#and maybe not everyone can *afford* to buy a mask

[agentstovring]

Need

Title: Need

Pairing: Ian/Anthony (Smosh)

Rating: E for Explicit

Notes: Thank you Snel for always supporting my small but all-consuming bursts of creative energy

You can also find this on Ao3

When Anthony leaves, it happens in increments. Ian sees it coming like a runaway train, but he doesn’t dodge it; he lays down on the tracks, twirls his own mustache, and closes his eyes, waiting for collision. When Anthony finally says it out loud, Ian has already been processing for months.

They’ve known each other for so long, and even though they stopped being friends somewhere along the way, he could have lost all his senses and still felt the shift in the universe when Anthony decided not to suffer quietly any longer.

When Anthony musters up the courage to tell him, Ian puts on a surprised face; Anthony sees right through it, as former best friends do.

The rest of the company is informed as well, and their reactions run the gamut. The cast and crew are devastated, while Defy reps are concerned about optics. Anthony pretends to be optimistic about the future, and Ian pretends to be a stone.

The last weeks of working together reach levels of torture previously outlawed by the Geneva Convention. They get through it because they don’t have a choice; Defy has their finances so deep in the shitter, that neither Anthony nor Ian can afford to break their contracts, so production must go on. Everyone suffers, and everyone keeps showing up to work.

On Anthony’s last day, he buys everyone lunch and puts on a happy mask that just won’t stick. When he leaves, he hugs Ian; not for show, but out of some deeply buried habit. Without knowing it, they simultaneously come to the same realization: They haven’t touched off camera in over a year.

Ian

Let it be known that Ian Andrew Hecox knows how to suffer. He has mastered the subtle art of wallowing. He agonizes with the best of them. In the wake of Anthony’s departure, he reaches new lows in terms of sleep quality, nutrition, work-life balance, and personal hygiene.

The loss of Anthony consistently takes up so much space within him that any other problems or worries arising have nowhere to sit. When Defy shuts down less than two years later, brutalizing his life’s work in the process, Ian barely flinches.

Anthony finds his footing. After an awkward fledging stage, he discovers a format that plays to his strengths, and an audience grows around it, aware of his Smosh past but largely unconcerned with it. Ian watches him evolve and blossom out of his periphery while fighting for his own life. The conviction comes unbidden: “He doesn’t need me anymore.” And the thought fills him with dread.

Anthony

The Defy shutdown is a bittersweet affair; Anthony watches it from the outside, craving a bucket of popcorn, unable to fight off the satisfaction that his personal evil has been defeated. Unfortunately, it comes at the expense of Smosh; and though he barely recognizes it as the labor of love he built with Ian, the anguish is real.

For a while, the Defy garbage fire is the talk of the digital town, and Anthony hears rumors about the chaotic party that happened in the aftermath. People sneaking out props that rightfully belong to Smosh (vital); cameras being stolen (arguably necessary); furniture being destroyed (questionable); and computers being peed on (a choice).

When Smosh is left without a parent company, it could be the end of the channel, and he shamefully wonders if Ian will reach out. If it’s truly over, even though Anthony dipped out early, maybe Ian would want to lay it to rest together. Somehow, though, Anthony doesn’t feel convinced that this is the end. He may not believe in Smosh anymore, but he believes in Ian.

He watches with a sort of awe as Ian not only secures a new company, Mythical; but starts to rebuild Smosh to it’s former – maybe even greater – glory. New cast members; a bigger crew; content that sometimes flops but feels like it once again comes from a place of passion rather than greed.

Anthony watches every video that Ian appears in, and the truth settles in him. “He doesn’t need me anymore.” And the thought fills him with relief.

Ian

After Rhett and Link pull Smosh from the grave, Ian never allows himself to fully relax. Between Anthony’s departure and Defy’s incompetence-slash-betrayal, every small inconvenience feels like another punch to the face. He takes the punches, absorbs them; after a while, he almost relies on them. He feels like a shark, needing to keep moving in order to stay alive.

The ghost of Anthony haunts him on and off the clock. In meetings, he glances at empty chairs, imagining his former best friend sitting there, holding back a laugh as Ian makes jerkoff motions when someone mentions the algorithm.

When he gets stuck creatively, which seems to happen more and more, he misses their chaotic brainstorming sessions, fueled by caffein and takeout, talking and laughing into the light morning hours. When a video does well, he wonders if Anthony sees it pop up on YouTube; he wonders if Anthony ever watches the stuff they do.

The continuous “ Where’s Anthony”-jokes hurt him, but he decides that it would hurt more if they stopped. At least the jokes mean that Anthony’s spirit still lives at Smosh; everyone who works there, even people who started after he left and have never worked alongside him, still know and reference him.

Anthony

Anthony only properly starts to heal once he decides that Ian no longer needs him. He walks into therapy with a renewed sense of purpose, sits down in the plush chair and tells his therapist that he wants to talk about Ian. The therapist is stunned, because she's been trying to get him to talk about Ian for the past several years. They've talked about Smosh at length, but he's only mentioned Ian in passing and never separately from Smosh.

Now, he lets it all out. He starts from the beginning, fondly remembering their budding friendship; he talks about building Smosh the Website and turning it into a shared thing between them, knowing the risks of mixing business and friendship. He cries quietly, his therapist never once rushing him, as he processes and mourns the loss of their bond. He smiles ruefully as he allows himself to be sentimental for a moment; blushes as he lets himself be proud of their shared body of work.

When his therapist hints at the possibility of a future for him and Ian, a new business venture or a friendship independent of Smosh, he shrinks slightly in his seat. "I told you; he doesn't need me anymore."

His therapist shrugs. "Need isn't the only thing that brings people together, Anthony."

Ian

Women are terrifying. Ian has known this for a long time, but it can still surprise him just how effortlessly calculating they can be. Dianna called him three days ago and invited him out to try a new restaurant; when he'd asked who else would be there - just to be a dick, honestly - she'd casually said, "A few friends," not committing to any names before pressing him for an answer.

He'd said yes, because he likes Dianna, and he likes most of her friends, and he really likes Ethiopian food. Though now, less than an hour before he was supposed to be at the restaurant, he’s rethinking liking Dianna.

She'd called under the guise of giving parking instructions, and then, as he’s half-listening and buttoning up a patterned shirt, she slips in, "Oh, and Anthony's coming."

He freezes with his fingers on the top button. After a beat of silence, he picks his phone off the bed, hoping Dianna will sense his glare through the call.

"What the fuck," he says flatly. "Anthony's coming, you're telling me that now?"

"Maybe I just found out."

"Oh, you just found out that you invited him? Really snuck that past yourself 'til now, huh?"

"I'm sorry, sheesh, I'll call him and tell him not to come."

"Obviously don't do that, Dianna!" He sighs, trying to calm down. "It's fine, I was just surprised; I'm sorry for yelling."

Dianna hums noncommittally, but when she speaks again, she sounds nervous. "Are you still coming? Please still come."

"Of course I'm still coming," he says, looking himself up and down in the mirror. "It'll be nice to see him again."

"Awesome! He's single, by the way."

"Bye, Dianna, see you there!"

Anthony When Dianna texts and asks him to come to dinner, Anthony accepts without hesitation. He loves Ethiopian food, which tends to have a lot of vegan options, and Dianna always has the inside scoop on up-and-coming restaurants. There is an added bonus, too; Dianna is really more Ian's friend than his, and he suspects he's been invited because Ian is gonna be there.

In the hours leading up to the dinner, he is nauseous with anxiety, but as soon as he steps into the restaurant and spots the rest of the party at their table, a strange calm falls over him. Of course, when he spots Ian - who in turn spots him - a flutter of butterflies swirls in his stomach, and he can’t hold back a smile. Ian returns it.

For a second it feels like the surroundings blur and all he can see is Ian. He holds eye contact all the way to the table, only breaking it to greet everyone else and take his seat. He suspects it’s no coincidence that the only empty chair is right across the table from Ian.

"Hi," he says breathlessly, trying to seem casual while fighting for his life.

"Hi," Ian responds. "Good to see you."

"You too."

For all that Anthony wants to catch up with Ian, he’s very aware of the other people at the table; most of whom seem unaware of Dianna’s obvious scheme and therefore do their best to include him and Ian in their conversation. He can’t be too upset about it; it’s less nerve-wracking than speaking to Ian directly; he can’t say everything he wants to with an audience anyway.

Besides, Ian is clearly in a good mood; someone at the table has complained about the number of ads she gets for ad-free mobile games, and questions how they’re making money. This has sent Ian off on an immediate rant.

"It's all data mining," he says for the third time in just as many minutes, a little too loud for a public place. "It's not just shady, it's straight up predatory; they collect everything they can get their hands on and sell it to the highest bidder. This is why we need better legislation-"

If Anthony could see himself from the outside, he’s pretty sure he'd have literal hearts in his eyes.

Ian & Anthony

Eventually dinner wraps up, and the group finds themselves outside, saying goodbye as they head for their respective cars and Ubers. Ian and Anthony hang back, soon finding themselves alone in the parking lot. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The evening air blows an empty plastic bag past them, like the inner-city version of a tumbleweed, and they both sputter with laughter.

As they collect themselves, Ian clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, man.”

Ian fears that the conversation is over; that he has to drive home with no closure whatsoever; but then Anthony’s eyes sparkle with that familiar warmth, and he says, “Do you maybe wanna come over to my place? Not now, I mean, but.. tomorrow?"

Delight and nervousness battle it out in Ian’s stomach; he thankfully catches himself before it shows on his face, managing a casual expression. “Sure, uh, text me when you're done doing, like, sunrise yoga or whatever."

Instead of dignifying the jab with a response, Anthony pulls Ian in for a warm hug, relishing how he tenses up for only a second before relaxing into the embrace.

"I'll text you as soon as the shaman leaves," Anthony quips. Pulling away, he puts his hands in his pockets, walking backwards towards his car. "I'd invite you over to talk tonight, but I had wine with dinner; might do something impulsive."

Ian scoffs and shakes his head, but there’s no missing the blush rising in his cheeks. 

"Sure," he says about 20 seconds too late, giving Anthony a small wave as he also starts to leave. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Anthony echoes with a smile, and it feels as if no time has passed.

The next day, Ian ends up at Anthony's place just in time for a late breakfast. The number of dishes littering the dining table tells Ian that Anthony has been stress-cooking, and he can’t help the warm feeling in his chest; clearly, this is important to both of them. He’s also touched to find that Anthony has remembered to get gluten-free bread for him; and as he tucks into a surprisingly flavorful tofu scramble, he’s overwhelmed with affection for his former best friend. 

Here they are, the two of them, sharing a meal in Anthony's home as they have done a thousand times before in what felt like another lifetime. Conversation comes easy but stays light. The most recent earthquake in L.A.; the mayoral election; family members they know; friends they share. Smalltalk that should feel shallow but holds so many years of intimate knowledge of one another.

They finish eating but keep talking as they clear the table and load the dishwasher, tiptoeing towards the reason they’re there. Anthony asks about Smosh the way any friend of Ian's would, as if it hasn’t been the source of so much hurt; and Ian answers as if it’s just a place where he works, and not a house haunted by Anthony's absence. 

Once there’s nothing left to clean and tidy, they go to the living room; Ian takes a seat on the couch while Anthony drops into the nearest chair. There’s a beat of silence. For the millionth time, Anthony thinks about the fight that never happened; he left Smosh without the screaming argument he half-expected. Ian just let him go.

He’s often wondered if a loud fight would have given him closure. Still, he hopes they’re not about to have that fight now. He couldn’t bear it. Sitting in his sunlit living room with Ian is the happiest he’s felt in years. As much as he wants this to be a new beginning, wants to keep the peace, there’s something he needs to say.

“I think a part of me wanted you to come after me, a big part even. In the beginning, when I was so angry at you, I wanted you to come knocking just so I could reject you. I know that’s awful, but it’s the truth.”

“I can’t say I don’t get it.”

“It took me a long time to stop being angry, and then I was just sad; I started wanting you to reach out, so I had an excuse to come back.”

“You wouldn’t have come back,” Ian says, shell-shocked and in denial.

“I would have.”

“Being under Defy nearly killed you!”

“Yeah, and coming back would have been stupid, but I would have. I was so scared of starting over without you; I would have come crawling back just to not risk failing. But you never came after me; and when Defy went down, you still didn’t.” Anthony cracks a smile. “You kept fighting. When Mythical bought Smosh, you still kept fighting. You brought our dream back to life with a team of amazing people around you. It hurt that you didn’t need me anymore, but I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s not true; I never stopped needing you.”

“Then why didn’t you come after me? Out of pride?”

“Usually pride would be a safe bet, but not this time. I wanted to chase you down the day you left. I lay in bed that night imagining myself driving over to your place, begging you to come back; but I knew you wouldn’t. And even though I didn’t wanna admit it to myself, I knew you were right to leave. After you left, I don’t know if you saw much of the content-“

“I did,” Anthony says, grimacing.

“Fuck. I was really hoping you didn’t; I was gonna make it sound not so bad, but.. Yeah, it got really bad; and when the shutdown happened, I almost lost hope. Without Smosh, I had nothing to offer you. So, I went looking for a new parent company, and- Look, you know I love Rhett and Link, but I chose Mythical solely because they were the ones willing to give us the most creative control.”

“It was the right choice.”

Ian smiles slightly. “I think so. They’re good Southern boys, and I trust them. Even though some people might say, don’t mix business and friendship- Uh, I guess we’d know about that; and Rhett and Link are childhood best friends anyway-“

“Ian,” Anthony says, stopping Ian’s rambling instantly.

“Mmyes?”

“What do you mean by ‘Without Smosh, I had nothing  to offer you’?”

Ian adjusts his glasses, swallows once, and adjusts his glasses again before saying, “I didn’t wanna live the rest of my life not talking to you. Smosh was wrecked, but I thought, if I fixed it, there was a chance that I could have you back.”

“You worked your ass off to find a new parent company; and hired good people; and created better content; just to get me back? Not because you wanted to see Smosh back on its feet?”

“Come on, man, you think I have integrity like that?”

“I know you do,” Anthony says, and he can’t hold back a smile. “I’m honored, though.”

“You should be! It was stressful, and now I can’t have gluten anymore.”

“You think the gluten intolerance is because of stress? Not your aging body?”

Ian looks away, pouting, “We can’t all look like a piece of paper someone used to test their markers.”

“That’s sloppy, try again.”

“You look like a Halloween costume called Sexy Rorschach Test.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Anthony teases, looking at Ian with a mockery of a smolder.

Ian’s upper lip curls in annoyance. “You know you look good..”

“You look good too.”

Ian scoffs. “When we left dinner the other night, I looked like a Republican senator who’d just picked up a sex worker.”

Anthony bursts out laughing and falls back into the chair, his feet coming off the ground as his knees pull towards his chest. Ian watches him, trying to keep a straight face even as his shoulders shake slightly with held-in laughter. When Anthony gets a hold of himself, wiping a few tears off his face, the look he gives Ian is impossibly fond.

"You know I'd never make you pay for it," he says, a little too earnestly for a joke. Ian blushes, even as he scrunches up his nose. 

"Wow, thanks so much," he says flatly, sending them both into a fit of giggles. When it subsides, Anthony lets out a little sigh. He looks serious again, and the words that follow don’t come easy.

 “I didn't know you were struggling too, not 'til later. At the time, I thought you’d just stopped giving a shit. I couldn’t bear it; Smosh was our baby, and watching you be so casual about losing it was driving me crazy. But on top of that..” he hesitates for a moment, looking down at his hands. “Worse than that, I thought you’d stopped caring about me.”

"I could never. The truth is, at some point, I knew that you were gonna leave, before you said anything," Ian fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt cuff. "I gave up. I thought I'd already lost you; and if I'd admitted to myself how bad things were with Defy, I would have left, too. But that would mean losing Smosh completely, and then I'd have nothing to offer you.

I hung in there because I thought, if I get through this, if I can fix it, maybe he'll come back. Things got worse before they got better, and then you seemed to be doing so well. By the time I felt like Smosh was back on track, you were so successful on your own; I couldn't imagine you wanting to come back."

"Ian, what-" Anthony tries not to let frustration get the best of him. "That’s the second time you’ve said that: Without Smosh you had nothing to offer me? I loved Smosh, still do, but what you and I have has always mattered more."

