#and then this fucking sewer rat of a man started trying to get information on my sex life and asking why i haven't gotten pregnant yet

[returntotheground]

went home for my great aunt's funeral which was already hard enough and then my aunt's shitty fucking husband sexually harassed me after the service. i can't fucking take this anymore i should have killed him right then and there

[itsallmightbitch]

Stitches (Part Two)

Ya’ll, I wasn’t planning on posting this yet but when I actually checked, I realised that if I didn’t- Part Two was going to be over 12,000 words. So I had to split it again. So, you can look forward to a Part Three! I also, sort of, accidentally maybe, wrote a teeny tiny lil’ bit of plot. 

Tagged: @kittygonyan​ @mrsreina​ (If you’d like to be tagged in Part Three, give me a shout!)

Pairing: Villain!AllMight x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Threats of Non-Con (Not made by our boy All Might and not said explicitly though).

Word Count: 6800+

Summary: A phone call makes you question just how the biggest bad in Japan feels about you. You discover just how All Might was injured and things get just a lil’ bit steamy.

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He was gone for over half an hour and you’d spent that time preparing the dressings you’d need for him. The wound was in a semi awkward place- just below the dip of his collarbone, so you’d had to dig out the gauze tape.

All the while, you attempted to calm the rapid, dizzying beat of your heart.

 Those damn breathing exercises that Ivy had taught you were doing jack shit, especially with the feeling of his hands still imprinted firmly on your hips.

 Were you really going to do this tonight?

 It wasn’t as though you hadn’t danced around him for months now, the unyielding pull of his orbit spinning you closer and closer until the inevitable collision. But as you stood on the precipice, feet towing the line and looking into the abyss… there was still some trepidation.

 Was he just doing this to prove that he could get into your pants?

 Where the hell would it even go? He was, at his core, a villain and nothing you could do or say would ever change his nature.

 Not that you would want to. You weren’t here to ‘fix’ him in any other way but physically.

 Yet, despite all of the reservations that swam in your head, you couldn’t deny the chemistry that had always bubbled between you. Especially in those moments that you forgot just who he was and he was just idling around your apartment with you. Those moments made you just as hot as when you saw him pummelling some wannabe hero on TV.

 Making him coffee while he fixed your kitchen sink. Actually… finding out that he could fix a kitchen sink had been jarring enough. Bickering over which movie to watch, when you knew he was going to win like he always did- but arguing with him for the fun of it anyway.

 That day you’d found out that he did a fucking wicked impression of Endeavor and you’d howled with laughter- then caught him looking immensely proud of himself afterwards.

 Even now, the memory of it made your lips quirk in a stupid smile.

 Seeing that side of him made it so easy to separate him from the man the rest of the world saw. They weren’t privy to all the things that made him unique. Would it really be so wrong of you to give in?

 The filthy promise he’d made still rang in your ears.

 Slow, hard and all night long. Your thighs clenched in anticipation.

 Your phone buzzed cheerily on the side table and the coffee you’d made for yourself in his absence sloshed against the side of the mug when you jumped.

 An unknown number usually meant one of two things. Either All Might was calling you to ask how to perform some horrible mutilation on a person without them losing too much blood- or Ivy was calling for a chat.

 Since the former was currently using up all of your hot water- seriously, thirty five minutes now- you correctly guessed that it was the latter. You answered, immediately perking up at the sound of her voice.

 “Babes, is that beefy idiot of yours there? His little henchmen have been tearing apart half of the city trying to find him,” she said, not even bothering with hello. You tutted. Of course he’d just up and vanished without giving anyone a hint that he was okay.

 “Hi Ivy,” you said pointedly and you could almost hear her roll her eyes at your insistence of politeness. “Yeah, he’s here.”

 She grumbled.

 “Ugh, will you please tell him to call off his goons before I have to kill any more of them for disrespecting me,” she said, like murdering henchmen was all too taxing for her. You knew differently. She was probably enjoying the change of pace. You half smiled, shaking your head.

 What exactly was your life? Passing messages between villains like some kind of sentient answering machine.

 “Hold on. He’s in the shower,” you said, escaping the soft light of the living room and heading in the direction of the still -goddamn it- running water. His clothes were piled where you’d told him to leave them and you were oddly touched to find that he’d arranged them in a way that the bloodied parts weren’t on your carpet.

 He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

 Biting your lip, you eventually worked up the courage and knocked on the door. You knew that he was grinning from ear to ear, probably expecting you to barge in and simply toss your panties over your shoulder while you were at it.

 Hmm. There was plenty of time for that later.

 “Did you miss me already, sweet thing? Am I that irresistible?” he said, his tone all deep and buttery and the image of him stark naked and soaking wet stole your voice for a moment. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was taking so long because he was- taking care of himself.

 Your stomach whirled pleasantly at the thought of him stroking a hand along his thick-

 “Hey! Don’t forget to tell him that they have like, zero manners. I’m appalled at how rude they all are. This is no way to treat a lady!”

 Ivy’s irritated voice turned away from the phone for a moment. A crunch and a half-halted scream told you that she was more than handling herself against All Might’s minions.

 You licked your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to picture him behind the damn door again. Otherwise you’d never get out the words you needed to say. You’d get your chance to join him later, when your dumb obligation as his doctor wasn’t coming first.

 “Um, Ivy says your little minions are out of control again. You might want to deal with that, big guy,” you informed him and you heard him swear loudly, a colourful mix of words that would have made a sailor blush.

 The water, at long last, shut off.

 You hadn’t really considered what would come next, despite the fact that he’d clearly left his pants- and by extension- phone right next to where you were standing.

 The door opened and you suddenly had a face full of muscular, soaking wet chest. You barely even noticed his smug expression, too busy trailing your eyes down and focusing with laser like precision on the trail of blond hair that started at his bellybutton and vanished underneath his towel.

 All Might had a fucking happy trail. How had you not noticed it earlier?

 Oh yeah. All the blood.

 You had died. You were dead and buried and this was Heaven and of course your version of Heaven would have a soaking wet, naked super villain in it.  

 Every brain function ceased and all you could register was the heat of the steam billowing out from behind him and the aching urge you now felt to catch the lone water droplet that was rolling down along his abdomen with your tongue.

 It dipped into his bellybutton then out again, before soaking into the towel that he’d slung low around his hips.

 “You know, as much as I’m enjoying your reaction sweetheart,” he rumbled, openly amused by your gaping, idiotic staring. “I do need my phone before I lose any more men to the sewer rat.”

 “I fucking heard that, you jackass!” Ivy screeched and you were brought back to reality, aware that your face was now glowing red.

 He leaned down past you and fished his phone from his pants pocket and you could feel the sweet, water warmed heat of his skin as he passed so close to you. You resisted the urge you suddenly felt to throw your legs over your head.

You didn’t even know if your legs could do that and Ivy might not appreciate having to wait any longer for a reprieve.

 When he straightened up, he grinned at you and it was… different than his usual cocky smiles. This one was toothy and almost soft and his free hand came up to your chin, gripping it much like he had earlier. Except this time, it wasn’t to threaten you.

 It was to bring your lips to his in a nipping, hard kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

 Hnnng.

 “Soon kitten,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip once more playfully. “Don’t forget, this was your bright idea.”

 He winked at you before retreating back into the bathroom. You remained standing on the other side of the door for a long moment, cursing yourself for being so worried about him when you could be splayed out underneath him right now- morals be damned.

 You only remembered that Ivy was still on the line when you heard her voice asking if everything was okay.

 Fuck, it was more than okay. Not long from now, you were going to have that between your legs. More than ever you wished you hadn’t skipped all those yoga classes because this was going to be... challenging. 

Said legs carried you shakily back down the hall and away from the temptation to break the door down while you waved your bra over your head. 

Sexy.

 “He’s um- he’s calling someone now,” you cleared your throat, choosing not to sit on your bloodied couch and instead canting your hip against your dining table. “Sorry Ives. If I’d have known he was AWOL I’d have made him call sooner. I know what those idiots are like…”

 His henchmen were notorious for running riot without him there to rein them in. He was, surprisingly, like seventy three percent of their impulse control. It was a shame he lacked any himself.

 “You know, I’m not even surprised any more,” she tutted. “He could have at least let one of his lackey’s know before he went and squared up against- wait-” Her voice paused just as she reached the bloody good bit and you fought the urge to interrupt. “Maybe he’s been too busy to phone anyone… Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

 Ivy knew what had gone down tonight by the sound of it. But she was also distracted and you knew you would get nowhere without indulging her curiosity first.

 “Oh yeah, he’s been super busy getting a big ass gash on his shoulder stitched up. Not much time for phone calls,” you hedged slyly. Ivy didn’t need to know he’d also been busy with his mouth on your neck while you attempted not to moan like a a porn star. Definitely a detail that could be left out.

 “Not going to lie sweets, I was convinced you were going to say getting a blowjob.”

 “Fucking hell, Ivy.”

 “What!? There’s nothing wrong with getting busy after a life threatening situation. I’m amazed that you both have so much restraint,” she said and despite your irritation over these villains all up in your personal life, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with her out loud. “You said he was all sliced up? Did he tell you how he got it?”

 Interest?

 Piqued.

 “No! He’s being really secretive about it,” you said hurriedly as though Ivy would hang up on you at any second. She wouldn’t but you were far too eager to hear this story and your brain refused to function normally. “Do you know?”

 “I’m not technically supposed to, but well… henchmen talk darling, especially under the threat of pain…”

 “Ivy spill,” you said, dragging the word out into a whine. Ivy loved to tell a tale but you were impatient now. You wanted to hear what had happened before he came out of the shower. Not just because you didn’t want him to catch you snooping in his business but also because there was the promise of fantastic sex to come too.

 “Oh sweets, do I have a story for you,” Ivy squealed gleefully. Your heart beat hard in your chest in anticipation and you hoped that she wouldn’t drag it out too much. “I hope you’re sitting down for this because it’s just, mwah-” she made a kissing noise and you snorted.

 “Ivy, come on. While I’m still young.”

 “Tut tut, there’s no rushing a good thing. Or do you like it fast?” she teased, flirtatiously.

 You rolled your eyes and tutted into the phone, not in the mood to be teased. At least… not by Ivy.

 You checked over your shoulder- in case All Might had snuck up on you or was lurking in the doorway. He had a habit of doing that, just to make you jump. But he was nowhere to be seen, probably still on the phone, berating one of his second in command for their bad behaviour.

 You hoped it was Shigaraki getting a talking to. That guy gave you nothing but bad vibes.

 “So, I take it you remember last week, when you and I dished about that weirdo you treated? You know Hinata Cash?” she said his name almost cautiously as if worried that being too quick would bring back the memories before you would be able to handle them.

 You made a strangled noise that could have been agreement as your brief but memorable encounter with Hinata Cash came rushing back from the deep, dark part of your memories that you’d shoved it into.

 A chill raced along your spine.

 “Are you okay, sweets?” Ivy asked cautiously.

 “M’fine,” you said, clearing your throat. You wouldn’t let the mere mention of the creep make you uncomfortable. Ivy still paused until you reaffirmed that you were okay with talking about him though. “What about him? Is he still being a disturbing son of a bitch?”

 Your bravado was all show. You both knew it, but Ivy continued like she bought into your act.

 “Well, it turns out he was quite the talking point in some circles... Not enough to play with the big boys like your honey bun,” she said, probably giving the phone a shit eating grin. You didn’t even berate her for it and the teasing tone she’d aimed for fell away awkwardly. “But he was doing enough to get himself noticed. He’d started coming in to the Golden Cat on weekends. A few of the girls there told me about him…”

 “All good things, I bet,” you said, rubbing your arm nervously. There was really no reason to feel nervous, not with your door locked and All Might in your bathroom, but that didn’t stop tendrils of unease winding around your neck.

 “He started going by Scissorhands- Ugh, it was tacky if you ask me,” she sniffed primly. Never let anyone tell you that Ivy wasn’t a class act, you thought fondly. Still, the name made your insides twist uncomfortably. From what you’d seen on the snippets of news reports that day- he’d certainly lived up to his chosen name.

 You had never been truly frightened in all the years that you’d been treating criminals. Even during that first meeting with All Might, you had never felt like you were in any immediate danger- so long as you kept your mouth shut and remained respectful.

 But Cash…

 He was the type to cut your throat because he didn’t like the colour of your curtains or some shit.

 His entire visit had deeply unsettled you and set you on edge for days afterwards. Even now, despite the fact that he hadn’t delivered on his ‘promise’, you couldn’t really settle.

 Every movement he’d made that day, every little twitch of his hands had caused your body to recoil and had it not been for the tight hold you had over your Quirk, you might have done more harm than good.

 Thankfully, it had been a straight forward procedure but from the way your body trembled, you’d have thought it was your very first time all over again. He’d picked up on your nerves from the moment he’d sat down, leering whenever you flinched.

 Glass and debris had become embedded directly under his left eye from the bank robbery he’d partaken in, just hours before. It had been on the Channel Five news, which was partly why you were so on edge. His fingers had still been bloody from the security guard he’d literally torn apart.

 Heavy set, with wide shoulders and contrasting sharp features, you knew that had he made a move that day, you wouldn’t have had a chance to fight him off.

 The shaking of your hands had thankfully been negated by your Quirk.

 Precision wasn’t the most amazing Quirk in the world but it was particularly useful in your line of work. Being able to hit your target despite the shaking of your hands had saved you precious time.

 Quick, yet terrified, you’d cleaned up his face and as politely as you could, tried to see him out. But his hand had clamped down on your thigh, too high for comfort and your whole body froze- your eyes staring unseeingly past him.

You couldn’t breathe in anything more than quick, frightened gasps. He seemed to revel in them.

 You felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, seconds before the deadly bite.

 He’d leaned in close, his breath repulsive and sour and you’d thought of a million ways to escape in those few seconds- none of them even remotely useful.

 “I really appreciate this, Doc. It’s hard to find a woman with steady hands like yours...”

He had lifted one of them, examining it. 

“Wonderful quirk. So useful... I can see why All Might likes you so much. I think I quite like you too.”

 You had prepared for the worst. Mentally written your last will and testament and prayed to God that when he was finished with you he would just leave Marco be- the thought of him harming your cat suddenly far more prevalent in your mind than what was going to happen to you. 

Strangely though, he’d simply gotten up from the chair, stroked your cheek as you sat there like a statue and then let himself out. Not before throwing his parting remark over his shoulder, though. The one that had been haunting you all week.

 “I’ll see you again real soon, honey.”

 Naturally, you hadn’t gone after him for the payment he’d skimped out on.

 Hell to the no. Instead, you’d locked your front door, hyperventilated for a good fifteen minutes on your living room floor and then much to your embarrassment… you’d called All Might. 

For the first time ever.

 You had passed the call off as some dumb suggestion that he come over for pizza and a movie, like you were best friends and not potential-fuck-buddies. You hadn’t even had the strength to hide the tremble in your voice, nor the will to throw in any bravado. It had been a brutally honest call- one that you had never wanted to make.

 It was like letting him see the real you. Removing that final barrier between you that might hold you back from feeling anything real. That conversation had changed something, you thought. Something deep.

 “H-Hey! I know I never call like this but... I-I… Could you come over?”

 Your voice had been small and shaky, with you on the verge of tears- even though you would rather die than let them fall over someone so vile.

 There had been a pause on the other end, mid-way through whatever sarcastic thing he’d been about to berate you with.

 “Please?”

 You had added that without even thinking about it, voice catching and the grip of Cash’s hand still burning on your thigh. You had thought, in that silence, that he was going to brush you off. Either that or demand to know what was wrong. Thankfully, he did neither.

 “Ten minutes.”

 The longest ten minutes of your life. He had found you pacing a hole in the floor of your living room and petting the ever-loving bejesus out of Marco- stressed to the max. You’d locked eyes with him and he hadn’t even had to ask if you were glad to see him. Your face said it all.

 He hadn’t asked what had happened and you hadn’t told him… but he’d stayed anyway. A real villain, that one.

 “Sounds about right to me,” you scoffed, tone disgusted at the thought of that… that man. “Ives, I don’t scare easily, you know that... but I know full well what he wanted and it wasn’t a back rub. What does this have to do with why All Might turned up injured?”

 You felt unsettled at having him brought up out of the blue. You’d been quite happy to forget all about him and the way that his gaze had made your skin crawl.

 “Everything. The word should be getting out any minute now, about our dear departed Tim Burton knockoff.”

 You paused, startled and unsure if you’d heard her right.

 “Departed?”

 “Oh, he’s very, very dead darling,” Ivy said lightly, as if she was just telling you the weather for the day.

 The relief that washed over you was momentous and almost made your knees give way, causing you to grip the table for support. He was dead. You were free of the lurking shadow of fear that plagued your days and nights. The one that robbed you of decent sleep because you were jumping at every little noise in your apartment.

 “Is it bad that I just wanna say ‘Oh thank God’?” you replied, breath knocked from you. Ivy laughed. She sounded just as pleased as you felt.

 “You won’t be the only one, I’m sure. He must have put up a halfway decent fight, if it took you that long to stitch up a little old cut,” she said, pointedly as though waiting for you to work things out. She was probably disappointed that she didn’t get to see your reaction when you did.

 Oh. Holy shit.

 “All Might killed him!?” you squeaked, then lowered your voice drastically in case he heard you. “Are you fucking with me right now, Ivy? Because that’s not cool.”

 You didn’t really know how to feel about it, if it was true. You were more than relieved that the looming shadow of Cash was gone forever but regretful that somehow, All Might had found out what you’d tried to keep from him and had gotten himself hurt in the process of doing something about it.

 “It’s true,” she said, confirming it. “You and I both know I hate giving that overrated blowhard any credit… but something had to be done about him. Cash had it coming, either way. There are plenty of girls at the Golden Cat who’ll be glad to see him gone.”

 You swallowed hard. Your silence was more you being concerned over All Might’s well being than over the fact that he had killed a man tonight. He’d killed plenty of people in the time you’d known him.

That wasn’t about to destroy the image of him that you had.

It was more the deep seated worry that always gripped you when he was involved in something dangerous. Usually, you could worry yourself sick over the news broadcast and at least then, if anything happened, you would know.

But tonight, he’d gone out there and gone one on one with a man who could rip people apart from the inside out- and you hadn’t even known. What if he’d never come back? What if he’d died because of you and word would get back to you, weeks down the line that you would never see him again?

Something horrid lodged in your stomach.

 “Won’t he get heat from other villains?” you asked to distract yourself, rubbing the top of Marco’s head as he trotted past- blissfully unaware of your minor breakdown. “Isn’t there some… I dunno… Code of conduct or something? Honour among thieves?”

 Ivy snorted, obviously amused at your blatant lack of knowledge. You would think that someone as deep into the criminal underworld as you were would at least know a little about how things operated. But no. 

You chose to remain blissfully ignorant.

 “Hmm, well here’s the thing. The King makes the rules and All Might, well… as much as I’m loathe to admit it, he wears the crown babes. Who the Hell is going to argue with him?” she asked and you bit your lip, the fear of retaliation lessening.

 It was no secret that he was both feared and respected- enough to keep even the toughest of the tough under his thumb. There wasn’t a Hero or Villain in the world who could realistically take him on, one on one, and win.

 That thought relaxed you and the horrid sensation lessened. It didn’t leave entirely, but it receded enough that you could breathe again.

 “Anyway, to cut a long story short… Cash wasn’t exactly secretive about what he liked to do to girls. He was always running his mouth and tonight, he came in absolutely singing about some pretty little Doctor that he’d fallen head over heels for…” Ivy said sourly, obviously not enjoying this part of the story.

 You enjoyed it even less. It didn’t take a genius to work out just who that Doctor was. Your hope that he’d just been trying to scare you when he threatened to see you again had been futile, apparently and you were suddenly so glad that you’d asked All Might to stay that night.

 “ You’re pretty well known yourself around here, sweets. Did you know that?”

 You hadn’t known, no, but you kept quiet.

 “It didn’t take long for a few of the regulars to work out just who Cash was talking about. Word got around like wildfire and eventually got to old Shigaraki himself. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine tonight, it took five and a half minutes from Shigaraki calling his boss, until All Might was storming the Golden Cat.”

 Damn, there had been you, badmouthing Shigaraki not ten minutes ago in your head. If it hadn’t been for him telling All Might, who knows what would be happening to you right now?

 You made a mental note to be extra nice to him the next time you saw him.

 The thought that Cash had been interested in you made you shudder, sickened at the thought of him even thinking about you like that. Your body felt grimy and you resisted the urge to run to the bathroom and scrub yourself clean.

 All Might was officially your fucking hero and he could pry that word from your cold, dead hands.

 Sure, he would be horrified at the implication but that didn’t make it any less true. Maybe that’s why he’d brushed off your questioning earlier, being difficult when you wanted to know how he’d been injured.

 You caught yourself grinning stupidly, attempting to hide it by biting your lip. You realised that there was no point. Ivy couldn’t see you anyway.

 “So, I think the message is officially loud and clear. No-one fucks with the good Doctor,” she laughed, all angelic and sweet and you beamed down the phone, laughing along with her. You felt a heady sort of rush as the realisation that you were safe again sunk in. That the villains you had helped and minded and treated like people over the years had heard that you were in danger and had come to the rescue in their own way.

 The realisation that… that he cared. Deep down, past his angry and irritable nature, he really cared.

 “Ivy, I-”

 Without warning, two large, muscular arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you might have jumped had All Might not buried his face into your neck and rumbled a low, lazy growl, like a bear waking up from hibernation. He nuzzled you with a deliberate slowness, lips pressing warm against your throat.

 “You still talking to the sewer rat?” he murmured, sounding annoyed because he knew you wouldn’t hang up on her just because he said so- and so he would have to wait as patiently as he could until you were done.

 On the other hand, it was an opportunity to rile Ivy up as much as possible.

 “It’s Vagabond, you overgrown man child,” she hissed down the line, all previous goodwill towards him gone from her voice.

 All Might ignored her, choosing instead to tug you back until you were plastered against his chest and he could lay his kisses along your shoulder- even though he still had to stoop down to reach. How did he even get so tall? Your breath caught in your throat, longing and gratitude fighting for the number one spot.

 He wasn’t going to stay patient for much longer and neither were you.

 “Listen, I gotta go, Ives. Love you, babes,” you said quickly and she cackled manically, well aware of where you were rushing off to in such a hurry. This was only proving her right. She would be insufferable for weeks now.

 “Love you too, sweets! Try not to break anything. Like the building.”

 You hung up to the sound of her laughter and turned in All Might’s arms, surprising him when you pulled him down for a kiss. You were long past the point of worrying about morals and right and wrong. There couldn’t be anything wrong in wanting him like you did. In knowing that he protected you and cared about you in his own way- no matter if he never said it out loud.

 He broke away, smirking.

 “Someone’s eager,” he ground out, hands sweeping up along your sides. His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and you pulled in a shaky, uneven breath. “I bet you’ll be fucking soaking…”

 Well, he wasn’t wrong. Those intense eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips until he locked his gaze with yours.

 “Thank you,” you blurted out, without meaning to.

 One of his eyebrows quirked, amused.

 “You’re thanking me for making you wet? That’s a new one on me sweetheart but sure. I’ll take the credit where it’s due,” he laughed cockily, one hand on the back of your head as he dove forward again and kissed you roughly. This one was all teeth and tongue and your knees shook, suddenly feeling thankful that he was holding you up.

 You moaned softly, powerless but confident under his touch.

 There was no pushing him back, no sliding your tongue into his mouth because the man was a force of nature and practically every inch of him was pure muscle. So you were content to let him take what he wanted from you, for now. Later you would find a way to turn the tables- to make him the quivering pathetic mess.

 Right now, all you wanted was to find out all of the ways he kissed.

 The angry ones, the lust filled ones, the sweet ones. The good morning kisses and the I’m happy to see you kisses and all the fucking kisses in between. You were off to a great start. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair and stroking your thumb in a circle on his scalp.

 He melted under your touch and deep down you revelled in the fact that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

 “I um,” you stuttered, swallowing hard when you reluctantly pulled away from him. He looked as though he wanted to follow your mouth but for a change he let you speak. “I didn’t mean thank you for- for that.”

 “For what?” he asked knowing full well what you meant, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

 “For…” Your face heated quickly, without you even realising it.

 Without warning, a hand was shoved between your already shaky legs and he pressed upwards, cupping your pussy and dragging a half halting, surprised moan out of your throat. He almost took you off your feet and your fingers wrapped over his biceps to steady yourself.

 “For. What?” All Might asked again, applying pressure in all the places you needed pressure applied. Oh you were well and truly fucked and he hadn’t even gotten you naked yet.

