#but hell the brackets seemed smaller back then

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Me, reading a battle manga, with battle in it: Why is there so much battle? Who reads this?!

[darcytaylor]

I'm so glad I discovered your blog! It's nice to see people have similar opinions on LN. Tbh, he was the cast member I was most concerned about when I initially saw (what I consider to be) the poor writing (and editing) of P2 because he doesn't have the same body of work that the others do to point to and say, see, it's not me! I also think he's going about his career all wrong, but it doesn't seem to occur to him that he is? It's very strange, maybe he's surrounded by yes-men? I genuinely think he's one serious dramatic role away from setting up a steady career for himself, but at the same time suspect that his team is putting him forward for trash projects that ultimately won't do anything for him in the long run.

I actually think he should age up his styling/demeanor because the way he's presenting is too young. I know that the conventional wisdom in acting is to stay up for younger roles as long as possible. However, the issue is that there's a sizeable crop of older Gen Z/Zillenial actors who are killing it right now and if he's going up against them in auditions, he just isn't going to book those parts. What there is, on the other hand, is a vacuum in the 30-something bracket that he could slot into nicely (if he and his team were smart) now that the Redmayne generation has aged out. There's so much he could've done to capitalize on his current popularity, but he's descended into a glorified model. Only booking an animated film and a play with how big the show has been is... weird to say the least. It certainly isn't due to a lack of talent. No short films, even as a favor to a friend? No music videos? Hell, a smart manager would've had him at least drop an EP or do a duet with a reasonably popular singer. He doesn't have any friends who are writers/directors to make a push to get a project made for himself? He's in a position now to try something like that, but I'm not sure he knows it. It all feels like he's spinning his wheels right now.

As to the young gf, on some level, if he's not ready for certain things, I'd actually rather he not waste the time of someone his own age because that's when women start to think about major life milestones and all that sort of stuff. He clearly has some things he needs to get out of his system first. Appreciate you!

I am also very confused as to what Luke is trying to do with his career. I guess from the outside looking in, it seems like he can't get it together, or figure out what direction he wants to go in.

But I am also not in his industry and don't exactly know the ins-and-outs of how everything is done. While I can take note that it seems like he may be spiralling, or confused as to where to take his career, at the end of the day I have NO idea what he is thinking and doing behind the scenes.

His industry is also a very hard one, even when you have a name behind you. It is very competitive so I can sympathize and also wonder if he is auditioning for things but just not getting any call backs.

I also think that some of the drama that he has found himself in has probably set him back professionally behind the scenes, and I think that laying low and not causing too much of a scene may be a good thing (if he doesn't have any jobs lined up).

But then going to smaller events and keeping his name out there a little may also keep the peace for a while, not cause issues and focusing on putting his name in the good graces of professionals and industry folk.

Another thing that could be happening is that he does have some things in the works but he is not allowed to talk about them at the moment. While I don't really have too much hope for this, it could be true! Or maybe he is just happy to wait for Bridgerton season 4 and is only waiting on that to start back up again.

I don't really agree with your statement about him dating young women because age appropriate woman are thinking about milestones. Or that he would be wasting their time. I don't love the narrative that it creates. When you start any relationship you should always voice what you are looking for, your needs, your wants and what direction you see it going/want it to go, communication is key.

But I think that many women who are Luke's age can also be looking for the same thing that he is or are also trying to work through things. Just because you are a woman doesn't automatically mean you want to settle down, have a family, get married. I know lots of women Luke's age that don't want any of that right now.

Most of my friends who are having children are in their late 30s. It's not uncommon for people to start a family at that age anymore. So even if Luke decided to date someone in their late 20s, it would be age appropriate, and I'm positive that he could find one that was on the same page as him emotionally, professionally, and there wouldn't be such a power imbalance.

(also I appreciate you as well! I love a good dialogue between people. It gives different perspectives and even if I don't agree with certain things, doesn't mean I don't want to hear what others think! So thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts, and joining in on the conversation)

[vinciwolf]

Loyalty Pt 8

(Recom)Na’vi!Miles Quaritch x (fem)Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN, EVENTUAL NSFT, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, capture, romance, reader is female

Warnings for this chapter: the series FINALE, violence, action, fighting, blood, gore, death, cussing, a tiny bit of fluff if you have a magnifying glass.

Notes: Na’vi spoken is in [italics and brackets]; inner thoughts are in italics.

Tags: @deliwrites @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @avatar-lover @justasimps-blog​  @mechformers​ @perseny​ @dakotali​ @ragingloser​ @whereireid​ @whxre-bxby​ @miscellaneousfantasies​ @janelongxox​ @myh3artt​ @ducks118

 You had been trapped in this colorless prison for some time since Miles left. When you had finally recovered enough to stand on two feet, bullet wounds still havocking your body under fitted bandages, you were escorted to a basic cell. During that short walk, you realized that this place was still in fact the SeaDragon.

The tinkling of the lights above annoyed you as you sat in isolation, trying hard not to let the earie silence drive you up the wall. Then you heard a commotion through the ceiling making your head peer up, brow furrowed. There was yelling and screaming muffled by the barrier separating you from the world above. Being in the unknown had your leg bouncing. Your ears picked up a new burst of hollering followed by rapid gunfire. Everything rocked and swayed so hard you needed to catch yourself against the wall. Something big hit the SeaDragon while the uproar continued.

You could hear the metal beams inside the ship protest to the massive weight moving around on the docks until that chaotic presence seemed to finally disappear, giving you momentary relief…until you felt the ship moving. And it was moving abnormally fast. Then you were slung to the other side of the room, air being pushed from your lungs as your body slammed into the wall.

Your whole body curled as you groaned from the pain flooding your abdomen. Lifting your shirt, you peeked to see if any blood drained into your white bandages, but when you found nothing, you sighed that luckily the stitches didn’t bust. Now all you wanted to know was what the hell happened. Was Miles alright? Where was Spider in all this mess? And what the actual fuck hit the ship???