This is it, Ian knows. This is the moment to be completely honest and vulnerable; speak now or forever hold your peace. Tell Anthony everything and let the chips fall where they may; or keep up the white lie that has fueled the fire leading to Anthony's departure. Here they are, hanging out for the first time in years, and as much as it terrifies Ian to threaten this budding new beginning, he knows he has to be honest.

He takes a deep breath, voice shaking slightly as he struggles to get the words out. "I'm not saying this was in any way reasonable, but.. I thought, if I didn't have Smosh as a buffer, I would ruin everything. I knew I could never have you the way I wanted, but with Smosh, at least there'd be this big thing keeping us together."

When he finally dares to look at Anthony, he finds him staring, stunned. "The way you wanted? We're best friends, did you want.. more?"

This is it. "Yes, I wanted- I want," Ian sighs, closing his eyes. "I never wanted to risk Smosh, and I especially never wanted to risk our friendship, but yes. Anthony, I'm so s-"

"I'm in love with you."

Ian's eyes fly open. "What?!"

Anthony rises to his feet, sits back down, gets back up, and starts pacing nervously. "Fuck, I can't believe I just said that."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes, obviously!"

Ian gets up as well but stays in place as he watches Anthony do a lap around the living room. “You were in love with me and you never told me?”

“You never told me either!”

“Well, obviously not! What if it had ruined our friendship and the company we built together?”

A laugh sputters out of Anthony, stopping him in his tracks. He comes closer, carefully, as if unsure if he’s allowed. “I guess I can’t really throw stones when.. I’m a house of glass.”

Ian frowns. “What?”

“I don’t know, I can’t think right now, can I just-?” 

Anthony takes another step forward and reaches for Ian, pulling him closer by his shirt. Ian goes willingly. He closes his eyes as he feels Anthony's breath on his chin. When their lips meet, Anthony sighs happily, and neither of them pull away to end the kiss, instead deepening it.

The idea that Anthony has to lean down to kiss him has Ian swooning a little. He's left antiquated ideas of masculinity behind long ago, uninterested in being a man's man; emotional vulnerability is old hat at this point; but being cradled in Anthony's arms still makes him feel safer and more protected than he's ever thought another man could make him.

He flicks his tongue over Anthony's bottom lip and is immediately granted access. Their combined breaths grow heavier, and hands start to explore. Ian sneaks a hand under Anthony's shirt, feeling delirious as abs flex under his touch. Anthony, made shameless by his arousal, doesn’t hesitate to grab a handful of Ian's ass and pull him even closer. Feeling the press of Anthony's hard-on against his stomach, Ian moans into the kiss and pulls back.

"Sorry, sorry," Anthony says, swallowing hard. "That was a lot."

"Don't be sorry; I was gonna suggest we move it to the bedroom."

For all that he's fantasized about it, Ian could never have imagined how having sex with Anthony would really be. In their friendship, they were always equals; in Anthony's bedroom, he takes charge, gently but firmly moving Ian around. He takes his sweet time laying him down on soft sheets, kissing and stroking each new section of skin exposed as they undress each other. When he pulls off Ian's t-shirt and throws it aside, Ian feels a flash of panic, insecurity surging.

They’ve seen each other in various stages of undress countless times; but since it happened last, Anthony discovered the healing powers of yoga and 5-hour tattoo sessions, while Ian put Smosh first and sacrificed all means of self-care. Instinctively, he covers his soft stomach, but Anthony is quick to catch his wrists, pinning them down by Ian's sides.

"Excuse me, I need a tidy workspace," he says, ignoring Ian's noise of discontent.

Releasing Ian's wrists, Anthony runs his hands up to Ian's chest and squeezes appreciatingly, earning himself a glare. "Are you having fun?"

"So much fun."

Ian sighs, accepting his fate; it’s hard to be truly upset when Anthony seems so genuinely into his body, needing to touch and taste everything. It’s not until they are in their underwear that Anthony seems hesitant. He stands next to the bed, paused with his hands on the waistband of his briefs, ready to pull them down, when he seems to have a dip in confidence.

His eyes are dark with lust but all too serious when they seek out Ian's. "Is this crazy?"

Ian pretends to think about it, then nods. "It's pretty crazy. Show me your cock."

Anthony sputters out a laugh, collecting himself as he sits down on the bed next to Ian. He strokes Ian's thigh, giving it an approving squeeze, willing his eyes to stop roaming while he voices his concern.

"I'm serious, Ian, are we being crazy? We've been apart for a while; now we're reconnecting and we're jumping right into bed? I don't wanna ruin this before it begins; this is not gonna be a hook-up and then radio silence, I won't do it."

Ian raises himself up on his elbow, "That's not gonna happen, I promise. I know this is all going so fast,  but at the same time, I've been wanting this for literal years."

"Me too," Anthony says quietly.

"And we've both done anal before."

Anthony blushes, averting his eyes as he can’t fight back a smile. "Yeah, but I haven't been on the receiving end."

"Well, I have, so no worries."

"You've bottomed?!" Anthony whips his head back, staring incredulously. "I didn't know that, when was this? With who?"

Ian chuckles, endeared by Anthony seeming offended that Ian hasn't told him. After all, there was a time when they shared every little detail of their dating and sex lives; and Ian bottoming would definitely have been a big conversation, likely the day after it happened.

He shrugs, trying to sound casual. "An ex-girlfriend I was with for a year or so; you haven't met her, it started and ended while we've been apart. I let her peg me."

Anthony swallows, folding his arms across his chest. He nods slowly. "How was it?"

"I liked it. Only did it twice, though; while it was happening, I couldn't stop thinking about this guy I'm in love with."

Anthony scoffs out a laugh, but a blush rises to his cheeks. He gives Ian a gentle push, making him lie back, leaning down to join their lips for another kiss. It turns intense again almost immediately, and soon they are both panting heavily against each other’s mouths. Anthony backs off, ignoring Ian's protests; he shoves his briefs down and manages to kick them off before reaching for Ian's as well.

Ian consents with a distracted nod as he stares at Anthony's hard cock, his stomach flipping with anticipation at the size of him. He's seen it before, but not fully hard and not when he felt that he was allowed to look. Then, before he can register what is happening, Anthony has straddled him. "If you want me to bottom, you need to rearrange."

"Patience, baby, I just wanna see.."

Ian tries really hard to ignore how being called baby by Anthony is making him feel, instead watching as Anthony pushes down his own erection so it lays flush against Ian's stomach. He groans and his cock twitches. The look Ian shoots him is both amused and judgmental. "Are you measuring?"

"No, this would be measuring," Anthony says, taking both their cocks in his hand. Ian's hips buck slightly at the contact. Anthony chuckles, eyes darkening. "I was just checking how deep in your guts I'm gonna be."

Ian just barely manages to hold back a whimper, instead raising one knee to kick Anthony in the back.

"Go get lube, you freak. You have lube, right?"

Anthony's face blanches momentarily, then he dismounts and flees the room, coming back seconds later with a bright purple tube of lube, brand new with the plastic seal still on. He holds it up for Ian to see, holding his other hand up behind it like a beauty influencer showing off a product. Ian motions for him to get things moving and he grins, taking off the plastic seal. 

"Adam & Eve sponsored some videos; they sent me a bunch of stuff. That drawer is full of condoms," he says with a nod, indicating the nightstand to Ian's left. Ian opens the drawer, which does indeed contain at least a dozen 10-packs of condoms. He opens a full pack and takes one out, turning it between his fingers.

"Full because you don't ever use them," he says teasingly.

 Anthony doesn’t laugh. He throws the plastic seal in the trash and brings the lube over to the bed. He sets it down on the nightstand for a moment, reaching down to carefully take off Ian's glasses, looking into his eyes as he lowers them.

"Yeah, I haven't been interested in anyone else in a long time."

For someone jittery with eagerness, Anthony demonstrates extreme patience as he opens Ian up with slick fingers. Ian is choking back moans, leaking onto his own stomach as he gives Anthony the little guidance he needs. The memory of getting prepped by his ex-girlfriend is distant and growing dimmer by the minute. Anthony is less practiced, but he makes up for it in awed enthusiasm, eyes flickering from Ian's blushing face to his hole clenching around Anthony's fingers.

Soon Ian decides that Anthony has made sufficient room for himself and pulls him closer, kissing him messily as he rolls on a condom. Anthony lines himself up and presses his lips to Ian's neck as he inserts himself, little by little as Ian adjusts. When he finally bottoms out, Ian shudders out a moan, shaking hands finding Anthony's hips.

"Don't move."

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, I just don't wanna come yet."

Anthony snickers, placing a row of slow kisses from Ian's jaw to his shoulder. "I'm flattered."

"So full of yourself."

"I think you're one who's full of me, actually."

Ian rolls his eyes and Anthony laughs, gently brushing hair off Ian's damp forehead. They lock eyes, and for a moment time stands still as the weight of the moment hits them; after years spent missing each other, stumbling through the dull ache of loss, they have found their way back to each other in a way neither of them had dared hope for.

Part of Ian wants this moment to go on forever, savor their closeness for as long as he can before something else can try to break them. The rest of him, however, is very aware of Anthony's cock brushing his prostate.

“Okay,” he says in an outbreath. "Move."

Anthony does. He starts slow, careful and deliberate, rolling his hips in short, measured thrusts while searching Ian's face for signs of discomfort. The stretch is delicious even after his thorough prep, and Ian sighs in pleasure, pulling him in for a messy kiss, urging him to pick up the pace. Their combined sounds mix with birdsong from outside and in the midst of it, even with his face scrunched up in pleasure, Ian can't help but smile at the fact that he's having what may be the best lay of his life in broad daylight with his best friend.

Anthony slows down slightly, returning the smile, puzzled. "Why are you smiling?"

"You're still my best friend."

Anthony's hips jerks forward and a small moan startles out of him. He blushes and hides his face while Ian cackles. "Did that do something for you? You out here getting off on the power of friendship?"

"Shut the fuck up." 

Before Ian can crack another joke, Anthony kisses him and speeds up his thrusts again, harder now, tapping his prostate on every turn. Ian groans against his lips, fingers digging into his sides, and Anthony pulls one of Ian's legs around himself to get deeper. They gasp into each other's mouths, bodies moving in perfect sync with each other as they always did. Anthony nips the sensitive skin under Ian's ear and revels in the whimper he gets in response. 

"I'm close," Ian grits out as his cock twitches between their bodies.

Anthony nods jerkily in agreement, kissing him reassuringly. He gets a hand between them to jerk Ian off with a firm grip. "Me too, I'm- I'll follow you."

Promise? Ian thinks, and then he tumbles over the edge, moaning out a string of fuck-fuck-fuck as cum splatters up his chest. Anthony's rhythm falters at the sight, and as Ian tightens further around him, he surges forward to bring their sweaty foreheads together.

"Oh, oh my-" The sentence bleeds into a deep groan as he comes. 

The rolls of his hips slow to a stop, and he brings their mouths together for another kiss. They lay there for a moment, catching their breath. Anthony's stomach flexes and unflexes a few times as the last traces of his orgasm ebb out, inadvertently rubbing against Ian's oversensitive cock and making him whimper.

Anthony pulls back, giggling. Running soothing fingers up and down Ian's chest, he carefully pulls out, and - slightly wobbly - he gets out of bed to dispose of the condom. He returns just in time to see Ian's eyes slip shut, and huffs out a laugh at the sight.

"Don't fall asleep, we gotta to clean up."

"Okay," Ian whispers but makes no effort to stay awake. Just before he knocks out completely, he's vaguely aware of Anthony wiping down both off their chests using Ian's t-shirt. Bastard.  

Ian traces one line of Anthony’s tattoos across his chest, following its path downwards while Anthony watches his concentrated face with a fond smirk. When the line ends in a swirl by his groin, Ian flattens his hand on Anthony’s hip, thumbing the slightly protruding bone.

“They say that there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.“

Anthony nods slowly. “At the end of the inky swirl it’s a dick instead.”

“I think I like that better.”

“I’m sure you do, gaylord.”

“Excuse me?!” Ian yells, and Anthony lets out a cackling laugh, not stopping even as he takes a pillow to the face. Ian straddles him, poking his fingers into Anthony’s sides. “You just had sex with a guy, I was there, and you’re calling me a gaylord?”

“Mercy!” Anthony yelps, still laughing, as he squirms to avoid Ian’s prodding fingers.

“Mercy? How about ‘sorry’! You don’t get to call me a gaylord, gaylord!”

Anthony catches both of his wrists, wheezing from laughter and tickles. “Sorry, I’m sorry!”

Ian lets his arms go limp and sighs, rolling his eyes. Anthony giggles and shakes his hands a little, making Ian’s arms wiggle. When he releases them, Ian plants his hands flat on Anthony’s chest, forcing a small ‘oomph’ out of him.

“I don’t think you’re sorry.”

Anthony’s eyes widen ever so slightly as a small jolt of anxiety runs through him. “What do you mean?”

“If you were really sorry,” Ian says, scowl softening into a grin. “you wouldn’t be at half-mast right now. Can’t even have a naked man sitting on you without getting a boner.”

“I feel like that’s a normal reaction.”

“You would feel like that, gaylord.”

Barking out a laugh, Anthony grips Ian’s hips and rolls them over. “You’re the gay one,” he says, panting with effort as he tries to pin Ian down, surprised at the amount of strength necessary. He’s suddenly reminded that Ian used to be something of an athlete.

Ian struggles half-heartedly .“Everyone always said you’re the pretty one, and I think we know what that means!”

Anthony snorts, finally trapping Ian’s wrists against the mattress, hips pressed between his legs to hold him in place. He’s fully hard now, and Ian is catching up quick. Anthony leans down and captures his lips in a slow, wet kiss. Ian moans against him and it’s like music to his ears. He pulls back, huffing out a small laugh when Ian tries to follow.

“If I say that I’m the gay one, can I fuck you again?”

Ian pretends to think about it, even as Anthony feels his cock twitch against his abdomen. Ian sighs dramatically. “Fine, but no take-backsies; if I let you put your dick in me again, you’re the gay one forever.”

Anthony sits back on his heels, eyes darkening as he pushes Ian’s thighs towards his torso. “Deal.”

After round two, they both drop into an unplanned nap. When they rouse, the early evening sun casts a soft, peachy pink glow over their tired bodies as they slowly get out of bed. Ian groans in pain and supports himself on the nightstand before taking a few unsteady steps. Anthony winces, shooting him an apologetic look.

“Shit, sorry, did I..?”

Ian waves dismissively. “Not my ass, my back; next time you decide to put me in a mating press, let me limber up first.”

“I know a guy who can teach you some yoga.”

Ian ignores him and they end up in the shower. Anthony insists on washing Ian’s hair and immediately gets shampoo in his eyes, giggling uncontrollably as he helps wash it out. Ian soaps up Anthony’s pecs for several minutes with a look of deep concentration and Anthony gets hard again.

“So definitely just your back hurts, right?” Anthony says, sneaking a hand down to Ian’s ass.

They do rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to leave the hot shower and fetch the lube. Anthony loses and pads barefoot to the bedroom, leaving a trail of water. When he returns, he pulls Ian out of the shower anyway and bends him over the bathroom counter.

Ian hisses as his bare stomach makes contact with cold marble, followed by a second hiss when Anthony pushes inside of him for the third time that day. Maybe he is a little sore, but he doesn’t even consider saying stop, especially when Anthony moans beautifully behind him.

Instead, he says, “I don’t know if I can come again,” and before Anthony can ask, “Don’t stop.”

Anthony grunts in response and fuck into him with small, shallow movements, clearly trying to be careful. It’s very sweet, Ian thinks, but it won’t do. He reaches behind him and grabs one of Anthony’s wrists, pulling him closer.

“We get it, you have a big dick; now stop fucking me from 10 feet away, I’m freezing.”

Anthony chuckles fondly and kisses a few waterdrops off Ian’s back, mesmerized by the goosebumps spreading across his pale skin. Sliding his arms around Ian’s waist, he shuffles closer, plastering his front to Ian’s back and burying his cock as deep as it will go.

Ian moans in pleasure and pain as he clenches around him, and nods with determination. “Alright, gaylord, get it done.”