 “Cause if you’re blushing now, kitten, then I can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when we really get going,” he continued, nuzzling along your cheek and rubbing his palm over your aching pussy. “M’not a mind reader. You have to tell me what you want. Where you want me. How hard you want me to pound into you. I wanna hear you sobbing my name like it’s the last fucking thing you’ll ever say tonight. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”

 You were gripping his arms for dear life, trying to focus on the steady heaving of your lungs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 “Yeah, yeah, I can do it,” you promised, almost without hearing the words come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

 “Good girl,” he purred encouragingly and you just about lost your shit for a few seconds, along with any sense you might have had left as the praising words repeated on a loop in your head. “Now, I’ll ask again. What weren’t you thanking me for?”

 He was grinning wickedly against your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

 “For making me wet,” you responded finally, when your tongue no longer felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and you remembered how to speak actual words and not just garbled syllables.

 He groaned- actually groaned like you were the one touching him, instead of the other way around and it sent a shivering wave of heat spreading out at the base of your spine. Your clit throbbed mercilessly under the heat of his palm.

 “Christ kitten,” he said, voice hoarse. He didn’t pull his hand away like you thought he would though. You were still sensitive from your little dry humping session earlier and the pressure he was applying was agonising torture for so many reasons.

 You both knew he would pull away though if you even tried to set the pace. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was in charge.

 “Now, what were you thanking me for? You’ve got me all curious.”

 You felt dizzy and the words didn’t exactly come easily. The heat radiating off of his bare chest was intoxicating and so was the sight of all those well defined, rippling muscles so easily within reach. You indulged yourself, seeing as you hadn’t been able to earlier. You lightly trailed the pads of your fingers over his pectoral muscle and down at a steady pace, over the hardness of his abs and then to the tempting, glorious V shape that led under-

 Your smile came unbidden to you and he noticed, knowing immediately what you were grinning like an idiot about. He was wearing the pajama pants you’d gotten him.

 They were simple, nondescript pants like any guy would wear but… you’d gotten them in his favourite colour and he’d actually put them on.

 You’d expected him to either stay in his towel or well, just get the clothes out of the way entirely.

 “Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, releasing you when he realised that he’d gotten your attention in an entirely different way. The loss of sensation between your legs was more than worth it to see him standing there, a little awkwardly, with his arms crossed. “Don’t be a jackass about it, for fuck sake. I just didn’t want to have my dick out when I was eating dinner.”

 “Like that would bother you,” you beamed and he grunted something petulant that you didn’t hear.

 “You gonna tell me what you’re thanking me for, or what?” he said after a moment, ignoring the obvious erection that was tenting the front of said pants. You found it very, very hard to ignore but dragged your eyes up to his face after a moment anyway. His self assured smirk was expected.

 He knew how attractive he was and what it was doing to you. Damn him.

 “Cash,” you managed to say after a moment and it clearly didn’t answer his question. He looked at you like you were an idiot.

 “You… want cash? Here was me thinking you weren’t a whore,” he cackled, pleased at his own cleverness. You were less amused, punching him lightly in the arm. The shaking of his shoulders didn’t stop but at least he was no longer laughing out loud.

 You were trying to spill your heart to the big jerk and he couldn’t stop mocking you for more than five seconds.

 “Come on! Stop being a dick,” you scowled, arousal now tainted with annoyance. He rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his slicked back hair, his laughter dying after a moment.

 “Alright, alright! Explain yourself, woman,” he swept his hands out, metaphorically giving you the floor.

 “Hinata Cash,” you elaborated, expecting the penny to drop. But when he continued to look lost, it slowly dawned on you that he’d never even bothered to learn the guys name. All he’d known was that he was going to do something to hurt you and… that had been enough for him to go on. Your heart thrummed in your chest. “Um, Scissorhands?”

 Much like they had earlier, his eyes darkened, flashing a sudden warning that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Unlike earlier though, you ignored it. Answers to your question were just out of reach.

 “Why are you bringing up that motherfucker?” he asked gruffly, then swept past you almost dismissively before you could answer. He disappeared into your kitchen, his back to you. Not the reaction you had been expecting. The heated air had vanished- as had the playfulness he’d exuded moments before. “Way to kill a mood, doll.”

 You suddenly regretted opening your mouth. He hadn’t told you- and if he hadn’t told you, there had been a reason for it.

 “Shit,” you hissed softly to yourself, listening to him stomping around the kitchen behind you.

 You turned and followed him, pathetically useless against the part of you that longed to be near him. Besides, there was no taking it back now and you were burning up with curiosity.

 Why had he killed Cash? Why had he even bothered himself at all?

 Most of all, you wanted- no needed to know.

 Had he done it for you?

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

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

[dvixiecups]

"Go go go go!" Osamu shouted as gunfire rained down on the pair, their backs to a flaming building.

It was a classic case of a mission gone awry, the two's incessant bickering alerting half the building of their presence during their "quiet" escape.

"It's your fault we're doing this in the first place!  No we're gonna be here for so much longer," Chuuya snapped, his powerful legs quickly closing the distance between him and a random car parked on the curb.

Thoughtlessly, he smashed open the window while Osamu looped around the car, smashing the opposite window.  The two quickly pulled the car doors open from the inside, slipping in and shutting the doors with a slam.  Chuuya reached in front of him to begin the hot wiring process.

"Wrong side!" Osamu sang, his hands playing with the wires under the wheel.

"Hey!  Let me drive you bastard!"

"No can do, we're out of time. Besides it's not like you could reach the pedals anyway," Osamu chuckled, slamming his foot on the gas as their pursuers hopped onto moterbikes.

Chuuya glared at Osamu's irritatingly smug face, ignoring the ear splitting shatter of bullets against the back window.

"You suck ass at driving!  If those guys don't kill us, you will!" Chuuya shouted just before he was thrown against the car due to a sharp spin of the wheel.

"Yea well you drive like a grandma!  Remember when you stopped at a stop sign while we were being chased?"

"There was a cat in the middle of the road!  We're mafia, not heartless!  I mean at least I can turn without the car going on two wheels."

"How is that a good thing?  Where's the fun in having all wheels on the ground?" Osamu punctuated his point by drifting down an allyway, slowing down their followers just a little, "okay now shoot at them, it's a narrow road even you can't miss."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Chuuya pulled a handful of bullets out of his pocket, leaning out the passenger window and throwing them behind the car.

Rubber squealed as bullets punctered the tires of the bikes, sending their drivers careening into one another.  Chuuya silently congratulated himself.

"Don't get too happy, we're still far from headquarters," Osamu nudged at Chuuya with his free hand, the car weaving down the empty road.

"If we even make it that far in this coffin on wheels," Chuuya gritted, his arms braced on the center console and door respectively.

"Awh, have a little more faith in me chibikko," Osamu pouted, the car flying over a speed bump, sending the riders and any object not nailed down flying.

A sudden bubble of air forced it's way out of Chuuya, alerting him of the nausea which had been lingering in his gut since entering this death trap.  He clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked at the sudden intense feeling.

"Holy shit," he hiccuped, "Your piss-poor driving actually made me fucking carsick."

"That sounds like a you problem," Osamu retorted, turning away from the road to smirk at his passenger.

"It's gonna be an us problem when I puke on your smug ass."

Osamu's smile dropped.

"You wouldn't dare."

Chuuya fake gagged at the driver, eliciting a scream out of the latter.  The car swerved precariously as Osamu took his hands off the wheel in favor of pushing Chuuya away.

"Dude!  Keep your hands on the fucking wheel," Chuuya cried, using his hand to supress a gag.

"Keep your stomach in your fucking stomach!"

Seething, Chuuya turned away, instead trying to distract himself with the horizon.

"Just, drive a little softer... please," he requested, voice faint and genuine, completely unlike his usual tone.

Ignoring him, Osamu pressed down on the pedal faster- opting to arrive at the center of the city before Chuuya had a chance to get sick.  Chuuya's mouth was downturned, his arms hugging his midsection.

His plan worked, as they usually do, and the car came to a squealing stop outside the main building.  A man in a suit was waiting for them.  Stepping out of the car, Osamu rested his head on the car roof to prompt the member.

"Boss would like to speak with you," he informed, deadpan.

Osamu cursed under his breath, already knowing what the meeting would be adressing.  Putting on a smile, he drummed the top of the car, avoiding where bullets had sharpened the car.

"Well you heard him!  We should go, it's bad to keep the boss waiting."

Chuuya groaned, the world still spinning around him as Osamu pulled him onto his feet and towards the familiar buidling.  The former knew better than to protest, having experienced Ougai's silent rage towards whoever leaves the boss expectant.  That feeling of shame was far worse than the nausea fiercely gripping his stomach.

The elevator ride was a living hell, Chuuya's stomach remaining on the first floor as the rest of his body travelled up.  Seeing the city grow smaller through the glass walls was vertigo inducing, a feeling Chuuya had never felt even when meters in the air using his ability.  Maybe it was due to the lack on control.  When using his ability or driving, Chuuya never experienced a problem akin to this.  Closing his eyes didn't help, the neverending movement only playing against his eyelids like a shitty projector.

After a truly painfully long time, the elevator stopped with a ding, it's doors opening slowly.  Trying to present himself as best as possible, Chuuya crossed the threshold and into the boss' office with a straight back and one step ahead of Osamu.

His jaw was clenched at this point, respect and fear for the boss being the only thing holding his lunch in place.  What would happen when that wore off?  When the nausea came to a breaking point which loomed like a wave, large and close to break, what would Chuuya do then?

He didn't have long to ponder this, his body lurched forward before even being able to adress Ougai.  Appauled with his bodys betrayal, Chuuya apologized.  Osamu side eyed him, before speaking with Ougai.

"You called us?" Osamu prompted.

"I did.  What happened today?"

"Someone," Osamu nodded towards Chuuya who was struggling to hold himself upright, "got too offended by a joke and started yelling."

"Oh, as if it's," he paused to stifle a burp, "my fault!"

"And how did that happen?" Ougai motioned towards Chuuya.

"This bastard never learned how to drive!" A retch tailed his statement, much to Chuuya's horror.

Osamu stepped away silently and Chuuya fell to his knees, hands in fists against the floor.

"And he never learned how to handle a couple bumps and turns!"

"Shut. Up," Chuuya demanded through his teeth, eyes closed with concentration.

The guards shifted uncomfortably across the room.

"Help him to the restroom," Ougai commanded, staring Osamu in the eye.

"What!" He all but yelled, "why me?  He can crawl there himself!"

"Osamu.  Now."

Scowling at Ougai, Osamu grimaced down at Chuuya before offering his hand.

"Is this," Chuuya paused to swallow down his nausea, "our punishment?"

"Only if you look at it that way," Ougai responded as Chuuya reluctantly look Osamu's hand.

Chuuya was able to hold his composure- or what shreds were left of his composure- until the pair made it into the hallway.

"If you puke on me I will put dried shit in all of your cigarettes," Osamu threatened through clenched teeth.

"Don't tempt me," Chuuya retorted through similarly clenched teeth.  It's not that he wanted to get sick on his "partner" but the odds really weren't in his favor right now.  Plus, it's not like Osamu didn't deserve it.

As soon as the bathrooms came into view, Chuuya peeled himself out of Osamu's hold and stumbled over to one of the sinks.  Planting his hands firmly on the basin, he allowed his upped back to arch with a heave.

"You're disgusting," Osamu stated plainly from the entryway.

"Like you're," he gagged openly, "one to talk."

"At least I'm not retching like a cat choking on a hairball!"

"At least my hair doesn't look like an overgrown sewer rat wearing dollar hair extentions!"

"Oh hoh hoh, YOU'RE one to talk about hair."

"The hell is that supposed to me-"

His head was still facing towards Osamu when a final gag brought up a mouthful of sick.

Both their eyes went wide as they registered what had just took place.  Osamu was mortified, looking at the splatters of illness on his finely polished shoes.

"Awh fuck!  Go back over the sink!" Osamu jumped into the hair.

"Shut u-" a burp over took his threat, leaving his attempt at enounciation sounding more like a frog.

Another, far heavier wave came out, splashing messily into the sink basin.  His fingers were dirtied with the foul substance, it's smell permeating the small room.

"This is your fucking fault you overrated, bland ass, one man Romeo and Juliet remake.

"You're buying me new shoes."

"Fat chance, JD"

[dontdietwd]

Don’t Die, day 61, part 2

Merle had been quiet for the past few minutes, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew he was high, his mind probably elsewhere, and that he would return at any given moment. I sat on the pipe where he had his back onto and just observed. The group was quiet. Andrea and Jackie were side by side looking down at the street, talking quietly. T-Dog was sitting on the floor, still in pain from the beating he had received, the radio in hand. Morales seemed anxious, pacing slowly close to the parapet. Glenn had sat down on the same a few minutes ago, expressionless, but I could see his eyes dancing quickly as if thinking hard about something. The new guy – I wondered why nobody had even asked his name yet – was still where I had left him minutes ago, on the other side of the roof.

I had heard what he had old Merle about being just a guy looking for his wife and son and felt sorry for him. He seemed hopeful, or at least seemed to be holding tightly to that hope only to keep moving, but I had a more realistic mind. I knew how unlikely it was that the man would ever find them. They’d probably be gone now, dead or undead. I looked down between my knees, shaking my head. This man had better have an idea to get them out of here soon. The doors were blocked, our cars surrounded, the street looking like an ant’s nest from above. It was not safe to try and pass by them; we’d all end up dead. So far my only idea was to wait it out, the walkers were bound to give up and disperse slowly, but they could break the door before that, so it was not an option. Unless they passed flying above the walkers or underneath

Underneath.

I heard voices now, I knew the group had started talking again, but only heard them from the back of my mind. If we could find a way to pass by the walkers, maybe a way to go into the sewers…

“How’s that signal?” the sheriff approached asking, looking down to where T was sat.

“Like Dixon’s brain. Weak.”

“Keep trying,” Morales told him.

“Why?” Andrea’s tone was hopeless. “There’s nothing they can do. Not a damn thing.”

“Got some people outside the city, is all,” Morales clarified it to the new guy. “There’s no refugee center. That’s a pipe dream.”

“Then she’s right, we’re on our own,” the sheriff said. “It’s up to us to find a way out.”

“Good luck with that!” Merle drawled from his spot, making me turn to look at him. I had really though he’d been out all this time. “These streets ain’t safe in his part of town from what I head. Ain’t that right, sugar tits?” he was now looking at Andrea, who was fumbling into a backpack on the ground. I rolled my eyes knowing what was coming. “Hey, honeybunch, what’d you say you get me out of these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway.���

“I’d rather,” Andrea cut him off as she got up, something from the bag in hand.

“Rub muncher. I figure as much.”

My mind was only half on what I heard around. I was half glad Merle had never proposed me something like that, half still thinking of the possibility of finding a sewer to climb down.

“The streets ain’t safe…” new guy was mumbling.

“Now that’s an understatement,” Morales told him, deep frown in his forehead.

“What about under the streets?” I voiced what I’d been thinking and stood up, taking two steps to approach them. “The sewers?”

“Oh, man!” Morales’ face lit up.

“Hey, Glenn!” I called him and saw him straighten his back immediately, ready. “D’you know if there are any manholes in the alley?”

Glenn got up and ran instantly. He returned in a moment, still running. “No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are.”

“Maybe not!” Jackie, who had been quiet for the most part of time, spoke up. “Old buildings like this were built in the twenties. Big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down the subbasements.”

“How do you know that?” Glenn asked her.

“It’s my job. Was. I worked in the city zoning office.”

Silence took us for a moment while we all looked at one another. The sheriff looked at me then, raising an eyebrow in question.

“We’ll try this,” I decided. “We have to find the entrance to this tunnel. Glenn?”

“I think I might know where it is!” he smiled and ran in the quick way that he did, we all following him without further questioning.

 * * *

 The subbasement was pitch dark when Morales, Andrea, Jackie, the new guy and I followed Glenn down, only our flashlights making possible to discern anything. We stood at a guardrail, looking down at what looked like a sewer entrance. Glenn informed us it was the lowest point in the building, therefore the most probable place. When questioning who was going to go down there to see if it would work, every single head turned to Glenn, he younger and quicker one, except for me.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Andrea told him. At least, I thought, she’d had the decency to sound guilty for suggesting him to go down there.

“No, you won’t!”, Glenn answered firmly, surprising the others. “Not you.”

“Why not me? Think I can’t?”, Andrea now sounded offended, a second’s change on tone.

“I – I wasn’t…”

“Speak your mind,” the sheriff told Glenn and made me roll my eyes. I was annoyed now. Annoyed with how everyone turned to Glenn when something scary had to be done, annoyed at Andrea’s both kinds of tone, and now at the new guy trying to give heartfelt advice when he had only just arrived.

“Look, until now I always came here by myself. In and out, grab a few things, no problem. The first time I bring a group everything goes to hell. No offense. If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine, but only if we do it my way,” he looked down at the entrance and back at the group. “It’s tight down there. If I run into something and have to get away quick, I don’t want you all jammed up behind me, getting me killed. I’ll take one person.”

The new guy straightened up and opened his mouth to speak, but Glenn cut him out. At least he had tried to step up, I would give him that.

“Not you either,” Glenn said raising a hand to stop him. “You’ve got Merle’s gun and the key to the handcuff and I’ve see you shoot,” he stopped to look at me, across from him on the guardrail. “Right?”

“I’d feel better if you were out in the store watching those doors, covering our ass,” I replied and added, looking at Andrea, “You’ve got a gun, so you should go with him.”

The both of them nodded, and so did Glenn before he kept talking, “You’ll be my wingman,” he told Morales, who nodded. “Jackie and Sam’ll stay up here. Something happens, you’ll cover the entrance and yell down to us, get us back here in a hurry.”

“No,” I said and they all looked at me. I had crossed my arms, gesture they all must have known by now to mean I had my foot down. “I heard what you said, Glenn, but no. You’re running the group today, I know it, but sorry, no. I won’t get you down there. I’ll go with Morales.”

“But Sam, if something happens the camp needs –”

“I ain’t worried about the camp now, Glenn, what matters now is that we get outta here safely, and you’re the one who knows this place well enough to help get us out. I’m not risking that,” I saw Glenn start to disagree, but I knew we didn’t have much time to discuss it. “I’ve made up my mind, Glenn. You’re not going down there; I am. You stay here with Jackie. Sorry, dude, that’s final.”

Vexed, Glenn looked down, not trying to hide he was not happy with the decision, but didn’t say anything. The others nodded and I poked Morales in the arm as I passed by him on my way to the ladder. Four flashlights illuminated our way down, me first, and as the we stood on the bottom of the pit, Andrea and the new guy left to go back to the store. With a look and a nod, Morales and I walked into the sewer. There were rats – real big ones – down there, but I didn’t mind them. My wingman and I walked slowly and in silence for a few minutes, the air stale and thick made it hard to take any deeper breath.

“Hey, Sam?” Morales broke the silence quietly, but still it sounded loud down there. “What’d you make of this new guy?”

“Hard to say. Nosy, for sure. Walks in here kicking the door and handcuffing people to the roof.”

“Do you think Dixon was gonna stop?”

“Think so. I got my own problems with Merle but we manage. No way we’ll ever know now.”

“Guy’d better find a way to get us outta here if the sewers don’t work. We’re trapped in here ‘cause of him.”

“Ya damn right. Not that he did it on purpose or anything, but is still on him.”

“So, d’you think we like him?”

I turned my head a bit to look back at Morales, understanding that by ‘we’ he meant the whole group.

“Not up to me, Mo. Ya wanna like the guy, you like the guy. I don’t dislike him, if you wanna know, but I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Guy reminds me of Shane a little,” Morales told me. “Like it’s on him to take charge.”

“So we’ll be fucked. Two cops banging on their chests? Don’t see how this gonna work.”

“Hey, is that a door?”

At the end of the tunnel, a heavy looking metal door closed the way. Morales stepped up to open it, he had to use his shoulder weight to push it open, but it didn’t offer any more trouble. Inside, the air was even thicker, the smell of something dead hitting us like a punch. Morales and I looked at each other and nodded, agreeing how careful they had to be. Across the small area there were a few steps down and, finally, a round hole closed with iron grid.

“Yeah, we got ourselves a sewer tunnel. Jackie was right.”

“Can we cut through it?” I asked as I touched the iron. It seemed awfully strong.

“If we have a blowtorch and half a day, sure. Dale’s hacksaw sure as hell won’t do it.”

Unmistakable sound or growling reached our ears then, among rat’s squeaking, making us both take a step back from the grid. A walker inside, still chewing on a rat, tried to get to us, his arms crossing the grid, face pressed onto it. Another walker joined it then, and by the sound of it, there were more approaching.

“Well, fuck,” I said aloud over the walkers’ moaning. “Ain’t a good idea to spend half a day to open hell’s gates.”

 * * *

 Silence was once again over us, but the tension was more palpable than ever. The first glass downstairs had been broken by the walkers, who were working insistently on breaking the second one – the only thing separating them from our group upstairs – as we looked down to the street, thinking hard. The sewers had been a dead end, as Morales and I regretfully told the others when we returned. Thunder rumbled in a low threat above our heads. The new guy had a pair of binoculars in hand and had been looking around for a couple of minutes now, quietly. I was by his side on the parapet and he handed me the binoculars as if in a kind of sudden revelation.

“That construction site,” he pointed to it making me look in that direction. “Those trucks, they always keep keys on hand.”

“You’ll never make it past the walkers,” Morales said by our side, shaking his head.

New guy looked past me and Morales, to Glenn. “You got me out of that tank.”

“Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted,” Glenn tried to dismiss it.

“Can we distract them again?”

“Right!” we all turned to look down at Merle, handcuffed. I’d thought he’d been sleeping or something, he had been so quiet. “Listen to him, he’s on to something! A Diversion, like on ‘Hogan’s Heroes’!”

I had no fucking idea what Hogan’s Heroes was, and by Glenn’s looks, neither did he. I assumed Merle had not said something good, as expected, by the other’s reactions. The sheriff, though, only moved on.

“They’re drawn by sound, right?”

“Right. Like dogs,” I told him. “They hear a sound, they come. Is why your bullet got so many of them on our asses.”

“What else?”

“Other than by sound?” I snorted a laugh. “They see, smell, all the works, like any person but dead. Man, have you been in a coma or something all this time?”

“They can tell us by smell?” he asked, ignoring my question.

Glenn laughed nervously, “Can’t you?”

“They smell dead, we don’t. It’s pretty distinct!” Andrea also had the unbelieving tone on her voice. None of us understood how this guy had survived so far without knowing this basic information about the dead. The dead, though, were almost invading the store by now, so there was to spare time to talk about this. We had to get out, and fast.

He looked around, at each of us, and even though nobody knew this man, it was written all over his face that he had an idea, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What?” I asked him.

“So if we smell and look like them… They won’t see us. Ain’t that right?”

Nobody answered, but Andrea laughed it out, Glenn looked nauseous and the others seemed just ultimately hopeless. But damn. A light bulb turned on atop my head. What a fucking good idea!

“Wait, guys,” I told them and the man looked at me, the glint in his eyes sparkling more. “It makes sense! Just, I mean, got no idea of how doing it –” I paused, ideas dizzyingly flowing around my mind. “Guts, you think?”

He smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

 * * *

 He didn’t want to do it, it was clear. The idea of slicing and digging though a walker’s corpse with axes had been ok in theory, but now as we all looked down at the walker – one T-Dog had beaten to death with a baseball bat earlier – the idea seemed much more stupid. I stood away with the other two women. Not that I was showing or telling anybody, but my stomach was complaining loudly at the mere idea of what the men were going to do now.

The kid didn’t like guts, apparently.

They had paid their respects for the man that walker had once been – Wayne Dunlap, and he was an organ donor – and now there was nothing else to do but gut him. Exclamations, disgusted sounds and something in Spanish followed the first blow and kept coming for as long as the sheriff dug into the corpse with the axe he had taken from the wall. It had been decided I was going with him; we were already wearing a beige robe over their clothes, ready to the gore shower. I was breathing hard while it happened, as intestines and other indistinct, putrid smelling human organs were exposed and turned to pieces.

“I am so gonna hurl…” Glenn moaned across from me, reflecting my thoughts.

“Not now, please, Glenn,” I told him despite my own nausea.

“Everybody got gloves?” the man asked as he stopped a bit sweaty. “Don’t get any on your skin or in your eyes.”