You needed to get out of here, so you got to your feet and looked for anything to use to escape.

You threw a chair into the one-sided mirror but it only shuddered, never breaking. Then you had your fingers trying to pry open the door, only to release with a frustrated scream. You hated this feeling… being helpless… then your mind wandered to Sylway. Shame crept inside you. Nothing you did here, then, or in the future will make things right. Jake is probably dead or about to be…but…

Again! Your mind motivated your sorry ass to get up.

You took the chair and were about to fly it into the door but a noise halted your motion. The door to your cell flew open to reveal a face you thought you’d never see again.

“Neteyam…?” You dropped the chair with a loud thud and grabbed the young warrior into your arms, hugging tightly, smaller arms wrapping around your torso in a brief second of happiness.

You let go to then notice Spider.

“Come here!” you cried, grabbing both boys, glad to see they were alive and safe.

“What the hell happened!?” you asked frantically.

“Oh, that was me,” Spider joked with a beaming smile. “I crashed the ship.”

“And Payakan totally messed up those soldiers too, but we’ll explain more later! Let’s go!” Neteyam waved his hand.

You had a pressing question. “Is your father alive?”

“He’s more than fine!” the young warrior replied proudly.

“Yeah, he kicked some ass out there,” Spider added.

Your chest felt lighter listening to their words, but that was short lived when gunfire erupted, your hand pulling the back of Neteyam’s neck low as you shielded him with your body. Graciously, Eywa provided protection from the bullets by allowing you and the boys to scurry just in time behind some equipment. You couldn’t see where the soldiers were that fired at you, heartrate thumping hard against your breast, getting you even more excited when you saw Lo’ak jump down and, using an automatic rifle, blasted holes through the soldiers who were about to find where you hid.

“Holy shit,” Spider breathed in awe.

“Bro, that was insane!” Neteyam cheered his little brother on.

“We can congratulate ourselves later, move,” you begged only for more soldiers to aim their weapons at you, shooting in your direction.

Your hand grabbed Spider out of the way as you watched Neteyam and Lo’ak jump into the safety of the moonpool unharmed, but you were still ensnared by the rage of bullets devastating the environment, unable to dive into the water. So close, yet so fucking far.

“(Y/N)! This way!” the kid shouted, finding a tiny opening amongst the ship’s cargo and smaller vessels.

Following the nimble human, you barely made it away from the chaos only to stumble upon the decks below to witness something more sinister than just armed men.

Ardmore was in her Skel Suit with all the remaining Recoms at attention. The only ones who were missing were Miles and Lyle. Feeling a shift in your gut, there was something about that woman you still couldn’t quite narrow down. Then her voice echoed off the steal walls and gripped your soul, hair standing on your neck.

"As you know, the Colonel has gone soft on me. He's become feral, erratic. His methods are questionable, testing my patience... and trust. On the docks, we were hit by a Tulkun and ambushed by the hostiles, losing countless including a few Recombinants. The captain is still MIA, and the kid the Colonel allowed to be his pet has crashed the ship. This is all becoming one great mess. I've lost faith that he can get the job done, so I'm switching things up. I no longer trust Project Phoenix. I can no longer put my faith in beings that can evolve to become disloyal. As of this moment, I'm retiring the Deja Blu Team."

Your brow pinched together at the General’s last statement, then worried eyes shot to Prager who bravely stepped forward out of line.

“Sir, we’ve been nothing but loyal. You gonna put us on kitchen duty when our Colonel has Sully in his sights!? We’re so close to finishing this!”

It was as if his words fell on ears stuffed with cotton, as an annoyed Ardmore lifted her metallic arm with a huff “—just shut up—” and shot Prager through the forehead.

His body fell limp onto the floor with a crunch as his hallowed skull cracked from the force.

“No!!!” Z-dog shouted before her brains spitted out her skull.

The rest of the Recoms were executed the same way, bodies toppling over. Mansk was shot through the back of his head by a soldier he didn’t see coming. Now his black sunglasses splintered from the hole that gaped where his eye should be. Spider almost made a noise before you caught him in a hug, diverting his eyes from the massacre.

Shocked, your ears turned flat in horror at what you just saw.

Prager

Fucking Prager you shared a stupid kiss with in the half-finished, half-assed Recom issued barracks.

Everyone was dead….

"We need to go," you whispered to the kid, who you felt was shaking.

He peered up and softly nodded his head ‘ok’ before you were making your way to find somewhere to exit this ship of growing nightmares. But as you were sneaking behind crates and various machinery, your tail happened to be so cruel by accidently hitting a metal barrel, disturbing the air with a low vibration.

A soldier spotted you and bellowed, “Na’vi!”

"Run!" You pushed Spider forward away from a thwack of bullets that shot through the metal beams close by, clanking and sparking as they ricocheted.

You were too big to be agile, as the space around you dwindled from the encroaching soldiers following closely behind, limiting the places where you could escape to. But Spider wasn’t challenged, slipping easily past all the works and nooks making you happy that he could get away.

"Come on!" He shouted, an encouraging hand waving for you to follow.

“Shit!” You spat as you ran and dodged what you could, feeling your skin burst open on your arm as a bullet grazed through the tissue.

When you managed to find cover, leaning your back against a wall, you frantically looked around for Spider, who you had lost in the skirmish.

Fuck!

You had to keep moving, so you said a quick prayer before pealing yourself off the wall, holding your bleeding arm, and climbing up a stairwell to the upper deck. The breeze was a small relief allowing you to catch a break for your fatigued lungs, until you heard the click of a rifle. Slowly, you faced the source of the noise and saw Lyle. His focus was serious, gun unshaken.

“Lyle…” you said carefully.

“You killed them,” his voice broke.