Anthony huffs out a laugh in response. He barely pulls out, instead rolling his hips in short, sharp thrusts, nailing Ian’s prostate every time. Their combined moans echo off the bathroom tiles as Anthony makes short work of it; they’re both too tired and sore for this. Just this once, though, overstimulation is his friend, and he jerks Ian off in time with his thrusts, all but forcing his third orgasm out of him.

Ian yelps and shakes as few drops of cum drip onto the floor, and his body vice grips around Anthony, pulling his release from him. Ian’s knees wobble and it’s only Anthony’s body on his that keeps him from sliding onto the floor in a boneless heap.

Anthony presses his lips against Ian’s neck and doesn’t move for a good minute, breathing laboriously against his sensitive skin. Finally, having caught his breath, he lifts his head just enough to whisper, “I’m gonna pull out, are you standing?”

Ian nods, not sure if it’s true or not, and Anthony very carefully disconnects them, making soothing noises as Ian grimaces. Despite his protests, Anthony runs him a bath. He dozes off in the hot water, waking up momentarily to see Anthony sitting on the bathmat next to the tub, making sure he doesn’t drown. He’s reading a book about mindfulness, occasionally glancing at Ian, checking on him. Ian smiles softly before slipping back into slumber. The second time he wakes up, the water is tepid, and Anthony is asking for his takeout order.

Once the food arrives, they set up camp in the living room. Ian sits sidesaddle on the couch with a soft pillow under him, wearing Antony’s top sheet like a toga. Anthony is next to him, manspreading in his bathrobe and boxers. They eat in relative silence with Planet Earth playing on the big TV.

After slurping up the last of his pho, Ian sets down the bowl and chopsticks and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Okay, this might sound crazy, but-“

Anthony groans around a mouthful of vegan spring roll. “If you wanna go again, you can sit on it; I’m not getting up.”

Ian snorts, feeling his cheeks flush. “Jesus, that’s not what I meant; besides, my ass needs like, three business days to recover. Maybe let me finish?”

“I had you finishing a lot,” Anthony mumbles. Ian shoots him a look and he chuckles, holding a hand up in defense. Setting down his empty food container, he shifts one leg onto the couch to better face Ian.

“Sorry, finish your sentence, please. This might sound crazy, buuuut..?”

Ian looks into his eyes, and for one brief moment, they’re 16 again, sitting on Anthony’s bed in his childhood bedroom, brainstorming sketch ideas. Their shared history spans two decades, and he wouldn’t do a thing differently out of fear that they would end up anywhere but here. In the present, Anthony’s heart thumps; Ian looks as radiant and unafraid as Anthony always remembers him, and the look he gives Anthony is bright like the sun. “What if we bought back Smosh?”

//

[raddest-laddest]

i think bug parents would probably wait to buy their children a mask until around their final molt— unless they have a lot of geo to burn

[bisexualcage]

CAGE CON | Chapter One

Johnny Cage x Trans male reader

Pairing: Johnny Cage/Trans male/masc reader

Warnings: none for now! but this is gonna be a 18+ fic, so MDNI 🔞

Word Count: 1828

A/N: this is an ongoing series! so there will be other chapters!

As soon as you saw that a Cage Con was gonna be held in your city you could practically feel your heart drop to your ass. You stared at the announcement of the event on your phone for a few minutes in a state of shock before snapping out of it and looking through your bank account.

“…fuck.” you mumble, rubbing your head in frustration as you see you only had about 12 bucks and a simple autograph signing with THE Johnny Cage was 60 bucks. In retrospect, seeing as he’s a worldwide known action star that was relatively cheap but you’ve always been dirt poor. So you struggled as you tried to come up with a solution to see your favorite actor of all time, but ended up with no solutions.

You finally decided to attend Cage Con and at least buy the entrance ticket. Maybe if you were unbelievably lucky you’d see him walking around or come out to greet fans waiting outside his autograph signing. And that was just hopeful thinking, as soon as you got there the line was eternally long almost reaching the exit doors. You sigh to yourself, rubbing your eyes in frustration.

“Hey! can I take a picture? i really like your costume.” a feminine voice said near you, to which you snap out of your solemn state immediately.

“Oh- me? thank you. It’s just some ninja costume I put together last minute.” You chuckle shyly, but nod to their picture request.

As soon as they pose to take a picture next to you, you hear some commotion from people in the back of the line but ignored it as the girl snapped the picture.

“thank you!” The girl waved and walked off, you were about to utter a you’re welcome but she was already gone through the crowds of costumed people, loads of johnny cages and loads of his movie characters. Some Tarkatans though, which surprised you.

“You see how it feels? welcome to my world.” A deep yet energetic voice said behind you, everyone around you goes bonkers and you go completely pale as you turn to face the person. The voice extremely familiar.

It was Johnny. In the flesh, in front of you holding out a hand for you to shake with his usual shades and enthusiastic pearly smile. You try to talk but nothing comes out except a low “Hello..”

Johnny studies your reaction with his unwavering charismatic smile, looking down at your cheap last minute ninja costume with amusement. “You a fan pal? Stupid question right? we’re at Cage Con for christ sake. Nice to meet you, cool fit mister ninja! even though I can’t see your face with that mask.” Johnny chuckles as he takes your shaky hand in his and holds it.

“Yeah- I’m a fan. A huge fan. Honestly i didn’t even think you’d come out here to the floor-“ You finally were able to move your mouth, his hand still shaking yours for an unexpectedly long time which made you grow fiery red under your ninja mask.

And thank god for masks.

Johnny scoffs, “Why not? I know not everyone can afford a signature— so i come out here sometimes to greet all the beautiful Johnny Cages and Jannettes.”

A fan with a Tarkatan costume approaches and yells with a bunch of others, interrupting your moment with Johnny.

“…And beautiful Tarkatans of course! See you inside the signing hall?” He walks backwards with a grin.

“Oh I don’t have tickets for the signing…” You say with an embarrassed tone.

“Don’t worry about it, get in line alright?” Johnny said vaguely before walking off, a bunch of fans screaming on top of their lungs as he made his way inside the signing hall.

You were stunned. Did your favorite actor just walk up to you, shake your hand, and say hello? Did he mean what he said? To get in line? Imagine getting into trouble. That being said, you nervously waited in line while the length of the queue gradually shrank. Your legs were killing you after nearly an hour had passed. As you make it to one of the security guards who was checking for ticket confirmation before entering to get your autograph you froze. Not knowing what to do or say, before you could utter anything the guards radio went off; “Words from Johnny, let the fella pass, over.”

The security guard made a studious expression at you before letting you pass with an apprehensive look. You turn warm, feeling your heart beating out of your chest. He really meant it huh? You were speechless beyond words as you walked in the signing room. There was Johnny on a table signing autographs and cracking jokes, laughing with some fans who were ahead of you.

“fuck fuck fuck…” you whisper to yourself in anxiety, clenching your fists. As the fans ahead of you leave and wave to Johnny you immediately freeze not moving as he sits there and waves you over.

Johnny scoffs and stares at your frozen figure with amusement, “Hey, mister ninja! Medusa got you or something? come here i don’t bite.”

“Oh- uhm- yeah sorry.” You walk over with heavy steps, still feeling on otherworldly from everything that’s happened.

Johnny’s smirk softens; signaling for you to sit next to him a chair as he takes out a signing poster of his. You hesitantly take a seat next to him; “It’s my first time at con, so i’m a little shaken up.” you try and play it off as if your nerves weren’t due to him but the event.

Johnny laughs, taking his shades off. Those big brown puppy eyes, his aura now seeming more approachable and soft. He didn’t look like an unreachable celebrity figure, just a cute guy.

“Don’t worry about it bro! You know how many people i’ve had sobbing in front of me and declaring their love for me today alone? your reaction is….a nice change.” Johnny smiles at you before glancing down at his poster before looking back up at you, studying your face before clearing his throat; “Anyways, how do you spell your name, sport?”

You chuckle a bit of redness around your neck as you spell it out for him.

“Thats a kickass name man.” he continues to write on the poster your name along something else that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

“Oh it’s kinda basic in my opinion but thank you.”

“Basic? you know many Steven’s and Emily’s i’ve met today?” He says partially joking as he looks up from signing the poster. “Plus, my name isn’t exactly the most unique if we’re being honest.” He said with a small grin, “Don’t get me wrong it’s badass though.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, it definitely is.”

“So hey, what’s your favorite film of mine? You said you were a big fan supposedly.” Johnny leans back on his chair and crosses his arms with a smile.

You clear your throat, “Oh, uhm, definitely Time Smashers.”

Johnnys eyes widen; “Finally! someone saying Time Smashers! most people say the most popular ones like Ninja Zombie but Time Smashers is one of my favorite projects. I spend so much time on that script.”

“I just recognize that work was put in to it, I can tell it was done from the soul. Thank you for letting me in by the way” You say shyly, avoiding his brown eyes.

Johnny stayed silent, observing your face with warmth a few seconds before speaking up; “No problemo! Say….you took your mask off.”

“Oh- yeah i did. I figured it wouldn’t be respectful if i just kept it on while meeting my favorite actor.”

Johnny chuckles and hands you the signed poster rolled up. “Yeah it would be very uncool, man.” He jokes.

You take the poster from him and stand; “hah well- Thank you so much.” you say quickly.

“Hold on hold on- the signing hall is pretty much cleared out. I’m done for the day you don’t gotta dash out so quickly. You want a selfie, pal?” Johnny stands with his hands in his pockets.

Your cheeks grow red, “Really? just like that?”

“Yeahhhhh, stop being such a wimp.” He says jokingly with zero malice behind his voice. “This is a lifetime opportunity for you and i’m feeling…very giving today.”

“Alright but- i’m horrible at selfies…” You scoff a bit.

“Don’t worry. i’m the master of photogenic photography.” Johnny took out his phone to which you raise an eyebrow in surprise. “I could send you the pictures later on, my phone has good quality.” Johnny brags before walking next to you and holding his phone up as he tries to find a good angle with you both.

“Cheese…” You say as you look at the camera shyly.

“nuh uh- do something fun! loosen up mister ninja! You can get close.” He smiles warmly as he looks at you and wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“hah- alright-“ You cheeks turn redder as he holds up the phone again, you throw a peace a sign and he takes the selfie.

“Oh that one’s nice.” Johnny looked at the selfie on his screen, you peeked at it and smiled; his arm was around you and his pearly whites showing— his shades hanging from his buttoned up shirt. “What’s your number?”

You clear your throat and your eyes widen; “What? you whisper.

“Your phone number so I can send you the selfies, silly goose.” Johnny ruffles your hair a bit.

“Oh yeah of course- it’s- it’s- (phone number).” You mumble, still quite taken aback.

Johnny types your number in and texts you the selfies, making your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish out your phone and look at two selfies he sent, your smile contagious as you look down at your phone.

“Thank you so much man-“ You say with enthusiasm, “Id never thought this’d ever happen.”

Johnny pats your shoulder a bit; “It’s my pleasure.” He studies your expression a bit before speaking up again; “Say, keep the number.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Keep it. We’re pals now, no?”

You chuckle, “That quickly?”

“Hell yeah, you’re so chill. A dedicated cool person.”

“Alright. I’ll keep it.” You smile at him, your eyes so big and warm.

“Okie dokie, sport. I’m gonna get going it’s been a long ass day, but hey don’t be shy and text me up sometimes. I’m just a regular guy. Well not too regular, i’m above average but you get what I mean..” Johnny chuckles before patting your back one more time before leaving with his body guards out the semi empty convention through the back doors.

You stayed there for a moment in shock, trying to ground yourself. You then opened your signed poster up and saw his message; “To (name)! My greatest fan ever! Stay rockin it, I appreciate your support. P.S you look great without the mask :)”

“Oh my fucking god!“

[battleclawed]

What if the Sacred Orb survived and was the most doomed girl to ever live... long-ish OC lore under the cut

In my AU, the Battle of the Burning is pushed back a little bit, so Kludd gets to be an alive dad to both the Sacred Orb and Coryn for a while. Don't worry he still dies

I've named my Sacred Orb OC Guinevere as a nod to Kludd and Nyra's Lancelot/Guinevere-ness (bonus points because the root for "Guin" means "white"). She goes by Gwen in daily life, though Nyra likes to use her full name.

Gwen is Kludd's mini-me, right down to her appearance. When Gwen is still very young, she's closer to her mother, but as she gets older and her parents tell her about their plans and her role as heir, her father becomes her entire world.

(As far as Kludd's parenting goes, I can't imagine he likes babies at all so he's in distant father mode until Gwen starts actually having a personality, at which point he's like "Wait. This thing (my child) worships me and I get to tell it what to do and mold it into whatever I want? Sick this rules")

Gwen's worldview and sense of self are entirely built upon the idea that she is not only superior to all non-Tyto owls but also superior to everyone--she hatched from the Sacred Orb, she is the most Pure, she is the perfect heir who will inherit her father's kingdom.

The first crack in this view is the birth of Coryn (who's still Nyroc at this point). Nyra starts paying more attention to Coryn because he's born on the eclipse, which irks Gwen. She's the one who hatched from the Sacred Orb; who cares about some moon magic?

Gwen develops a complex about not being an eclipse baby and takes it out on her little brother, but otherwise ignores him. She thinks he's weird in classic mean big sister fashion. They are not close.

Before Kludd dies, Gwen is unshakably confident; she is, after all, the perfect heir, a great fighter, a Tyto Most Pure, just like her invincible, infallible father, right? The world will be hers one day. She is perfect, her family is perfect, and nothing will ever go wrong.

(Also, there's no way Kludd and Nyra are letting their precious heirs kill each other, so Gwen's TUPSI is her friend Cinder, a Lesser Sooty. Cinder was born into the Pure Ones, completely buys into their ideology, and is perfectly honored to be a sacrifice.)

("I'm honored that my death will make you purer," Cinder whispers. "I'm so happy to die for you." Gwen can't afford to hesitate. Her father is watching.)

Kludd dies in the AU equivalent of the Battle of the Burning, which completely shatters Gwen's worldview. After his death, she takes on the title of High Tyto, dons his mask and his battle claws, but they don't quite fit. She tries to be strong just like her father, but she slowly starts to crack.

Coryn still has firesight, so he still leaves for the Great Tree after seeing visions in the flames of Kludd's final ceremony. Nyra is deeply upset by this. Gwen is glad her mother belongs only to her again, but also plagued by the idea that maybe her mother would prefer for Coryn to have become the High Tyto instead.

In the wake of her father's death, sometimes Gwen wishes her mother would hug her and hold her like she's a chick again, but she knows that can never happen. She's the High Tyto now. She can't afford to show weakness.

Gwen is a good soldier but not as talented of a commander as her father was (or at least, she believes he was). The Pure Ones lose battle after battle after battle under her command, which only makes her spiral even further. (She puts on a facade of confidence to mask this. It mostly works.)

Nyra and Gwen argue constantly after Gwen becomes the High Tyto. Nyra wishes her daughter would obey her. Gwen wishes her mother would trust her abilities. They're all the other has left and yet they make each other miserable.

("I'm the High Tyto," Gwen says. "I'm the one in charge." Nyra counters by pointing out that she is the one born on the eclipse, the one with the great enchantment. Gwen resents her mother more and more, but she has no one else to rely on.)

She wonders if maybe Nyroc would've been better. Maybe it should've been him after all? Maybe this is all because she wasn't born on the eclipse. Maybe she was the wrong choice, except she can't be wrong because that would mean Cinder died for nothing. She can't be wrong because that would mean her father (who taught her and raised her and believed in her) would be wrong too, and that just isn't possible.

Coryn obtains the Ember of Hoole and becomes king of the Great Tree. Gwen wishes she'd been allowed to kill him in her TUPSI after all.

During their final confrontation, Gwen corners Coryn and tries to kill him--tries to avenge her father, defend the legacy he left her, justify her entire existence--but can't go through with it. (It's all too much. She wishes she was still a hatchling. She wishes her father was still alive. She wishes none of this had ever happened at all.)

Gwen surrenders, but, seized by the need to not disappoint her father even after his death, tries to kill Coryn one more time in an act of betrayal. She almost succeeds, but is stabbed through the back by Twilight.

Gwen dies a bloody death, just like her father. As the world grows dark, she wonders if he's proud of her.

