feel his fingers curl as he thrust them back and fourth at full speed in the harshest manner there could ever be with the biggest hards that could have ever possibly existed. At this point, if you lifted your head the slightest bit, you could see the river of red rushing from you towards the drain and downward. You hoped the clown was having fun with all the blood he was spilling from you. Maybe that was the point. 

You could hear his soft grunts of effort every time he thrust his fingers in motion, perhaps his wrist was getting tired. Despite the aching pain and the stabbing that was shredding away at your insides, you couldn’t help but arch your back from the sound of his fingers contacting with the fluids he created every time his fingers exited and went in again. 

Your legs were shaking, barely able to breath but when you could it was just gasps. You felt like you might come close, you were edging on the feeling when suddenly he pulled away and out, as if he could sense your feelings. What was left of his white glove was coated dark red with your blood, a stringy blood clot was stretched between two of his fingers. 

And then his hand was gone, and you heard the sound of his maniacal laughter abruptly fade, the hair binding you following suit down the drain behind him, and you were too tired to hold you legs up so you collapsed, coughing and gasping in breaths of air. 

After awhile of laying there, you looked to see if you had stopped bleeding. You hadn’t, but the trail was thinner than before. You blinked and thought about what exactly had just happened and that yes, you had just been rightfully fingerfucked by some sort of sewer clown. 

And it hadn’t been all that bad either.