Your hand dug into your arm as you tried to stop the bleeding slipping through your fingers, lifting the other in your defense before you argued pleadingly, “I haven’t had a weapon since my capture and if I did, why the fuck would I kill my friends!?”

You could see the falter in the Corporal’s eyes despite his finger never leaving the trigger.

“Please…Ardmore…she…”

That seemed to cause Lyle’s chest to heave strongly as he made his judgement, shaking his chin as he didn’t want to believe your words. But before he could lay his bullets in you, something massive hit the ship again, sending you flying overboard into the water.

You pried your soaked self out of the waves, spitting the sea from your mouth. The rocks under your hands were slippery as you made your way up the wet surface. Then the sky began to dim, eclipse creating a crescent of light as the planets slowly shut out the sun. Looking over to the SeaDragon, the damage was severe. Smoke rose from the engines with fire beginning to engulf the framework. That was when you noticed a Tulkun carrying away Lo'ak and Neteyam by the fin. They were alive. They were safe…but you still couldn't see Spider anywhere.

You hissed when the pain in your arm rang through your muscle, pulsating hot, making you take your eyes off the Sully boys and onto your pierced skin. Tugging off your shirt, baring your torso save for a sports bra and soaked bandages, you wrapped your arm, using your teeth to tug and secure the fabric tightly. A groan reverberated through your lungs at the bruising pull around your arm, blood slowing to a trickle, but your moment of exhaustion diminished when your eyes fell onto the demon that brought you so much agony.

You glared through your brow watching Ardmore before eyes widened when you saw what she had in her grip. A glimpse of Spider’s blonde locks startled you.

No…

He struggled and yanked in her hold being tugged along roughly until they walked out of view.

You couldn’t let the General live another day, even if it meant that this night could be your last, you wanted her dead. Gathering your rage and picking yourself up on shaky legs, you dived back into the ocean.

Night was here and you were ready to hunt.

Eywa give me strength.

~

Emerging from the water with careful silence, you climbed into death’s mouth. Bodies littered the SeaDragon deck, one catching your attention. It was Ja. Patting through his clothes, you found a sizable knife. Continuing over the mess, fire blazed around you so warm that your skin cooked under the heat. Everything was loud and chaotic as the whole ship screamed while its framework and gears broke apart. This had you thrilled, even feeling blessed, because you knew Ardmore couldn’t get away.

Then you came upon a distant clanking echo. As you advanced toward the sound, you saw the dark outline of a small body. Fidgeting with his restraints, Spider was tied to a railing. He grunted and swore under his breath until he noticed you running to him.

“No! It’s a trap!” Your knife sliced through the orange handcuffs as he shouted.

You didn’t listen, more focused on being glad that he was live, a little scratched, but alive, briefly kissing his fuzzy hair. Then Ardmore sprang from above out of the shadows with a roar, spear colliding with the metal floor where you once kneeled, dodging her attack thanks to your better hearing.

“Spider, GO!” you yelled. “NOW!!!”

Without hesitation, he listened and dashed away, jumping into the black sea with flashlight in hand.

The General adjusted herself in her Skel Suit, straightening her form, gripping hard against a double-bladed spear. It looked custom made for killing larger pray…for killing Na’vi.

“I was hoping for Jake, but you’ll do. Either way, they’ll come…one for his whore, the other to kill,” she taunted.

Lifting the hand that held Ja’s knife, your fangs bared themselves followed by a low, vicious hiss as you challenged the tiny human needing a metal skeleton to match your strength. The fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade readjusted and curled tighter preparing, your other hand balling into a fist in front of you as counterbalance.

“I’m gonna butcher you…then when I’m done, I’ll kill your whole family starting with that little brat!” Ardmore seethed.

With the wrath of a taronyu, a mother, a mate, you barreled toward the enemy, Sylway’s spirit making your legs bolt fast like you were flying.

~

Spider gasped and propelled his legs and arms to keep him afloat, clambering onto some rocks. Laying down on his back, he could feel the rapid pulse of his heartbeat in his stomach.

"Spider!" Miles cried out.

The kid shot up. Finally, someone who wasn’t trying to kill him.

"Are you alright!?” The Recom searched the boy for any wounds.

“(Y/N)! She’s alive! Ardmore! It was her! She—she—! Prager’s dead—they’re all dead! She killed them all!” Spider stammered, still recovering from the tiring swim.

"What the hell are you saying, kid!?"

Gulping down some more air, Spider yelled, “Ardmore killed them! Mansk, Z-dog, Prager, Lopez! (Y/N) is still on the ship—she got between me and Ardmore so I could get away! She’s gonna die!”

Miles ground his teeth. Everything he lived for, everything he was told to be, the human legacy of Quaritch he was meant to preserve, felt bitter and alien. The Recombinants were commodified and expendable. Miles shook his head, patting his vest to see how much ammo he had left to find nothing, so he unsheathed his blade and took a deep breath.

Focus.

“Spider, where is she?” he asked firmly.

“She’s on the weld deck, near the moonpool.”

Spider’s eyes filled with concern as he noticed the calculating look that Miles was giving the distance, watching the burning SeaDragon. From where the Recom stood there was movement in the distance that directed his attention from the ship, over the black ocean, to a small cluster of boulders. Jake and his family huddled together recovering from the battle. A bold and stupid idea formed in the Recom’s mind.

“You’re crazy…” the kid said honestly, a little fearful.

“You got any better ideas,” he responded.

After a brief swim, Spider and Miles came upon a stretch of rocks that would be their pathway to approaching the Sully family. The kid went ahead to be a friendly face before the Recom would expose himself to whatever anger Jake and his wife held toward him. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t terrified, heart pounding in his chest at this insane move.

“He’s what—!?” Jake yelled at the kid.

Then Neytiri hissed, drawing her bow, as Miles made his way very carefully over the slippery rocks, palms empty in the air.