[iblameashley]

Market Mingle and *Tea*lights.

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,593 words

Content: None really. Pure fluff.

Follow up to The Gift of Giving.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You happen to run into Simon at the local market and take the opportunity to spend some time with him shopping. Who can resist a little mingling and maybe a spot of tea after?

(Tea-lights is a stupid play on Delights...)

(Special shout-out to @mysticalzombiecheesecake who asked to be tagged.)

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

What better way to spend your day than outside and at the local market? It was a little later in the day than you expected, but sleeping in is also nice. You were lucky to have a remote job and generally didn't have to deal with office life. This afforded you a lot of leeway when it came to work-life balance, but nothing was better than actual time off to get out and do things for yourself.

The market itself was a great place. Vendors were always swapping out and there were a variety of trinkets, tools, clothing, food and more up for barter. The fact that it also bordered a nearby park helped for escaping the crowded stalls at a moments notice. You hiked your bags up on your shoulder.

What you didn't expect to find at the market was Simon. But there he was, three vendors down in his usual mask, a dark hoodie and jeans, and standing taller than most everyone else around him. He seemed fixated on something you couldn't make out from your position.

Wanting to be sure it was him, and you weren't suffering some visual hallucination, you pull out your phone and send a message

You: Hey Simon! How goes today? What are you up to?

You see him reach in his pocket and pull out his phone.

Simon: It goes. I'm out right now. Simon: Are you looking to meet up again?

You smile as you read his message. Putting your phone back in your pocket, you slowly make your way over to him. You step lightly and walk slowly, hiding behind people as you closed the distance. You were sure you were going to get the drop on him, when he turned around suddenly to face you; his fist pulled back to his side.

His eyes softened as he realized it was just you and he relaxed his fist.

“Hey.” He says in his flat, gravelly voice. “Shouldn't try and sneak up on me, could get hurt.”

“Nah,” You say, waving away his warning. “You'd never hurt me.” You smile.

He looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask. “No pressure.” You add, raising your hands up.

He nods.

“Sure. Just planned to wander, so might be here a while.” He says, returning his attention to the item that had caught his attention.

You crane your head and move around to get a better view of it. Its a multi-tool. It looks old and is rusted, likely not useful for actual use, but if he's focused on it, it means something to him. You take in his interrogation of the tool as he looks it over several times.

“Gonna buy it?” You ask softly.

“Dunno.” He shrugs.

'Always giving away so little.' You think before taking position up beside him. He gives you a side eye, but stays silent.

After a few more minutes of looking over the tool and other wares, he turns and starts to walk away. You pivot on the spot and start walking with him, keeping pace to his longer stride.

Simon briefly stops at a stall selling blankets and gives them a look over, running his hands over the soft fabric and examining the colourful patterns. He looks at you again and simply says, “Not as good as my throw.”

Your heart skips a beat and your soul astral projects around the city before crashing back into your body. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the fact that, in his own way, he just gave you a compliment. He liked your throw, and now compared it to every other one he came across. You had no way of hiding your pleased embarrassment as the red spread across your face, but you managed to get out a low, “I'm glad you like my gift.”

“Mmm." He replies without looking at you.

He moves on to the next stall, this one selling a variety of books that must be well out of print. You can smell the earthy, musky aroma of the old pages as you both step up to the stand. Your eyes dart over the selection of old material; the vendor offering a bit of everything from manuals to romance novels to kitschy sci-fi books.

It was only by happenstance that you looked up to see the glimmer in Simon's eye as he also took in the fascinating sight of the selection before him. He reached down and picked up a particularly damaged booklet. The words on the cover were worn mostly off from age, and the spine had clearly seen better days. But you were able to make out a faint image of a series of guns and what looked like the picture of a World War II uniform. You smile warmly, it's very in line with what he seemed interested in.

“You should get it.” You say as you finger the pile of sci-fi books. You grab a few and begin reading the back.

“You think?” Simon asks genuinely.

“Yeah.” You give him an enthusiastic nod. “Would go well with the collection you already have.”

“Hmm.” He ponders the possibility of the purchase.

You can't help but chuckle at some of the synopsis of the books you have and stack them in your arms. You are definitely getting these.

Simon still seems unsure of the booklet, so you reach over and take it gently from his hands and add it to your stack. “We'll take these.” You say as you turn to the elderly woman tending the stand.

She flashes you a crooked smile and quickly tallies the books total.

“That'll be five pound twenty-five.” She says with a hoarse voice. “Need a bag, love?” She inquires as you rummage through your wallet.

“No, thank you.” You smile, handing her the exact change.

You turn back to Simon who simply stares at you as you hand the booklet back to him. “That was unnecessary.” He grunts, though still taking the booklet from your hand.

“You're welcome.” You say, ignoring his comment. You shove the books into one of the bags tucked under your arm, and see that Simon is already heading off to the next table. Though his eyes are still very much on the booklet.

Simon stops in front of a stand selling cured meats and starts placing an order, clearly having been here before. You watch as his mood shifts; he's not quite pleasant, but he's much nicer to the man currently filling several wrappers with a variety of goods.

You stand there quietly as he the friendly man hands over the meats in a bag and Simon pays. You're interest is piqued by his selections, offering a small look into the man who keeps himself well guarded.

“Having a party?” You ask with a hint of cheekiness as he notices you staring.

“Maybe.” He grunts.

“Am I invited?” You say, pressing him.

“No.” He huffs, once again making off for his next destination.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

After a few more stops, he makes his way to a shop that takes you by surprise; soaps and shampoos. You had to admit that he did always smell great, but he didn't seem the type to buy such things in front of people – friends – so carefree.

His eyes tactically scanned the offerings as if looking for something specific. You couldn't resist taking a look as well, picking up a bar of soap labelled 'Nomad.'

“Earthy and adventurous with a smoky note and hint of pine.” You say, reading the label. “Huh...” You take a sniff. “Smells nice!” You smile.

You set it back down and pick up another one; 'Midnight Forest.'

“Deep moss scent with cedarwood, and a touch of herbs.” Again you sniff it. You purse your lips, unconvinced.

Simon's attention is split between his search and your inquisitive exploration of the soap.

“Going to buy one?” He asks.

You shrug, picking up another one.

“Stealth.” You say.

Simon's eyes lock on the bar of soap.

“An invigorating mix of sandalwood, black peppercorn and a citrus zest.”

You see his hand twitching at his side, quickly realizing you found the one he was looking for, but he's too damn prideful to tell you. You smile, and enjoy the moment. You play with the bar of soap, examining it closely. “What do you think, Simon? Should I get this one?”

“Get what you want.” He says with annoyance. You can see he's grinding his teeth.

You look the soap over once more before deciding to put it down, instead you grab a bar of the 'Nomad,' and pay for it. Shoving it in the bag with your books.

“I'll wait for you over there.” You say, pointing to a quiet area where the market thins out.

You walk away before he can respond. As fun as it was to tease him, you decided to give him a little privacy to make his purchase. You understand its just soap to you, but to him its one more glimpse into his private life.

You look at your bag and books and chuckle at the realization you didn't get much of anything, despite the list you had in your head when you arrived. 'Oh well.' you think, you can always come back.

You see Simon make his way towards you with his usual steady, confident pace, he gives you a nod before stopping a few paces in front of you.

“Got everything I need.” He says with his gruff voice, pulling the bags up briefly to show you. “How about you?”

“No...” you admit, shaking your head, “but I can come back tomorrow, its getting late and I should be heading home.”

Simon nods, and jerks his head to the side, a silent signal that he will walk you to the other side of the market. You smile and nod back, once again walking by his side.

“It was good to see you here, Simon.” You say as you two weave through the crowd.

“Yeah.” He says. His voice is so low and soft you almost didn't hear him.

“Want to get together soon?” You inquire as you two reach your parting destination. “Its been a while.” You add.

“Yeah.” His voice still quiet and soft. “Soon.” He speaks up.

“Perfect, message me when you want me to come over. We can do a movie night or something.”

“Sounds good.” He says. He goes to walk away but stops. Simon examines the bags in his hand and then gazes back at you. He lets out a heavy breath. “You live close by, yeah?” He inquires.

You nod. “Yeah... maybe a ten minute walk?”

“Show me.” Simon commands. “Show me where you live.” His voice is low and gravelly.

“OK, wow... that was a bit threatening...” You say, jerking your head back in surprise. “Why do you want to go to my place?” You ask, furrowing your brow.

“You know where I live.” He says flatly. “You've seen my flat. I want to see yours.”

You consider his request as he stares you down. You know you both do and don't have a choice. If you told him no, he would probably respect it... but it risked bucking the relationship you two had. You take a deep breath. 'Fair is fair.' You think.

“Alright, Simon.” You agree. You motion in the direction of your flat with a wave of your hand before taking off, leaving him behind as he did to you earlier.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The walk to your flat was mostly uneventful. Simon spent a majority of it taking in the sights, sounds and people; likely never having been to this part of town before. Not a big surprise to you, he likely didn't venture far from his flat on the best of days.

“Not a bad place.” Simon mumbles as you both approach the small building.

It was a pretty basic building; ten units per level over four levels. Small balconies dotting across the exterior. A typical grey-black facade blended the building into the rest along the street. Small shrubs and flowers ran the perimeter of the buildings and filled the air with fragrant scents.

You usher him toward the entrance, typing in your code to enter the building. Simon follows strangely close behind you, but you try not to give it too much attention.

As you enter the flat, you gesture to the bag in his hand. “I'll put it in the fridge until you leave.”

He hands the bag over.

“Take a look around.” you say, giving him permission to roam freely.

Simon sets about your place in a tactical manner, following a path he created in his mind the moment he crossed the threshold of your doorway. He passed the kitchen with little interest and made his way to the living room, taking in the more lived-in feeling of the place. Pictures of your family are spread over the wall between paintings of forests and lakes, and children's art. Your TV stand and bookshelves are filled with reading material and figurines and trinkets. The room is overwhelming to him, the feeling of warmth and coziness curated causes his stomach to twist. He turns quickly and makes his was slowly but steadily towards the hallway.

He disappears from view and you let out a relieved sigh that you cleaned the flat. While he explores your bedroom and office, you put the kettle on and start making some tea. You grab some biscuits from the cupboard and plate them, setting them on the table.

You place two mugs on the counter as the kettle starts to whistle. The sounds seems to stir Simon's interest and he makes his way back to the kitchen. You stand there with a mug in hand, tea bag steeping.

“Thought you might stay for a cup?” You ask softly, handing him the hot mug.

He takes the mug from your hand, briefly touching your fingers.

“Have a seat.” You say, your heart jumping a bit at his touch.

You grab you own mug from the counter and take a seat across from Simon. You take a biscuit from the plate and dip it in your tea before taking a chomp out of it. You lean back in your chair and swallow the sweet treat.

“So whats the verdict?” You ask with a bit of playfulness. Its your flat, so you don't have to give a shit about rules one or two here -or any of them really - but especially those two. Your dynamic was changing and the rules were already bending, but being in your flat still gave you a bit more control. A bit more power.

“I can see several security concerns.” Simon replies flatly, moving his mask down to sip his tea. “But I suppose for a civilian, it will do.”

Was he joking?

You raise an eyebrow.

“Homey.” He adds, not looking at you.

“Well... you're welcome to visit any time.” You say.

He lets out a guttural growl.

You just look at him warmly, knowing you're assaulting him with a lot of stimulus. His mind must be working a mile a minute, so you let him think.

You take another drink of you tea. Sometimes just sitting in silence is enough.

[ganondoodle]

some random ideas for the totk rewritten project

krog (korok) seeds

i think i found a way to include krog seeds even if i reintroduced bags for expanding your inventory- what if the krog seeds are redeemed for the amiibo sets and maybe a few new things? that way you are not forced to engage with krog puzzles if you are tired of them and its not essential either, you can choose what armor set you want instead of being "surpised" by the same link hat three times in a row for fighting your way through the depths (like i was lol)

considering im rewriting the krog forest to be like a minidungeon with a unique miniboss and boss AND you start the quest for restoring the master sword there i think that this is acceptable

what if one of the expensive rewards was a krog armor set that includes the mask from the botw DLC but adds two more pieces, its effect could be to turn invisible as the krogs are to most people; considering how they are not invisible to everyone it could still work with important NPCs still seeing you AND you could run through monster camps without them chasing you if you just want to get through without you attacking them- since its expensive you gotta gather alot of krog seeds to buy it meaning it wouldnt make encounters much easier bc you have to fight alot of monsters before being able to afford it anyway and the effect is removed once you attack an enemy .... or maybe once you are spotted you can stand still and the effect restores itself nhfkjdnkjfdk

food + storage

to raise the difficulty a little i thought about bringing bottles back, they are physical items this time with a limited number and are able to store medicine and soup that has no expiration date; personally i like cooking tho so i want to keep it, maybe with the effect of being a bit more limited in number and, while not spoiling completely, it loses some of its effectiveness over time

how you use them im not yet sure, either the same way in inventory (which i think i will go for since i dont want to change it that drastically and with the added balance of limitation i think that is still fine) or on some kind of item wheel you can set yourself like in skyward sword

there are bags you can find as bigger items that will expand your weapon, shield or bow inventory slots, perhaps a small bag gives you one and a big one two slots- it would be a bigger and different reward for exploring or quests and fills the spot for inventory expansion

theres a chest in links house (i thought maybe links house is still links but they built onto it so zelda has a place to stay as well, like a bigger/double house) that can hold armor sets if you dont want to keep carrying all of them around but dont want to sell them either

repairable weapons through zelda

weapons still break but are full weapons again, i found the excuse of them all being useless now through the cataclysm ... somehow for some reason a pretty blatant way for forcing you to fuse stuff bc its literally the only viable thing to do, but i like the idea of inventing new weapons with materials; to balance it out and give you an incentive to help out your friends i figured that at first weapons still break, but in each region is a smith that can teach zelda (who is your companion in this rewrite) how to repair weapons of a certain type (zora, spear, goron, two handed, rito, bows, gerudo, one handed-- perhaps it is a longer quest of idk .. bringing certain weapons to those smith or similar) which she can do anywhere outside combat;

how broken the weapon is determines how much extra material she may need to do it- im still working on it but i got the idea of the status of the weapon being symbolized in three stages, fine, damaged and broken; damaged is the one that needs less material to fix up, broken costs more- a broken one might still occupy an inventory slot but is unusable or very very bad damage wise, you can throw it away either manually or when you try to pick up a new one you can choose if you want to swap it out (just like they did with stuff from chests in totk .. idk why they didnt add that to in game weapons lying on the ground too) or choose to keep it and repair it once you are out of combat

arrow types

i dont like the menuing in totk for the arrows ... it was one of the most frustrating things to deal with (especialyl bc it sorted your inventory too??? when you used the sorting in the quick menu???) so i wanted to change that a little, havign to go into the quick menu everytime for each arrow i find tedious too, so;

there are more arrow types but they are craftable with arrows and materials, you can craft them in bulk out of combat (the typical types from botw -fire,eletric,ice,bombs- but then add those confusion ones, wind, the cloudy shroom thingy, poison .. perhaps a few more if i can think of more but not too mayn to not clutter it again)

enigma stones function

i wanted to change how enigma stones function somewhat, they dont "enhance" the ability of the champion/sage (i still wanna call them chmapions bc thats what they areeeee) it allows them to link an ability of theirs to link without the orginal champion having to be present or dead, the stones come in set of two each and function somewhat like a magic communication between the player and the champion, once you obtain the second piece its embedded into links shiekah arm prosthetic (also something of my rewrite) and allow him to call upon their ability at will through a second selection wheel

ranch ruins

the ranch ruins i wanted to be rebuild (bc thats cool and i thought restoration was a theme? lol) and maybe you help rebuild it proper and as thanks you can put your horses there to roam around all at once when not taken out to ride, not a big gameplay thing but a neat quest with a rebuilding thing of a building we havent seen in its prime and a neat addition of letting you see all your horsies at once :)

(totk rewritten project)

[hyacinthdoll1315]

4 Months of Moth HRT

Well, I got sick again. Uuuugh, like, I got the flu I think two weeks ago, it seemed to get better, and then I got sick again? not to mention what I've been feeling all week anyway and it sucks.