Reluctantly, all the others started shoving their hands into the walker’s guts and pulling pieces and gooey things out to rub on us both, all the while complaining. It took no more than a minute for Glenn to let go and turn around, away from the others, to throw up. The sound and smell of it, combined with the few pairs of hands rubbing gore on my clothes triggered my own nausea. I shoved the hands away and also turned away.

“I can’t!”, I without taking a moment to think. “Oh God, I can’t!” and went on for a second round.

So now, after I had shrugged off the robe and it was wrapped around Glenn, who recovered from the nausea as I simply didn’t, I felt so angry I almost cried. I knew I had to be the one to go with the sheriff, I didn’t want anyone else to do that in my place, especially Glenn, but as I retreated to the other side of the room to hurl for a third time, I knew I didn’t have a choice. Glenn and the new guy – I wondered why I hadn’t still asked about his name – were now covered in red and black matter and Andrea was handing Glenn her own gun.

“What about Merle Dixon?” T-Dog asked the man and, after a second of thought, he fumbled under the dirty robe and into one of his pockets to fish out the handcuff key. He handed it to T, reverently, and the other man nodded, gravelly. Oh, god damn it! The keys should be with me, it would be my responsibility to set Merle free when the moment came, but now they had restarted the process with the remaining guts of the walker, and I couldn’t look or talk anymore. I had nothing else to throw up now, but the kid was still extremely angry with the scene.

 * * *

 “Hey, what’s happening? Sam?” Merle yelled hoarsely as soon as we returned to the roof, running to the edge to look down the street.

“T, try the radio again!” I instructed instead of answering.

“Hey, come on! Talk to me, yall!”

I looked at him only long enough to see Merle seemed a bit soberer than before, his words less slurred. I kept running to the edge, though, as T-Dog’s voice trying communications again sounded through the roof. Morales found Glenn and his gory companion down the street in a moment, pointing down at them, followed closely by a loud thunder echoing down, as if on cue.

“That asshole’s out on the street with the handcuff keys?”

T-Dog held the key, toying with it for Merle to see. His face showed the dread of being literally on T-Dog’s hands after having beaten him up. Merle looked directly at me for a moment, but I didn’t say anything, turning to look down again. Maybe it would be good for him to feel fear once in a while.

“Hello!” a crackling voice sounded over the radio, making everybody silent and turn towards it. “Hello? Reception’s bad on his end! Repeat!

“Sounds like Dale,” I whispered, afraid my very voice was going to make the connection fail. There was more static and a few lost words, but it was more than they had been able to get until now. “Just tell them what’s going on, maybe they’re listening.” I told him a little bit louder.

“We’re in some deep shit,” he started. “We’re trapped in the department store. There’re walkers all over the place, hundreds of them! We’re surrounded”.

Nothing followed it. Dale’s voice didn’t sound again and, slowly, even the static stopped.

“Good, now they think we’re dead,” Andrea whined as she turned to the edge of the roof again.

“Hey!” Merle yelled again. “The fuck’s going on?”

“Shh, Merle!” I turned to him. “We don’t know! They’re just walking to the construction site, nothing else!”

What followed were minutes of desperation. It had started raining, a quite strong shower, which seconds later made the two of the man down the street start to run. Tens of walkers ran after them, almost as fast, having scented they living flesh. Up on the roof, there was nothing anyone could do, and I dreaded the moment I would see Glenn get caught and eaten right in front of our eyes. They were far now, jumping over the construction fence only a second away from the walkers’ jaws. The fence fell even before they reached the truck they had been aiming for and it was possible to see them entering and closing the doors a breath away from being reached by the dead. The truck sped away immediately, leaving our line of sight.

“They’re leaving us!” Andrea cried.

“What? What?” Merle reacted from his spot.

“No, no! Come back!!” Andrea kept going.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Andrea, shut up!” I snapped. “They won’t leave us, are you crazy?”

“Do you see them?” the blonde, crying woman turned to me, and pointing somewhere out the building. “They’re gone! They know there’s no way out, they’ve left us!”

“They are coming back,” I stated firmly and looked at the others, who also had desperation on their eyes and back at Andrea. “They’ll be back! Quit being such a fuckin’ drama queen.”

It took less than two minutes for the radio, still on T-Dog’s hand, to creak alive. “Those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street?” Glenn started nervously but speaking rather clearly. “Meet us there and be ready!”

Hopefulness repapered on everyone’s eyes and, without saying more, we all started gathering our bags in a hurry. With two backpacks over my shoulders, I turned to Merle, only to see all the other run towards the door, including T-Dog, accompanied by Merle’s desperate screams as soundtrack.

“T-Dog!!” I yelled as loud as I could. “Get your ass back here with that key!!” Anger raised to my throat, reddening my face as I saw my supposedly friend look between me, Merle and the door, doubtful if he was really going to go back. “Gimme that fuckin’ key, T-Dog, or so help me God!!”

He turned and ran to me, finally. Everybody else had vanished through the heavy roof door and I was still close to Merle, I hadn’t been able to take a single step towards it. As T-Dog approached and Merle still yelled desperately, his voice hoarser and hoarser, he took the key out of his pocket. It flew out of his hand in a moment, so fast I could barely follow its motion, as T-Dog tripped and fell to heavily to the ground. They small key disappeared into one of the drain holes, followed by a frantic wail of “No!” from Merle.

“Fuck!” I cried, hands raising to my head. “No, fuck! Fuck, T, the fuck did you do?!”

“Son of a bitch! You did that of purpose!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Fuckin’ liar! You threw it on purpose!” Merle kept on furiously.

“It was an accident! I’m sorry!” T kept apologizing as he walked backwards to the door, and then turned and ran away.

“Fuck!!” Merle cried, unintelligible words of rage coming out of his mouth as he fought the handcuffs, strongly enough to draw blood from his wrist.

I joined him; backpacks forgotten on the floor as I sat down and started kicking the pipe with my heels. It didn’t even make a scratch.

“Stop it, ya fuckin pussy!” Merle yelled at me, his free hand pulling me away from him. “Ya gotta go. Go, get the fuck away from here!”

“I ain’t leaving ya here!”

“Yeah, y’are! They’ll leave ya here too, go!”

“No, Merle! I ain’t leaving you alone here! They’ll – I don’t – They’ll come back for us.”

“They won’t!” he shouted to loud that a vein on his neck seemed to pop. “They not coming back, ya gotta go! Go, get the fuck outta my face!”

“Merle –”

“I don’t want ya here, Georgia!” he spat and actually foamed out of his mouth, getting up as best as he could with a hand attached to the pipe. “Leave me alone! Go, now!”

“Geor – ” I started, confused.

“Aren’t ya listening to me? Go! Go! Get lost, Georgia, now!”

“Okay!” I finally cried, getting up bringing the bags with me. “I’ll go but I’m coming back for ya, Merle, me and Daryl, we’ll come back!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care, GO!”

Fighting the urge to cry, I ran, Merle finally going quiet. As I crossed the door, I saw a chain that had not been there before, with a heavy padlock hanging with it on the door handle. Relieved someone had taken the time to put it there before fleeing, I locked the door behind me, still taking an extra second to make sure it was firm in place, before flying down the stairs.

There were walkers inside the store, having just broken the glass. I stopped for a second, “No, no, no…” before making a mental line from where I stood to the door that would lead me to the doors Glenn had spoken about. Holding the bags firmly around my shoulders, I set to motion, running right towards the walkers. Two meters away from the closest one, I took an abrupt turn to my left, a still empty area and had to climb up to a counter, running on top of it, avoiding walkers’ hands by inches. Closer to the door, I was able to fall back to the floor and run. The others were there, on the side room, throwing the last of the bags into the parked truck, yelling incoherently. T-Dog took my bags before motioning me to take his hand so he could help me up. With an angry frown, I rejected it and climbed in by myself. The truck doors were still open as it took off, the sweaty, smelly sheriff driving it away. Morales closed them and we all sat down, heavy breaths and the nearly audible sound of our heartbeats.

After a moment of silence, the others started looking abound, confused, especially at T-Dog and me. Bile rose to my throat once again, at him for dropping the key, at the stranger for handcuffing him in the first place, and even more at myself for having let Merle bully me into leaving him there. Fucking dammit, I had just left him behind!

“I dropped the damn key,” T-Dog explained bitterly, and what happened had become quite clear. We had just abandoned one of theirs.

Silence took the truck, exhaustion winning over words. Morales was having a quiet conversation with the sheriff on the front seat, but I couldn’t listen. I had lain down on the floor of the truck, an arm draped over my eyes. Glenn had passed by us minutes ago with his sports car, alarm buzzing loudly, cheering in joy. I didn’t blame him. We had gotten out, half by his brave actions, and he hadn’t just been forced to abandon a friend behind.

A bit calmer now, I felt my stomach complain by the motion of the truck and my position, but I couldn’t bring myself to move, my mind worried about something else. How on Earth was I supposed to tell Daryl about what had happened? About me going even though he had asked me not to? About not being able to control Merle? About him being there, even now, alone and handcuffed on the roof under the sun? I was apprehensive over his reaction with the others, but dreaded the possibility of him hating me. What the fuck was I gonna do if Daryl turned away from me?

It took less than expected go get back to camp. Truck parked close to the end of the road, Andrea was the first one to slide out, running to reencounter her sister. Morales, also eager to see his family, was just as fast.

“Hey,” I turned to see the sheriff approach me behind the truck, the others already away. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For your friend.”

“Yeah? Are you really, new guy?”

He rested his hands on his hips, looking down but with eyes still on my face. “It was never my intention to leave him there. I just wanted him to be in control.”

I breathed out, annoyed, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, I know that. I know alright? I don’t blame you for doing that. But, fuck, he is there now, trapped, and it is because of that. Just a fact.”

“Hey! Helicopter boy!” Morales voice sounded over the reunion and conversation that had been going on nearby, making us both look in their direction. “Come say hello!”

He looked again at me as if asking for permission or what to do. “Just go,” I told him and turned to get my backpacks. I felt like crying, exhaustion hitting me like a wrecking ball. I knew Daryl wasn’t back from his hunt yet, it would most likely happen tomorrow. It was good, I thought. At least I would try to get some sleep before having to deal with it and probably lose one more friend.

My thoughts were interrupted by a child’s cry, squeaky and happy. Carl’s voice, I recognized. Turning to look, I saw him throw himself over the new guy, who was now on the floor, crying, clinging to him. It made sense when I looked at Lori, her eyes, which were naturally big even wider now, filled with tears. In a moment the three of them were hugging. Over their shoulders, he was now looking at Shane, who had a confused smile on his face, and the whole camp understood. The new guy was Rick Grimes.

 * * *

 I hated that Carol had to help prepare dinner and then take her part and her family’s and go sit away from the others, not being allowed to socialize, talk like everybody else. Ed made her sit away, Sofia in tow. The low fire creaked n the middle of the group, quietly listening to Rick tell them what had happened. He had woken up from a coma in the abandoned hospital, completely unaware of what had happened – exactly like I had unintentionally guessed up on the roof. Now it made sense why he knew nothing about walkers. He had gone home and then back to Atlanta and that had been when they met, never once imagining that his family was back at the camp. Lori had told me Rick was dead, that Shane had seen his body. Now, as Rick spoke, wife and son wrapped around him, I observed Shane’s expression, or lack thereof. Nothing other than his wide eyes gave away anything he was feeling. He smiled a bit every time Rick looked directly at him, but his smile vanished as soon as he thought he wasn’t being watched. Making a mental note to observe him even closer than I always did, I decided something was definitely going to come out of this.

On the other little group, Ed placed an extra log on their fire and it rose up, light strong enough to call attention. Shane looked at me. That was supposed to be my kind of responsibility.

“Damn, Shane, could you take care of it?” I asked him, happy to give him something to do other than watch as his best friend took away the girl he had been seeing. “I just can’t deal with fuckin’ Ed right now.”

“Sure,” he said as he got up, seemingly grateful for having a chance to direct some of his feelings. He got up and the group remained in silence for a moment, the creaking of the firewood the only thing to be heard. I could feel the weight of stares on my direction.

“Sam?” Glenn broke the silence with an almost whisper, two spots away from me. “You okay?”

I looked at him for a moment before answering, clearly aware of all the eyes on me. Bitterness coating my eyes and voice, I finally answered “My friend’s just been abandoned handcuffed to a rooftop in a walker infested building. I ain’t okay.”

Glenn tried a sympathetic smile, but failed miserably, making me almost feel sorry for him. Nothing of it had been his fault; he went out there, risked his life covered in walkers’ guts to take them all out of there. That was something I would never forget.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl?” Dale asked me carefully. “He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.”

Before I could laugh and tell him ‘no shit’, T-Dog answered his question. “I’ll tell him. I dropped the key; it’s on me.”

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine,” Rick cut matter-of-factly.

“It’s not a fuckin’ competition!” I told them both with a bit more force than intended. Before moving on, I breathed once and continued a little calmer. “He’s not gonna wanna hear it from the one who cuffed and the one who lost the key.”

“I did what I did. Hell if I’m gonna hide from him.”

“We could lie.” Amy, leaning against her older sister’s shoulder, barged in.

“Or you all could stop pretending you actually cared for Merle or even for Daryl,” I gave up on hiding my annoyance. I looked at Amy, “Lie, really? Is that what you’d all do if I wasn’t here?”

“We’re telling the truth”, Rick spoke as firmly as me.

“Merle was out of control,” Andrea also opined and looked at Lori. “Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s.”

“Right, I see,” I spoke again. “None of you waited. You all just ran away from the roof, ignoring his screaming for help. If I remember right, Andrea, you were the first one out of the door. If I didn’t plead for T to come back with the key,” I looked at him, “you’d have left as well. Dropping the key was an accident, but you weren’t even gonna go back to try. So, please, do not tell me being left behind was Merle’s fault. All the rest, yeah, but not this.”

“I was scared and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it,” T-Dog answered my accusation. “We were all scared, we all ran, and for what I see, so did you. You’re here, ain’t you?”

“He made me run. Even high and desperate he knew I’d also be left behind if I didn’t run. Or would you guys stop, or even think of turning back to get me? I did run, yeah, but I stopped long enough to chain that door.”

“Thought you would…” T said, calming down a bit, lowering his voice and looking down. “It was on the floor, by the stairs, I got it and hung on the door, thought you’d lock it.”

“Yeah… Thanks for that…”

“Hold on…” Andrea whispered. “What does that mean?”

“Staircase is narrow,” Sam started explaining. “Few walkers may have climbed it, not many, not enough to break the chain.”

“No. Not that chain. Not that padlock,” T-Dog continued my thought.

“It just means that Merle’s still there. Alive, abandoned on the roof, alone and handcuffed. That, no competitions for who’s the guiltiest – That’s on all of us.”

Painful silence stretched around the fire. I felt my throat constricted, wondering again how I was supposed to tell it to Daryl. T-Dog got up holding his ribcage, looking like he might throw up. I had to get out of there as well, and knew nobody could possibly say anything of use now.

“We’d best be getting of”, I informed after a moment. “Was a long day for all of us. Everyone who hasn’t been to Atlanta today should take the rounds, we’re wracked. That ok?”

Nodding, the others agreed and started vanishing to their own posts or tents. I didn’t want to think of anything else, not tonight. Entering my small, orange tent, I dropped to my bed without even removing my shoes, passing out rather than falling asleep.

[blake-nikos]

DMing  with a troublesome player pt 2  plus game zero

Okay so i had my session zero  at my  birthday party  (pretty much just a BBQ lunch before D&D cos  apparently  im 28 now so yay me  i guess )  And for over a month Ive been telling my players to make characters,  and what dose miss troublesome do nothing  no character at all not even a idea for a character... yay me  I’m thinking  and say “ well your just spectating then,  you had plenty of time to get ready” and  one of my other players can see the tantrum building in her face and the other player just says “i can just roll up a random character for you,”    as shes accepts that  and seems fine making the whole table wait over half a hour for her...  but while thats happening i start the game and let the ready players introduce themselves and RP a bit  and talk to npcs and get the game moving  so they are not just sitting there bored. all the other players  have been gathered around a table drinking  thanks to one of the players  being a loud drunk dwarf that wants to make friends  and go on adventures.    as i go to introduce her character  she “yells i dont want to go inside   i want to climb onto the roof  and just sit there”  the first fucking thing she dose    is that “lol Im so random shit”     to i say “ fine you dont meet the a party  you dont get any quest information  and the guards are going to see you and try to arrest  you for trespassing/ being a public nuisance”    and there go’s  another 10 minuets  of her arguing with the other players . ending with  a reluctantly and aggressive “fine  i’ll go inside but im not sitting with the group”      at this point  im just starring at  one of my other players who also GM’s    just like having a physic conversation with each other  as hes about as frustrated as i am. Time go’s on they get the  starter quest  and go into the sewers to find what is killing the giant rats   its a phase spider btw  there going through  get jumped by some rats and come across a giant rat-king but not before they split the party... well not really   3 went to kill the rat-king the rest waited  down the path a bit about 4 rounds of combat  with 2 experienced and one skipping his turn  cos  is PC  cant  keep line of sight  and cant see in the dark.... so 2 players and 1 enemy doing combat, they know what they are doing, combats quick they know there actions  and spells  but  4 rounds and about 3-4 minutes in real time later.  miss troublesome screams  at the table  breaking the flow of combat  yelling “im bored   i want to do something!   my character walks down the path! away from the party”      at this point the players remind her this his what happens when you split the party,    her response is” well my character gets bored easy” In my head im screaming  “fucking really!  the character with such a developed backstory  and personalty that you had someone else  fucking randomly generated a hour ago!   thats bullshit and you fucking know it,  you are using that as such a cop out its ridiculous“           I say none of this of coarse but remind her it has only  been 24 seconds in game,  your character  has that short attention span you would walk off  alone  in a place where you have see people get ambushed twice.  the other players  in character stop her  like what the fuck are you doing  but she still walks  30 feet way    ( i should have let her go her max  distance and  get her self killed )     any way they kill the rat king some cool rp stuff happens  and the party finds the phase spiders nest   she trys to get the webs of the ceiling and they fall on her basically putting her in a grapple state  oh damn just that caused drama with her. the spider  tries to stealth kill some of the party but  fails 3 times  (just unlucky rolls for it )   eventual it dose a good chunk of damage to the party and kills one out right a legit death in my first game.  ( there are healers in town that have revivify and the friendly drunken dwarf  fireman carries that high elf rogue  out of the sewer  as quick as he can   and the elf is saved  at the last second but that death is actually given the player some cool rp ideas so it all works out )  any way the spider is knocked down to 3 hp  and it phases out and runs. the remaining players  including miss troublesome  find 3 people webbed up in the spiders nest  2 young girls and a man all in black,  the cleric wakes him up as miss troublesome  is digging through his pockets  and finds all his stolen goods  and his daggers...  i let her know what she found and list all the stolen items and his weapons  shes says she “ takes them,  and i throw the daggers away”          hes says he cant walk  she she picks him up over her shoulder and tries to pickpocket his loot back   but notices the cleric watching him,  till he sees the party's rogue  and tells him in “thieves cant”  he’ll split the loot  he has hidden  if he gets him out of here  the rogue  agrees and tries to convince the other players  to let the thief go but they dont want to so,  the thief grabs a massive egg sack off the wall and slams it on to the  miss troublesome’s  head covering the her in baby spiders,  he grabs his loot as the party's rogue  chases him then  leads the party in the wrong direction  letting the thief escape.   out of game   she asks why he attacked  “you took his loot  you know hes a thief why would he let you just take him and his stuff”       then she carries on for another 5 minuets  yelling “ i didn't take his stuff!!  just his daggers”     the whole table  looked at her  at this point   one player says you have to be  specific and she fucken starts to cry “i did but no one listens to me “     again  shes 30   and she was the only one talking at the time  and not to mention the countless times she tried to start random convos  with other players about out of game stuff while they were trying to RP the rest was all rp stuff and went  smoothly.    this post is already long enough  but  that was my first game GMing Evey one liked it “apparently” even miss troublesome  even tho everyone was frustrated by her.   I might do a more of a campaign diary type post  if people are interested and try not to make it about miss troublesome some     May the GM gods  THE MATTHEWS  Mercer & Colville  pleas give me strength and guide me.       

[mmazzeroo]

Chapter 2: DANY I - How Does She Do That?

@helloimnotawesome - Happy 2nd December <3

Chapter 2:

DANY I - How Does She Do That?

"What a shit day!" she mumbled as she idly ran her finger round the edge of the shots-glass. That lousy piece of shit! It was her third and last glass for the night. He's not worth your tears, Dany, remember that!

She could feel Viserys edging closer. Holding up her hand, she closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't want to talk about it, Vis. Not now."

"Alright sis," he placed his arm across her shoulders, "just say the word if your brothers need to 'wake the dragon' on someone's ass, yeah?"

She nodded and couldn't help the little smile that crossed her lips.

Giving her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the head he whispered, "you know where to find me when you're ready."

Her sweet brother. Always loving and protective. Both of them though she was closer with Vis than Rhae. Could be very funny too, but couldn't think of that now. She could feel the anger coursing through her veins, needing to project it somewhere. She just couldn't deal with it right now.

"And what's with all the fucking elfs and gnomes and lights and relentless singing everywhere?! The noise. Oh the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!", she cried out. Pissed off at Christmas because of an asshole? Good choice Dany, not a cliché at all. At. All! She rolled her eyes at herself.

"'tis the season", replied Tyrion calmly. "So just hakuna your tatas there for a sec 'Grinch'."

"'tis the season", she said mockingly, "yeah season for all the rats to crawl out of the sewer. Hope the turtles are enjoying the peace and quiet. I know I would!" She knew she sounded bitter but she couldn't find it in her heart to care. Not now. "Besides", she continued, "it was Halloween like last week! No reason to break out Santa and the reindeers just yet if you asked me."

"It was Halloween a few weeks ago...and no one asked thus the lovely cheery decorations everywhere", Tyrion said sarcastically. In the background Tormund muttered something about reindeers and farting.

She sighed again staring at the glass in front of her. He's not worth your anger either, Dany. Just drag your ass to bed, sleep it off and start afresh tomorrow. Gently pushing the still full glass away she slid down from the stool. Staggering a bit she blinked a few times trying to gain her balance.

Davos' gentle voice sounded behind her, "I'll have this added to your tab Dany-girl, don't worry."

She gave him a half-hearted thumps-up.

When he stretched his arm over the bar and padded her on the shoulder she reached her own hand up and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. Thanks, Dadvos.

The old sailor had a good heart. He had landed on their shores some 12-13 years ago with a badly infected leg wound. In the end Dr. Stark had to amputate the leg below the knee to save Mr. Seaworth's life. Having lost his own family to war he had dedicated his life to helping others caught in the same kind of chaos. On that fateful night his ship docked in King's Landing he had been dragged into the ER by a shouting Gendry. They'd barely managed to dock before Davos had collapsed. What no one knew at the time was that the ship was loaded with Dothrakhi refugees. Scared, hungry, many wounded, and almost all of them seasick, but what parent wasn't willing to risk almost anything to save the lives of their children? Even crossing the poisoned water if it meant safety.

Gendry, being Gendry, had of course confessed to Dr. Stark after a day or two not knowing what else to do or where else to go. So her mom and Dr. Stark had pulled a few strings and somehow managed to get DA Tyrell (current President Tyrell) to reward Mr. Seaworth with amnesty for his heroic actions instead of being charged with human trafficking. They had showed up at the docks with food, water and meds for the refugees before sending them over to Dragonstone where a Dothrakhi community had long been established.  

Since then the Stark pack, Vis and herself had basically adopted Davos as their uncle, or 'Dadvos' as they lovingly grew to call him. Not entirely trusting his footing with an artificial leg he had given up sailing; not for good but no more rescue missions. Instead he and Tyrion had established a little pub which served as the front end of their 'shelter for cripples, bastards and broken things' as Tyrion proudly referred to it. Hot Pie and Gendry had been the first beneficiaries — Hot Pie had been sent to culinary school and now worked as head-chef at the pub. Overseeing trainees was part of the job description but Gendry and Davos made sure to alway be around. Hot Pie was a good guy, but a few sandwiches short of a picnic so to speak, so some of the kids liked to try to play tricks on him once in a while. Something that did not sit well with Dadvos! Gendry helped work the bar and being a pretty good handyman as well he would fix up whatever needed a brush up here and there. And Tyrion? Well, being a Lannister he obviously provided the cash, and though being trained as a psychologist, he also managed the business side of the pub. Loving every second of it. The heart of the place was Davos himself - always ready to listen, play games, give advise, or simply let people have their space.