“Wait!” Spider pleaded.

Jake stepped forward with rifle pointed.

“Take one step closer—!” he warned.

Keeping his hands up, Miles breathed a little slower, finding the right words.

“I need your help. They have (Y/N).” His tail curved down, slightly tucking between his leg, hearing the clinking of the rifle trigger ready to fire through him any second.

Worry in her eyes, Neytiri’s ears curved back before she turned her head at her mate. Hearing that you were in danger, after too long being separated, made her want to run and kill every single human who dared touch you. She wanted you home.

Tuk whimpered your name, hugging a little tight around Kiri. The rest of the Sully children’s faces etched with fear for your wellbeing.

“You can kill me when this is over…just please…save her…help me save her,” Miles steadily begged.

“Why the hell do you care about someone you held hostage for months!?” Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Because he loves her…” Kiri’s soft voice spoke up.

The small comment from his daughter had Jake looking back at her and then to Miles, studying the way the Recom’s eyes fell shut with his lips tightening, almost afraid to hear the words that bound him to you spoken aloud.

Neytiri shot a look at Miles. Jake only released some air with a subtly of irony playing at the edge of his lips. He must’ve truly looked like a demon from where he held his hands up in the shadows. The only source of light on him was the burning flames of the SeaDragon reflecting off his shiny skin that appeared navy in the dim light. Spider then stood in the space between Jake and the Recom.

“Saving her life, that’s all that matters,” the boy added.

“Dad…” Kiri placed a small hand on her father’s shoulder, head tilting as she studied the Recom.

There was something in those eyes of the young Na’vi Miles couldn’t quiet place. She could see the change in him. She understood what he needed from Jake.

“Then let’s get it done,” Jake answered.

~

Your one lid swelled over your eye, covering your vision. You had fought hard, dodging the General’s attacks until she had managed to slice through your calf that made it difficult to move. Then she had you under her, using her metal hands to punch your face until you submitted, mouth filling with blood and staining your teeth.

Legs long collapsed from fatigue, you slouched against the pole your hands were currently locked together around. Your ear perked up when you heard the whirring of Ardmore’s Skel Suit as she steadied herself behind you. Her men stood guard anxious. All they had to do was wait.

“They’ll come…one for his whore, the other to kill.” Her words played inside your head over and over, making you grind your jaw tightly as the blood from your nose and forehead dripped over your face.

Then you heard screaming in the distance.

The killing had begun.

Ardmore motioned for her men to advance and fight, leaving fewer soldiers at her disposal. You smiled weakly, teeth red, thinking it funny how she’d run out of men sooner or later in her desperation to weed out Jake from the darkness.

Eventually, only five men stood with the General, ready to piss themselves.

Your heart beat faster when you saw Miles tossing a dead man aside as he approached the weld deck, blood speckled along his skin and face.

“Hold your fire!” Ardmore vocalized.

The Recom halted his stride, knife in hand dripping with blood.

“You betrayed me, Colonel.”

The only response Miles gave to the General’s comment was with a swipe from the back of his wrist over his dirty mouth, cleaning the gore off his face.

“I know you’re infatuated with this one—” she yanked your head back by the braid causing you to whine “—now all I must do is wait. You came for her…Jake will come for you. Hell, I might even get a kick watching you two fight.”

“Anyone who still has an ounce of self-preservation left in them: RUN.” Miles’ tone was stern and commanding over the blistering air, sparks flying from the crumbling debris.

It was funny how title and rank meant nothing when the odds stacked unevenly against selfish men. The remaining soldiers that stood around the General fled for their lives, believing in their own best interest before sacrificing themselves for a lost cause.

“Get back here!” Ardmore screamed, but it was too late. She was alone.

Miles then took a step.

“Don’t test me!” she seethed.

The sting of a blade pressed firmly into your throat as your head was held back uncomfortably by the lone woman’s metallic grip on your hair. But then the presence of the knife left you neck unexpectedly, only for your eyes to widen as you felt your braid being pulled taut.

You felt the whole world still, your whole body frozen.

Ardmore placed her blade at the underside of your braid near your scalp.

“If I don’t get to have Jake, you don’t get to have her,” the woman heckled.

“Just kill her!” you yelled, head painfully tugged when you spoke.

“Stop!” Jake hollered as he hurtled himself over some cargo. “Let her go, and you can have me!”

“We can do this another way!” Miles shouted at him,

“Do you love her or not!?”

The Recom was taken aback before he realized his pause.

“Yes, I do,” he answered evenly.

An arrow shot through Ardmore from behind. She stumbled forward, letting your hair go, gasping as she peered down at the massive arrow head stuck through her chest. Then another sliced into her body, this time causing her to completely lose control of her footing and faceplant into the deck. Her blood pooled under her while she took her last breath.

Neytiri jogged into the light, hissing at the dead body, before turning to you and cutting your restraints with her knife. You were weak, falling into her arms. She hugged you and kissed the top of your head.

“Thank you, Great Mother!” she praised.

Finding enough strength to stand with the aid of your sister, you found yourself pushing away from Neytiri gently as your feet shuffled you to your mate.

Miles grabbed hold of you tightly with a hand cradling the back of your head. You cried into his chest. He found your lips and kissed you repeatedly before picking you up and carrying you away.

He had you.

You were safe.

It was over.