Okay, uh so, update time. (maybe i should talk about myself? just leave it at what happened.) So I'm not hanging out with my friends anymore. I think I already said I'd be doing that in the last update but it's way different to do something compared to saying it (say? do?) and well, my friend circle has become rather, small. Like, Alice still comes by sometimes to chat and hang out (yesterday? last week? I can't remember) but beyond her and maybe one or two friends I've made online, I'm pretty much alone in my little flat.

I don't really have the money to afford a big house or a cottage (maybe I could make one? flatting on land. how much money for a tiny forest home?) so for now I've been renting a small room in the city. It has been rather livable and nice in the past, but now, it's (HURTSHURTSHURTSHURTS can figure something out carsaretooLOUD) not great. Still, I'm working on a solution and I'm sure things will be okay, I think.

Um, still, I've been making progress in other things though! My tea has been really nice lately, and I found out that leaves are kind of tasty now? like, not lettuce or kale but like, small leaf parts are really yummy, I've um, kind of been buying tea bags just to open them and eat them found the leaves in tea to be a good snack.

My sense of smell is really good now too! And not just for tea, but other things. It's a little awkward since even when wearing a mask, I can still sometimes smell things (including things I did not think I'd be able to smell) which can sometimes be a bit gross. But the smell of different plants has been so calming!

My sense of taste has also changed a lot. I may not be eating cotton (not all moths do!! >:c ) but meats are just, not the same anymore, while stuff like carrots have been really nice! I can't be sure, but I think my reaction to some things have changed too? I can't tell I don't remember sugar keeps making me very excited, but at the same time, chocolate has been making me feel sick. (why must you betray me my dear chocolate?) Spicy food is also an absolute no-go now, I tried a bit of mild and started coughing from just the smell.

My eyesight hasn't been too good lately either, which I was told to expect as my eyes change. It's kind of like, everything was normal but blurry, and then suddenly I'm seeing a slightly fuzzy double vision? but now it's triple vision! it's kind of funny seeing like this! if I look in the mirror I end up just seeing like, 9 of me? super fun times with mirror buddies! it's super trippy but cool.

Sadly, this comes with a few downsides.

As said, I still don't know why but I've been feeling very sick (body just goes ick coughing, drool, sore throat, stomach aches) sometimes, and my sense of time sometimes slips, where I might be somewhere in midday, and suddenly the suns moved and I might be across the street? (amnesia? ADHD gone worse?) it tends to be a little after eating some things, but I don't know what's causing it. My stomach will just hurt really bad and sometimes, especially after something sugary, time seems to stutter.

I felt a bit better last week (thank goodness), like it was a bad flu that had finally passed, but now it's back again. not to mention, I think last time my body felt, tight? It, It hurts now. Like, not super sore, but like a headache across my whole body. I don't know what it is but I can see black splotches beneath my skin (blood? chitin? poison?) and I'm a bit scared. I tried asking the doctor for help, but he just gave me a reschedule for next week, the asshole barely knows and if I go to the ER, I'm not sure what they'll do. Maybe that's paranoid, but I don't think the doctors there will understand and will just assume I'm an alien or messed up human like everyone else.

I'm scared.

I don't think I can keep this to myself, I'm so lonely so I'm sending this journal entry online I think. Who knows, maybe someone will have the answer? (I'm not going off the hrt) so well, if anyone has any idea of how to fix this, or just has some funny cat videos to share or just wants to message, um, please do.

Goodbye Talk to you all later. Emily.

Previous | Next

[yogurt-boat-69]

Prepare now to keep your future self safe.

The US has always been a fascist country but we are now in a time of unprecedented surveillance and the mask-off fascism that we are about to experience will be more dangerous. If you are part of a demographic that might be targeted in the US, or if you plan on ever protesting or being a part of civil disobedience, now would be a good time to stock up. It is also a good idea for everyone else since we have more and more natural disasters and potentially less responsiveness.

-take out cash. If you can afford it, I'm talking a couple of thousand. And just keep it in a safe place for emergencies. Not under your mattress, that's where robbers would look if you got robbed

- make sure your passport is up to date

- buy physical maps of your area and surrounding areas, and mark on it things like bus stations, friends you would trust with your life, etc. Know various ways you could get out of your state and try to find out where toll roads are and where there might be backroads with less surveillance

- if you have public transportation in your area, buy physical tickets that aren't smart and have them on hand

-learn which of your items can track you- rings? Watches? Pedometers? Phones obviously. Car. Fast track. Computer. Tile. Just know ahead of time which things could be subpoenaed to get your location. Assume every tech company would comply. Know in case you ever want to not be tracked. And ideally stop carrying around so many things that can track you.

- plan ahead to see if you have access to a non smart method of transportation- bike, car that's not smart, etc. always a good idea to know your options.

- get a burner phone using cash and save it for a rainy day

- buy nondescript clothes, bags, and hats at a thrift store. I'm talking generic backpacks, rolly bags, baseball hats with ideally no logo, plain clothes and jackets. Stuff that is not easy to identify. Don't wear it unless there is an emergency. Maybe if they have cheap Halloween wigs too. Why not. Also get some generic glasses if you wear glasses and maybe get some even if you dont wear glasses.

-razor and a box of hair dye that's not your color in case you need to change appearance

- have a stock of non perishable, non-electricity requiring food (canned, bars, boxes) and a lot of water that you could eat and drink if there is a natural disaster in your area that knocks out electricity for a while (hurricane, blizzard, etc )

- its not a bad idea to have camping gear and a map of places where you could camp without registering ahead of time. Maybe also a pocketknife, rope, bungy cords and tarps in case you need to make a waterproof improvised structure if you are camping in rain

If it's possible to get extra of lifesaving meds so you have a supply that could last you in case you had to leave at a moment's notice.

-have a first aid kit. Include big bandages, sunscreen, bug repellent, sterile saline, menstrual supplies, allergy meds, Vaseline, a disinfectant like iodine, and maybe rubbing alcohol to sterilize things.

In general you should have an emergency kit that includes a flashlight and candles in case electricity goes out or in case you are staying somewhere without electricity.

I know that a lot of these take money, and a lot of people in the US don't have money, so don't get discouraged if these aren't all possible. Just do what you can. Maybe join together with friends and neighbors and see if you can communally have stuff like a first aid kit and candles for emergencies, etc

Spread it around and add your own. Keep each other safe. I'm not an expert just a person with anxiety

Look up ways you can navigate extreme weather in an emergency or without electricity for example there are ways to handle cold if you have no heat source like a terracotta pot and candle method or having a tent indoors. Look up best practices for extreme heat. If you live in an area with fires, build yourself an air purifier with a fan and filter.

Look up ways that the police used to try to track the UHC shooter and Luigi Mangione and learn from that.

[wax-the-sky]

sky cotl rant! (part one?)

I hate event tickets! I hate the event ticket light even more. it takes the same amount of logins to get those 40-60 tickets, the same amount of effort as a ts capes do.

I have an idea. Make the items, on the year of their introduction, at least half the usual price. If a ts cape costs you 75 (85 with nodes) candles, make it 37c per cape or pants, 20c per masks and hair, 15c or less for accessories and shoes and such. This makes it more affordable during a 10 or so days long event.

Next. Remove the spell nodes from the spirit trees. Or lower their price to 1c.

I like the new quests, but one seasonal candle is low for the extended amount of time needed for their completion.

"But veterans have nothing to spend their candles on, if you make things cheaper." No. They stopped playing, because collecting cosmetics is the only thing that one can do in this game. If you can't play piano, there is nothing to do in this game. If you have friends in this game, you've probably already shared your Discord or Tumblr or other social media or messaging app. There is no reason to use Sky as a chat app.

They want us to spend more time in game. Then why remove the afk grinding? Afk or not should not make a difference.

(Yeah. I'm so exhausted. Will I quit? No. Their tactics are unfortunately working on me. I want the pants from the next season. I will definitely play less. I just bought Portal2 and can't wait to finally play it myself. I remember the story, but I don't remember every chamber solution by memory. That's what makes it worth playing. Not to mention the community made content and co-op mode. That is a game worth it's price, and I got it on a massive discount.)

Back to Sky. The in app purchase cosmetics. Yeah, I know that they are optional. You don't have to buy them. Still, a pair of virtual shoes shouldn't cost more than real shoes. I could afford two pairs of shoes, if I search well. Even with the price inflation. They can keep the season pass in the game. Just make the pass vs non-pass item distribution bit more fair. And maybe cheaper pass?

Seasons. I know that the items in the season are cheaper than ts. Getting the candles for it takes longer. It's nullified (to me). You will tell me, "You don't have to get everything," and I will answer, "The item that I like is locked behind a paywall." To make the season pass worth it's price, you are, once again, forced to farm seasonal candles every day. I don't have problems with season ultimates, or time limited availability in general. I like having a rare trophy, which I got by being in the right place at the right time. Something which not everyone can get, given enough time. (Not in my Sims4 game tho. That one is supposed to be a single player sandbox. Damn you EA. Even if they patch it in the game later, why do the battle pass thing at all?)

I can't remember more stuff right now. Not mentioning bugs, those shouldn't be present there. And Sky should add something which will make it more into a proper video game. Social hangouts are dead. Kids who used to play them grew up, (or moved to WebFishing).

[thelastbicorn]

The Metaphor: Re Fantazio hype train isn’t quite chugging at full speed yet, so I thought I might share some of my theories regarding the plot: Specifically: who is the *real* villain? The Big Bad? The final boss? I can identify a few candidates, who I’ll list in order of increasing likelihood (in my opinion).

1. Louis - This is the obvious one. Too obvious, methinks. I honestly think this guy is going to turn out to be an anti-villain/hero in the end. We’re probably still going to have a big climactic battle with him (bonus points if he has an archetype), but it won’t be the final battle. I predict that he will be defeated, die staring into the Protagonist’s eyes as they realize they weren’t so different after all, and then...the Prince’s curse doesn’t wear off. Uh-oh. We did exactly what another bad guy wanted us to do. Fuck. Who is that nefarious villain, you ask? Read on...

2. More - I’m not sure I trust this guy. We know he’s a prisoner in Akademia. For what? Writing a book that the powers that be didn’t like? Maybe. Or perhaps there’s another reason that he’s not telling us? I dunno. I might just be having P5 flashbacks. (They wouldn’t pull that twist AGAIN, would they?)

3. Forden - This is the “other bad guy” I was talking about. The game seems to be setting him and Louis up as foils and rivals for the throne, and while we’re being led to believe that the latter is the more dangerous/evil one, I don’t buy it. I seriously wonder if Louis is really the one responsible for the Prince’s curse. We see the masked figure cast the spell, but how do we know it’s Louis? If Forden wants the throne himself, he would have just as much reason to want the King’s only heir dead. As the leader of the Sanctist Church, he’s already seen as a de facto leader, and he starts the election in the #1 position anyway. He probably wouldn’t have killed the King with his own hands like Louis did, but as a Rhoag (with their long lifespans), he could afford to play the waiting game once the Prince was out of the picture. I’m rambling now, but you get the picture. This guy is potentially just as villainous as Louis, if not more so.

4. Hythlodaeus V aka the late King aka the Big Giant Floating Head of Doom - Yes, I’m serious. I mean, just look at him/it! That thing is just screaming Final Boss. Hell, it could be a final dungeon in itself, like Sin in Final Fantasy X. It’s present in the battle UI from the moment it appears. Why? Because it’s watching you. It’s watching *everyone*. In-game they mention a “royal magic” that only the King can wield, which isn’t described in detail but is said to be a deterrent to invasion. That sounds pretty damn powerful, whether it’s defensive or offensive in nature. It sort of seems like it has a will of its own, activating after the King’s death right in the middle of his funeral. The election “seems” a tad fishy to me too. Sure, it seems progressive for a high fantasy setting, but consider this: What if the purpose of the election isn’t necessarily to find a new ruler for the kingdom, but for finding the royal magic a new *host*?

Honorable Mention: “Scheming Man” - As shown in the latest preview, this character appears in the beginning, breaking the fourth wall to ask the player for their name. So...what exactly are they scheming, anyway? If they can perceive our world, then they could easily know some things that no one else in-universe does. That already makes them more dangerous, potentially. There’s also the possibility that it’s someone we know already. It could be More; I need to listen to their voices again. If it is More, then he belongs at the top of the potential villain list. If not, then he stays where he already is. This is why this entry is off to the side. I don’t know if he’s somebody we’ve seen or not.

In any case, I’ve talked enough. I can’t wait until next month, when all of my predictions get proven completely and utterly wrong. I’m honestly hoping for some kind of mind-bending twist at the end of the second act, but only time will tell.

[charcoalhawk]

Could you not have waited five minutes?

At the end of the day, the thing that pissed Danny off the most was that this wasn’t even his bank.

All he came in here for was a proof of income statement so he could officially buy the apartment he had been looking at. It hadn’t been the best place he visited during his apartment search, but it was within his price range, near his job, and it was a place he could afford to live on his own.

Or, Danny tries to stop a bank robbery.

Third fic for the 2023 Phic Phight, prompt from @wingedflight: Danny gets caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Can he diffuse the situation without revealing his powers?

At the end of the day, the thing that pissed Danny off the most was that this wasn’t even his bank.

All he came in here for was a proof of income statement so he could officially buy the apartment he had been looking at. It hadn’t been the best place he visited during his apartment search, but it was within his price range, near his job, and it was a place he could afford to live on his own.

He needed that proof of income today. Tomorrow was the weekend, and the main office at the complex he was looking at only worked on the weekdays.

He had actually meant to go yesterday, but he had needed to stay late at work and by the time he got off and was able to drive over it had been closed.

He might have been able to get there if he had flown, but unfortunately he’d had too many close calls to want to flagrantly display his powers now that he was living on his own. Fly around Amity? Everyone was too used to weird shit there, as long as you didn’t acknowledge it was weird no one gave you a second look.

But now, he didn’t have the protection of his parents' incompetence nor the safety of the Zone to flee to. So he was trying to only use his powers in situations where there was no other choice, at least as long as he was living in this big city.

Danny had been next in line. If these clowns had been five minutes slower he could have gotten in and out without dealing with this bullshit.

But then there’s the sound of glass shattering as three people bulrush the small lobby with these ridiculous masks that remind Danny of those creepy Anime face masks Sam got from Hot Topic once.

“Everybody on the ground! If I see even one phone none of you are making it out of here alive!”

(…Would Clockwork let him hop back half an hour so he didn’t spend those ten minutes commiserating with Jazz on the phone about moving so far away? It had felt so good to vent to his sister about why he needed to be out of Amity for at least a few months, but maybe he should have saved it for tomorrow night when they were going to meet up and plan how they were going to move him without their parents noticing.

Nah. The ghost already had so much on their plate. Besides, Clocky usually showed up on his own time when things were dire enough. So, at least he was reasonably certain this was not a timeline-destroying event.)

Everyone hits the ground hard, he sees one kid’s stuffed animal fly from her hands as her mom drags her to the floor and hunches over her like a human shield. The three robbers disperse around the room, with one guy standing near the one door while the other two move towards the tellers.

As the two near him Danny fights the instinct to glance at them as they pass. The smallest of the bunch stops right next to Danny as the last guy waltz’s behind the tellers desks to where they had dropped to.

Now, most of Danny’s knowledge of bank robberies came from action movies, so he had a very poor grasp of how these things were supposed to go. Should he stay lying down with the others? Does he call the robber’s bluff and hope they’ll leave in shame after getting told off by a barely legal adult?

Does he turn intangible and escape outside? He’s not a hero here, he’s just a 19 year old kid who needs a shitty proof of income statement to move into this shitty apartment miles and miles away from his town and his friends.

Well, he can’t just leave now that he’s here, turning intangible would mean leaving these people on their own when there was something there he could have done.

He knows now he can’t be everywhere at once, the entire world is not resting on his shoulders. But he is here, now. He can help the people around him and do his best to make sure everyone walks out of her alive.

There’s three robbers, one that's around Danny’s height, one that couldn’t be more then five foot even, and one who towered over them like a dollar tree Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The robbers had entered just after two, which Danny knows from the past half hour was when all the tellers finally got back from their lunch break. A fact that was not posted anywhere beyond inside the bank itself. Meaning they had likely scoped the place out beforehand.