Reaching the door, bag in hand she heard Tormund call out to her, "Whatever stupid shit the fucker did, where I'm from his woman would cut off his cock and wear it on a string around her neck as a trophy!"

"A pecker that small could never be anyone's trophy", she replied dryly stepping out in the snow.

Out in the cold she remembered why cold weather and alcohol is such a bad mix. You only feel warm because of the booze, Dany, don't let your body fool you. She could feel her head buzzing. Breathe! Stay focused! Luckily the hospital and thus the Stark and Targaryen residence was just across the street.

Watching the ground as she walked trying to steady her steps in the slippery snow, she didn't notice the man coming towards her. Inevitably they collided in the hospital foyer.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"My apologies, miss!"

With the speed of light a strong arm was wrapped around her back preventing her from falling on her ass. Looking up she saw a familiar face.

"Commander Selmy", she smiled, "what a surprise! Sorry for, literally, bumping into you like this."

"Could say the same to you, Dr. Targaryen." He removed his arm from her back and gently resting his hand on her upper arm. "Was just informed that you weren't expected back until tomorrow or, technically, later today." He smiled back at her.

She cleared her throat. "Yes well, complications arose, ensued, were overcome."

Narrowing his eyes slightly Commander Selmy gave her a long inquisitive look. She did her best to look back at him with as much confidence as she could muster at this hour. Just breathe, Dany. Whatever you do he'll know something's up anyway. Whatever his conclusion he just gave her a tight nod and warm smile.

"Right, I best be on my way now, have something for the lab." He lifted his hand slightly holding up a paper-bag.

"Oh? Has there been any trouble here?" She looked around the foyer for any signs of an altercation of some form, but saw nothing other than the usual few anxious relatives and a couple of nurses sitting behind the reception desk working quietly.

"There was a serious traffic accident earlier in the evening. A family of five was brought in, but no ID's so..." He trailed off. When anyone was admitted to the hospital without any kind of identification fingerprints and blood samples were taken to hopefully verify the individuals' identity that way.

"So standard operating procedure was followed. Got it!" She nodded absentmindedly eyes again scanning her surroundings. "But why you though?" Her head shot up, eyebrows furrowed, giving him a puzzled look. "It's usually something the City Watch handles, but you're Commander of the Gold Cloaks. Must be very high priority." She  tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. What in the Seven Hells is going on?

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes looking over and behind her clearly avoiding direct eye contact. Looking very uncomfortable he cleared his throat and said, "Just a precaution. Wish you a good night Dr. Targaryen." He was out the doors before she could respond. What the fuck was that about?!

As she crossed to the private lift at the back of the foyer she was approached by Margaery.

"Dany! Didn't think you—"

"—you'd be back until tomorrow, yeah I know", she finished exasperated.

Margaery gave her an amused look trying to hide a smile. "Won't ask", she said smiling holding up her hands as if surrendering. "Since you're here though would you be up for doing me a favour?"

"What's up?"

"Grey is currently sitting watch at a dog we got in this evening. The poor thing was in a terrible vehicle accident. Thing is he's beginning to wake up and..." Margaery looked at her expectantly.

"And you'd like me to go have a look to see if I'm going to get my head bit off, is that it?" she asked with a smirk while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Exactly!" Margaery grinned.

"Give me the headlines as we walk." Work! Nothing focuses the mind like work! Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much? Who do you think you're kidding, Dany, that's exactly why you love your job! That and you get to help. Helping does make me feel useful. She could feel the anger from earlier slowly began to subside, her body felt more relaxed. The alcohol had done it's job now it was time for her to do hers, and with a task at hand she quickly felt sober again. Strange how the mind can clear up like that. Damn it Dany, pay attention to Marg now!

"He came in sedated so we had to work quickly. The x-rays only showed a broken front leg. Lots of bumps and bruises though and some burns, but overall just getting away from that alive is a miracle."

"How so?"

"According to Tormund the vehicle took a tumble downhill and burst into flames."

She gasped in shock. Poor guy! "What about the rest of the family?"

Margaery waited as she dropped her bag off by the door to their break-room. She heard Margaery sigh next to her. The normally optimistic woman was clearly hesitant.

"They didn't exactly get away that easily." Another heavy sigh. "The man was patched up by Dr. Lannister and is currently stable and expected to wake up sometime within the next few days. His wife on the other hand..." She trailed off and dropped her eyes to the floor.

Her heart dropped. Oh gods! "She didn't make it." The words came out only as a whisper.

Margaery closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Sadly no." She lifted her head again and looked at Dany, "but Dr. Martell and Robb were able to save the babies so I guess there's a bit of a silver-lining?"

"Babies? She was pregnant? How far along was she?!" She could feel her eyes grow big in horror. Does this story just keep getting worse?!

"Robb said based on weight and length they estimate she was about 36 weeks, so based on that alone the babies are quite well and safe." Oh thank the Gods, but there's a 'but' there's always a 'but'. "But" Yup, fucking knew it. "because of the rolling, falling and  various hits their mother suffered Dr. Martell wants to keep them under observation for a while just to make sure they're as good as can be. Robb's up there with them now."

"Wow! Can't even imagine what it must be like for him when he wakes up." She couldn't find any words to describe how she felt for that man somehow losing and gaining everything the same night.

They walked in silence until they reached the pens at the back of the vet wing. The smaller animals had cages where they could rest and heal, but the bigger ones had a pen. Basically fences only about 50 cm high as the animals kept there were not in a condition to stand up on their own, and this way also made it easier for the caretakers to check on them, change bandages etc.

In the pen in front of her was a big fluffy ball of white fur with two red eyes squarely fixed on Grey. He's gorgeous! Teeth barred and a low growling.

"Hey there sweetheart", she said tenderly as she carefully stepped in front of Grey. "I know this is scary. Unknown surroundings, unknown humans, and bet that foot of yours hurt too." She was gently guiding Grey away from her and towards Margaery and the door. "I'm sure those wounds on your leg and shoulder is stinging as well." She kept talking in a calm and gentle tone until the dog stopped growling.

"Atta boy, just breathe, I won't let anyone hurt you." She was holding a palm against the fence letting him get a proper sniff.

Glancing towards Margaery she asked, "do we know his name?"

"His name tag said 'Ghost' which by the looks of him is a very fitting name I'd say."

Grey smiled and nodded.

"Ghost", she whispered. The dog looked up. Didn't care when Marg said your name? "Hmm like my voice, do you?" She couldn't help the smile forming on her lips.

She opened the gate of the pen and took a seat in the corner next to the dog's head. A bold move but a necessary one. For a few tense seconds the dog just laid there looking at her. Then, as if he'd made up his mind about something, he put his head in her lap.

She carefully stroked his head and neck. "I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family," she whispered, "and I promise we're all doing everything we can to make you feel better."

She moved a bit lower so that Ghost was resting his head on her stomach. That way she could rest a bit as well.

Last thing she heard before dozing off was Grey's voice, "How does she do that?"

[rarestereocats]

All of us,  except for Beldroth,  reconvene at the local church come morning.  While we spend some time shooting the shit and getting ready for the day,  Beldroth figures we're all out and about looking for the sewer's entrance;  so he takes the map Sanctity had provided us and goes to find it himself.  Upon finding it,  he decides to mark it off on the map even though it was already marked and patiently waits for us all to arrive.  So without a map or a helpful elven guide,  the rest of us are left to wander the streets for hours until we finally spot him just waiting around by the riverside.  Once again,  doors prove to the bane of any adventuring party's existence as for minutes;  nobody can figure out where the door is into the sewers.  All we see is a barred off entry point and we're s t u m p e d.

But eventually after some prime investigating on my part which simply involved manhandling this entry way,  I find the latch that keeps the gate locked and pop it open for our us.  The sewers are just as disgusting as expecting.  Waste of all kind floating throughout this chamber and no way around it...except for Sam,  who flies over it.  Beldroth,  unwilling to get dookie water on himself,  tries to parkour around it despite there being nothing to parkour onto.  So he splashes back down and manages to coat us all before we finally find some proper paths to step on that aren't caked in shit.  One path leads to danger in the form of man-eating spiders while the other path leads to a safehouse so Beldroth approaches and knocks on the door.  A nervous woman answers and instead of being normal for once in our lives,  Torik tries to ask her about her ancestors,  which earns him a door slammed in his face.  Things immediately take a turn for the worse as Sam kicks the door so hard that he knocks it right off its hinges and sends it falling right into the fireplace.

The people inside are understandably panicked as these are the poor and homeless of Phoenix Down,  most of them unable to fend for themselves as they start screaming.  Torik tries to calm the room down,  but in his frustration,  ends up yelling at them which has me popping off as I charge into the room with my greataxe out as I yell at them that I'm a city guard so they need to get on the ground.  Two brave souls race inside with shoddily made weapons and demand to know what's going on and finally,  the situation is defused to a degree so we can start interrogating them all about Bluebird.  They don't have anything of use on the tiefling as they haven't seen them in days.  So with that,  we make our leave and find the corpse of a human man slumped over by a ladder.  Torik tries to find anything that could identify him or be given back to possible family,  only finding a coin on a necklace and a vial of questionable contents;  but we don't have time to stop and look it over.

We head down the ladder and he casts an augury to see if the path that looks promising is a good idea to head down.  No response,  which means it's neither good nor bad.  So rather than a pick a more promising path,  we head down this one,  the door opening up to reveal a startled goblin who starts questioning us all.  Girk,  as he introduces himself as,  asks us why we're even here.  Torik fibs,  stating we need to see Bluebird as we have something to sell.  That something being my axe and I panic,  not catching onto the lie and proceeding to ruin it.  But Girk doesn't care,  instead inviting us inside and introducing us to a few of his friends as we all sit down to discuss this matter over dinner.  Tonight's special is broiled rats with tree roots and Sam is offended as the rest of us actually eat this and pretend to enjoy it.  He tosses his aside when no one's looking,  sulking and growing self-conscious of his own cooking the entire time;  even after Torik reassures him that he's the better cook than Scrumpus.

Girk and the goblins saw Bluebird come into the sewers last night and they seemed to be in a hurry.  There's no telling where they could be at down here now though,  so Sam bribes him with a gold coin and says he can have it so long as he guides us through the sewers and right to them.  Girk is more than happy about this arrangement,  calling over his friend Plinter to help us out and in no time;  we're led right to Bluebird's little hideout.  They knock a pattern onto the wall and a brick pulls away,  revealing a pair of golden eyes staring back at us as they say that we don't look like the people they're meeting.  Torik tells us all to keep our mouths shut so he can handle the talking,  which is fine by me as I can't lie for shit.  He says we're totally the right people,  but we had to come in disguise to avoid suspicion,  which Bluebird surprisingly buys.  They invite us into their office,  but before we all step inside,  Sam hands a gold coin to Girk as promised.  The goblin's excited as fuck for a single coin and as he shows it off to Plinter,  I feel bad that the little dude didn't get something himself,  so I hand a coin to him as well.

Now we've properly ensured that these goblins will die for us and you know what?  I'd die for them too,  okay?  Negotiations with Bluebird fall apart the minute they ask for 5000 gold for the All-Seeing Eye.  In case you're not aware,  none of us are carrying that much wealth around and unfortunately,  the coin necklace isn't enough to convince them that we're indeed rich;  so the entire lie collapses in on itself until Heilyn's mentioned.  This has them stopping in their tracks and reconsidering everything as they need help breaking him out of prison before he's transferred to Kilan.  We agree to this caravan heist a little too quickly and once Bluebird marks a meeting place off on Beldroth's stunning map of the main road,  they leave and we quickly need a way to get out of the city to pull this off.  Luckily,  the lord's steward provides us with permission slips when we lie to his face and say we have to chase the thief down out of town and he tells us we better be back in two days time or he'll send a posse after us.

We try and decide whether we should sneak out of town as the slips become active once we leave,  so if no one ever sees us leave,  we could be gone for as long as we like without having to worry about becoming fugitives.  But we have until morning to meet Bluebird,  so time is of the essence.  The guards mark our slips and off we go,  meeting them a mile off the main road to go figure out a plan of action.  Sam suggests that I should approach the guards and convince them to hand the prisoner over and I'm a little too confident that'll work.  Bluebird and Beldroth will form an ambush point in case that doesn't work out,  but once they mention that we'll have to kill the guards in that case,  I'm not so thrilled about this.  Torik gives me a much needed pep talk and come morning,  the other two get in position while me,  Torik,  and Sam get our crests affixed to our armor and head out on our horses to stop the incoming prison wagon.

When these guards ask what we're up to,  we flash our badges and spin our lie.  I state that the boss lady sent us out to personally escort the prisoner back to Fragifell as she got reports of a possible raid.  Wannabe gangsters wanting to get at Heilyn as well as Bluebird,  who the guards have heard of.  I tell them the boss wants them to be a decoy,  distracting the enemies while we slip off with the prisoner without any of them noticing and the guards surprisingly believe me.  They warn us to be careful as Heilyn's dangerous before pulling him out of the wagon,  cuffed and still with a bag over his head;  and hand him over without further questions.  Sam gets him up on one of the horses as we depart,  telling them we'll take a shortcut through the forest to throw our pretend raiders off.  Once the guards are out of sight,  we bring Heilyn over,  trade him off for the All-Seeing Eye,  and once the lovebirds depart;  Beldroth goes ahead to inspect the artifact.  We get to see his eyes roll into the back of his head,  which is never a good sign when you touch ancient artifacts,  and he collapses;  Sam racing forward to catch him before he hits the ground.

Meanwhile,  Beldroth enters the dream world which takes him back to the forests he grew up in.  He presses on through them until he reaches a raised stand with five shrouded figures sitting on it and watching his every move.  They're the elven council that he's told us about briefly.  The same council he wants to be a part of and the sole reason he sought out the artifact in the first place.  Problem for him is they want him to do a hell of a lot more before he can join them,  saying that he needs seek out the Hammer of Radiance and conquer the Sands of Time.  He has no idea what the latter one means,  but they offer no explanation.  They say the information he needs is in Fragifell and then impart one last piece of wisdom onto him before he wakes up.  "Trust in your friends and beware of your allies.".

He wakes up and understandably,  Torik confiscated the Eye on the off-chance it fucked him up hardcore.  We hit with a bunch of inane questions to make sure it's still him,  but we're a little worried he got a concussion when he starts talking about his vision.  But Torik's excited about hearing of the Hammer of Radiance again and the others decide that it's best not to return to Phoenix Down and return the All-Seeing Eye to the royal archives.  I'm not happy about this because this will officially make us fugitives to their law and I'm now at risk of losing my job,  but Torik pulls me aside for another pep talk,  telling me I'm more than just a guard now.  This doesn't compute for me,  but I don't question it any further and with that,  we hit the road for Fragifell once more.  Upon arriving and stepping into Lord Crows office,  we think the smile on his face means everything's okay,  but it's clear everything's not okay at all when he goes off on us for being stupid and tarnishing his already shaky reputation in Phoenix Down.

He's also pissed about Heilyn "escaping" and while I can lie to some guards I don't know that well,  I can't lie to the literal boss of my boss (who also looks disappointed with us all),  but all I say is that we know where he and Bluebird are.  I give him the name of the small town they told us they hide out in frequently and after some more talking,  Lord Bros says he'll try to smooth things over and keep the law of Phoenix Down off of our backs,  provided we spend a week in prison.  Beldroth has a quick conversation about the All-Seeing Eye with him as we hand over our possessions,  and gives the lord a nice handful of pocket sand as he mentions the Sands of Time.  It's at this point,  probably,  that Lord Crows realizes that every single one of us is a complete dumbass,  but rather than dwell on it right now;  he has us escorted to our prison cells.

[sergeant-morozov]

Outpost (Metro OCs)

The reich outpost seemed quiet, the lamps on the soldiers' helmets were the only things Nika could see in the dark. Night was falling down quickly over the destroyed scenery and it made the red sniper hurry with his plan, his plan was to get some critical information from the outpost and return with documents and anything that could help fight the reich in the tunnels and on the surface. Nika sneaked around the fences to find any weak points which could give him a "backdoor" entry, as he got closer to the front gate of the tall wire fence a light shined his eyes and he heard yelling from the other side. As the bullets started flying the sniper ran for cover and soon the outpost was rattled like a hornet's nest, soldiers running across the yard. The electricity on the fence was turned off and the main gate got opened, soon the outside of the gated area was also flooded with alerted enemies. Nika saw his only opportunity to get in and he jumped against the fence then quickly climbed to the other side, landing into a bush. A soldier heard the sticks crackling and came running towards the bush, Nika however stayed still and waited for the soldier to notice him. After the slight touch of the soldier's glove the sniper grabbed the soldier and pulled him into the bush before strangling him unconscious. Nika teared off the uniform and wore it on top of his own clothing, he even hid his sniper rifle and took the soldier's gun. He then joined the hunt for the intruder and stayed with a random small group of soldiers who took him as one of them immediately.

Then everyone started calming down and continuing their patrols and such but the undercover sniper started his spying mission by walking in to report some false information so that he could get close to the possible documents and maybe even eavesdrop some calls between the outpost generals. As he was walking in the broken apartment ruin's hallway he walked past a heavy gunner who immediately stopped walking after Nika passed him, the sniper didn't think much of it but the gunner however continued to tailgate him slowly with some distance. The sniper heard someone yelling about the "false intruder alarm" and got closer to the doorway, he started acting as if he was guarding the doorway while trying his best to catch anything important from the yelling. "Guten abend, kamerad." Nika could hear a fake friendly voice right next to him and snapped to look towards the person next to him, a heavy gunner with his hands behind his lower back and a shotgun pipe pointing up behind his shoulder. "What?" Nika looked confused which only got the reich gunner to cross his arms over his chest. "You don't know German?" The gunner's smug voice got Nika to get annoyed of the taller man. "No, don't you have a round to make?" Nika growled at the gunner who then harshly put his hand on the sniper's shoulder. "Why are you just standing there like a donkey? Shouldn't YOU be patrolling near the fence, hm?" The gunner's low voice got Nika to fear that his cover was about to blow, he pushed the gunner's hand off of his shoulder and chuckled nervously; "Hahhah- Yeeah, but I got commanded here after the alert. My friend is in there to report the- uh- thing." But the enemy wasn't having that and grabbed Nika by the vest before dragging him away from the headquarters. The sniper tried to resist but it was useless, he couldn't straight up struggle because it would attract more eyes onto him and therefore more questions and suspicion.

"You really should reconsider your job.." The gunner said under his low breath and shoved the sniper into a small office with nothing else in it than a desk and few bookshelves. Nika tripped on his legs and fell to the floor, the door was closed and lightly barricaded with a small rotten couch which the heavy gunner pushed in front of the door. The sniper got up from the floor and rushed over to the gunner but before he could even say anything he received a nasty punch to his face which got his nose bleeding. "What the fuck comrade?! I'm one of you!" Nika yelled while still trying to maintain his cover but the gunner took his shotgun from his back and pointed it at the sniper. "Comrade? Fucking commie.." The gunner walked slowly towards the sniper who's cover was by now definitely exposed, Nika started taking steps back to keep a safe distance to the heavily armored enemy until his lower back hit the edge of the office table in the middle of the room. "You really don't know how well I know the faces in here? I work here every other day!" The gunner tried to hit Nika to the head with the butt of the gun but the sniper dodged it in time and the gunner dented the table. Nika moved closer to the bookshelves and waited for the enemy to get closer to him, the sniper saw some books that he could use to hit the enemy. "Well that sucks, a boring life for a dumb bitch like you who can't keep his nose out from other people's businesses." Nika intentionally tried to annoy the enemy but the gunner stayed cool, the sniper slyly grabbed a book but before he could even lift it, the gunner shoulder charged at him and almost squished him against the shelves, it got him to lose all air and cough his lungs out while dropping to his knees. "Pathetic rat, you're nothing but bad luck!" The gunner kicked the sniper down to his side and with a quick stomp he got the sniper's thumb dislocated and his wrist injured.

Nika tried his hardest to not whine or yelp from the pain, it would only make the outpost fire up again and get himself executed. Then he noticed the window with few boards blocking it, with quick observation he could easily tell that the boards weren't well nailed to the frames and probably had started to rot from the radiated and acidic rain. He got up from the floor but was held back by the gunner who then slammed the sniper against the damaged bookshelf. "You ruined my opportunity to get payed better! Oh, I'll remember that forever- all the mocking I got when walking back to the station with no computer!" The gunner took a hold of the sniper's throat and began to tighten his grip around the communist's neck, Nika was gasping for air and clawing the gunner's forearms. He even tried to kick the gunner but his armor plates took most of the impact, rendering the kicks also useless- it was as if he couldn't do anything to the enemy. In the midst of his panic Nika spotted three throwing knives on the gunner's waist belt and with his uninjured arm he snatched one knife and struck it straight into the gunner's right forearm. The gunner let go of the sniper to rip off the knife but while doing so Nika had slipped away and was tearing off the boards from the window frame. One board came off and made an opening big enough for Nika to crawl through but once getting his upper body outside, he got pulled back in by the angered gunner. Now Nika could feel the same knife he stabbed the gunner with against his Adam's apple and the gunner wrapping his other arm around his stomach to keep him close. "You're not leaving this time." The gunner's whisper near Nika's ear was enough to freeze the sniper on spot. "Conrad- was it? Heh. We could sort things out right?" Nika's voice was getting shaky by every passing second but Conrad wasn't going to let him go. "No, you're staying here with me."

The sniper had another "brilliant" idea but he had to act fast in order for it to work. "I still have my cyanide pills, bitch. I'll just pop them when you're not looking." Nika hissed back and Conrad was fast to take his knife off of the sniper's throat and turn his face towards his own. "Give them to me." Conrad held Nika's head up by pulling the hair on the back of the sniper's head but his gas mask's goggles were soon splattered with blood as the sniper spit the blood that had bled down to his lips and mouth. "You little bitch!" Conrad landed his last hit onto the side of the communist's face and while wiping off the blood, Nika made his escape through the window. He ran through the shadows to retrieve his belongings from the bush and just as he got to the bush, the alarms went off again. He quickly threw the rifle over his shoulder with one arm and barely climbed the fence and ran towards the nearest sewer or tunnel entry. He gained nothing but injuries from his spying attempt.

[def-march]

ANCIENTS

Characters: Joshua and 777 Length: 11 google docs pages (approximately 4200 words) Desc: a small fic I made for @the-composer <3 Love ya, H!!

Summary: Just as the iconic era of the 80s was ending, 777 had died alongside his two best friends, Tenho and BJ. Struggling to make ends meet in their new life as a trio of Support Reapers, they’re visited one evening by a mysterious stranger with orders to retrieve the singer, and bring him face to face with non other then the Composer himself for a little “talk.”

“Seven, do you remember when we first met?”

The punk glanced at Joshua, trying to formulate thoughts in how he was going to answer as he cracked open one of the beers he brought along. 777’s eyebrows furrowed as he took a sip of his bitter drink.

“Ya finally invite me t’yer special place on 104 just to talk?” He grunted, “lame.”

“But, do you?”

777 sighed with a smile as he put his drink down on the ledge beside him. The city suddenly seemed to have quieted down from in top of the tall building, even though he knew it wasn't the case. Time felt slowed and muddled until he opened his eyes once more.

“Really, Joshie, ya think I can forget that easily? Give me some credit here, dude.”

------

When the doorbell rang in the middle of the day, everyone in the trio was tense that it could have been another eviction. (There's really not much room in a city like Shibuya, and besides, three youthful Support Reapers weren't immune to the rules of the living. They were a handful of trouble for everyone they knew.)

It was Tenho who answered the door after the 3rd ring, revealing the tall man in the snakeskin suit and flowing black hair. However, the most unnerving were the eyes, completely shielded away with glasses that were tinted so dark, a starless sky would look bright.

“W-who are you?” Tenho felt his voice shake, even though a part of him knew that this person was not alive by any means of the word.

Without any other words, the stranger moved past Tenho and BJ, despite cries of protest of not inviting the stranger in for starters. The way which he walked was silent, and filled with Grace as he made his way to the younger 777 sitting in the couch, arms crossed with a fierce scowl.

“Your presence is requested.”

“I ain't goin’ anywhere.” The young adult replied, narrowing his eyes as he glared daggers and tightened the grip he had on his red sweater. “I refuse.”

“That isn't very advisable.”

“I don't care!” The scowl grew into a snarl, hackles rising like a dog. “I don't know you, so why should I trust ya? Ya just can't walk right into my damn house, for fucks sake!”

“I was requested to retrieve the Support Reaper who has been causing problems. You seem to not know the meaning of 'respect,” Sven Saintclaire.”