[atalana]

hey! I have been meaning to get xkit for a while now and you seem to be well versed, any advice, pointers, or places where to look? the new layout is hell for my brain to navigate

hey! and yeah, i've been using xkit since at least 2014

it's been through a lot of updates and changing hands as people have stopped working on it and new people have started, but they've kept it called xkit for conveniences sake

the most recent version, the one that's still updating, is xkit rewritten, this is a fairly bare bones version in that it's solely about fixing things staff have done to the website + adding accessibility options - this extension will show up in your browser extension toolbar and can be modified from there. this doesn't have a fix yet to fix the twitter layout (i'll get to that), but its most recent update was fixing the fact that you can't click on urls to go to specific posts anymore - if you look under tweaks, and "restore links to posts in the post header" (or worded along those lines, on mobile atm), that'll fix that. and feel free to have a playaround with the other stuff it can do!

new xkit is the version that existed before that - this shows up as an additional icon in the tumblr header (or now the sidebar for the twitter layout). a lot of people will say don't get this, i honestly don't see a problem with it, but this was the xkit that existed for a long time and used to have extensions that modified the website just for fun, rather than solely to fix it. this version is no longer updating and it lost about half its extensions in the process, but the ones that remain still work fine, and if you care for something more whimsical, there's a couple fun extensions left, plus i just find the customisability of extensions easier with this

(new xkit and xkit rewritten can be used at the same time, and i have been using both since i got xkit rewritten - but if you only want one, xkit rewritten is definitely the way to go)

now, if you want to actually fix the twitter layout, xkit isn't what you need, there's two options for that

i use stylus, and this extension, which has so far been working fine for me (minus one slight issue in menu sizing that i fixed with a single line of code, i'll throw details to that in under the cut if it happens to you)

i'm also aware of dashboard-unfucker, which uses a different browser extension, i haven't used this personally, but i know some people have had better luck with it than stylus, so feel free to have a playaround and use what works for you!

(and the author does have a note added in that this version of dashboard unfucker only works with xkit rewritten, it has problems with new xkit, so if you wanna go this path keep that in mind)

but yeah, you should be able to find some combination of extensions that works for you, feel free to get back in touch if you're struggling to install anything, and good luck in your journey of modifying tumblr!

okay so the issue i was having is i think this extension was designed on a very specific screen size, and i'm assuming one smaller than my desktop screen? so it ended up making the menus up the top super wide when opened

i'm not a css expert (honestly if anyone who is knows how to make the other new icons that i don't care about disappear, and realign what's left back over to the right, would love to know how to do that), but i researched enough to add this line in

if you open stylus once this is installed, click manage, and then select tumblr.com, you should be taken to the source code and be able to edit it

around line 281 (after you install it, the preview version has more stuff added in) there's a section titled "Moves the menu so it appears over the top and not in the header", and several lines of code underneath that

somewhere in that list (doesn't matter where as long as it's in the brackets, i've put it under max height for organisation) add "max-width: calc(20vw);" in on a new line (minus the quotation marks, but make sure you keep the semicolon)

basically that just checks the width of your screen and tells the menu it can't be wider than 20% of the screen, which works for me, feel free to change that number according to what works for you, i find stylus very easy to modify, you just hit the save button (i don't think you even have to reload the page, but try doing that if it doesn't work) and it'll make the changes

[respectablesentiment]

A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off. By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her. -- prompt: abandonment, day 5 of elliedina week this is a sequel to day 4, please read 'warmth' first to understand the background. AU where Ellie was never bitten, until she is. set the day after the winter dance. Dina POV.

(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble) | (day 4: warmth)

or you can read ‘gone’ here:

gone

Dina gets the girl. Finally.

They dance long into the night, swaying together until the band packs up.

Ellie had always been so hard to wrangle, reluctant to show up and unwilling to join in. It seemed like all the tension melted from her body when their lips touched, her smile was warm and dopey, her eyes full of hope and disbelief, and all protests about dancing faded in her reverie.

Ellie’s arms around her were warm and protective, her cheek brushing against Dina’s was soft, and Dina just couldn’t stop kissing her.

It felt like a daydream.

Dina wanted to take it slow, not push too soon. They part that night with a tender smile and the promise of tomorrow. She spends most of the night lying awake, grinning to herself in the darkness. She’d cared for Ellie deeply for a long time, felt an instant connection to the awkward silent girl who showed up with tear-stained cheeks and a wistful smile.

There was something about her that stuck out, that both rattled and called Dina to her.

It never really made sense until she saw Ellie with Cat and then the confusing feelings swirling in her stomach crystallised into spikes.

It made her more determined to make things work with Jesse, but they knew that the love between them was just friendship and convenience. She’ll always be thankful for him and his calm presence, a steady ship in the storm, content to sit beside her silently on the anniversaries of darker days and eager to encourage her to follow her heart.

He eyes them warningly the next morning before patrol, running through his normal instructions with an additional plea to be safe.

The sky is clear and the day is bright.          

And then it isn’t.

A snowstorm takes them off the road, into an old library where they lose themselves for a couple of hours until the weather lightens.

Ellie is eager to move on, to finish running the route so they can return without worrying everyone.

They must have been in the eye of the storm then, unknowing and hopeful, ignorant to what was ahead of them.

The sky grew darker and the snow picked up obscuring their vision.

They leave their horses when they spot a lone runner ahead. Ellie slowly creeping forward to grab it. A broken street sign creaking in the wind.

When Ellie is halfway, she freezes.

It takes Dina a second longer to hear it, to registers the groans around them. Staggering footsteps. Then snarls and screeches.

She rushes forward just as Ellie rushes back, grasping at one another before sprinting onwards.

“Run,” Ellie says breathlessly. “We have to run.”

Dina is terrified, scrambling down a steep hill, losing her footing at times and sliding to keep momentum. They pass several houses, twisting and turning in the darkness, and her socks are wet from the creeks they splash through.

They’re so close, just behind them and beside them and ahead of them as they zigzag across the rooftops of buses.

“Here!” Ellie shouts just as Dina feels there’s no escape, vaulting over a fence.

Dina follows, heart racing as they search for a way forward.

There’s Infected slamming on the gate.

A narrow passageway down the side of the building in front of them, protected only by a chain link fence.