But why later in the day? Why when they know the line will be longest from people being forced to wait for the tellers to return. Why not come earlier in the day when there was less potential collateral?

But then he remembered the big truck that had been pulling out of the parking lot just as he arrived. They had waited until now because before two the bank was working with cash from the previous day, but now they had a whole lot of new cash inside. And depending on how fast they could smuggle it the chance of the stolen cash being traced back to them would be marginally less.

Danny thinks about what he would have done had this taken place in Amity Park.

Amity was a cash heavy town, so he knows in years previous they had probably dealt with their fair share of bank robbers. But nowadays? If someone had been stupid enough to try that in his town the teller would probably have just laughed at the guy and told them they were better off trying to rob the mayor’s house.

All this was avoiding the big question though- should he risk going ghost and have this track back to the GIW, or try this the old fashioned human way and hopefully not get shot?

Three people were not a lot to deal with, but the big guy did give him some concerns.

And of course, he’s used to ecto weapons or fists, not guns.

He subtly glanced up at the robber standing next to him. They seemed to be surveying the people huddling on the floor, hands curled around his weapon.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence as the third robber moves into the back with the teller, but then a sound pierces the air that sends Danny’s heart down to the basement.

The kid has started to cry. Great heaving sobs as she huddles into her mother’s chest.

“Shut that thing up or I'll shut it up for you.” The big guy snarled from his place by the door, raising his gun slightly to make his point abundantly clear.

Fuck. These people were serious.

The mother is furiously trying to shush her kid, but she’s old enough to have understood the threat, and it seems nothing can calm her down.

The guy standing next to Danny seems to shift nervously, which at least tells him these guys aren’t all on the same page.

Maybe… he hasn’t tried partially possessing someone before, not enough to overshadow, but just enough to get them to say something they might not otherwise. He fears obvious possession might make things worse, and the last thing he needs is to give these assholes a reason to attack.

As subtle as he can he touches his fingers to the closest boot of the gut still standing next to him.

He tries to push his core out, not into creating a double but just an impression of himself over to try and nudge the guy’s thoughts.

We don’t need to hurt these people, we don’t need to hurt these people, we don’t need to hurt-

“Hey, knock it off. We get the cash and we get out, no need to complicate things by adding a body count to this.”

“Fuck off.” Both of their attentions are focused on the kid and her mom, with the big guy growing visibly more aggravated as the crying continues.

“Dude, just watch the door, don’t let one brat’s whining ruin it for us. After we pull this off you can move out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere and they’re won’t be any people, let alone kids, for miles.”

“Screw that, I’m moving to a goddam island, get me a lifelong tropical vacation for all the shit I’ve had to put up with.”

Good, good. The conversation moves away from people around them, towards all the things they’re going to buy with the money, and venting on all that they’ve had to deal with before this.

Thank the ancients, these guys are talkative. He can still see the big guy glance over at the crying kid every minute or so. Meaning he has to keep influencing shorty here to keep him distracted.

By Danny’s estimation it’s been about ten minutes since the three entered, meaning hopefully if the teller is cooperating these guys should be out of here in the next few minutes. The last guy had been carrying at least five big bags, so hopefully they’ll get what they want and Danny can leave and find another bank to get his income statement from.

“Hal better be back soon, we’re cutting it too close.” The smaller man shifts, forcing Danny to ty andshift along with him.

“He knows what he’s doing, Judy stick to the plan and- What the fuck! His eyes are fucking glowing, what the shit!”

Both guys are suddenly staring at him, and in that moment Danny remembers Jazz telling him that even when he looks human his eyes will glow an unnatural green when he has to use his powers.

At the time he had brushed the remark off, because even if someone noticed he could waive it off by saying one of his parents' inventions had backfired on him.

Not so now.

In the moment it’s taken him to realize what’s happened both robbers have their guns aimed at him, and as their eyes meet he can see panic overtake both of them as they go scrambling back a step.

Before he can try to explain, to try and diffuse the situation, before his core can even start pumping enough to give him the adrenaline he needs-

The guy is slamming his finger down on the trigger, and-

Oh.

Oh.

Getting shot is painful.

[themculibrary]

Peter/Flash Masterlist

A Late-Night Knock On A Window (ao3) - orphan_account T, 1k

Summary: It's the middle of the night, and Flash is rudely awoken by a sharp knock on his window. He suspects it could be a million things: A bird, a tree branch, maybe even those kids who love to torment him simply because of his family's wealth.

The last thing he expects, however, is to see Spider-Man perched outside his window. Spider-Man, who seems to be moving a tad sluggishly. Spider-Man, who's injured.

Suddenly, Flash is wide awake.

beautiful boy (darling boy) (ao3) - DlBELLA G, 1k

Summary: Though the two have never been too close, Peter dyes Flash’s hair.

Big Fun (ao3) -ahsokaa ned/mj, peter/flash T, 1k

Summary: A party at Flash's leads to some startling discoveries.

caught in the middle (ao3) - thesemovingparts peter/flash, peter/gwen T, 34k

Summary: “You know,” he says seriously, “this is how a lotta boys ask their girls to go steady…”

“Oh, shut up,” Flash shoves gently at Peter’s shoulder.

“Are you asking me to go steady, Thompson?” Peter smirks, pulling on the jacket as he does, slipping his mask over the back of his skull like a beanie. “You wanna take me to the sock hop?”

-

OR: Growing up on stolen time.

Do You Just Love The Pain? (ao3) - Anonymous E, 4k

Summary: Upon making a new discovery about the resident golden boy, Peter Parker, Flash takes immediate advantage.

dreaming of me (dream better dreams) (ao3) - thompsborn T, 2k

Summary: Someone is at his window.

Flash gets to his feet, not nearly as wary as he should be, because there’s only one person who could be there.

dreaming of you when i'm alone (ao3) - queercarlgrimes T, 3k

Summary: waiting at his window each night, flash felt vaguely like princesses in a tower, waiting for a knight in shining silver armor.

Expect the Unexpected (ao3) - hchollym2 E, 2k

Summary: Peter was not expecting to hook up with Flash as Spider-Man, and he definitely wasn't expecting Flash to call out his real name.

gravity (ao3) - mcabre G, 1k

Summary: Peter thinks about telling Mr. Stark and MJ too. He doesn’t know why he hesitates - Ned was always going to be the hardest. While Flash doesn’t hover around Peter much at school, he gets the sense that it’s still enough for MJ to pick it up. Peter used to be a more tactile person; May always greeted him with a tight hug, said goodnight with a kiss even when he got older, and loved to stroll arm-in-arm with him at the mall.

Peter’s missed that. Flash can either tell, or he misses a gentle touch from his own home experience as well. Sometimes, when they’re both feeling a little antsy, they’ll link hands under a desk in the library, or Flash will gently rest a palm on Peter’s knee at lunch where anyone could really see.

High Stars (ao3) - Anonymous G, 1k

Summary: The Yule Ball is coming and Peter knows exactly who he is going to invite.

Kissing 101 (ao3) - PeterBenjaminParkour T, 4k

Summary: When the school finds out about Peter and MJ's break up, rumors start circling, one in particular bothering Peter more than the others. Peter wonders if the rumor about him being a bad kisser may have come from MJ. Flash sees this and takes advantage of Peter's low self esteem and broken heart by offering to 'help him'.

Party Favours (ao3) - AlissaShawWrites (A_S_Writes) G, 3k

Summary: Flash Thompson hosts the final house party he would ever have as a high school student before moving up to the big leagues of university. He invites everyone including nerdy little Peter Parker and his much cooler friend; Spiderman. He gets a lot more than he bargains for.

ready now (ao3) - DlBELLA G, 1k

Summary: Flash comes over to Peter’s apartment to spend Valentine’s Day with him.

Rooftop Conversations (ao3) - false_heteros G, 2k

Summary: Flash Thompson was a spoiled kid.

He knew he was spoiled. With his rich cars and big house. He could buy anything he wants, and he does. Flash doesn’t stare longingly at things in hope to save enough to afford them. He just pulls out his dad's credit card and gets the shit he wants.

He also knows he’s alone. No one gives a shit about him. In the end why should they? Flash is just the jerk from science class who doesn’t know when to stop.

So High School (Pretty Parker) (ao3) - PeterBenjaminParkour E, 6k

Summary: After years of bullying Flash's behavior takes a quick turn. Months of relentless flirting and pet names later and Flash is inviting Peter to prom. Peter doesn't know what to expect but asks himself 'why not' and says yes. What he gets is far more than he anticipated in the best of ways.

stone (ao3) - DlBELLA G, 1k

Summary: Flash Thompson trusts Peter Parker more than anything. It’s a bit cheesy.

Stuck On The Spider's Web (ao3) - Pacificent (Metamorphin) M, 1k

Summary: Flash Thompson’s life changes for worse when the pipsqueak he usually fucks with hits a secondary growth spurt in the form of super powers. Since it’s too much to ask that the only thing Peter Parker will want from him is an apology, Flash decides to avoid further conflict by becoming a good guy himself. It’s only an added bonus that Spider Man (without the hyphen) avoids SHIELD agents like the plague.

Or so he thought.

take it from the top (ao3) - T, 22k

Summary: “What the fuck,” he says flatly as Peter’s eyes go wide and his body stills. “What the-- fuck.”

“You can see me,” Peter balks, Flash getting to his feet now, looking as though he’s trying to look ready for a fight. “You can-- you can hear me.”

“You can see me,” Flash points a finger at him accusingly, shock and confusion to it more than actual anger. “Peter fucking Parker, what the fuck.”

*

OR: Peter Parker dies on the homeworld of Titans. And then he wakes up.

What I Like About You (ao3) - Inky_Blackheart T, 15k

Summary: It turns out, Flash realizes, that there's a lot to like about Peter Parker.

Willing to Wait For You (ao3) - Dwoality G, 1k

Summary: Flash feels guilty at making Peter hide their relationship from his aunt and friends. Peter comforts him. That's it.

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 19.7.24

Dream 1: I was in a classroom and sitting at a desk with ED (a co-worker/friend from 5 years ago). We got along really well, we were chatting and mucking around as class was happening. We had one of those puzzle and game books and were working through the pages to pass the time. One of the most satisfying games was a matching-the-clue-to-a-word game and eventually the words we guess right would spell a sentence. I found it quite fun, but mostly because I was with ED. We talked to the students around us and as they did other things. There didn't seem to be any teacher around. I started talking to a girl about how I thought I was neurodivergent. I said, I think I have autism, when I'm masked I'm normal and you can't even tell because I'm very polite but without the mask I can unintentionally come across as rude and abrasive. ED joined the conversation and said, Me too, that's me as well. I then tried to tell her, Omg that's autism! Are you also sensitive to light and noise? She wasn't. I got excited because I wanted to label her so we could have more in common or some misplaced sense of 'help' where I thought it would benefit her to be aware of it. But I realised it was pointless and not supposed to be part of her experience, so I dropped it.

Then some guy in the class wanted the puzzle book for himself but we refused to give it to him. Some other girl was speaking on his behalf and kept trying to get to us to hand it over. I said, Why doesn't he go to the shop and buy himself one? She said, Because it's like $50 (I think because now it's a rare/old edition) and he can't afford that. After some fighting the guy ended up taking the book off of us. I didn't understand what he was in it for him since we had already filled out all the puzzles so it's not even going to be fun for him. What was the point? I saw him leaf through the pages. Then we had to move to a different classroom and I entered it alone and chose a place to sit down, thinking that when ED caught up she would sit next to me. But she was already on the other side of the room and told me to come over there.

Dream 2: I was in a house and there was a big gathering of family and friends (no one I recognised). We were celebrating something, maybe it was Christmas. Some kid walked in who I recognised as the actor who plays Luke in Modern Family. He looked like he was in his early teens and then when I blinked, I saw him running around the room looking like he was only 8 years old (just like in the earlier seasons). I said to his friend, Did I see that right? The friend said, Yeah he does that sometimes. When I looked at Luke again, he now looked like a teen and then as he was walking away, back to the 8 year old. He didn't say anything to me, he seemed to think it was funny that he could change forms. Other than that, I remember I was interacting with heaps of people which is unlike me irl. I was really happy to engage with everyone and it was like I was a bit manic, or at least just feeling very free to be myself and soak up the good energy. I seemed to know everyone and everyone I came across, I got along with them easily. The energy was very exciting and suspenseful.

Then in the next scene I am walking the streets of the city on my own, when just before I had been with a great many people. It felt like New Year's Eve. I had on a beautiful shin-length party dress and high heels and I felt great. My feet weren't even hurting, in fact I was barely conscious of even having a body. I knew that it was about 11:20pm, so only around 40 minutes left of the year. While I walked, I suddenly thought about the TG chat and were you guys all were. The feeling was I had been with you guys, but you had moved on to another place or scattered and I wanted to find you guys again. Mort replied to me. I don't know what he said but the energy was like we were old friends. In fact, the feeling that pervaded this part of the dream was exactly the feeling of the three of us chatting last night which happened at around 11:20pm too. Subconsciously, it felt like I was 'waiting' for Mort's birthday (even though consciously I did not care), just like I was waiting for midnight in this dream. There was an excitement that nobody knows what to with, and it's only just registering.

As I walked through the city streets, I came across my mother and her friends. She said something low-vibe in Vietnamese, probably shit about me, but I didn't care, I didn't stop. I continued on. Then my father messaged me saying the nursing home tried to get into contact with him and he didn't know why. In the dream, I had tried to get into contact with them a long time ago asking advice about a particular health problem but they were only just now replying. The message they sent him (instead of to me) was referring to him like wasn't even there or sound of mind/able-bodied, like he was a resident of the nursing home, when he isn't. I kept wondering where everyone was.

Dream 3: I was at work in the back area and a big white fluffy dog came up to me. I was highly affectionate toward it and I was so excited to see it. I was saying cutesy stuff to it and another co-worker who was there too watched me and smiled.

Dream 4: I was in somebody else's body and I had just realised. It was a female body. I felt how it was to have someone else's genitalia which disgusted me for a millisecond but mostly I was just shocked to realise I had a human body at all. It's like I hadn't realised I was in a body but I began to recognise that it had been me all along. I then came to realise that I had in fact swapped bodies with anyone at all, it's that I had gone through life unaware of having a body and the strange feeling overtook me just now. It think this dream is about me perceiving the NPC body as foreign.

[static-brained]

Winter / Christmas Headcanons w/ Some Creeps <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

For context, I have always headcanoned that these three live together. Liu bought a house somewhere along a dirt road through the woods that's close enough to nearby cities and towns, but far enough to be considered difficult to find. Jeff in with Liu about a year after they reunited, and he brought Ben with him just because they're close friends. It just makes sense in my brain, bear with me here.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✎ Ben Drowned

Absolutely ECSTATIC when Thanksgiving is over. He's very much one of those people who will put up a Christmas tree the night after Thanksgiving.

Always has complete creative control over the Christmas tree. Anyone else who wants to chip in has to ask.

Invites anyone and everyone to outings with him (ex. ice skating, going to see The Nutcracker, window shopping to see Christmas decorations), but gets denied a lot and reminded that his friends don't have what you'd call "regular" appearances. Neither does he, but he can usually get away with it if he wears sunglasses and a mask.

Can't afford buying presents for everyone, but he makes some very.. "abstract" crayon drawings for everyone each year.

Will walk around EVERYWHERE wrapped up in a blanket for all of winter.

Normally wakes up Jeff immediately on Christmas morning because he's the easiest to access where they live.

Sleeps in the living room waiting for Santa sometimes. He knows he's not real, but that doesn't stop him from leaving out milk and cookies and writing Christmas lists.

His lists normally include the same thing each year (he's determined to get the other two games in the Legend of Zelda child era timeline)

Ben loves anytime it snows, whether it's very little or too much. He bundles up (perhaps too much) and wears socks on his hands as gloves while he makes snowballs. Snowballs are his favorite part.

He took a snowball inside and threw it at Jeff when he was least expecting it. He got chased around the house for that one, he thought Jeff was out for blood. (Now Jeff puts up a "No snow allowed zone" sign on the door every winter now)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✎ Homicidal Liu / Sully

Liu's okay with Christmas. It's not his favorite because he gets cold easily and he very much doesn't appreciate going outside during the winter. Christmastime is one of the times of year that he is the most irrationally stressed, though. Maybe because it's so close to his birthday.