“What did you call me?” 777 bared his teeth as he snapped right up onto his feet, hands clenched. He could feel the heartbeat in his ears. He could see his two friends from the corners of his eyes, faces concerned about the situation, unknowing what to do of the stranger, and of the fury that 777 harvested.

“YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT T’CALL ME THAT!” The young singer shrieked, throwing a punch at the man. Without hesitation,  the man caught the blow and twisted the hand harshly to the side, earning a cry of pain from 777 as he dropped to his knees, glaring up at the other.

It really hasn't been that long since he became a Reaper. After his Game, he knew that he desperately had to work on his temper and.nit jump straight to violence, but really this dude just waltzed into his house like he owned the damn place! How was he supposed to react?!

“I did warn you, it was inadvisable.” The black haired man glowered at the boy, who shrunk down out of fear. “For someone who interests the Composer, you are a brat.”

---

777 followed the intruder, not really paying attention to the direction they were heading, as he was fixated on the person himself, observing the calm and collected movements he made with every stride.

Rain was beginning to fall in the form of a light mist. The way the water interacted with the Underground was peculiar. He could feel the cold wetness as the droplets fell, but they never landed on him. It passed right through, leaving 777 dry. Despite being part of the UG for just over half a year now, whenever it rained he was either inside or on the plane of the RG. He shivered.

This new life he accepted was...strange for lack of better words.

777 looked up again, and to his surprise Megumi had turned his head to look at the rock star wannabe, piercing golden eyes peering out of the side of his glasses, causing 777’s heart to halt and jostle around in surprise. “Your staring is impolite; I suggest now that refrain from it when you meet Him.”

“Where else am I supposed to look? I've been livin’ in this dump of a city before I died long enough, I know where shit is.” 777 spat with a grunt, digging his hands further into the sweaters pockets.

Megumi was silent, and then he turned his head away and continued walking without acknowledgement of the young Reapers words.

777 frowned and resumed his pace, trailing after the other. “Ya know, ya never told me yer name.”

“Apologies, it must have slipped my mind. My name is Megumi Kitaniji… and yourself?”

“Cut that politeness shit, Meggy, you already know my name…”

Megumi couldn't hide the displeasure in his face at his new nickname, his nose wrinkling up with disdain, but ultimately decided to ignore it, getting this Support Reaper to Him  was already proving difficult enough. “Yes, it is Sve-”

“Like, the hell it is! I refuse to be called by that anymore! That's the old me!”

“It is what is written on your papers, it is what I will refer you as. Out of curiosity, what is your calling name then, hm?”

777 was quiet, eyes casting down on the sidewalk. Megumi stopped, causing the singer to walk right into him.

“HEY?! What gives!?”

“As I expected, you haven't thought ahead on the matter of your new name. Unfortunate.”

“No, you're fuckin’ wrong! I do have a name, asshat!”

“Then do tell.”

“Triple Seven! My name is Triple fuckin’ Seven!”

Megumi blinked in surprise, despite his facial expression remaining neutral. “Pardon?”

“You heard me! Triple Seven, like, three sevens?” 777 took his hands out of the pockets, tightening the fists until he could feel his nails digging into his skin as he looked up at Megumi, violet eyes unwavering. “MY NAME IS TRIPLE SEVEN!”

Megumi was quiet, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. This young man had such a strong vibe coming off of him, even though he has been here for a relatively short time. His personality was headstrong, as he was warned about, but it seemed to be worse than what he was even informed of. His whole character was...odd, to say the least.

“It sounds to me like you're trying to convince yourself, rather than me.”

777’s face melted into shock. Megumi was right; he was still coming to terms with his new identity after death, but before he could retort, Megumi spoke, “We have arrived.”

777 looked around, sewers, how nice. These people certainly did have shitty taste. Maybe they had tea parties with the rats. “Whatever,” he grumbled, following Megumi through the concrete passages, the smell of sewage reeked from every possible crevice.It was just one room after another, wasn't it?

He admittedly wasn't paying attention, so when they came into a bright room, that looked furnished and well, nice (even if it wasn't exactly his style,) he was a bit shocked.

“Aye, ya got booze. Nice.” 777 grinned, eyeing the bar and the many bottles on display behind it.

“Touch it, and I won't dare to hesitate on lopping your hand off.” Megumi hissed, golden eyes glaring from the sides of his shades. “I am aware you are an alcoholic. You may have a drink after, if you'd like, but you will pay for it. Come with me.”

The singer rolled his eyes, and followed, coming into a room that was suddenly spacious. A throne in the center with a glowing figure. 777 had to squint, but he did not falter beyond that.

“Interesting,” the figure spoke, his voice sounding like smooth chimes laced in silk. “You have no fear.”

“Should I? You're just like a mega sized neon light, really,” the singers voice was laced with sarcasm, clearly unimpressed. “Does only shades over there get a pair of glasses, or are ya try’na ruin my corneas?”

The Composer chuckled a bit. How entertaining this Reaper was. Not only that, but he was resilient and resisted against falling down against his powerful vibe washing over him. It was almost impressive.

“My apologies, I should have taken into account how my beauty is blinding.”

The rocker sneered as the light died down. 777 stopped squinting, eyebrows arching in surprise to see someone who's age was indefinite, but was clearly youthful, perhaps an older teenager or a young adult much like the Reaper himself, standing with a proper posture, right in front of him.

“Is this better?”

“I guess,” 777 snorted. “Ya look like a princess.”

“Do not talk to the Composer in such a manner,” Megumi spoke up, posture rigid, as if he was the one who was offended and not the pretty boy standing in front of them both.

“Megumi, relaaax, I take it as a compliment you see. I should not be seen as anything but royalty.”

“Yer porcelain skin would make a mighty fine throw rug.”

“Sir-- please,” Megumi started. “He's being rude-”

“Megumi, despite how long you have been part of the Underground, you still are extremely uncertain of your newfound status as Conductor. I suggest kindly, that you only speak when you're being referred to. Just watch, please.” Joshua sighed, rolling his eyes and placed a hand on 777’s shoulder. “Between you and me, he can be sooo protective, it's silly really. He's not new to the UG but he's  new to the position of Conductor; really needs to loosen up a bit...”

“Don't touch me.” 777 snarled, causing the Composer to take his hand off the Reapers shoulders in slight surprise.

“Got it.” He didn't really feel like getting his fingers bitten off, especially in a setting like this. He needed this Reaper to trust him, even if it was only a little bit. Provoking would only make the matter at hand worse. “No touchy touchy~”

“What d’ya want?”

“My, extremely straight to the point, aren't you?” Slightly annoying, but it gave him the impression he wouldn't have to butter up anything he said. The Reaper clearly had already come to terms that he was dead and not returning to the living. The only issue at hand may be the personal Vendetta against the one who ruled the UG.

“At least tell me who ya are, “Mr. Composer”.” The sarcasm in the singers voice definitely wasn't going anywhere, nor was the heavy air quotes he made as he spoke.

“A bit of an irritating brat, aren't you?”

“Of course; gotta keep up my rep.” 777 cracked a smile, crossing his arms. “I aim to please.”

“My name is Yoshiya Kiryu, but you may call my Joshua like the majority of those around me.” The Composer tilted his head, Ash blonde bangs falling over his face as he analyzed the Reaper. How peculiar of a personality; he really didn't care what he said to someone of authority, did he? Joshua returned a soft smile, finding that things from here on out would be entertaining, at the very least.

“I'm sure you're wondering why you're here-”

“Yeah? Kinda? I thought that part was obvious.”

Joshua rubbed his forehead, an irritated sigh leaving his mouth. Nevermind, would this be entertaining or borderline aggravating? “Will you please stop interrupting me and allow me to get straight to the point, you're only wasting your time here and prolonging the visit so be patient and kindly shut up.”

When no other smart alec comments were made, Joshua mumbled a relieved 'thank you’ to the Higher Plane. God.

“What I wanted to talk to you about was your points,” he began, clasping his hands in front of his face, his smile crumpling into that of a concerned frown. “You seem to be an exceptional Reaper of sorts, despite you not having the strongest Underground abilities, you have miraculous control of your vibe…” Joshua trailed off, listening to the music that this Reaper emitted. It was heavier than most would be, louder too, but it was steady and stable. The beat was consistent, a heart of a drum beat and a guitar solo of his heart on top of the static that was common among souls of the UG.

‘If he keeps developing at the rate he is currently,’ Joshua hummed as he thought to himself, ‘then it could very well be possible that it would only get louder and more refined; perhaps the static will vanish completely and the song will be in it's best form…’

“Is it true that you mastered the ability to shift planes within the first couple of weeks of becoming a Reaper?” Joshua couldn't help but blurt out the question. Normally Reapers took at least the first month to be able to figure out how to go back and forth between the RG and UG, and even then for those prodigies, it would still be a strain on their bodies, but here was a Reaper phasing in and out like liquid through a strainer. It was essentially effortless.

“Sorry, it's just-- you do so poor regarding most abilities in the underground. You have trouble summoning Noise, pins are almost completely useless for you, and your psyches as a Reaper are limited to brute force, but yet you somehow have extraordinary abilities in regards to your vibe and you are above the average Reaper when it comes to imprinting.”

“And?”

“And?” Joshua's sleek brows furrowed, momentarily stunned by the question. Didn't he know how atypical that was?! No, of course not, this Reaper had a brain full of songs and spare parts.

“It's absolutely fascinating!” Joshua couldn't just put it into words how intrigued he was with the other, it made him feel giddy with excitement. 777 couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in mild confusion; he wasn't around long enough to actually understand anything about him that Joshua thought was so amazing, but yet here he was, the Composer Himself acting like a preschool kid learning about dinosaurs. Joshua, catching wind if his actions, cleared his throat and straightened out his posture back to the professional facade it was before.

“I do believe you could potentially see yourself rank up if you get better in the other areas of performance, but enough of that,” Joshua paused, tapping his pursed lips with his delicate porcelain fingers in thought.

“The real reason I called you down, aside from my own fascination, was how you are with Players. You seem to be able to erase them without much of a second thought, but with others you will hold yourself back or even help them. It's not against the rules by any means, but I don't recall many Reapers, or even some at all, taking as much mercy onto the Players as yourself. Does this correlate with your abilities, by chance? Why do you do it?”

It wasn't really that hard for 777 to answer. “It's because I relate to them. I went through the Game, and I hope I became a better person because of it. They show potential, they deserve a chance to better themselves and it's going to only get harder with every passing day in the UG. They deserve that one ounce of hope.” 777 looked away, towards the ground. It felt weird hearing the words come from his mouth. It wasn't the entire truth by any means, but he hoped it would satisfy. For now, at least.

He just doesn't want anyone to go through what he did during his game. He wants to be that ounce of hope to help a Player through the day. 777 just wanted to mean something good for once.

“I think it's partially 'cuz I feel more human after the game, ‘specially compared to most Reaps that I've seen.”

Joshua's eyes widened slightly. Most Reapers would say they felt less humane, more monstrous, no longer inhibited by the rules of the living. In the Underground people could be who they truly were underneath their flesh and skin. It made sense though, here in front of him stood a Reaper who felt more human, one who not only frequented the RG, but interacted with it, taking pity on it and the people who walked that plane.

“We we're all human once, but when I was alive I stripped myself of my own humanity earlier than most would. The Game showed me how I was before was just. Wrong. That's not the way a human should act, no one should be like how I was.”

“We were all...human...once…” Joshua repeated the words slowly along his tongue. They felt foreign on his lips, like trying a new dish from another culture and being unsure of the taste. Was it like or dislike? Too spicy or too sweet?

“You seem to have a good grasp on yourself as a person.”

777 couldn't help but burst out laughing. “If I did, I don't think I'd even be dead!”

“True.” Joshua hummed. “May I ask what was your entry fee to the game?”

“My voice. Not just my physical voice, but my metaphorical one, too. I couldn't ever bring m’self t’ try and bring out what I really thought and wanted to say.”

“How unfortunate. And the fee you have after becoming a Reaper?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you feel discontent because of it? Not knowing the fee you lost to become who you are now?”

“I think bein’ a Reap was the bes’ thing to ever happen in my life.” A pause. “Unlife.”

“After life,” corrected Joshua.

“Whatever.”

“And why might that be?” Joshua asked. He could already guess the answer, he just wanted to hear it for himself. A confirmation of sorts, just to know how he should approach the Reaper in the future, if this Reaper would allow him to, anyways.

“I get a new identity. I get to be better than what I was before I died.” 777 looked to the side. “I can achieve my dreams like this, without havin’ 'em be wasted away t’ nothin’.”

“What dreams are those?”

“I wanna be a rockstar. I wanna influence people, show 'sm they're not alone in the world, that there's people jus’ as angry as 'em, just as upset as 'em, and together we can make a difference.” 777 narrowed his eyes, looking back at Joshua. “I don't fuckin’ know why I'm tellin’ ya all of this, I don't even know ya.”

“You know my name.”

“And nothing else.” 777 snorted, crossing his arms. “My turn to ask questions, then.”

Joshua blinked in surprise. He really didn't think the tables would turn so sharply onto himself, but he should have at least  guessed as much, considering how the Support Reaper was acting.

“Do you have any dreams?”

“I've been dead for a long time, and I am the godly influence of a city, I don't think I have time for dreams--”

“Thats bullshit!” Joshua stumbled back in surprise at the sudden hostility and passion that was in the others voice. “Everyone's gotta have dreams, if you're older ya jus’ had more time t’plan yer attack an’ tackle em!”

“I do suppose, you may be right.”

“I know I'm right,” snorted 777, a smirk on his face. “Ya may be dead but that don't mean ya can't feel alive.”

“That's rich in itself, coming from someone who has stated they feel more human.”

“Bold of ya t'assume that feelin’ human meant like ya felt alive.”

Joshua frowned at those words. They had only just met, and this guy got it; he understood. Humans don't have to feel alive, they do not even have to feel. They just had to be, and continue being. Not one person in the world wished themselves alive, but many wished themselves dead.

777 could say that he didn't have a grasp on who he was as a person all he wanted, but he had a grasp on emotions and how they functioned, whether he realized it or not. You didn't need a reason to feel the way you do, you just had to exist. Did it often make sense? Of course not, but the world wasn't black and white and things were changing and evolving so much that it made the Composers head spin in circles the more he thought about it.

But really; what was going on in that mind of the singer? A sense of feelings but not a sense of self; the emotion of anger but where was the guilt?

Joshua pushed a strand of his Ash blonde hair behind his ear, watching the singer in an unnerving silence. Neither of them spoke, but each of their minds was frantically thinking. When should I go? Do I let him stay?

The Composer breathed in, an idea trickling through his head. Why would he doesn't and wonder about what the other was thinking when he could see for himself? He had control over the UG, after all, he could just scan the Reaper and send him on his way, back to whatever shit hole he crawled out from.

Joshua closed his eyes and concentrated, feathers falling from his wings as he explored the mind's eye. There was nothing there.

Almost nothing.

He could see a door, locked and chained shut with an animal in front, growling through bared teeth and intense violet eyes that shone through a fury that was masked with rage, but hidden underneath was the familiar defensiveness of fear.

Triple Seven here, Joshua thought, with the lull of a sadness that he and the singer shared, but we're no strangers of. Is afraid of opening up...

Suddenly, the vision shattered like glass as he was knocked out of his meditative state. Stunned and falling to his knees, he could barely register what had happened. He reached a hand up to his face, feeling the warm, sticky blood gushing out his nose and between his finger tips.

“--SIR!”

Joshua waved his hand, signaling that he was fine, that Megumi should stand down and out of the way. He looked back up at 777, mouth agape in shock.

“You felt that?”

“I dunno, but did ya feel that, bitch?” 777 shouted, both hands clenched as his sides, as if he was prepared to through another punch. Blood dripped down from his right fit into the floor.

“Don't  fuckin’ try to scan me if yer preachin’ 'bout trust an’ shit if ya don't act on it! Ya want me to trust ya, and respect ya and whatever else bullshit ya want, yer gonna have to earn it like a normal fuckin’ person!”

Joshua's face of shock melted into a small giggle, before molding into a full blown laughing fit. He didn't care about the searing pain he had of a broken nose, he didn't care about Megumi frantically wanting to help him. This was definitely more entertaining that he had anticipated, he really just couldn't help but laugh in response.

The pain, the anger, this Reaper really was so human compared to the hardened Composer, he couldn't help but laugh at how alive he felt, tears forming in his eyes as he snorted. Joshua wiped the blood out from under his nose, starting at his bloodied hand, still laughing to himself.

“I can't believe you hit me.”

“I got more where that came from is ya decide to pull that shit again.”

Joshua looked up, back to his hand and the concrete floor, covered with blood drips, and back to 777. The smile never left his face as he got up, offering the singer his gentle hand as a truce. “I'll keep you under my watchful gaze.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 777 snorted, looking at the hand and rolling his eyes. Yeah right, he wasn't going to take it from such a prissy boy, Composer or not. Spinning around in his heels, he turned to walk in the other direction-- away.

“Wait! The Composer hasn't dismissed you yet!” Megumi called out, taking a few steps forwards, only to be stopped as Joshua held his arm out, blocking the Conductors charge.

“Let him be.” Joshua said, glancing at Megumi and back to the Support Reaper, waving his hand in farewell at him.

“Goodbye, Triple Seven! Until we meet again!~”

“Ya didn't call me Sven.” 777 looked over his shoulder in surprise, stopping his walk to turn around and stare. Even though Joshua was socked in the face, there was still warmth to his icy cold facade, deep in his mulberry eyes.

“Of course not.” Joshua smiled softly. “This is who you are now.”

---

“I remember the outcome going a bit differently, don't you think? I distinctly recall you grovelling at my feet, kissing the very ground I walk on.”

“Duh, you probably had a goddamn concussion thanks to my fist.” 777 rolled his eyes, finishing off the can of beer in his hand and tossing it down the roof of 104, eyes following up as it fell until it could be seen no more. “We've known each other for a long time now, huh? Man, we're so fuckin’ old…”

“Absolutely ancient.”

[babyspooks]

Can we get more protective Shane? (Maybe mafia Shane’s reaction to Ryan hiding behind him since someone touched Ryan without permission) :xx

Just the idea of Ryan standing behind a protective Shane makes my heart want to bust ten nuts

Just by looking at the guy, Shane can tell he’s sleazy. There’s no possible way that he would be stupid enough to go through a deal with someone who looks like a sewer rat, and he means that in the nicest way possible. They had met in a club, Ryan by Shane’s side as always, to do a trade and buy of weapons. Unsurprisingly the weapons Shane’s opposition produced were total duds, and were nothing worth trading or buying. Shane’s quick to cut to the chase, alerting the sleaze ‘Chad’ that the deal is over and that he doesn’t wish to buy any of his merchandise. Chad doesn’t take too well to that.

“Dude, you can’t just come to my fuckin’ deal and not buy anything!” He speaks so informally that Shane wants to laugh or knock him out. It makes sense though, who the fuck is going to take ‘Chad the gangster’ seriously?“Good try, kid,” Shane chuckles, enlacing his fingers with Ryan. He tugs him off the couch and starts walking out the club when the little bastard steps over the line. His greasy hands grab for Ryan desperately, to which Ryan automatically cowers behind Shane’s large stature. It’s one thing to be disrespectful to Shane, but to touch Ryan was essentially a death wish.

Shane strides forward and shoves Chad against the wall, pressing him against it hard enough to leave bruises. “Don’t you ever fucking touch him again,” Shane growls, “or next time will be the last time you ever breathe.” Shane had definitely made a decision from earlier as to whether he wanted to laugh or punch the kid, when his fist came down hard on his face. It was an automatic knockout, his body falling to the ground lifelessly, but Shane couldn’t do much worse when Ryan’s tugging at his shoulder. “Let’s go, baby. Please.”

Shane makes a mental note to come back for the kid, but decides to focus his attention on Ryan. “Are you okay, sunshine? Did he hurt you?” Shane’s hands are trialing over Ryan to find any bruising, but the smaller man hushes him with a soft kiss. “I’m fine, let’s go home.”

[obannthepunished]

This weeks notes Mostly transcription this week i think, i tried my best for nott’s scene. as usual ignore the asterisks because theyre just notes to myself.

peace

Molly is Nervous (tm) abiut sticking around, or going to the gentleman

theres a fight in the evening nip, beau is fucking excited its thedd (halfling from sewers) and lewis (one of the ones that had run from the research facility)

N: "I got three gold on Thedd" M: Seems a bit late for a wager at this point N: Just you and me! M:.... fair. I'm in.

Thedd wins by standing on lewis' throat til he passes out holy shit M: (drops coins into Nott's hand) N, smug: Thank you :)

oh now Nott and Beau are fighting jesus christ. C: "I cast Haste on Beauregard." Laura: YOU PIECE OF SHIT **

J: Inflict Wounds (17 dmg) ((Fjord, changing his voice: "I GOT 5 GOLD ON THE HORNY ONE)) B: WHAT THE FUCK JESTER, Stunning Strike, (7dmg, jes fails con save (6), she is stunned, extra attack from haste, 6dmg) J: (is stunned for this round, until the end of beaus turn) B: Beaus the shit outta her ( 12dmg, 6dmg) ((MOLLY blinds her)) B: still goin, but misses 2 of em, hits on the third (12dmg) J: (goes down)

caleb: goes for the low five, and Beau just.... ignores him unintentionally bless.

Frumpkin is sent to lick the blood off of jesters face, Beau cleans her up <33

They are called to the gentleman's side

offered a forward of 500gp and a pot of 4500g to travel to Shady Creek Run, the criminals town, and free and bring back Ophelia... something, who corresponds often with the gentleman

the tldr of the second (250 adv, 1750 pot) is that the swamps are dangerous for the gentlemans safehouse which has gone dark.

theyre promised resources for missions from the gentleman

Jester: "IS HE MOIST"(re the gentleman)

they take on both, starting with the swamps. The Gentleman advises they travel the 70 miles above ground.

Fjord is so fuckin smooth talky wtf. they get greater heling potion(s)?? + cure disease? Caleb's gettin some ink + paper, but its not good for spells 8(

Nott keeps making water puns. im counting 4. and a hankie.

Jester wand of smiles Kutha again, poor kutha 8(

Caleb + beau ( + assumedly nott) go to pumat's

have they paid their inn tab??

Cay buys incense for rituals, probably find familiar lbh. he also gets his magical ink+parchment.

Beau is interested in the bracers of defence. Theyre like 1200gp tho arent they??? B: how much PS: 1200 gold B:HOLY SHIT PUMAT. [snip] B: HOLY SHIT PUMAT(S).

C: (tells beau he cast haste) B: YOU SLIP SOMETHIN IN MY DRINK CALEB??? WHAT THE FUCK MAN

they have 6 horses, 2 pulling, 6 solo. Jes is driving thr cart.

Caleb: (brings up the feywild) Jester: oh the traveller has told me about that!!

Frumpkin is (one of) the first cats yasha has seen 8'O shes fuckin loving it **

lots of fucking soldiers heading to war. hundreds, if not thousands.

night falls as they reach the origin of the. road. they cant find a campground because tal rolled SHIT even with advantage.

Jester + Fjord take first watch. (13. Nothing) Yasha + Beau on second watch. (14. Also Nothing.) B: We should huddle together for warmth??? Y: Fr- Frumpkin is keeping me. very warm. are you cold??? do you want my, my cloak? B: No, no my, my (jacket??? cant remember what she said) is fine, its htin, but its warm Then they talk about Yasha ands this is the furthest shes ever been. Y: "i like this stuff. Grass, and, things. you know." B: You appreciate grass?

B: What was your favourite part of xorhas? Y: I... dont know if i HAD a favourite part

this was the CUTEST shit

third watch is Nott + Molly (10, nothing happens) taliesin trying a jester voice makes me the heart eyes emoji

goblins canonically steal children what THE FUCK. And EAT them. But Nott, apparently, has not eaten a child. "My clan, we STOLE from people. money and clothing and things. And when things got tough, we'd steal the people too." Goblins dont do family. "I do not have an urge to kill and eat children" "i have cravings for... rats... cats-" (Caleb snaps) Frumpkin goes back to the feywild Yasha: =(

taliesin taking watch after rolling shit cmon. he gets 16. Noon, broken cloud cover, a tiny distant curl of smoke. oh not again. its a mile away tho so like

the smoke is coming from a small shack.

"For you, Fjord, I will make Frumpkin a bird." He doesn't though but its the sentiment.

Yasha gets shoulder frumpkin back!