Dina pushes Ellie forward, following her closely as they run, the fence crumples under the weight, Ellie’s hand finds hers as they shimmy along, backs pressed to the wall as they attempt to avoid the hands grasping for them.

The fence crumples further, and before Dina realises they are crawling.

Forward, forward, forward.

A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off.

By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her.

Dina shoots before she can think about it.

Pure instinct and adrenaline.

She helps Ellie to her feet, tugging her forwards as more come through the fence.

Ellie looks shaken, blood splattered across her face, but there’s no time.

“Come on, there’s too many,” Dina says. “Run, go!” She covers her, shooting a few as they make it through before continuing.

“Here, here!” Ellie yells, throwing a molotov at the Infected approaching from the other end of the hallway.

They take the door to their right, barricading it before taking a breath. The door slams and jumps unnervingly in front of them.

“There’s so many,” Ellie says quietly.

Dina is panting, her hands on her knees and her heart in her throat. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Doesn’t matter, we gotta find a way out,” Ellie says, her jaw clenched as she moves forward.

Ellie peers through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, antsy and restless.

Dina searches for supplies and weapons as quickly as she can, tossing a steel bar to Ellie.

“Watch the windows,” Ellie says quietly, moments before a runner climbs through.

They put at least four down before they move forward again. It’s only then that Dina recognises where they are, the old gondola station.

Ellie curses under her breath. “Quick, help me with this,” she asks, shutting the door beside them and tipping one of the large lockers into place to hold it shut. “That won’t last long.”

“We gotta move,” Dina says, scanning their surroundings. “The window, we just need a boost.” She’s still desperately searching as they’re rushed again.

They work together to take care of it, aware of the splintering door behind them.

Together they push one of the gondolas back onto a trolley, moving it over to the window to climb over and out.

“Forward, forward,” Ellie chants. “Come on, go!”

There’s more outside than Dina can count, climbing over cars, rushing closer and closer in the snowstorm.

“Here, this door!” Ellie yells, shooting a runner as it comes almost come enough to grab her.

They get inside, lungs burning and Dina holds the door shut as Ellie fits a solid plank of wood in the barricade brackets.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, turning to her, her eyes are wide and fearful as she grips Dina’s shoulders to look her over. “Are you alright? Did they touch you?” Ellie demands, she pushes at Dina’s sleeves, pulls at the collar of her jacket to examine her neck.

It’s only then that Dina sees it.

The stain on Ellie’s sleeve, the tear in her jacket, the bite on her arm.

“You-” Dina stammers, heart cracking in her chest.

“Are you alright?” Ellie demands again.

Dina nods jerkily, clutching at Ellie. “Ellie-”

Tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We can’t stay here,” Ellie says, looking back to the door. “You need to keep moving.”

“Ellie,” Dina sobs brokenly.

Ellie is more focused on another doorway behind them, slipping out of Dina’s grasp to pile things against it. “Help me with this?” She asks, putting all of her weight behind moving a solid table in front of the door.

Dina doesn’t move, watching as Ellie successfully moves the table, stacking more furniture to barricade the smaller door before shifting her focus back to the main door.

Her eyes trace Ellie’s jaw line, the hair escaping her bun, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the constellations of freckles she’d never be able to fully memorise.

“-okay? Dina? Dina!” Ellie pleads. “Are you listening?”

“I- yeah,” Dina says lamely, her thirst dry and her words quiet. Ellie’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green she’d ever seen and she doesn’t know if she’s ever been able to tell her that.

“I need you to go, okay? You need to run. They’re just on this side for now and I can hold them off,” Ellie says, calm and resolute. There’s an edge behind her eyes that Dina’s never seen.

“I love you,” Dina says breathlessly, almost a whisper.

Ellie’s expression falters for a second before it becomes guarded once again.

“I never- I never got to tell you, I didn’t want to push too fast,” Dina says, stumbling over her words as they spill out of her, clinging to Ellie’s jacket. “But I do. I love you, as my best friend and more. I’m in love with you,” Dina continues, pressing herself against Ellie, her forehead against Ellie’s. “I don’t know for how long. You’re my favourite person, you’re wonderful and beautiful and kind and funny, and I love you.” The words rush out of her.

“Dina-”

“You’re so strong and so brave and I love you so much,” Dina says, the words are angry now and she smacks her fists against Ellie’s chest. “I love you so fucking much,” she sobs, hot tears streaming down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Dina,” Ellie says, acknowledging it finally. “I’m so sorry.” She clings to Dina in return, the embrace almost crushing.

The pounding grows louder.

“You have to go,” Ellie pleads. “I need you to go.”

“I can’t leave you,” Dina whimpers. “I can’t.”

“I’m already gone,” Ellie murmurs, the look in her eyes is indescribably and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“Ellie, no, please no,” Dina sobs, vision blurred by tears, heart lying somewhere near her feet.

“Go,” Ellie repeats solemnly. “Tell Joel and Tess that I love them, that I’m sorry, and that I’ll always be thankful for everything they’ve given me.” She cups Dina’s cheeks in her hands, looking at her searchingly.

Dina nods. “I promise,” she stammers.

“I love you too,” Ellie tells her, kissing Dina firmly. She squares her shoulders, the weight of the world bearing down on her. “I’ll hold them off,” she mutters, turning away. “It’s my turn.”

Dina barely catches her words, her heartbeat loud and punishing in her ears. She doesn’t move.

“Please, Dina,” Ellie pleads, looking back to her. “I’m already gone, just go, please!” Ellie pleads, the look in her eyes is indescribable and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“I love you,” Dina repeats brokenly, wiping at her face roughly. “I love you so much, forever.”

“I love you too,” Ellie replies.

Her words sound like an apology.

“Please go.”

So she does.  

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “My Beautiful Sun.”

And end to another arc. And yes I know I am better at writing angst than fluff, so if you guys want some fluff, I am going to need some recommendations or ideas . I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Thursday!