Liu normally goes out to buy gifts for as many of his friends as he possibly can. He prides himself in being able to remember peoples' interests and then get them presents that'll put smiles on their faces.

Liu's especially close to Jeff around Christmastime. He doesn't particularly know why, but he feels the most safe and comfortable around Jeff, so he will trail behind him for most of December.

Sully knows why Liu's stressed during Christmas (a lot of it is passive influence from him, himself), but he doesn't ever say it out loud.

Sully is more violently active during the holidays, always up to no good and constantly at mental war with Liu.

Sometimes Liu will sit in front of the fireplace and stare into it while talking to Sully out loud. (Ben once intruded on it and left very confused)

On occasion, when he sees Ben playing outside in the snow alone, Liu will come outside with him and have a snowball fight or make snowmen with him.

Liu is normally the one to put the presents under the tree. If someone else is doing it because they all decided to get together for Christmas, he insists on helping wrap, hide, and place presents.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✎ Jeff the Killer

He couldn't give two shits about Christmas.

Hates the cold. He hates anything having to do with it too.

Every time Ben wakes him up, he argues for at least eight minutes before reluctantly getting up and following Ben to watch him open presents. (He's actually half asleep the whole time)

Knows nothing about any of the holidays taking place around this time of year. Really doesn't know anything about holidays in general.

Doesn't mind that Liu follows him around, but he does mind when Sully starts trying to attack him at random intervals throughout the day because he can't tell what's Liu and what's Sully.

He wears long-sleeved shirts under his hoodie during wintertime, and he sometimes wears leggings under his baggier jeans if it's especially cold and he's forced to go outside. He would kill anyone who dared to mention that he even owns leggings, though.

If Ben and Liu have company over for Christmas (ex. Masky, Hoodie, Eyeless Jack), Jeff locks himself in his room and refuses to come out.

He's especially antisocial during winter.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It's 5 AM rn and not even Christmas anymore, this is the content you're getting

[lokislastlove]

Discipline or Regret (Dark!Thor x Reader)

Summary: You attract the attention of one very determined football player.

Warnings: Dubcon, Dom Thor, bondage, smut, daddy kink 😬

Note: This was supposed to be a drabble!!! @queenoftheworldisdead is to blame for this filth. I hope it satisfies your Thor thirst a bit… I’d certainly let him satisfy mine. My first time really going in on the daddy thing. 😬 hope I didn’t ruin it. 💕

🏈

Months of overtime and busting your ass and what did it get you? Well, you had hoped it would get you a promotion, a raise, or hell even just a nice bonus. Instead your boss gifts you with a envelope and two tickets to an Avengers game tomorrow.

You hated football, and how the hell are you going to find someone to go with you with less than 24 hours notice?

Your boss could afford pricey front row season tickets for himself - though he hardly ever goes, always complaining about the cold weather – but can’t afford to give you a modest bonus? Such an asshole.

“He actually gave you a bonus?” Lindsey, the bosses secretary, asks in awe as she eyes the envelope in your hands. “Not that you don’t deserve it, because of course you do! I’ve just never seen him do that for anyone.”

“Oh yeah, a super amazing bonus,” you scoff sardonically, tossing the tickets on her desk.

She opens the envelope and grimaces, “ugh and everyone knows you hate football.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe I can try to sell them last minute?”

A smile grows on her face and she bats her lashes sweetly, “or… I could pay you for one of the seats and you can go with me! It’s a win/win! You get some cash and an awesome girl date with your office bestie and I get to ogle Bucky Barnes ass up close in person!”

You laugh and consider her offer, still a bit hesitant, “eh – I don’t know.”

“I’ll buy all the drinks! We can just chat and yell at all the hot guys! Maybe flirt a bit? Seriously, this is the ultimate sausage fest. Come on, I promise it will be fun!”

It’s been a while since you’ve done anything on your weekends besides shop for groceries and binge Netflix, so you agree and arrange to carpool the next day.

—

“Here they come!” Lindsey squeals as the home team comes jogging onto the field.

Her excitement is contagious and you find yourself cheering along, or it could be the cocktails kicking in.

“Nice ass number 55!” Your friend screams without shame, waving and laughing loudly when the player turns to look at her with a smirk.

You stifle your giggles and slap her arm, “oh my god. You’re cat calling now?”

“What? They love it. Watch…” she turns away from you with a wicked grin and searches the sideline for a player close enough to hear her.

You try to tug on her shirt, “no no. Shhh. Don’t, Lindsey”

“Hey! Thor! My friend thinks your hot!” she yells drunkenly, making the people around you whoop and laugh.

You laugh and roll your eyes, shaking your head at her antics until you see an absolute beast of a man turn and fix his attention on Lindsey. He is massive, bulging biceps flexing beneath the tight jersey and pads. His shirt rides up, showing off his ripped core and defined pelvic muscles that draw your eye to his crotch no matter how hard you try to resist. You gulp as he removes his helmet and brushes back his long blond locks, revealing the amused smirk adorning his smooth square jaw.

His attention shifts from her to you, and you feel your face burn with embarrassment as he bites his lip and gives you ‘the nod’, the one cocky men give when they see something they’d like to fuck. He wiggles his fingers at you when you stare back at him in horror, too shocked to think, let alone return any sign of recognition.

He chuckles and taps the shoulder of the player next to him, whispering something in his ear before pointing at you. The other player turns to peek over his shoulder at you, his long black hair masking most of his face, but you see him laugh and shake his head good-naturedly before turning back to watch the field. Thor however let’s his eyes cling to you until you sink so low in your chair you are practically laying in it, using your hands to hide your face.

“Oh my god, now he’s staring at us,” you hiss as your friend continues to wave and try to get him to come over to her.

“She’s single!” You hear Lindsey yell across the field, a few laughs erupting around you.

You swat at her leg as she leans over the metal barrier, trying to get her to stop, “Lindsey!”

“She’s a little shy, but she really wants to see your huge di-” She giggles as you pull her back into her chair and slap your hand over her mouth.

“Hey, what the fuck. I did not agree to come with you so you could embarrass me,” you chide through angry whispers.

“I’m not embarrassing you! I’m trying to hook you up with one of the hottest men on the team! I mean, he’s no Bucky, but you have to admit he’s easy on the eyes.”

“Oh my god, girl. Stop before he sends Security over to drag us out for sexual harassment,” you warn, sneaking a look over the railing at the man still laughing and watching you.

The crowd erupts in boos and groans and someone hits Thors shoulder to get his attention. He brings his hand to his mouth and blows you a kiss then runs out onto the field. You watch him the whole time, bewitched by his graceful run, his thick thighs in those tight pants and the way his golden hair peeks out the back of the helmet. The perfect stillness of his imposing form as he squats on the line, muscles trembling in anticipation.

Even from the sideline you hear his intimidating growl as the ball is hiked and he rushes the offensive line, easily pushing the colossal men out of the way. The opposing quarterback falters and tries to throw the ball but Thor leaps into the air in an impressive show of athleticism and spikes the ball to the ground, ending the play.

“Looks like he’s showing off for you,” Lindsey giggles, elbowing you playfully.

“You mean he doesn’t always try to beat the other team?” you sass.

Energized by his last play Thor seems to vibrate on the line, ready to explode the moment the ball moves. You can see the offense twitch and eye each other as Thor trash talks them. Another “hike” and Thor blasts through the wall of players, knocking two men on their ass on his way to tackle the quarterback to the ground. The ball comes loose and he scrambles to pick it up and runs it into the endzone for an epic opening touchdown.

The crowd booms it’s applause, screaming and cheering at the turn of events. AC/DCs song “Thunderstruck” blasts over the speakers and fans start to chant “thunder” while Thor dances in the end zone. Holding the ball in one hand he points it to you with a cheeky wink and runs back to the sideline as the music fades and the crowd settles.

“Yeah, he’s totally not showing off for you,” Lindsey teases.

—

By the end of the game you can no longer deny your friends jokes. Thor can’t seem to help himself, he sticks close to your end of the sideline when he’s not on the field, stealing glances and making faces at you. You try to hide your discomfort, he’s not your usual type, cocky, confident, and a showoff. But it’s hard to complain about a beautiful man giving you such attention.

As the game is called, another crushing victory for the home team, you watch in shock as the beefy defender comes bounding toward you, sweaty and beaming. You pause as you pack up your things and Lindsey squeals in excitement as he nears.

“Hey,” his startling deep voice rings through the rumble of the audience as they flee their seats.

“Hi!” Lindsey squeaks, bouncing excitedly. “Big fan!”

His rich chuckle bubbles from deep in his chest as he spares her a courteous glance before locking eyes with you.

“I just wanted you to have this before you go,” he says tossing one of his white gloves up to you.

You catch it clumsily, “oh. Uh, thanks. You did great out there today.”

He smirks, eyes dipping below your chin for a moment before flicking back up and cocking his head, “only one of my… many talents, little girl.”

Thankfully he saves you the pain of coming up with a response when he chuckles at your shocked expression and turns to trot back to the locker room, leaving you to scrape your jaw off the floor.

Lindsey snatched the glove from your loose grip and screams in excitement, “oh my god! Look!”

She shakes the glove in front of your face and you notice the black marker written on the palm reading ‘Daddy 555-1046’.

“Ick, ‘daddy’?” You read aloud, disgust dripping from your voice.

“Girl. Text him immediately,” Lindsey orders you seriously and you look at her in disbelief.

“No way am I texting him,” you shake your head and shove the glove into your purse.

“Dude, a professional football player just gave you his number after making eyes at you the whole game. Call. Him.”

“I don’t even like football,” you laugh.

“You don’t have to like football to appreciate that ass.”

—

You spend days staring at the glove, Lindsey badgering you every moment of the day to see if you still had it and suggesting you give it to her.

“Look why does it matter? It wouldn’t be anything serious, he probably does this every game. He’s a total himbo,” you argue one day on your lunch break.

“So? Where the problem? How long has it been since you got laid?” she returns, arching her plucked brow.

You mull over her words, it had been a while. And really what’s the fear? Even if it is a one-night stand, you’d likely get a nice dinner out of it and hopefully some good dick.

“Fine,” you mutter and take the glove from your purse.

“Ha! You’ve kept it on you this whole time? I knew you were a hoe,” she jokes, watching as you punch in his number.

“What do I say? It’s been days he probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Only one way to find out,” she smiles.

—

Your leg bounces nervously in the back of the cab as you near the rich part of town. You stare up in awe at the beautiful building bordering Central Park. You tip the driver and get out, eyeing the doorman as you bite your lip.

“Good evening Miss,” he greets with a tip of his hat. “Here for a visit?”

“Yeah. Um, Thor Odinson gave me this address, he said to be here at seven,” you sputter.

The older man smiles sweetly, wrinkles crinkling at the corner of his eye, “Yes, Miss. He told me to expect you, come on in. Twenty third floor, second door on the left.”

“Oh, thank you,” you smile and cross the threshold.

You hesitate outside his door for a minute before finally knocking softly and adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

“Coming!” you hear his booming voice sound through the door followed by the clatter of pans.

You take in a deep breath as his thundering steps near the door and he pulls it open to greet you with a dashing grin.

“Hi,” you smile, worrying your lower lip as he runs his eyes down your body. You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze and clear your throat.

“Even prettier than I remember,” he flirts and steps aside, welcoming you in.

You swallow at the way his stretched t-shirt hangs loosely across his chest, draping just right to show off the sculpted curves of his pecs and perky nipples. He grabs the dishtowel slung over his shoulder and rushes back to the kitchen, curling a finger over his shoulder to get you to follow.

“Wine?” He asks as you take a seat on one of the island barstools and watch him flit about the kitchen.

“Sure, I’ll drink whatever you got,” you say agreeably as you take a second to look around the lofty space.

The two story loft is open and chic, the white walls keep it bright in contrast to the dark hardwood floors and the eye catching black spiral staircase leading to the master bedroom above. The open floor plan and minimal bold furniture pieces is the perfect design for a bachelor who enjoys entertaining. It’s a much more calm masculine energy than what you expected and pleasantly so.

“This place is amazing,” you compliment as you admire the black granite waterfall countertops.

“Thank you,” you shudder at the rich depth of his voice, “this is the one I’ve kept the longest. Hard to find the perfect apartment in this city. But this one has the view, the location, and the layout.”

“And an adorable doorman,” you add, accepting the glass of wine and eagerly taking a sip.

“Yes!” he exclaims with a laugh. “Bernie is surely a perk.”

“So, I have to ask… do you do that often? Give girls your glove with only ‘daddy’ written on it? It was a bold move, I admit.”

“It worked didn’t it?” He smiles cheekily. “I have always had a talent for spotting a woman with a certain… quality, about them.” His eyes sparkle as they watch the way your throat bobs when you swallow nervously.

“Yeah?” You voice comes out a little higher than expected. “What quality is that?” You narrow your eyes playfully.

He hums in amusement and brings a grape to his lips, popping it in his mouth with a pleased groan, the sound of which causes your thighs to clench together.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he smirks as he sets a bowl of mixed fruit in front of you.

You try to fight the smile, but his flirty confidence is surprisingly effective and you suddenly realize how out of your depth you are. His smile is disarming and he clearly does have a talent for seduction and it makes your heart beat a bit faster.

“Now, dinner is almost done. How about you go pick out some music for us? Anything on the top shelf should work,” he points at the vinyl record player in the living area behind you before turning back to the stove.

You nod and wander over to the low shelf filled with sleeves of records. You recognize most of the artists and are surprised at some of his older taste, maybe he’s not such so basic after all. You pick out some Marvin Gaye, and wander around the large space, admiring the more personal touches to get a feel for him.

You are taken aback by the amount of philanthropic memories, pictures of him building houses, helping at the special Olympics, visiting children in hospitals. Perhaps the one that surprises you most is the image of Thor cutting a ribbon for a youth community center in his name, children clinging to him with big goofy smiles.

His slow footsteps come up behind you and you feel an excited tingle run under your skin. Maybe Lindsey is right, you judged him too quickly, and the more you learn, the more you like him.

“I admit, I did not expect this side of you.”

“I don’t do it for praise,” he returns, “I prefer people save that for my other talents.”

You laugh, “oh yeah? Like what?” You tease as you continue admiring the pictures with interest.

A small gasp escapes when he takes your chin and turns you up to face him. He smiles at the way your eyes seem to glisten instantly and your lips part in surprise. “Let’s start with dinner.”

Just as suddenly he releases you and struts back over to the beautifully arranged dining table. You follow slowly as you temper the heat swelling in your core and the flicker of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

The rest of the dinner is spent fighting your desperation as the sexual tension thickens between you. You eat slowly, unnerved by the way his eyes follow the movement of your mouth as though at any moment he might leap across the table and devour them.

But he doesn’t. He’s remarkably calm and disciplined as he teases you with his dark promises and filthy insinuations with each question he answers.

“I can see that you want to ask about it, so ask little girl,” he smiles as you touch your cheek, fighting the heat gathering there. “Go on, I know it’s been on your mind. Is it why you finally decided to text me.”

“Ok, explain the ‘daddy’ thing,” you yield.

He chuckles and his pupils widen, “it is as much a title as any other. And one that pleases me far more than any other in my life.”

“Ok… so that’s it? You just like girls to call you ‘daddy’ when you’re… when you - you know,” you regret asking, feeling hot under the pressure of the conversation, you probably sound like an idiot.

“Yes and no. I expect them to call me Daddy,” he intones. “Just as I expect them to respect my authority during our sessions. I’m not some horny teenager, I am a dominant and I am only interested in women who are willing to submit to me.”

Your mouth goes dry instantly, all moisture pooling between your legs at his firm rich tone of voice. “Oh,” you squeak trying not to give yourself away.

“So,” he prompts, raising a brow expectantly. “Are you going to praise me on my eye for … quality, or shall we say goodnight?”

Your hips swivel in your chair as your thighs tighten, cunt clenching beneath your dress. You know what you want to say, you want to submit, but you’re nervous to admit it so openly. You nod as you bite your lip and he smiles.

“Try again,” he demands softly. “I need to hear you say it. You can do it. Just say ‘yes daddy’.”