The shack door opens to "an elderly fullblood orc" with hair and beard and all that shit.

for 1 (one) gp a month, you TOO can bother a whole old man orc. Jesus christ he had a battleaxe. puts it down, invites yasha and molly in. THIS IS SO UNNECESSARY Molly buys hide armor + 2lb of meat for 16gp. M: Perception check 10. Matt: "Okay." There is sOMETHING SUS about this.

and theyre off again, i am glad for this. i do not like elderly orc man.

yasha and molly double up on that goof "we totally killed him, three times." its very good

M + Y: What kind of meat is this? (fuck their rolls) its meat! its good meat!

M+Y take first watch, its 12. Nothing happens. Yasha collects some flowers to press awww. N+C Second watch, they roll w advantage lmao. 22. something is going to happen. "you hear the snapping of a twig. you see a shifting of shadow. a few things" Cay casts mage armor

Two arrows for Caleb. con saving throw. probably poison. 10. its poison. he is poisoned. fucks frickin sake. is it gnolls?? is it goblins??? hyenas??? furred barking things. wolves.

two ogres, a cluster of wolves, and goblin-like creatures

initiative order:

Beau: Nat20, 24 Goblins Caleb: 18 Fjord, Molly: 16 Ogres Nott: 15 Yasha, Jester: 6 Wolves

B: Jester, puppies!!

Yasha and Jester shrug off poison of those that hit them.

Caleb casts slow on one ogre. unrelated liam is so good???

oh yeah eldritch blast gets two beams of eldritch blast at lv3

Molly radiants once scimitar and cuts RIGHT through one of em. misses the second.

Caleb hit with a javelin, 4-5 inches into his stomach, holding itself upright. Caleb keeps the spell going.

Nott pretends shes one of them and aims for Caleb, hits the book instead. and nails it.

Jester (traumatised): CALEB!!! cure wounds 2nd level. but he is pretty fucked so its ok. he heals to full its ok its ok. Jester cares so much

Yasha pulls necrotic shroud! which as someone who cant watch TM, this is a reveal for me! :D

J: (to cale) Youre alive! How did- C: (monotonous) haha! funny, joke.

Fjord explodes a goblin Molly cuts one in half, vertically

Molly curses the ogre attacking beau

Nott shoots the ogre, and then the goblin next to her... but misses and is fucked

Yash gets the hdywtdt on one of the ogres

Beau @ necrotic shroud!yasha: you look... dope. You look FUCKIN HOT LETS GO.

cay has magic missile!

fjord gets the second hdywtdt w eldritch blast.

cay n molly go to retrieve stolen goods from goblin but apparently just Molly

Yasha necrotic shrouds when shes startled awake. F: Can you fly? Y: ...no J: Have you tried? Y:... yeah.

Yasha n Caleb have a conversation in celestial C: No really, are you an angel? Y: of sorts, i guess [snip] C: You will have to explain this now, or later. do you want to explain this now, or later? Y: i- ill explain it, just, maybe we should clean up first!

i have no idea whats going on but i heard marisha say "bad dragon" and im gonna die

J: Nott, are you okay? Was it weird to fight other goblins? N: it was... rewarding. I'm only sad that... one got away. B: Nott, do you share the same hatred in yourself? [snip] N: Do... do I hate myself? No. I'm... I'm cool. F: You seem excited to hurt your own kind. N: I know, I'm a goblin, for as long as I've been alive I haven't felt comfortable in, in there. I havent felt comfortable in my skin. It feels like I shouldnt be, i dont fit in with them. I feel, this feels WRONG, like I should be in a different body. The way they act, the way they are, it's not ME. They do horrible things to people, and they seem fine with it. I never felt the same with them. It's not that I don't like myself or anything, I think I'm okay, I just don't like how I feel when I see my hands, or my feet. They just feel wrong. I just want to be... different. C: Was there anyone you were close to? N: Not in my clan, but there was... someone. They tried me on different jobs but I was not a soldier, i was not a good cook, not good at sweing, or building, they stuck me with the torturer. I was the torturers assistant. there was a halfling village not far away and they captured someone from the village, they wanted me to kill him, but instead, I was kind to him. And he started talking, and my... fellow gobbies didn't like that, but they allowed it, because i was getting valuable information. [about halflings resources] I became friends with him. He was nice. J: What happened to him? N: I hope he got away J: Did you leave before him? N: We left together [snip J: Did you love him? N: .... I don't know. The halfling taught her how to speak in halfling, taught her about alchemy, when he has taught her everything, the goblins said to kill him. And she didnt want to. so she got REAL drunk, and shot another goblin in the ass. N: I hope he got away. We ran off in separate directions. I've been running ever since.

+1 to the quest log, find Nott's friend.

Beaus trying to be nice i love her.

C: I do not care. I know who you are now. (<333)

B: I think we're all a little bit of island of misfits.

F: You showed a lot of bravery tonight B: Nott, The brave. J: Maybe there is a comma.

Y: Nott, I'm sorry we made fun of you eating children N: I HAVE NOT EATEN CHILDREN

B: What got you locked up with this guy? (Caleb) N: Being me. Stealing food? C: You told me it was cherry wine. N: OKAY IT WAS BOOZE.

it is now raining.

M: Well, I'm sleeping underneath the cart! if anyone wants to join me... J: We wont all fit! M: We'll snuggle. *

Molly + Jester are under the cart.

"i tasted a baby once. ONCE. they were handing around a bowl, I didn't know-" -N Liam takes Sam's flask and takes a swig so i assume caleb does the same in canon C: "Who am I to judge?"

[mintchocolateleaves]

We’ve Only Just Begun (9/?)

A/N: I am very slow. I understand this. But it’s one a.m and I’m updating now, so please forgive me?

[Full Chapter List]

Before

It’s quiet underground.

In the sewers, on their way into the inner city, Izuku realises that the only thing he can really hear, are rats. They scurry, weaving in and out of crevices in the underground tunnels.

The only light around them is that of the small flashlights they’ve brought in with them. It leaves Izuku feeling nervous, the idea that they’re walking blind, that anything could be hiding, capable of seeing their light, from in the dark.

And fighting down in the sewers… does not sound like the best of ideas.

“Deku,” Uraraka whispers from behind him. She’s close, not enough that it’s uncomfortable in his personal space, but enough that he can feel the shifts in the air as she moves, “I don’t like this.”

“Of course not,” Izuku says in response, “it just feels stagnant down here.”

Uraraka hums under her breath. She says, “I wish Todoroki were here… he’d make everything a little brighter with his flames.”

Izuku resists the urge to shut the conversation down, and snorts instead. He says, “please, it’s with how dead the air is down here, you want him to use up the oxygen that’s in here?”

His partner lets out a sigh. Izuku tries not to judge her for the wistfulness. She says, “well, it’d probably be better to suffocate than suffer the smell down here. It’s like–”

He resists the urge to emphasise that they’re walking through a sewer. That the stench is obviously going to be overwhelming. That they’re probably never going to forget the smell, not when they’ve been gagging over it now for hours.

“It’s just the sewage Urara–”

Izuku cuts himself off. He freezes – his stopping happens so sudden, that Uraraka walks straight into his back, causing him to wobble slightly from the force of her steps.

“What is it?” Uraraka says.

Izuku steps to the side, allows Uraraka the chance to stand beside him and look at what’s ahead. Her breath hitches at the sight.

“I think we’re finally here,” Izuku whispers, as he shines his torch down the tunnel, illuminating the mass bodies piling up. “We’ve finally reached Tokyo’s centre.”

 ---

After

“Won’t you just die?”

Izuku… probably shouldn’t have said that. He’d had a plan, see, for when this moment happened – seeing Shigaraki again – and it had been to remain calm. He’d go through the same processes as he did last time with this invasion, purely because it’s the only disaster they’ve ever gone through that had left them, the heroes, victorious.

But from the moment he’d seen Shigaraki, hands covering his form, smile wide and deranged, Izuku had also known he’d be incapable. He’s incapable.

Fuck all the plans he’d made in his head. So what if this is the only invasion that gives the slightest resemblance of a victory, Izuku can’t let this go. He won’t.

Shigaraki lets out a laugh. It’s like a growl, resonating through him, but soon it increases in pitch, becoming more and more hysterical. Izuku surprises himself – he’d thought he couldn’t hate anyone more than he currently did, but even hearing that laugh leaves him falling into a spiral of hate.

Perhaps the only best element of this, is that during his laugh, the villain loosens his grip on Tsuyu, the girl dropping to the floor. Izuku watches out of the corner of his eyes as she catches herself, scrambling backwards nearer to their teacher.

“I don’t see a reason for that look in your eyes,” Shigaraki says, once he’s calmed down from his laughing, expression shifting to one more… bewildered.

Izuku is caught between saying nothing or saying that he doesn’t have a reason at all. Because realistically, he doesn’t, does he? He can’t complain that Shigaraki pisses him off because he’s the leader of the group responsible for killing everyone he’s ever cared about because…

Because well, everyone he cares about is still alive.

“You were about to kill my friend,” Izuku says, and maybe that adds into it, the fact that he’d been incapable of keeping Tsuyu from the nightmares she’ll go on to have, but it’s not the only reason he feels like his blood is burning through his skin. “Do I need any reason more than that.”

Shigaraki shrugs. The movement is fluid, as if he’s aware how he has the upper hand. It’s insufferable, knowing that if the villain didn’t have any noumu, then Izuku at least stand a chance in a fight.

“That’s not the look of a hero,” Shigaraki says, and now he flicks his wrist, signalling for his noumu to continue in it’s attack. Izuku barely has the time to throw himself backwards at the suddenness of its movements.

Izuku sidesteps the bird-like creature, considers what he can do to drag it out of commission, levelling the playing board and realises that he can’t think of that much.

“Well,” Izuku says, throwing a punch at the noumu. He needs to know how thick-skinned it is. If he’s going to fight it and hold any chance of winning without severely wrecking his body, then he needs to gather information for himself. “What kind of look is it?”

The noumu leaps towards him. Brings two hands down towards the ground in a fist, cracking the ground that Izuku had just been standing on.

“Oh, that look?” Shigaraki says, “that’s the kind of thing you see on villains.”

Izuku grits his teeth. Takes the words and adds them to the ever-growing list on why Shigaraki is a horrible excuse for a man, deserving of nothing but a grave.

He can’t afford to focus on them though. Not with this creature attacking.

Its strength is relative to the same as All-Might’s. Meaning that Izuku’s probably going to hit a standstill if they just exchange blows. Even though fist fights have always been his forte, close combat something that Izuku excels in, there’s not a lot he can do with it now.

Alright, so he’ll have to do something else. Some other avenue of fighting that will help him succeed.

He glances between Aizawa and Tsuyu, between his teacher and classmate – nay, teacher and his friend – and thinks. Muses on their fighting styles, weighs the pros and cons.

Aizawa: He’d taught Izuku the importance of quick fights. In restraining an enemy in whatever way possible.

Alright, so that would be it. Instead of knocking the noumu out, he’ll just find a way to restrain it.

If he can get the noumu trapped in one place, then he’ll be able to go against Shigaraki without any distractions.

Hopefully. Anyway.

And Tsuyu’s fighting style: Stealthy. Capable of adapting to different environments with her skills. Like when they’d been in the flood zone.

The flood zone.

That’s it – he’s in an area designed to emulate disasters. Sure, they’re meant to be using these zones to practise saving people, but well… why not use them to help him win this fight?

Two zones flicker in his subconscious, areas that might help. Areas he’d be able to hold an upper ground. Either the conflagration zone, constantly burning, or the ruins zone.

Izuku’s got enough experience fighting around ruined buildings, shaky foundations, that it’s probably something he’ll be able to navigate without hurting himself too much.

And it’s not too far away. All Izuku needs, is to make sure that the noumu will follow him there, that it’s able to stray away from Shigaraki without the villain being none-the-wiser.

“Fuck,” Izuku mutters under his breath.

The noumu rushes towards him again, forcing Izuku to dive to the side. It follows him, until they’re both at the edge of the central plaza, but he’s pretty sure that the creature won’t follow him any further.

What to do?

The noumu isn’t something he can trick. Izuku knows it’s just some brain-dead creation following orders. It can’t think for itself anymore, so he can’t manipulate it into moving for him.

There’s only one option then. Izuku’s going to have to use some resemblance of force.

Instead of going out of the noumu’s range, instead of leaving a wide berth, Izuku steps into attacks, offering only the smallest gaps between the creature’s punches and his body.

It’s like a dance. Every time the noumu moves one step forwards, Izuku takes two back. Every time it turns its punches, aiming towards the centre of Izuku’s chest, Izuku skirts from the attack.

But all of this is just running away.

He can’t run.

“It took All-Might three hundred punches at one hundred percent to take you down,” Izuku mutters, as he lowers his central gravity, rolling across the ground, aiming a kick at the noumu’s legs. “If I were to try, at fifteen percent, it would take at least five hundred…”

Not an option.

His foot catches on the noumu’s legs, leaves Izuku stumbling, falling to the floor. Izuku takes a moment to blink, watches as the noumu lifts a leg.

“Deku!”

The shout spurs him into moving. He rolls to the right, scrambles up to his feet, and uses as much of all-for-one as he can without breaking any bones. It’s a good offensive power yes, but Izuku’s pretty sure right now he needs to power up his bones, keep them from breaking-

The noumu doesn’t hit him directly.

It’s the aftermath of the hit that manages to sweep him off his feet. One moment, Izuku is on his feet, the next, a wave of pressure hits him in his chest – a build up of air from the noumu’s attack – throwing him backwards.

Izuku heaves out a breath, swallows down the acid that rises from his throat.

“Shit,” he mutters. Forces in a breath, even as he moves back, down the central plazas stairs, baiting the noumu to come a little closer.

“Deku!” This time, Izuku glances around, just long enough to catch Uraraka racing down towards him. She doesn’t stop until she’s next to him, tackling him from the oncoming blow the noumu’s aiming towards them.

They scramble, fall backwards. And it’s all Izuku can do, to throw her to the side out of the noumu’s range, as he makes his way back to his feet.

“Uraraka,” he hisses, glancing at the girl, “what are you doing?”

“That villain mentioned when you started fighting that thing that it was designed to kill All-Might!” Uraraka says, keeping her distance. “We’re students, you can’t defeat it by yourself.”

Izuku resists the urge to scowl. Instead he dives out of the way of another punch, bites into his lip, and takes a moment to think. Uraraka had been a brilliant partner in the past… well, future… and Izuku knows her limitations, but that’s from years of training. Now they’re back at the start…

But, anti-gravity does seem like something he could use for this noumu. If he can’t trip it, can’t use any powers against it right now then, surely, with her help.

“Then help me Uraraka!” Izuku calls, sparing a fleeting glance. “If I can create an opening for you, then use your zero gravity on it.”

Maybe he’d been thinking this through too much – the noumu is designed to kill All-Might, designed to fight any wielder of One-For-All. But that means it’s only adapted for fighting such a quirk.

It’s strong, and durable.

How exactly will it handle operate in a fight if there’s no gravity holding it down? And if Uraraka can keep her hold on it for long enough then… then surely they’ll be able to think of an area that can keep this creature contained until the pro heroes arrive.

He just needs Uraraka’s help, and well, maybe this time his plan won’t be a disaster. They just need to get through this in one piece.

“I’ll try,” Uraraka says.

[beheadingofmakai]

“Exorcist” Is A Strong Word

Next Chapter ->

“...And why in the world are you here so early?” sighed a puzzled Nicholas as soon as he saw who opened the loud, creaking iron door at 5:26 AM this fine Monday, the paradise composed of only him, his keyboard, and his files crumbling to pieces.

At the other end of the already small room that was made even smaller by the sheer volume of papers, folders, and the occasional pizza box scattered around, the door swung open, and in strode a tall man with wavy, long dark brown hair, tied in a ponytail that rested upon his left shoulder, clad in a padded coat that was both well worn and ready for more, owing to its clearly wonderful, if pragmatic make, and, under the loosest of definitions, “wearing” a red necktie, as shoddily tied as you’d expect of someone whose desk consists of a spilled coffee mug, two billiards balls in an office without a billiards table, and no paperwork to speak of.

“You could at least tie that thing properly if you are going to storm in so early, man.” followed up Nicholas Dunbar after the man’s lack of a reply. “Chief’s gonna chew you out again if you don’t at least make an attempt to not look like the slob you are.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve always been honest, after all.” replied the man nonchalantly, throwing his coat to the nearby couch before sitting down on his desk, immediately propping up his legs on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s good and all, but you always end up somehow dragging me into his lectures about dress code, and honestly, I don’t gotta deal wi--”

“I understand that you are a gold medalist in bitching and that you love being cooped up in this man cave all nice and cozy by your lovely, lonesome self, but before you give me some more of that classic Before 9:30 AM Nicholas love, I’d prefer if you’d give me anything new regarding Brown Note” interrupted the man as he fiddled with his tie. Nicholas sighed in an unfortunately trained manner, his eyes saying “oh boy, here we go again” in the language of rolling.

“Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the one before that one, no, Bastian, nothing new on Brown Note. You know you’re the first one I’ll tell if we get any information on him, but you have to be patient.” Nicholas sighed and sipped on his coffee before removing his glasses.” And... Well...”

Bastian stopped fiddling with his tie as soon as Nicholas, a man whose dictionary doesn’t include weird things like “tact” or “sensibility”, stumbled upon his tongue before saying something. “Well? What’s eating you? Just say it, man... Oh, I know what’s going on! You are going to assign me another haunted house case! Nope! No way! I just got the splinters outta my damn ears this morning, not to mention the settlement with that stubborn ghost and all that damn goo on my hair whenever he sneezed, and---”

“Well, see, Bastian... Office Chief Hallvard and Chief Toshiro... Assigned you your new partner.” finally spat out Nicholas, rubbing his glasses with a wipe, masterfully avoiding eye contact with Bastian with all the grace of a dog that knows he did something wrong.

“Yeah, and your glasses look good on you, while we are at it. So, about Brown Note, I think we have to--”

“Bastian, I’m serious. And so is the chief. You have a new partner.”

“I don’t do partners, Nick, you know that, he knows that, now, jokes aside, I think I am starting to understand a pattern with Br--”

“Bastian, the Chief made it very clear that this is a direct order from HQ. You are to have a new partner. It’s been decided, man, and frankly, you... Look, I hate to say it, but you have to move on, not for the Office, not for the Chief, but for yourself. You don’t deserve to knock yourself like this for so long. Roderick’s gone, and it wasn’t your fault. It pains all of us, it pains you more than anyone, no doubt, but the rules are the rules, and you need to come to terms with the present already. You’ve been like this for seven months.”

Bastian looked like his gums were about to furiously flap at the helpless assistant, but before his tranquil rage slipped through jaded words and venom tongues, his face morphed into that very relatable and very familiar visage of “Oh.”. He quickly whipped out his cellphone and confirmed the date: August 4th. “You gotta be chewing my-- Hallvard’s putting me with a greenhorn!?”

“Yup” calmly replied Nicholas, his head cool once more as he adjusted his glasses. “August 4th. Today’s the day when the newest graduates of the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy officially begin working. You have been assigned one of the graduates as your new partner, and you two already have a case.”

One quick look at Bastian’s face could tell thousands of words, most of them indecent and some even horrifying, but he knew that, against a direct order from HQ, he couldn’t get away working solo anymore. Finally tying his necktie properly and brewing himself some coffee with the worn out coffee maker, the tall man finally settled down, something that didn’t escape his colleague’s attentive and somewhat frightened eye.

“Bastian, you are not thinking what I think you are thinking.”

“Whatever could you possibly mean, my dear Nicholas?”

“You are going to scare away the newbie!”

“What!? I would never do such a thing~!”

“Bastian, I swear to the Arc, you got away with it before, but you can’t just bully your way into... Well, having your way, man!”

“Big words coming from the guy who couldn’t stop laughing when the Ogre Incident happened!”

“Dude, that was hila-- No! It’s not right! Don’t do this a fourth time, come on, Bastian! You can’t keep getting away with... Pfff... When the ogre... And the new guy... Ppffffff! N-no! Bastian, please, just please try it honestly this one time!”

“Nicholas, brief me in our case, if you will.” smugly and softly asked Bastian, a wry grin plastered on that oh so punchable face.

“...By the Arc, you monster... Whatever, so, ahem...” -- the assistant holds out the freshly printed sheet of paper -- “There’s been some necromancy sightings. No felony reports, yet, but from what we’ve been able to tell, it’s definitely necromancy.” Nicholas explained, still trying to contain the faintest hints of laughter from remembering the Ogre Incident.

“Oh, great, another freaking knucklehead reanimating stray dogs or sewer rats?”

“See, this is where it gets interesting” replied a serious and compelled Nicholas, inching forward on his seat as he opened a file on his computer. “It’s real necromancy. The actual, for realsies deal. We’ve not seen anything like this before.”

Bastian’s playful grin disappeared immediately. “Real necromancy...? Wait, so people...? Reanimated humans? Actual damn humans...?”

“...Yup. And you know what’s the weirdest part?” -- Nicholas produced a cigarette pack from his chest pocket and extended it towards Bastian, who took one -- “They are not doing a single bad thing. They are simply living as they usually did. It’s mostly senior citizens, and we only noticed due to the signs of strong magic residue a couple of neighborhoods presented... And, uh, the signs of decay on these otherwise perfectly fine people. You need to investigate... Well, whatever the hell this is.”

“What...?” Bastian drank from his coffee and tried to digest this information for a second before reaching for a seemingly discarded pizza box, getting a slice of cold pizza from last night and biting into it. “So you are telling me this is one of the few cases of actual Necromancy, not just some punk kids, we’ve ever gotten, and that they are not even thralled or doing, hell, unholy stuff or whatever, they are just chilling? This forgotten art just being used for kicks? What the hell is this? Why are they giving this case to me and some new runt?”

The assistant shrugged and adjusted his glasses. “If I had to take a guess, it’s the Chief’s way of apologizing to you for giving you a partner?”. Hearing this, Bastian let out a roaring laughter, stood up and headed towards the door.

“That fucking Hallvard... He knows how to play me, alright. Sure, fine, whatever, runt or not, this case is gold. Nick, what’s the kid’s name and address?”

“Vinn Ingram, and he lives close by, at 364 Mint Hill Street, third floor. Why do you want to kn--” Nicholas immediately stood up, realizing too late what was going on. “Bastian, dude, don’t you dare--!”

“Bye, darling! Gonna go pick up my new partner like the lovely, lovely nice guy I am! I’m on the case!” was all that Bastian said before he vanished behind the creaky old iron door with an almost dance-like stride.

“Oh boy... Well, it’s his problem now. I hope he doesn’t scar him for life. Well, now, lots of stuff to file today, so let’s get to it before the others arrive.” finally sighed Nicholas, this maelstrom truly and well out of his hands. Opening a drawer, he produced an old, pre-amnesia large novelty lighter in the shape of a comically oversized pistol with any and all inscriptions and numbers in it covered by burns and made impossible to discern, pulled the trigger, and lit his cigarette. “Right, let’s start by reporting this... Case 898VH7, Mint Hill Office. Exorcists on the case: Bastian Ashfield and Vinn Ingram, and here’s hoping the latter makes it out alive.”

           Of hospitals, Hippocratic... Suggestions, and a lot of cyber dogs:                                  -- Chapter 1: First Day At The Job -- 

A new suit, pressed and pristine.

A new tie, bright and never once worn.

A hearty breakfast, with bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

Today was it.

“...Right, gotta make a good first impression. Can’t mess up the very first day. I finally graduated, now I get to make an actual impact on the Mythics on this city. No more theory, no more trials, now’s the real deal!”

A young man with short dark red hair and green eyes stood in front of the mirror, awkwardly trying to tie his necktie properly. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, but formal wear had always been weird to him. The suit, however, looked right at home on him: A two piece suit, dark with the faintest grey hues, underneath which was silver sleeveless vest, a black shirt, and a light blue necktie, impeccable and promising, worn for the first time. As great as it could look, however, it didn’t pacify the young man inside of it, nervous about his first day at his new job. He kept talking to himself as if trying his hardest not to panic.

Yet, was it panic or excitement?

“Hair, check. Suit, check. Deodorant...” -- the young man sniffed himself over -- “Check! Alright, I ate my breakfast and got everything ready. If I arrive 30 minutes early on my first day, it’ll be a great first impression, heh!”

Grabbing his keys, wallet, and cellphone, the young man in the suit couldn’t be more ready. Any ambushes on him right now would be futile. Surprises would be meaningless. There was no stopping him now, he was ready!

*ding dong*

Or so he thought before the bell, like a hammer, crushed all of these thoughts into shards. “Wh-- No one knows I live here, who in the world... Yes! I’m coming, one second!”