The space above fiery A136 was quiet, a marble of glass hung in a vacuum of darkness. Fire licked silently across the planet’s surface as rain clouds gathered along the border of light and dark. 

The star sone with increased intensity, white hot through the darkness. A myriad of satellites, space stations and the occasional abandoned mining ship orbited the planet systems of light blinking in the darkness.

One of these ships, a luxury civilian transport was on the bright side of its orbit, silhouetted against the fiery star=, the lines of white where the sun hit and pools of black where it did not, making a sharp contrast upon the face of the ship between light and dark.

It seemed a peaceful thing, hanging there in the darkness unsuspecting of thwart was to come.

ON the far edge of the planet’s orbit, there was a sudden whirling and a sharp flash of light as another ship appeared from the darkness.

It was hulking, massive, and painted black against the stars, only its blue highlight strips gave any indication there was a ship there at al. She crawled from the darkness stealthily slithering through the starry expanse until her shadow bore down on the unsuspecting ship.

***

Fiery starlight spilled in through the front window, tinted just enough that they were not completely blinded by its awful magnitude. A figure stood against the burning light, unmoving, arms crossed over his chest.

On his shoulder there sat a smaller figure all colorful fluff and impossibly large eyes.

“Lord Avex….”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Deploy the grapples… and don’t bother to be gentle about it.

***

Sunny sagged against her chains, her legs dumbed from the increased drugs. The dosage they had given her far outweigh any of the other doses that had come before, insuring that she would not move during the procedure. As limp as she was, she worried about her joints dislocating, as her shoulders were the only thing holding her up.

“Hold it steady.” The man ordered, and she could feel the cool, clammy tough of the man’s hand on her lower left arm as the last bit of her forearm carapace was stripped away. The cold was immediate and unpleasant, and the feel of the air against her bare skin made her want to scratch it off. It was a horrible sensation that she detested immediately.

Looking down at her arm, the only thing left there was the grey, gore stained skin cut with abrasions and pale from never having seen the light . The  sight made her sick, as hideous as it was, and she used the last of her strength to turn her head away.

The man held up what was left of the carapace, “Ah, that should be enough for three vials, don’t you think? He walked across the room, and Sunny watched in hopeless anger as he fed her shining armor into the machine, grinding it into powder right there before her eyes. From there it dripped down into three bottles, and held them up to the light, “A little less than I thought we would get, But it should be enough.”

He walked back over the the fancy woman and handed her the vials, which she looked down at with distaste.”

“Is something wrong ma’am.”

She turned to look up at him as if that had been a stupid question, “Not as much as you were expecting? That sounds like you are short changing me. When I came here for three vials.I wanted three vials of the promised size, not a little less than what we were hoping for.”

The man held up his hands in a defensive way, “Ok ok, my apologies. We will get you some more.”

He turned to look at Sunny, and she knew what was coming next.

The circular saw blade began to spin slowly as his partner held it at the ready, lowering his goggles down over his face.

And then the ship jolted violentl.

The man pitched forward, nearly imbedding the circular saw tool in his own face, but catching himself at the last minute. The fancy woman keeled over backwards and hit the floor hard as her shoes unbalanced her, and the third man slammed sideways into the chains, releasing the mechanism that held her up, and causing her to fall to the floor. She didn’t really feel much when she hit, she hadn’t been all that high up anyway.

Out of all of them, her descent to the floor had been the least violent.

One of the men stood, “What the hell was that!”

The massive clatter of metal, was accompanied by the groaning of the ships hull which deflected and popped against the weight of something. Sirens began to go off overhead as the two men leaped to their feet, while the fancy woman struggled just to make it to her knees.

One of them raced over to the coms and slammed their fist against it, “What’s going on up there.”

There was no answer for a long moment before, “We are being boarded, sir!” The voice was frantic, and on the other end of the line Sunny could hear more metallic screeching.

The ship continued to vibrate and scream as the group of men staggered their way across the floor.

Sunny tried to lift her head, but didn’t have the strength.

Her mind moved slowly.

Being boarded.

Could it be?

But no…. That was too much to hope for…. Wasn’t it?

Next to her the other Drev shifted and lifted their heads.

The man pressed the comm again, “Someone do SOMETHING.”

“We can’t, sir they have shielding.”

“Than get rid of their shielding!”

The man on the other end of the line went quiet, “We aren’t going to win this one boss.

“Get the escape pods ready then.” She snarled.

“I can’t sir, its a magnetic grapple field, so nothing is getting out of this.

 THe man howled in frustration.

There was a sharp thud on the outside.

“How could they even get in?” one of the men wondered, “There is no outside access to the airlock.”

Just then another voice came over the line, “Sir, sir something has taken over out internal computer systems…. I I don’t know what it is but I….”

There was a loud THUD from somewhere below them.

“The airlock!” someone yelled 

And that was when Sunny began to laugh. It was so startling, that the entire room went quiet as they turned to look at her. She wasn’t really amused, but there was a part of her, one that was very smug about what she was sure was soon to happen.

“What are you laughing about, scarab.”

She continued to laugh for a long moment, “You’re fucked.”

“What is she talking about.” The woman demanded.

Sunny laughed again, “I know whose ship that is.” 

More laughter

The men looked concerned. One of them pointed the circular saw blade at her, “Tell us!”

She giggled manically, “That’s the Omen.”

“What do you mean the Omen.” The man said nervously, shuffling his feet, “I mean you dim bastard THE omen. The pride of the UNSC fleet…. Captained b Admiral vir and a crew of a thousand men and aliens. Celzex weapons, Vrul shields…. And GRAVITY enabled grappling fields.” She began to laugh again.

“He’s coming…. Hes coming.”

Her manic laughter had clearly unsettled then, and her warning made it all the worse.

“Someone…..I, give me the damn blowtorch.” 