You swallow the huge lump in your throat, eyes unblinking as they lock with his, making you feel small and vulnerable, “y-yes daddy.”

In a flash he is on his feet, the legs of the table screeching along the wood as he pushes it out of the way in his haste to get to you. He scoops you up in his arm and you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively as he carries you to the nearest wall.

Your back meets the cool painted brick wall and you moan as his lips latch to your neck. Your chin lowers when he reaches a particularly ticklish spot and he grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head and tugs your head back giving him more access.

“Oh god,” you gasp as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

“No,” he growls into your neck, nipping you in warning. “Daddy.”

“Yes, daddy,” you acquiesce needing his lips back on you.

He hums his approval and pecks small kisses down your neck, taking a moment to suck along your collarbone. He leans into you, his body and the wall keeping you in place as his other hand grabs your ass. He groans and uses both hands to squeeze your cheeks, spreading them open and pressing them together again over and over. The rush of the cool air and the stretch stimulate your cunt and you groan, knowing you are close to soaking his pants through your drenched panties.

“Please,” you beg, slit grinding into the rough edges of his jeans and whimpering when your clit finds the button, causing your hips swivel faster.

“Beg all you like, little one. I love to ignore it,” he snickers.

He takes his time, teasing you against the wall for what feels like forever, clearly in no rush to go further. You hump his pelvis, his bulge providing the perfect shape to scratch that desperate itch. You moan loudly as you near your peak, so close when he pulls away from the wall, eliminating that delicious friction. He slap your ass harshly and tuts at you as you cling to him.

“You only come when Daddy says,” he hisses in your ear as he walks you over to the stairs.

He keeps you close, his muscles rippling under your fingers as you try to keep from falling with every bounce. But he holds you firm, grip unwavering without a hint of exertion. You take a moment to scold yourself for ever doubting the sex appeal of professional athletes.

The next thing you know he’s forcing you off him and tossing you onto the bed. You bounce and gasp at the rough treatment, something you’ve only ever seen in movies or experienced in your dreams.

“If you’d like those clothes to remain in one piece I suggest taking them off. Now.”

You hurry to get up on your knees and pull the simple cocktail dress off and toss it to the floor. Your shaky fingers fumble with the bra clasp as you watch him reach behind his neck and pull the shirt off one-handed with ease. You get the clasps released but your hand goes limp as you take in every chiseled inch of him. He looks as though he’s been crafted by the gods, not a single flaw. Every muscle perfectly toned, perfectly golden skin in a perfectly proportioned package.

“Holy shit,” you breathe as he pops the button on his jeans and with a tiny wiggle they fall to the floor.

He smirks, eyes glittering in amusement as you sit there frozen in awe. The briefs are the last to go and you audibly moan as he reveals his rigid cock. He’s the most mouth-watering thing you’ve ever seen, and your stomach flutters as you finally achieve the ultimate thirst for a man.

“Is your mouth hanging open like that an invitation? Because I will happy oblige,” he chuckles as he grips his cock and crawls toward you, giving himself a few tight pumps.

Only a few feet away, and you still sit there like a deer in headlights. He squeezes the base of his cock while his other hand grips the back of your neck and he pushes you down.

“Open wide and relax that throat,” he orders softly as he guides you to his tip.

You don’t fight, eager to please him as his slides along your tongue. Your hands drop to support you as you bob up and down, arching your back and sticking out your ass.

The delightful groan he makes vibrates your whole body and you grip the comforter as it makes you clench, cunt already dripping for him. You have always been addicted to the power you feel when taking a man into your mouth, and the louder he gets the higher you feel. You take him as far as you can, unable to swallow his whole length and gagging painfully when you try.

“Shh, it’s ok. That’s a good girl,” he praises as he pets your head and tickles your back, enjoying every curve.

You release him with a pop and he hums as he looks down at you, still waiting his orders on your hands and knees.

“On your back, feet spread at the end of the bed,” he orders and climbs back off the bed.

You hastily remove the bra still dangling from your arm and tear down your panties as you assume the position. He stands at the foot of the bed with a small metal pole with cuffs at each end. He quickly binds your ankles and lefts your legs so that they hang from the bar. He grips it tight and pulls it open wide and wider, the spreader bar keeping you open, unable to close your legs no matter how you badly you want to.

The brief humiliation of being so exposed fades into excitement when he holds the bar with both hands and lifts, as though you were some sexy workout in the gym. Your hips raise off the mattress and you squeak as your ass bounces against his pelvis, barely missing his glistening cock.

“Remember, be good and ask Daddy’s permission to come,” he reminds you as he uses the bar to guide your hanging hips into place and prods your entrance with his velvety tip. Your slick spreads with each attempt coating him generously until he slides in, stretching you wide.

His biceps bulge, veins pressing against his skin as he holds you aloft and begins to thrust his hips into you. The angle is dangerous, his maddeningly large cock painful except for when it presses against your g-spot. You twitch and cry out as he pounds into you without relent. He’s not wild or feral like most men when they try to go rough, he’s got a calm darkness in his eyes, enjoying the way you scream for him.

That string in your abdomen tightens and your eyes roll, arms outstretched against the mattress looking for anything to hold onto while your lower half is manhandled with such disciplined force. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced and without thinking you come with a drawn out groan, legs trembling in their suspended bonds.

He stops and drops the bar before flipping it, your body twisting awkwardly so that your arms are now pinned under your stomach. The thundering slaps filled the room along with your startled screams, the tender flesh of your ass burning with the sting of his angry swats.

“Bad girl,” he growls. “I don’t like when my rules are ignored. Now let’s try that again shall we?”

He reaches under your chin and pulls your head up, straining your neck and arching your back as he turns you to face a shelf on the wall above the bed. You see a small red light beneath a round black round lens and your blood runs cold as you blink at it in horror.

“Now say ‘sorry’ to Daddy and I’ll give you one more chance.”

His grip on your jaw is painful as you struggle in his hold. You want to scream, demand he let you go but as his fingers dig into your flesh, the fear overwhelms you.

“S-sorry Daddy! S-sorry!” You sob and collapse in defeat on the mattress when he lets you go. Tears seep into the comforter as he tugs the bar down, leaving you bent over the edge of the bed with his hands framing your hips.

“I forgive you, baby. I know you can be good for me.” He leans down, the heat of him smothering your back as he kisses your shoulder. “But if you do that again, I’m going to tear that sweet little ass apart,” he whispers in your ear, chuckling at the way you whimper fearfully.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @threeminutesoflife @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @thiskindahotkindamusic @lokiswildheartcantbebroken

[ac3id]

The Artist and His Majesty| 18+

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒿𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎 0 / 5 | fantasy au. 

chapter i , chapter ii

pairings: yandere! emperor! shigaraki x female! reader.

warnings: [series] dubcon, exhibitionism, size difference, degradation, masturbation, bondage, reader is also kind of delusional, death, violence (not on reader). (there are more but i can’t think right now.]

↪ for chapter 0: none !!

summary: you come to the big city in hopes of starting your career as an artist but things take a shocking turn when you’re recruited as the court painter for the royal palace.

↪ for chapter 0: a strange man approaches you, offering to buy your painting to which you oblige. little do you know that it kicks of a series of unfortunate events ending with you being trapped in shigaraki tomura’s clutches forever.

wordcount. 

a/n: finally !! i started this series. high-key inspired by these two dresses in my wardrobe and @ana-list‘s this  drawing ! seriously it’s literally everything. also thank you once again for proof reading this @the-grimm-writer ! 

taglist: @shigaraki-is-my-master, @deathmemeiverse, @n4dhii, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @mstssister, @nereida19, @prince-zukohere [dm to be added/ removed.]

“That’s a beautiful painting,” a rough, scruffy voice calls out, jerking you away from your daydreams. Your grip around the color canvas resting in your arms tightens as you glance behind your shoulder to see a well-built man standing right behind you. He’s tall and a lot older than you, he has short grey hair which falls right before his eyebrows along beautiful, matching grey eyes. A cigar hangs lazily from his lips as he occasionally huffs on it, blowing clouds of smoke out his mouth. He’s dressed in expensive robes, a choice of style only people better off could afford. You can’t help exachaning a covetous glance between his expensive suit and your sloppy, knee-length, light green dress. “Thank you.” you murmur shoving him an appreciative look, hoping he’d leave you alone. When you come to the city to complete your studies in art, you mother, father, family and friends had warned you about men like these. Rich, snobby men who liked to lure in young, naive girls. Whispering praises of how they are the most unique on the planet so they pull their guard down form them to take advantage of the helpless beings. 

“Can I take a better look? It’s the Emperor, is it not? Your painting. ” You hesitate before turning back to him. Not a lot of people had seen the King to be. He lived humbly in his castle, trying his best to not indulge in the affairs of the common people. “ Yes,” you hold up the slightly small canvas (courtesy of you being broke the entire week and not being able to save up to buy a bigger canvas). To even get an idea of Shigaraki Tomura, you had to go through many people. Not a lot of people had seen his face, he had always kept it hidden under a mask. No one knew why he did so but the many conspiracy throes suggested it was something to do with his personal grief.

 You had heard many stories about him. Some made him look like a spoiled brat with a demeaning, ignorant personality who didn’t care for others and as the rumors said: self destructive habits which lead him to tear the skin of his own neck down whenever he got anxious or frustrated. 

Others portrayed him as a strong, confident man and a reliable leader who cared for his comrades. You did not know which one of the two personas brought him your attention but you couldn’t complain. Tomura had caught you under a spell, and despite never meeting him (and knowing full well you never would), you were still ready to sacrifice your life for him. He was your King even before he had taken his crown, to you he looked like a shining bright light ready to enlighten you. To you, he was a god. And as years passed by, he grew from a caterpillar into a cocoon which was ready to burst open as a butterfly into the beautiful, mysterious world. And it was happening today, Prince Tomura Shigaraki’s Coronation ceremony. After the passing of All For One, it was his turn to take the crown and fulfill his duty as the ruler of the nation

 The entire city was busy, bustling with people. Families, friends and everyone in between gathered around the huge castle walls as they waited for the ceremony to begin. They waited patiently, filled with excitement and joy as they waited to catch a glimpse of the new great King. You were among them. You had come down to the centre of the city with your friends, waiting alongside many to catch a glimpse of the new ruler. The painting which nestled in your hand was something you were hoping to sell today, to a shop or anyone who wants to have it. It was a beautiful painting which had taken you several days to complete, and dare you say it, you were quite proud of it. From all the things you had heard about Tomura, you had managed to sketch him decently. Long white, wavy hair reaching till his shoulder, skin white as snow. He sat proudly on his throne wearing a cape with his vermillion eyes peering through your soul. His face was scarcely detailed as you did not have much idea about it but he still looked ethereal. With little scars running both his eyes and a comparatively larger one on his right. Chapped lips with even more scars running over them wildly, he was not conventionally attractive. No one would call him a pretty boy yet there was something more, something alluring which attracted  you to him. His beauty was rare, not in the grasp of many but if it was grasped and held close to the heart, it was hard to let go off. And you found him attractive, very attractive. 

The man took a good look at your painting, examining it carefully and for a second you really thought he had seen the mysterious Prince. “It’s quite similar to him,” he sends you a friendly grin and you notice a tooth from his front missing, leaving an uncomfortable gap. “Have you seen him before?” he asked and you shake your head, no. He gives you an amused expression, “I must say, you are very talented, miss…?” you complete your name with a nervous smile. “And you are?” you ask. 

You realised that you were getting a little too comfortable with the stranger and it could be a really bad decision but you can’t help but give him the benefit of the doubt as he behaves like a gentleman you can find yourself to trust. “Kagero Okuta but I like to go by Giran,” he says with a lop-sided grin. Giran, you’ve heard the name before but cannot recall where and how. It sounds so familiar but you just can’t grasp it, he looked wealthy so you assumed he was a Noble and that made you even more curious as to why he was speaking to you.

 “What are you planning to do with that painting?” he asks, diving a closer look and admiring its features. “I must say, you’ve got it quite accurate but,” you stiffen, your hands growing cold as your heartbeat picks up. You realized your painting must have some complications, drawing a man you had never seen before purely out of your interpretation was a hard and a bold task to do. But to have someone who had actually seen the King for himself pinpoint your mistakes sent a rush of anxiety through your veins.

 “He’s not that bony.” He completes and you gulp nervously, looking down at your painting in disappointment. Your eyes are filled with disappointment,  all of the time and effort you spent making the piece all for it go in vain just because you missed a small detail. Giran notices your remorse and speaks up, “But that’s quite alright. He looked just like that until a while ago,” he hadn’t meant to offend or hurt you. He still believed your painting was the most beautiful thing he had seen all day.

 “What do you mean?” you ponder, giving him a perplexed look. He leans  in closer to you as if to tell a secret, “let’s say the King has been working out behind closed doors.” you blink in confusion. It was a strange thing to say, exactly how well did this man know the Emperor? Who was it that you were talking? 

“Who are you?” you can’t help but question, bewildered by such a character. Giran says nothing. He just stares at you with his lips curled into a snappy smirk, holding his cigar between his lips. He was not going to tell you anything. Without wasting time, he quickly changes the topic. “What are you going to do with that painting?” he repeats, his voice growing impatient.

 “I am planning to sell it,” you feel a bit taken back. The friendly aura which had Giran had now disappeared for a reason you could not conclude. “Sell it? To whom?” the intruding nature of his tone starts to make you uncomfortable, there’s nothing more you want to do other than get far away from him. Yet you still find yourself answering him, “To anyone who wants it.” he hums at your response, his eyes holding a mocking glint. “Wouldn’t you like to give it to the Emperor himself?” you frown, was he mocking you? 

“That’s well...impossible.” you reply, stretching your neck awkwardly. “To you, maybe.” 

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, this man was really testing your patience. A part of you tells you to ignore him and walk away but as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a bag of coins worth much more than you could ever earn in a month, he has you hooked yet again. 

“Hey, let me buy that painting, would yer’?” 

.

..

..

“What is the problem now?” Giran takes a seat around the round table. It was late after the Coronation ceremony and the Royal palace was already facing problems. Giran was disappointed but definitely not surprised. After all, he was their personal problem solver and broker. “It’s not that big of a deal.” A curt and hard reply cut him off.

 “It actually is, Shigaraki Tomura.” a voice speaks, coming from a man dressed in a black suit with a long, flowy robe covering his entire body. He stands taller than the other two men in the as his head is replaced with a wisp of smoke. He was none other than the trusted and talented magician of the Royal family. With eccentric features and an ability to wield strange magic, nobody knew where he came from. There were many rumors about him; that he was once a normal, handsome man cursed by a witch that turned him into a hideous monster or he simply was a ghost. “What is it, Kurogiri?” Giran rephrases his question, directing it to the other man. “We need a new painter,-” 

“Servant.” Shigaraki corrected. He stood in front of the giant windows glancing over his city as his men talked about hiring a new painter for the castle. He couldn’t care less about such tedious tasks, he had his focus set on greater things like expanding his territory, taking back stolen land. 

“What happened to Mr. Kyo?” Giran asked, Shigaraki rolled his eyes at the mention of the name and clicked his tongue, “His Majesty eliminated him.” Giran stops himself from laughing out loud. He was certain once Shigaraki would take over the throne incidents like so would double the instant. But he was expecting it to happen so soon. “And why was that?” 

“He was breathing too loud, like you are right now.” 

A cold silence broke over the room as Giran counted his breath. Kurogiri looked nervously at Shigaraki who still had his back turned to them. The longer the pause grew, the dreadful the atmosphere became. Shigaraki’s threat strung the air loud and clear and Giran was afraid to speak again. “What we are asking for is that-,” Kurogiri started in a calm, slow tone easing the tension in the room. “-we need a new court painter. Do you have any names?” 

The murderous sent in the air magically disappeared as a grin stretched across Giran’s face. 

“Aren’t you in luck?” He says, running a hand through his hair before taking a puff out of his cigar. “Does that mean you know someone?” Kurogiri questioned. Giran hummed, “You see, I met this beautiful painter today. She’s extremely talented and I know for a fact she will love working for the castle.” 

“What’s the name?” growing impatient, Shigaraki asks. “Oh, it was,” Giran pauses for a moment to recall. 

“Ah yes, Y/N L/N.”