The man quickly ran at the front door, and upon opening it, found himself face to face with a tall man in a padded vest, wavy ponytail resting on his left shoulder.

“‘Sup. Ingram? Vinn Ingram?”

“Y-yes, that’s me, who are y--”

“You are still not out? You have the gall of living just a couple of blocks away from your workplace, and you are still not there?”

“Woah there, hey” immediately interjected Vinn. “Who are you? How did you know where I li--”

“Ashfield. Bastian Ashfield, Exorcist working at the Seventh Office of the Mythic Affairs Bureau, housed at Mint Hill 1178, which is, again, just a couple of blocks from here. We didn’t have to meet here, you know?”

Though he looked brusque and was certainly not polite, the tall man in front of Vinn carried an air of authority and command to him that you wouldn’t expect from someone as young as him. Between his posture, body language, and his words, he had stolen any momentum Vinn might have presumed to have. This ‘Bastian’ fellow looked like if a Rottweiler and an assault rifle had a child, and this child had grown to bully kids in high school. “That’s the office I was assigned to... But, it said on the e-mail that you guys start working at 9:30, it’s just ten to 9:00, isn’t this a bit too early?”

“I’m glad you know how how to read mails!” Not a single full second passed after Vinn had finished talking before Bastian was already replying to him. “Now I just wish you actually took this job seriously, kid. 9-god damn-30? That’s when we are officially open. You get your ass to the office at 8:00 on point at the latest, so you can prep right, talk to your team team properly, and be ready for what the rest has for you. At 9:30, at the Seventh, we move out, but “work”? Work starts way damn earlier. Are you taking this seriously, Ingram?”

“I am taking this seriously, I graduated with--”

“You graduated with top scores. Top of your class and year. Big damn claps for you, ‘grats, you did well on some piss ass tests, you knew how to answer multiple selection questions, allow me to pay you a prostitute, you utterly priceless son of a gun. Don’t mean shit if you don’t take this seriously. Let this be the last time.”

“What is your problem?” Vinn replied.

“Little shits like you that think this is a game are my problem, that they can get in for the perks and the ‘fancy’ feeling that they are special or what not, without realizing lives ride on this” immediately retorted Bastian, turning back and heading down the aisle towards the stairs. “Let’s get going, boy. We have our first case already.” 

The man with the ponytail stopped in the middle of the aisle, without turning back to face Vinn. “Ah, yeah, you have been assigned to me as my partner. Nice to meet you.”

“...Wow, alright then.” Vinn looked at himself one final time in the mirror, closed the door behind him, and went downstairs. That is one way to start your first day at the job.

                                                          -------

Old buildings next to new buildings, big billboards, empty cafes getting ready for the day, and children making their way to school, some of which were clearly Mythic kids disguised as Humans, if you knew were to look at the disguise magic they had on. The sky was a “way too damn early” cloudy, and the AC in the car was about the only thing that kept the two men from freezing to death in the cold, cold city’s morning. Just another day on Stroln City. Vinn was ready to unfasten his seat belt, but the car didn’t stop at what looked like the office. “...Aren’t we stopping by?”

“Nope. Any time spent there can be spent working. We are going to Marcelino 913. Go over the case notes while I get us there.”

“Necromancy, right?” Vinn responded immediately. “I was sent the case details over e-mail as well. Actual, real necromancy... Not what I expected my first case to be.” The young exorcist rubbed his chin. “And more strangely, we have a subdue order, not a termination order.”

“...Hold on, what?”

“Yeah, it says right here, look”

Vinn tapped the screen of his phone a couple of times and showed the screen to his partner on the wheel, highlighting the order details.

“...So they actually sent a mail with...”

“Hm? Sorry, what was that?”

“Oh, uh, no, yeah, that is very weird. A subdue order for a transgression this big...?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Man, I just assumed, I mean, I’ve gotten the order to smoke Mythics for way less, a capture order for a straight up Necromancer is crazy.”

Vinn’s posture changed, and he just gave a small nod, which Bastian noted but didn’t comment on. “Well, whatever.” continued Bastian. “Let’s get this done with. I’ll drop you off at Marcelino, then I’ll go at the other two neighborhoods where sightings were reported. I know you are crazy to start blasting things after finally graduating, but this is part of the job, too, got it? We interview and we get information right and proper. Don’t like it? That’s too b--”

“I know what this job entails, and you are trying way too hard with that “kid’ thing.” Vinn coldly interrupted, looking out of the window at an old billboard with indiscernible text due to the burn marks on it. “A pre-amnesia billboard...? How is that thing still up...?” the young man thought to himself.

“Oh, you did remember to bring your balls! Glad to see you aren’t a complete pushover.” Bastian remarked with a slimy grin, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the rhythm of the music. “If you don’t have any questions, that’s all.”

“I do, actually. Smoking... Mythics. Does that happen often?”

“...? You do know we are Exorcists, right? It’s kinda self explanatory from the name. Do you go the library and ask “do people read books here or what?””

“A difference, if I may” interrupted the new Exorcist. “Subduing is one thing, termination is another, but “smoking” adds a whole new layer of fucked up, if I may. If a criminal is doing objectively bad things, yeah, then we take action, but... Look, I guess what I am asking is... For exactly how little a transgression will we be “smoking” Mythics?”

Bastian’s fingers ceased their rhythmic tapping and, for the first time today, he wasn’t immediately vomiting words back at his new partner. “...Sometimes, for very little things, more than I am comfortable with. Sometimes, we don’t do the termination, because the piece of shit in front of us has good connections. Sometimes, we get “wrong information”, and we end up smoking perfectly god damn innocent Mythics just for the benefit of some asshole with big bucks and bigger influence, and sometimes--!” Holding himself back in time, the senior Exorcist realized he was raising his voice. The yelling wasn’t what surprised Vinn, it was the fact that it was the first show of true emotion Bastian had shown in the day. His eyes were those of an extremely bitter man.

“So basically, there’s a lot of--”

Before Vinn could say anything, the car stopped dead on its tracks, and Vinn had to put his hands forward to avoid smacking his face against the glove box.

“...We’re here. Get good info or don’t bother calling me.”

“Alright, mom.”

The car took off, and Vinn was left by himself, much to his relief. Just a few steps away from him was the house of one Hirose Akane. “’Smoking’ Mythics, huh? Whatever, let’s just focus on this...”. The young Exorcist approached the house and rang on the bell, waiting just briefly before the owner responded.

“...You must be with the MAB?”

“Good day, Miss Hirose. Indeed, I am Vinn Ingram, Seventh Off--”

“Come in.” is all she said before disappearing right back in the house.

“Well, then.” muttered a disappointed Vinn to himself, his first professional introduction in his job completely and utterly thwarted.

Inside the house, tons of trinkets lined the walls, a bizarre ox sigil was emblazoned on almost every piece of furniture, and the pungent scent of mana permeated the room with two sofas and a small center table, where tea being served by a small paper shikigami awaited. This was no civilian house, this was clearly the house of a mage, possibly an onmyoji, to be precise. Akane, a woman no older than 22, sat on the sofa, a sour expression that she didn’t even try to hide plastered on her face. Vinn stepped forward after she looked at him with curious eyes, as if wondering why he hadn’t taken a seat yet. “Not a single easy person on the first day, haha” he thought to himself as he took a seat.

“Well, I won’t take much of your ti--”

“Here.” again interrupted Akane, putting a daunting stack of papers on the table.

Vinn took the papers and gave them a quick-over. The names of Akane and presumably her family were in there, as well as several stamps and signatures. “What are these?”

“My documentation. I’m legit, as is everyone in this household. We are certified with the MAB, so there’s no problem with us practicing magic.”

“...Ma’am, there must be a confusion, I didn’t come here for this. I... Didn’t need to see this. I’m here regarding the necromancy sightings near Marcelino Street.”

“Oh, please, you were going to ask me for my documentation. You Exorcists always do this, trying to find the slightest flaw, the smallest chink in the armor. Well? All our papers are up to date. Write it down on that notebook, will you?”

Taking a moment, Vinn noticed six peeping eyes looking from a barely open door across the living room, eyes belong to children. With a resigned sigh, Vinn flipped through the onmyoji’s documentation rapidly and just put it down unceremoniously, just writing random lines on his notepad to at least assuage her nerves. 

“...Miss Hirose, can I ask you something?”

“All the paperwork is good!”

“Yes, I know, you are in the clear, and you haven’t a thing to worry about, that’s not it. I want to know... Are Exorcists, well, really that bad?”

The fact that Vinn had not contested any of the paperwork and looked genuinely puzzled confused the home owner. “What...? You aren’t here to... Hm, yeah, I guess you are” -- Akane finally relaxed, if just a little, resting against the sofa -- “I didn’t want to report anything at first, but my conscience wouldn’t let me sit idly, even if it meant dealing with Exorcists.”

“I see. I’m new on the job, started just today, and... Well, I don’t really know where all this hostility is coming from, I just guess I wanted to know, though I have a good guess” Vinn said, remembering his lovely partner.

“...Are you really an Exorcist? You don’t know about the beef between magic users and Exorcists? You are all always trying to screw us over, basically. Even when we are the ones to report crimes or anything, it’s always a thorough check on everything, everything before you actually get to the questions, as if trying to actively curb us! We are licensed by your system, and you still do this!” 

“According to the manual, these are safety checks to prove it isn’t a false lead or even a trap. They are not there to harm you, they are there to protect you.”

“Yeah, protect us by planting evidence on us when you are running low on your quota, right?”

“What? Our quo-- I know nothing of a quota!”

“Look, whatever, here’s what I know.” Akane snapped her fingers, and a small origami ox walked into the room, jumping onto Vinn’s lap and unfolding itself, revealing a list full of names written on its ‘body’. “Those are the names of the reanimated people in this neighborhood. They are all senior citizens and they are all... Fine, strangely. They are all mundane, so they don’t even know they are... Well... Dead.”

“About that,” Vinn interjected, moving onto this next topic. “They haven’t done anything bad? Was that part of the report right? They are just... Resuming with their lives... Uh, unlives, and minds intact?”

“Seems so” -- Akane sipped tea from her cup -- “The necromancy is so well done that we didn’t even notice until we realized that there was a lot of residue mana, well, everywhere. Do you smell that in the air? That’s a lot. Way more than the normal person can handle.”

“I just thought it was that way due to this being a mage household.”

“Hah! I wish we could produce this level of residue, no, whoever is behind this is way out of our league.”

Jotting down these findings, Vinn tapped his pen against his chin, trying to wrap his mind around this travesty of a case. He drank his tea, and then looked out of the window to notice some senior citizens going into a large yellow and white building. “Those old men and women... They are not alive. What’s that building?”

“...Hoh! Good eye, Exorcist. Yes, those are undead. Not that they know it. That’s the Marcelino Clinic, they usually go there for their check ups.”

“I know this is asking a lot, but would you know if every senior citizen here goes there?”

“Mm, yeah, they all go to that clinic since it’s close by and... Hold on, now that I think about it, yeah, everyone on this list goes there for their check ups, actually. This is a small neighborhood and we all know each other, so we know these things, but-- Ah!”

“What is it, Miss Hirose?” Vinn immediately prepared his pen.

“Just for some days, a new girl from elsewhere worked there as a nurse. All the old men and ladies were charmed by her, saying she was so very cute and a miracle worker for their back pains and stuff. Then, she was gone. Do you think...?”

Whatever she may have said after that fell upon deaf ears, for Vinn was furiously jotting down on his notebook and texting Bastian. “Many thanks for your help, Miss Hirose, and the tea was delicious”.

Vinn got up in a hurry and ran towards the door, but not before being stopped by Akane. “...Hold on one second. Ingram, was it? Are you in a hurry?”

“Hm? I have to wait for my partner to bring the car, so I have time until then, why?”

“...You are new, right? And your confusion seemed to be genuine. You... Truly don’t know of the cruelty of Exorcists?”

Vinn put his hand away from the doorknob and headed back towards the sofa. Before sitting down, he put down his cellphone and his notepad on the table, in front of Akane. “Miss Hirose, here’s everything I have on me. If it calms you down, check it, confirm that I am not recording anything. I want you to please tell me anything you can about this cruelty, because I swear on whatever it is that would make you believe me that I don’t know about it. I’m as green as they come, sadly, this is my first day in the job, and even before coming here, I already heard some pretty damn horrible things.”

Akane signaled to the many eyes hiding behind the door, and they disappeared before the door, finally shut properly. “...Those were my little siblings. Two brothers, one sister, lovely little things. They were worried you were here to take me away as well”.

“...As well? What does that mean?”

“Two weeks ago, we reported a felony. Simple stuff, really, just an oni that had gotten a bit too plastered and got in a fight with some construction equipment, heh.”

“Pfff-- P-please go on”

“...As soon as the dispatched Exorcists came, however... “ --Akane’s face soured and her eyes misted -- “...They came in and took our father into custody for having some goods that he had not yet reported. Every month, you have to fill up a--”

“--A KLB-98 pink and yellow forms, which detail all the arcane items in your possession and, in the case of the ones that are not listed in the Domestic Items Roster, you also have to explain why you have it, where you got it, and what do you intend to do with it.”

“...You know you paperwork, mister Exorcist. Yes, that is exactly it. We had filed our KLB-Whatever three days prior, and then the day before, my father acquired a certain item, nothing dangerous. Well, it wasn’t in the form we had submitted, so he was taken in. Do they expect us to update the form every single time we get something? He’s been at one of the MAB offices since then, apparently until he confesses.”

Although Akane was clearly disturbed, shock overcame her when she looked up and saw the utterly indignant Vinn. “...And it’s this everywhere else that you know of?”

“Y-yes, it’s definitely not an isolated case. Given this is actually a major and serious crime, we were sure you’d take me, or us, away. But we couldn’t just turn a blind eye to something this big, even if it meant--”

The cellphone on the table began vibrating. Vinn stood up, grabbed his possessions, and headed towards the door. “My drive’s here. Thanks for the information, Miss Hirose. I... Will see if there’s anything I can do about this.”

“R-right, thanks.” is all she could say at the sight of the calm man suddenly drowning in anger. A small paper ox approached the onmyoji, a handkerchief clenched in its mouth, which Akane used to wipe her sweat away. “...I didn’t think I’d be sleeping in this house this night.”

                                                         -------

“It’s me, Vinn. Did you check what I sent you?”

“Ingram, wait for me at the very spot I dropped you off, we need to go fast!”

“...Huh?”

“Your information more or less confirms it! I went to two other neighborhoods where necromancy had been sighted, and including your interview, they all said the same thing: Senior citizens going to a nearby clinic where a new girl that disappeared soon after worked briefly. In other words...”

“We have our girl... But, how do we know where she’ll strike next?”

A worn out dark blue car suddenly screeched right next to where Vinn was standing, door swinging open and almost flying away from the poorly oiled hinges. Inside, a maniacally joyful Bastian waved for Vinn to get in.

“She’s no mastermind, for sure! She went from this one to the next neighborhood with a clinic, and to the next after that one! I had Nick check their employment ledgers!”

“Nick?”

“Some asshole with four eyes and fast fingers, now get in! She should be at the next clinic, Hanlan Clinic! She’s been jumping around with different fake names, but she didn’t bother to change her appearance!”

There wasn’t much time for words in the frenzied car ride at speeds that made ballistics grow green with envy. Bastian and Vinn briefly cross checked their findings, and it was clear as day that their main suspect was this mysterious girl. Before they knew it, they had arrived at Hanlan Clinic, a small neighborhood clinic situated in the suburbs, close to a beautiful forest. Though still shaken by the ‘smoking’ and Akane’s tale, Vinn couldn’t help but feel a bonfire under his skin: He was finally going to do what he wanted, his very first case, and a major one, at that!

“...Hello there, Bastian Ashfield, Seventh Office” greeted Bastian, leaving out the outfit he belonged to, as Exorcists do when introducing themselves to mundane people ignorant of the mystic world hiding right in front of their nose. “I need to talk to one... Denise McCarthy. Is she on duty right now?”

An elderly lady sat behind the counter with a newspaper and a box of donuts, taking her eyes off the newspaper when the Exorcist approached her. “Yes, Denise is in right now! I’ll call her right now. Um... She’s not in any trouble, right...?”

“Nah, don’t worry, ma’am.” reassured Bastian with an uncharacteristically kind smile. “We just have some questions for her, is all.”

“Oh, phew! I’m glad that’s the case, I don’t know what we’d do without her! She’s such a kind girl and a miracle worker! With her help, patients that even doctors haven’t been able to deal with have suddenly been feeling great since she started! She also brings snacks for us every day! What a nice girl!”

Bastian and Vinn looked at each other. “Ma’am, did she bring those donuts right there?” Vinn inquired.

“Yup!”

“May I see them for a second? We didn’t have breakfast today, and those look great, I’d love to buy some on the way back to the office.”

“Sure thing, darling! Feel free to take one from the box while I got get her, if you so wish!”

“...Alright, Ingram, you were the top graduate of this year, right? Show me your SSSD.” whispered Bastian as he held the donuts box in front of Vinn.

SSSD, an abbreviation of Six Spells Of Self Defense, are the six basic spells any Exorcist must know, regardless of their rank or role, and they serve as the bare minimum requirement an Exorcist must fulfill before they are even considered for graduation or employment in the MAB. 

“In Te Fallitur” Vinn murmured, a subtle yet elegant light coating his eyes. “...These are normal donuts. Cream filled, actually. No mana or blight in them. She didn’t spike these.”

“Heh, what a graceful Fallitur.” Bastian commented as he returned the donut box. “You know what they say about the SSSD, right? They are six spells so simple, versatile and basic that they accurately reflect the caster.”

“That’s what they kept saying over and over at the Academy. I must have heard that hundreds of times, all the way from the first year.”

“Yours is delicate, Ingram. I can tell you like Fallitur. Subtle, graceful execution. You might not be suited to this job.” Bastian added, and yet his voice wasn’t the moustache-twirling try hard harsh from before. For a second there, it was genuine concern, perhaps honesty, peeking out of his mouth, much like in the car, which left Vinn quite unsure of what to think.

“Hello? Were you the officers that were asking for me?”

The two men turned to face the soft voice of a girl. A girl in nurse scrubs, with long purple hair tied in a side ponytail. Between the purple hair and the purple eyes, it was clear this was no normal person. Bastian and Vinn once again looked at each other, and in unspoken covenant, they casually moved to cover the exit.

“Miss McCarthy? I am Bastian Ashfield, and this is Vinn Ingram, we are from the Seventh Office, and we’d like to ask you some questions regarding your job-hopping.”

“J-Job ho-- I-I’ve never worked before... This is my first job as a nurse! I have my identification right here, look” the girl sheepishly answered, trembling, handing over an I.D. and some other papers.

“That’s nice, Miss McCarthy, real damn nice, except we didn’t ask for any documentation. Do you mean to say that you carry your documents with you at all times? Even in those scrubs, during work hours? Why did you assume we’d ask for your documents? I wonder why, Miss McCarthy?”

“...! Well, s-see, the thing is--”

“In Te Fallitur” the senior Exorcist whispered, and a radiant, scorching light manifested in his eyes, blanketing them whole. “I spy with little eye, some bullshit. So, we’ll need you to come with us to the Office, “Denise”, we sure as hell have some questions for you and your little revival circus you got going in here!”

“Leave me alone!” yelled the girl, extending both of her arms at the floor. Very suddenly, the stench of mana filled the room, and the skeleton of a large bird-like animal burst from the ground beneath her, running away from the Exorcists and jumping through a window.

“Shit! Get in the car, we are going after her!” exasperatedly yelled Bastian. Vinn didn’t know what to make of this other than they had the right perp. Now came the hard part: Actually subduing her.

                                                        -------

Even from inside the car, the heavy, powerful footsteps of the ostrich-like skeleton could be heard as the two Exorcists drove after it in the forest. Sharp lefts and feint rights were no match for Bastian’s skill behind the wheel, who expertly stayed on their tail.

“This is your last warning!” announced Vinn from the car. “Stop running right now and we’ll help you with your charges!”

The girl looked at them for just a second and then turned back to face the road in front of her. “I bet you say that to everyone before you smoke them real good! Go away, Exorcists!” 

“Damn, well, what do we do n--BASTIAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“Cover your ears, kid!”

Right next to Vinn, half of Bastian’s body was hanging out of the window, right hand precariously handling the wheel while his left held a large shotgun. Vinn was about to say something, but it was completely drowned by the loud bang of the buckshot exploding out of the barrel and hitting the ostrich in the knee, sending it collapsing.

“And that’s “sir” or at least “Ashfield” to you, who the hell do you think you are talking to!”

“Where did you get that from!?”

With the ostrich felled, the necromancer fell and tumbled hard on the ground, alone and cornered around a sea of trees and two Exorcists. “No... No! Don’t... Don’t get close! Get away!” The panicked girl extended both arms towards the men and yelled words in a strange language, unleashing a wave of foul energies that rotted everything it caressed.

      “Oh, shit! Domunus Tecum!”                        “H-holy fu--! Domunus Tecum!”

A potent, almost blinding light barrier manifested in front of both men, repelling the blighted energy away from them. “She’s agitated! We gotta pin and silence her fast!” Vinn declared, but he soon realized his partner was not beside him anymore. “Wh-- Bastian?”

“...I said to call me Ashfield at least, Ingram.”

Vinn’s eyes followed where the voice came from, and they sure enough found Bastian, leisurely sitting atop a nearby tree. “It’s do or die, kid. With that blast she released, there’s gonna be a lot of walking dead to deal with.”

“...What are you playing at, Bastian?” Vinn asked, skeletons and fleshy corpses erupting from the blighted soil around him.

“I don’t do partners. I work alone. I don’t trust you, so you are gonna make me trust you. If you can deal with this shitfest, then maybe you have what it takes to do this job. If you can’t, well, you die and that’s one less problem for me” -- Bastian plucked a cigarette from pack and lit it -- “...Just kidding. I’m not gonna let you die, but I will let you get battered to a pulp before saving you. Show me that you really wanna do this.”

“Is that how it is, Bastian? You are a sick fuck, but I’ll play your game.” Vinn, thoroughly surrounded by the crawling death, seemed undaunted. The young man simply reached for his pocket and produced a pair of handcuffs. “This?” From behind Vinn, a corpse swung its blight-empowered hand, easily able to smash through concrete, right at Vinn’s head.

“This is nothing.”

At the very last second, Vinn stepped to the side and tripped the undead, sending it hurling to the ground with its own momentum before planting a crushing knee on its head. From his flank, a skeleton attempted to thrust Vinn with what was left of its jagged right arm, but Vinn caught it and flipped it over his shoulder against another incoming foe. Systematically and without much trouble, Vinn kept waiting for them to come at him before gracefully countering them.

“...That’s not the style they teach at the Academy. This is the opposite... Where did you learn to fight?” inquired the genuinely impressed Bastian, holding onto a terribly angry skeleton that was powerless to move from the casual yet effective hold Bastian had it in.

“None of your business. Your only business here is to see if I am taking this shit seriously, right? If I can do this job you oh so oppose me doing, no? Then shut up and watch.”

“Oh, but it is my business. MAB has always geared its operatives to either blast from afar or to go in like rabid dogs. Exorcists fight things much larger and much stronger than then, especially physically. Your style is not only completely god damn nuts, it’s also something I can tell you’ve been doing for a long time... It’s like you know exactly how to use the enemy’s own force. You didn’t come up with this in one day or two or even in the three years you spent at the Academy. This goes deeper. You are different in more ways that I can shake a rosary at.”

“...No comment.” replied Vinn, using his handcuffs to deflect a deadly thrust by expertly capturing the wrist of a foe mid-attack before using the momentum to spin them in the air right towards the ground.

“What’s more, I noticed something, Ingram. Your Fallitur earlier and your Domunus now were on a level unlike anything I’ve seen before from graduates. You are, honestly, on par with men and women much more experienced than you. You have a control of your mana that is absolutely crazy. It’s not unheard from Mythic-related families to have experienced spellweavers among them, but your expertise not only is still baffling by those standards, your style of channeling magic is different. You don’t do this the way we do.”

“...”

“So you know what I think, Ingram? There’s something you are not telling me. I ran a background check on you. Top graduate of your class and year, you are, yet, your friends could be counted in one hand. Your previous residence is some normal, normal neighborhood not known at all for its Mythics. Your professors and instructors spoke highly of you, yet they could never figure you out in the slightest. You were the top graduate, but also very socially maladjusted... And yet! You don’t have any difficulty speaking your mind, and you don’t behave like a reclusive dickhead or an antisocial kid. This is wrecking my nerves, Ingram! What the fuck are you!”

As Bastian went on and on, Vinn never stopped reacting to his foes’ assault. Dodge, parry, swipe, trip, throw, dodge, step, trip, grapple, knock, dodge. Despite his very perilous situation, the young man did not make a single mistake, and soon enough, no undead remained, only a terrified necromancer, sweating from overexertion, sweating that hid her tears.

“...I’m--”

“I don’t care what you are, Ingram”.

Bastian descended from the treetops, skeleton still in his casual “embrace”. “I don’t care what you are, Ingram, I care about what I see, and I care about what I can see you doing. If results are to speak, then they speak well of you. That’s what I care about.”

“...So I take it I pass your little te--Behind you!”

The necromancer’s wave had quite the reach, and far more soil than immediately discernible had been tainted. More and more corpses and skeletons approached from where the wave went, with seemingly no stop to them.

“My turn, I suppose.” nonchalantly shrugged Bastian, pushing his skeleton ‘friend’ away before unholstering two flasks from his belt.

“...? Flasks? Bastian, this is no time for a drink!”

Bastian simply responded with a smirk, turned around and, with a trained flicker of the thumbs, opened both flasks. Faster than thunder, two azure glistening tendrils emerged from the containers, cutting forth a swath of undead with no problem, burning them in contact and reducing them to white ashes. The tendrils then became blasts of water that covered all the undead, burning them and weighting them down.

“What...? The water is burning them!? What is this?”

“Oh, don’t have a knicker twister over this. It’s just one of the most basic and historied blessings in the history of blessings: Holy water.”

As the undead lay burning, the stronger, bigger corpses, clearly not belonging to humans and yet too maimed and decayed to be identified, still tried power through the soil wet with holy water. “But, see, that’s not all. The real point of what you are looking at is...”

The water beneath the corpses suddenly and unnaturally sprung up in the form of a thousand spikes, piercing their bodies like cruel spears, impaling them and burning them from within.

“....Hydromancy. Nothing too complex. I suppose you could call this something cheesy like “holy hydromancy”, but eh, it’s just splashing water that burns around, no? It doesn’t need a prim and proper introduction. There’s gonna be a lot more of them, so I’ll finish what I was saying later, for now, let’s--”

Mere seconds after Bastian had rolled up the sleeves of his coat and had retracted all water back into his flasks, an act Vinn noted with subtle shock, a weird metallic sound reverberated from Bastian. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, Bastian produced an empty soup can, and he placed it against ear as if it were a phone. “What is it? It’s about to get real busy, so please just--”

“BASTIAN! Get out of there!” a feminine voice clearly yelled from the soup can. “There’s a lot of undead in there!”

“Ow, my poor ears, you-- Dani, we know, that’s exactly why it’s about to get busy, I am about to grab ‘em by whatever is left of their sphincter and--”

“The problem is not the undead! Chief Toshiro ordered a Siren deployment! S-she’s already on her way there, get out of there while you can!”

Vinn didn’t quite get what this ‘Dani’ person meant by “Siren deployment”, but there was no point in asking: It had to be really bad, judging by how Bastian had gone fully pale. “...Bastian? Oi, what’s a ‘Siren deployment’? Is everything--”

“Everything is very god damn bad, Ingram. Grab the necromancer, we are getting out of here.”

“Should I go get the car?”

“I said to grab her, we are getting the hell out of here, now!” -- the hydromancer looked around frantically until he noticed a nearby hill -- “Up that hill, we need to get there!”

Vinn had no clue what was going on, but he knew it had to be bad if the guy that was effortlessly mowing down scores of the undead was suddenly running with his tail between his legs. “Miss Necromancer, can you walk? We need to get out of here immediately.”

“...? You... Are not here to smoke me...?”

“We are here to ask you some questions, but that’ll have to wait, we’ll have our conversation back at the office, but for now, we need to get out of here, now.” Further inquiry was unnecessary: The necromancer was clearly going through mana exhaustion and physical fatigue, no doubt from the massive wave of blighted energies that she had unleashed. Necromancy is no easy feat, and just resurrecting one person is considered an achievement among those who practice the art. “Please excuse me”.

Without forgetting to mind his manners, Vinn hoisted up the girl and took to running behind his partner. “Can we make it there in time?”

“Yeah, I just got an idea. Come here, hold onto the girl real tight, and, well, do you like piggyback rides?”

“...Pardon?”

“Piggyback rides, Ingram, do you like them?”

“...You better not be thinking what I think you are thinking.”

“Wow, you’ll get along swimmingly with Nick, I can tell. Come.”

There were no witnesses to see this, no cameras to remember it, no recordings to immortalize it, but on August 4th of the year 33 P.A., a man carrying a girl and riding piggyback on the back of another man flew through the skies, propelled by two powerful jets of water. “You were thinking it!” “It’s do or die!” “Wheeeee~!”

                                                        -------

The exhausted girl is joined by an exhausted man on top of a forest hill that overlooked the whole area. Beneath them, a small horde of undead writhed and crawled, the desperate energies that brought them up pulsating chaotically within them. 

“...I assume you can’t just tell them to go back to sleep peacefully, right?” inquired the barely standing Bastian, clenching an unlit cigarette between his lips.

The girl shook her head. “I-I’m sorry, I would if I could, I panicked back there and ended up raising so many people, I didn’t want to...”

“Accidental necromancy, at that?” Vinn laughed. “You are stupidly talented, man, what a troublemaker... Bastian, now that we are here, what is a Siren?”

The older man’s face grew dire. “You are about to see for yourself, sadly. She’s here.” Bastian pointed towards where the small horde was, and approaching it was a large black truck, completely unlabeled and yet clearly highly armored and advanced. After it got sufficiently close, its doors swung open and an ominous vapor surged from within. Mere seconds later, what looked like a girl in highly advanced armor and a sharp-looking headpiece stepped out. The light blue hair looked even more striking against her silver and dark outfit, and whatever color her eyes were, it was impossible to tell due to the visor that covered them.

“That’s the Siren? What is she wearing?”

“Her coffin.”

“...What...?”

Before anything else could be said, the horde took notice of the girl and began rampaging towards her. In a hurry, the black truck left, and the girl was left all alone in front of the violent ocean of muscle and rot. With a delicate gait, the girl simply pointed forward and opened her mouth.

“Laaa~”

A beautiful sound, like the song of a bird. A fragile melody, demure and warm. A sweet chime, simple and clean.

That is not what came out of the girl’s mouth.

The sounds that came from her mouth were twisted and abnormal. They could be heard clearly, as if someone’s fingernails raked against a blackboard right next to your ears. They had a certain echo different from the one we are familiar with, a sound between tragedy and euphoria, a tone that doesn’t know whether it wants to continue forever or not exist anymore. The cacophonous sound wasn’t a voice, it was something hellish and torturous that was pitiable more than terrifying. A sad, sad catastrophe. And when the sound which cannot be described as anything except audible anxiety came, so came those who obey it, those who pledge a knee to the sounds that never were meant to be heard. 

Faster than the eye could see, flashes of dark and silver ripped through the horde, tearing apart whatever they could find with vicious maws. Those not immediately caught by the beasts were instead obliterated by flying masses of metal and ordinance that responded to the song that the Siren monotonously sang, loud explosions decimating not only the horde, but also the forest. At no point was this fight fair: The Siren didn’t even have to lift a finger, because just by producing her “voice”, an army of robotic hounds and ravens, summoned from seemingly nowhere, had already decimated the area. The undead horde was no more. The trees were no more. The animals and insects that lived there were no more. The nearby house were no more. The land was scorched and sterile, a combination of cruelty and sacrament working together to cause as much irreparable damage as possible, the epitome of excessive force with no guilt to speak of behind it.

Truthfully, this was a tragedy.

“...The forest, the houses... What the hell was that?!”

“Calm down, Ingram.”

“That’s excessive! What about the people in those houses!? What about the nature that was harmed!?”

“...This is a forest to the side of a suburban neighborhood that already doesn’t have much people in it. Those who lost their houses, assuming they didn’t lose their lives, will be explained to the media as victims of accidents, such as gas leak explosions. Those who unfortunately died, if any, will be reported as missing persons. Mundane police will look for them, exhaust resources on their search, and then give up. They will be another number on top of the disappearances.”

“That’s...!”

As Vinn stared at the little monster that had done this, from quite afar, she looked right back at him, dead in the eye, paralyzing the young detective. Around her, the shapes of dark and silver had finally settled down after the carnage, and there she stood, among a veritable army of dog-looking constructs coated in the massacre they just partook of, flanked by an airborne squadron of bird-like machines, which flew in circles above its master. Soon after, the unlabeled black truck returned, and the little monster calmly went inside, disappearing inside the ominous carriage as it drove away at last, the hellish cybernetic army dispersing with the same speed it appeared.

“...Bastian, how long has this been going on for?”

“Years. And you never heard a word of it in the Academy. No one did.”

“...What the fuck is wrong with them!? Who is behind this!?”

“Vinn Ingram, listen to me.”

Bastian’s sudden call made Vinn freeze and finally calm down for a second. He had his attention.

“I will continue what I was saying before, so listen well,” he said, putting out the cigarette and looking at Vinn straight in the eyes. “I don’t care about what you are, Ingram. I only care about your attitude and your efficiency. You showed me today you can handle yourself, you showed me today that you dislike what you see, that you don’t like this subterfuge, all these secrets and the ‘smoking’. Ingram, I agree with you. The Exorcists are a bunch of bad eggs, very bad eggs. There’s very few good ones among us, very few that still take protecting citizens, Humans and Mythics, seriously. It’s become a hunt, it’s become an abuse of power, an abominable we versus them scenario, and that’s never what it was supposed to be! Mythics are people, just like you and I, but somewhere in the MAB, something has gone rotten and wicked. This is where you come in, Ingram.”

Bastian extended his hand towards Vinn. “I am still not fully sold on you, but today, you showed me your heart is in the right place. Will you help me, help us, find the parasite that lurks within this body and extract it? Will you help us turn the MAB into what it was truly meant to be? The entity that makes this fucked up, amnesiac world into a peaceful place for Human and Mythic alike, where there’s no need for secrecy, where we can all hold each other’s hands? Will you help me, Vinn? So no more Sirens have to scar the earth? So no more Mythics have to be sold to slavery? So no more Mythics are kept caged as if they were exotic pets, god damn it?!”

“I will.” answered the younger man without missing a beat. “I don’t like what I’ve seen and heard one bit. I graduated with one thought in mind: To change the world for the better. It sounds like idealistic dribble, but I truly do mean it. I want Mythics to have the same safety as Humans, the same rules, the same opportunities. I will help you, no, I insist you let me help.”

The two shook hands, and Bastian smirked. “... I mentioned how I am not fully sold on you yet, right? Well, don’t worry too much about it, it’s easy to find a way for you to prove yourself in that one last regard I need to confirm, but for today, damn, let’s call it a day.” -- he turned to the necromancer -- “Oi, you. What’s your real name?”

“H-Hrodwyn, sir. Hrodwyn Eir.”

“Oh, Norse, aren’t you? Well, you should be able to stand up now. You heard us, we don’t care about smoking you in the slightest. Hell, even if we did, we have explicit orders to bring you back alive, so please, ease up already. I’ll be interrogating you later, but for now, you’ll hafta stay at the Office for a while. Don’t worry, you didn’t commit any actual crimes.”

“R-right, thank you, sir.” replied the nervous necromancer. “Um, I guess I can explain my motives, but we should leave that for later, right? In fact, you look kinda worn out, I’m a nurse, so let me check you out, maybe I can help!”

“Right-o, you keep your hands to yourself, missy, I got no interest in being a corpse. I care about my complexion.”

“Aww, alright... I just wanted to help...”

“Let’s get going, then. God damn, we should’ve accepted some of the donuts, after all. I’m starving.”

“Haha, yeah, we should go for some donuts on the way back, honestly.” added Vinn.

“Actually, yeah, Necro here is paying for ‘em for the trouble.”

“But my name is Hro--”

“Shit’s too hard to say, you’re Necro now.”

“A-aww...”

          Of hospitals, Hippocratic... Suggestions, and a lot of cyber dogs:                                 -- Chapter 1: First Day At The Job --                                      -- Chapter 1: Reality Check --                                                          End...?

--Hours later, at night that day--

A new suit, wrinkled and dusty.

A new tie, finally undone and recently worn.

A hearty dinner, still in the making.

Today was finally over.

Vinn Ingram grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge -- his favorite -- and was about to turn on the lights of his living room, when he noticed he was not alone. In front of him, a female silhouette with large horns and wings stood in the darkness, the window that leads to the night open behind her. The daemonic presence seemed to have had noticed the apartment owner’s return, as its bright eyes stared inside Vinn’s green own.

Setting the bottle down, Vinn slowly approached the mighty and intimidating creature, reached with his hand, and... Yanked her by the horn hard.

“Simeag! What in the world are you doing here!?”

“A-Aaaaaah! H-hey, woah, stop pulling by my horn, you bully! P-please stop, I am getting dizzy! Vinn, come on, be nice to your sister!”

The young man let go of the horn of the girl with the long, dark red hair, and immediately as he did, the demon rushed him, trapping him in a big ol’ hug. “You! You have no idea how much we have missed you! And that’s the first thing you do as soon as you see me!? I even showed myself in so as to not bother you! Vinn, you are too much sometimes!”

“Hggg... Sis... You’re... Crushing me... Pfff, hahaha... Ah, it’s good to see you, Sim.” finally let out the suffocated Vinn, hugging his sister back softly. “You have to understand, though! It’s really dangerous for you to be here in Stroln! What if humans see you!?”

“I just eat them, then”

And Simeag earned herself another Horn Yank.

“I’M KIDDING, I’M KIDDING, I just came to say hi and check on you, since you start working today! I made sure to not be seen, and they won’t catch me in the dead of night. Ah, well, Mom told me to tell you that she--”

“--That she’s suffering from an intense, mortal poison, and that the only way to cure her is for me to go back to Oflans.” “--That she’s suffering from an intense, mortal poison, and that the only way to cure her is for you to go back to Oflans.”

The siblings looked at each other and laughed.

“Good ol’ mom is fine, I take.”

“She sure as hell is. Lim also says hi, and... Aw, EVERYONE says hi! We wanna know when you are going to come back to visit!”

There were many ways to describe what Vinn’s face looked like right now, but the most apt is definitely “a goofy, genuine smile”. Vinn went to the kitchen and got another bottle of juice, which he casually tossed to Simeag. “...I just started work, so I dunno when, but as soon as I get some days off, I do plan on going back.” There were many ways to describe what the demon girl’s face looked like right now, but the most apt is definitely “a goofy, genuine smile”.

“That’s great! Ahaha, it’s just... It’s so nice to see how much you’ve grown, bro. You look worn out, though, rough day?”

“Very.”

“Haha, darn... Well, I really want to stay and chat for more, but... The time.”

“A-ah, yeah...”

“It’s fine, though, I’ll tell Mom, Lim, and everyone else that you are doing great! I wish I could’ve stayed for longer, but you’ll get your break eventually! Oh, yeah, Lim and I managed to sneak out a little something for you. It’s in the envelope on the sofa.”

“Ooh, what it is?”

“A surprise~”

Simeag approached her little brother and gave him another hug, soft and caring this time, which the young man who tried as hard as he could to not look sad returned.. “We’ll see you soon, ‘kay?”

“Mmhm. Love you, sis, say hi to Mom, Lim, and everyone else for me.”

“Love ya too, we all do, every day.”

With that, the demon unfurled her wings and flew into the dark night of the city. As much as he wanted her to stay, Vinn knew it was dangerous for demons to be in Stroln, and so he had no option but press her so. As he downed the bottle of juice, he couldn’t help but wonder what was inside the mystery package, until he took a better look at it, and recognized the shape. “Wh-- No, no no no...”

And when he undid the leather package that contained it, Vinn almost felt his heart jump out of his throat. “What the--! Sim and Lim, you are crazy! How the hell did you-- Oh man, no one can see this...”

                                                         End

[c-jacksonn]

Visitor

request ; Can I request a Chris x reader where Chris is like some kind of boss and the reader is his girlfriend, but she's Lin's sibling and Lin works for Chris, but it gets like awkward. (I tried to be specific bc I know some writers prefer it to be specific haha.)

requested by anonymous

pairing ; chris x reader

summary ; you visit the office, going through awkward encounters and quite possibly one of the best moments of your life.

words ; 1809

warnings ; nada!

You stepped into the office building happily, greeting Jazzy, the receptionist, with your usual, “Hey!” She already knew why you were there, but jokingly asked, “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Well,” you smiled, leaning on the top of her desk, “I heard that there was a really hot guy working at the post down the street, alongside some dude I’m ‘related’ to, so,” you shrugged, “thought I’d check it out for myself. Think you can hook me up?”

“Hmm…” she laughed, “maybe. Gonna need a name though.”

“Y/n,” you laughed, watching her pull out pre-made badge with your name and picture on it.

“Seems I’ve got just the badge, Ms. Miranda. Mr. Jackson seems to’ve known you were coming,” she commented slyly, handing it to you and smiling, “y’know, I expect that badge to say Jackson sometime soon.”

You laughed wistfully, sliding the lanyard around your neck and straightening it out where it hung on your chest, “As do I, Jaz. Thank you, anyway.”

“‘Course, now go find your man,” she waved you away, giving you one last award winning smile before you turned and walked to the elevator. Your light, tan-boot clad steps echoed throughout the small yet elegant lobby, filling you with a sense of familiarity.

You’d been here many times prior to this. In the beginning, you’d only come to visit your older brother, Lin, but once you met his boss, Chris, it started becoming partially to see him, too. Lin hadn’t really known about your visits to his boss’ office, as they were something you wanted to keep private, but once you and Chris decided to go on a date, Lin was one of the first to know.

“You know it’s going to be awkward, right? My boss and my little sister, going out?” He’d asked that night, helping you pick out your clothes.

“I know, I know. But I’m not that much younger, so I wouldn’t consider it that bad. And plus, you probably won’t even see us acting as a couple at the Post.”

“You’ll still be coming to the get togethers at my house with V and stuff… will I have to act like an employee or like his girlfriend’s sister, or his best friend? I’m kind of all three.”

“That’s your choice, Lin-Manuel. Now help me out here, dammit,” you huffed, holding up two pairs of shoes.

You smiled fondly, remembering that night vividly. You had been mindlessly fiddling with your “Honorary Employee” (Chris had decided that you were worthy of more than visitor, so he dubbed it that) badge while you recollected, running your fingers around the edges of the plastic object. When the elevator dinged, you stepped out with a small smile on your face and your hands at your sides.

Your feet seemed to remember the path to Chris’ office better than your mind, so you were already headed in that direction. A few workers stopped you and said hi, asked you how you were, all the usual conversations, but the majority were busy trying to get in touch with their resources or various secretaries so they could get a time and place to meet up with someone and get some information on the story they were working on.

You’d seen Chris like that, but it’s rare that he does any stories anymore ─ ever since he got his own company, he’s had a lot more to worry about than some quick read about the newest football player for the Giants or an opinion column about whether or not carrots should be sold in school cafeterias (you’d seen it all, especially when you started dating Chris two years ago.)

Once you got to your boyfriend’s office, which had CHRISTOPHER JACKSON, CEO written on a creme colored plate beside its door, you went in without knocking. Your smile only became more prominent when you saw Chris hunched over his desk, his hand moving quickly while his pen scribbled furiously across the paper underneath him.

His brown eyes never looked up at you, only darted around the paper, so he didn’t take notice to who had just walked in. “I’m not sure where you come from, but last I heard, it’s polite to knock. Also, if it’s you, Leslie, I am not letting you publish a story about the damn sewer rats; people see them enough, and they don’t care.”

You let out a huff of laughter, your eyes alight with amusement. “Well, last I checked, I was from New York, and sewer rats?”

Christopher’s head shot up, a smile forming on his face and the balls of his cheeks showing. “Hey, baby,” he said softly, getting up from his desk and walking over to you. You stepped toward him as well, placing your hands on his chest and feeling his hands naturally slide around your waist.

“Hey, Christi,” you smiled, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He kept you there for a few moments, pushing you closer by the small of your back ─ you were pressed together by the end of the kiss due to him.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, his dark, thick eyebrows raising a little. Wrinkles formed in his forehead and his brown eyes darted in between your e/c ones, awaiting your answer.

“Oh, nothing,” you smiled, standing up slightly and pecking his nose, “just thought I’d come visit.”

The only response you got was the CEO’s smile, then your eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward and kissed you again, backing up so that he was resting against the desk and you were in between his relaxed legs. The kissing was leisurely at first, then he turned you around and hoisted you up on his desk and trailed away from your lips.

His lips kissed down your jaw, then to your neck, constantly moving. But just when he was about to come up and kiss your lips again, the door opened. “Oh my God, do you people not know what knocking is?”

He hid you in his chest, something small, but with so much meaning ─ no one else got to see you like that; only him. He turned, sighing out upon seeing who it was, “Yes, Lin?”

You tensed, groaning softly into his shirt. Of course it was your older brother. Of fucking course. Your legs were still around Chris’ waist, and he was still holding you as Lin spoke, “I– Uh– Okay, I just came to, uh, ask you a question– I didn’t mean to– I need to knock next time.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you heard Lin stumble over his words and you could only imagine his face right now. Black eyebrows raised, brown eyes raised, mouth slightly ajar. Chris smiled, looking down at you and kissing your forehead before turning and facing your brother completely. You stood up, fixing your shirt and standing beside your taller boyfriend.

“It’s okay, nerd,” you teased, watching him relax.

“It’s still kinda– kinda awkward, you know,” he said, breaking out of his shock, “walking in on my boss and younger sister kissing. That whole feeling never went away.”

“Then don’t think of it as your boss and your sister,” Chris said smoothly, his large hand grabbing yours. “Think of it as… your two best friends… in love.”

Lin looked like he was mulling it over in his head, his eyes darting between you and Christopher. He was silent for a minute, until he finally said, “Nah, no can do. That’s still my baby sister.”

Chris let out a hearty laugh, looking down and then back up at your brother, “So what was it that you needed to ask me about?”

“I was coming to ask you about the, uh, the thing.”

“The th– oh! Oh, uh, yeah, n–not now,” he immediately turned nervous, looking just as awkward as Lin had moments prior.

“What thing?” You inquired, looking up at your boyfriend to see his cheeks pink, biting his lip and his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Oh, nothing. Just something we’re working on for a story,” Lin responded coolly, smirking at his best friend’s face. “The story of a lifetime, as I heard Chris call it.”

“Well if it’s the story of a lifetime, shouldn’t I know of it?” You reasoned, looking at Lin questioningly.

He raised his hands in surrender, “Don’t look at me! That’s up to Mr. Jackson. Speaking of which, I think my phone’s ringing, so I, uh, gotta go. Good luck, Christi!” Lin quickly walked out and shut the door.

“Lin-Manuel, you call me that again, you’re fired!” Chris joked, sighing and smiling while his head hung. “God that kid.”

“What’s with this story, Chris?” You went straight to your question, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly.

He let out a nervous chuckle, breathing out deeply, then walking behind his desk and pulling something out of the top drawer ─ a drawer he always kept locked. “I– There was something I had to get for the story…”

When he trailed off, you looked down at his hands and seeing a black velvet box resting in his palm. Your eyes widened and you looked back up at him, “Chris…”

“I wanted to name it the Story of Us… but I needed someone to help me write it, and I– I want that to be you. So, will you help me write the narrative and be my wife?” He got down on one knee, looking up at you with the most genuinely happy brown eyes you’d ever seen.

Your hands covered your mouth, your eyes tears up, and you kept stuttering over your words. Finally decided words would do no good, you vigorously nodded, letting him take one of your shaking hands while he stood up to slip the engagement ring on. His eyes, too, were filled with tears as he met yours once more and you knew you’d never been happier than in that moment.

He pulled you to his chest, hugging you as tightly and as close as possible. You were smiling through your tears; everything was good about today ─ every single thing.

And then Lin walked in again.

“So, did you ask– oh! You did! Yay! Oh, wait, am I– I totally am, okay, gonna go, alright, knock next time Lin,” he scolded himself as he walked away, shutting the door to Chris’ office.

You heard Chris chuckle softly, before pulling up from the hug and looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. With his thick eyebrows knitted together, he whispered, “I love you so goddamn much.”

“You’ve no idea, Christi,” you whispered back, stretching up a little to meet his awaiting lips in a “seal the deal” type of kiss. Everything was good, everything was perfect. Everything was right about this narrative.