Once given his prize, he thrust it at one of the other men and pointed towards the door. Outside Sunny was just beginning to hear the sounds of distant carnage, “Weld it shut!”

WHen the man didn’t move at first he nearly went ballistic, “DO IT NOW.”

Sunny began to laugh again.

The man still holding the saw blade turned to look at her, viciously kicking her in the side, “Shut up scarab.”

The man at the door was having a tough time getting the idea to work, and with everyone screaming at  him and his hands shaking, it was doing no real good. 

That was probably why the door didn’t last more than a few microseconds. With a loud screech and thunderous bang the door was ripped off its tracks. The six inch thick metal door, not just dented open or blown inward, but kicked out of its brackets and completely detached from the wall all together, with such a powerful force, it slammed into the first man and sent him back gnarly three feet, slamming into the floor, unmoving.

When the sparks settled, and the room quiet, Sunny heard the hydraulic whirr and hiss as two feet clattered against the floor.

Smoke from out in the hallway filtered in through the floor as the figure stood at the door.

The first human, the one at the intercom, raced forward, a steel pipe having appeared in his hands some minutes ago. He swung it at the newcomers head, but it was useless, he cot the steel pipe with the queal of metal against metal, forearm to pipe, and then ripped it backwards out of the man’s hands , sending him flailing to the floor.

The second man came at him with the only weapon left available: the whirring circular saw.

He caught that too on the metal of the exo skeleton and then droe it hard downward, sending the circular saw blade cutting right into the man’s foot and sticking him to the floor. The man screamed long and loud, but his attacker did not heed him, spinning once with a backhanded swing that sent the pipe careening into the other man’s head, with a violent THWACK.

The second man wrenched the saw blade from his foot with a roar of pain, but it was knocked aside and went clattering across the floor as he was punched in the sternum.

There was a sharp crunch as he went staggering backwards and hit the floor very still.

Behind him, a group of other figures poured into the room.

One figure, big and red, grabbed two humans by the backs of their coats and threw them into the nearby wall with a sharp clatter.

The original figure knelt on the floor fist drawn back, ready to send his fist through the man’s head.

“ADAM! HELP HER!”

His fist stopped and grew still. For a moment the man below him looked relieved, but with a sharp blow to the face he was knocked unconscious. 

Adam stood, blurry in her vision as he raced over to her side.

She heard the soft hissing of the Iron eye suit as he knelt next to her.

Strong hands and warm arms grasped around her chest and middle, hauling her partially upright where her head leaned against his chest. He held her tight, tight enough that it should have hurt but she didn’t care.

“Sunny…. Sunny can you hear me?” 

It echoed around and around inside her head.

Carnage nearly drowned him out.

A hand pressed against her cheek, “Sunny, Sunny please say something.”

Her head lolled against his chest as the light overhead faded in and out…

Her body, tense from a month of perpetual fear and anger slowly relaxed and she felt her body sliding downward before he caught her, holding her upright to sag against him.

For the first time in over a month, she was safe.

Her mind knew it.

And her body knew it.

So, it shut her off, allowed her some peace, in the arms of a person who wasn’t about to let anything more happen to her.

***

She didn’t feel the movement, wasn’t aware of the strong arms that carried her from the ship all on his own, wasn’t aware of the hushed voices and the quiet whispering. Wasn’t aware of the days that went by with her stillness and the waiting concern of those around her.

When she finally opened her eyes and awoke it was to soft beeping, and dim blue light. White curtains hung about her, over her head, and for a moment she wasn’t really sure where she was.

It wasn’t the sound at first but the sensations.

Something warm gripping her hand, and gripping it tight, and a soft caress over the skin of her exposed stomach, repeating circles, up the side down to the side and back.

She turned her head very slowly and groggily to the side.

At first she didn’t recognize the face of the man who sat next to her but as her slow brain caught up with her eyes she hummed in confusion and worry.

“Adam?”

The man lifted his head, turning to look at her. Scruffy, gaunt, and supporting about two weeks of growth on his chin and face, but when he smiled at her she knew for sure it was him, brighter than any light in this place. He rested a hand against the side of her face, “I…. i was worried…. You scared me.”

“Sorry” She muttered softly.

He brought his other hand up to the other side of her face leaning down to gently touch foreheads with her for a quiet moment, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it sooner.”

The pain in his eyes made her hurt just to watch and she shook her head, “An entire universe, and you still found me, considering you did it in a month is pretty impressive.”

He gave a weak smile. “If… If i had just been safer during the storm.”

She raised a hand, “Shh…. none of that.”

He trailed off and nodded sheepishly. He leaned forward, “I’m sorry, this… this isn’t about me…. How are you feeling?”

She shifted, and despite lethargy, she was at least able to move, “A bit…. Drugged.”

“Yeah, there were massive amount of paralysis in your system when we found you. Krill has been pulling the drugs out, but he says it may take a few weeks to get back to normal.”

Below her on the bed  She flex and unflexed her lower left hand. She wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to look, but she knew she had to. WHen she turned her head down she grew sick to her stomach. The hideous grey expanse of scarred up tissue and  disgusting pale skin. She turned her head away, but he caught her, hands to the side of her face again.

She let out a shaky breath

“Hey, hey, none of that…. Don’t even start.” One hand still on her cheek, he lowered the other and took her lower left hand in his, “This doesn’t change anything you hear me, nothing at all. Not about the way I feel, and certainly not about the way you should feel about  yourself ok….”

She struggled internally for a moment.

He squeezed her hand tighter, “No matter what, ok.:

She felt as he slid his hand down the inside of her wrist, resting his hand along the strange exposed skin of her forearm. It felt strange, unusual, tingly. It made her cringe thinking about touching it, but he didn’t flinch once, “Don’t you think for one minute that this makes you any less.” She stared into his face and he stared back with a conviction so strong she felt herself starting to believe.

His serious face was broken by a sudden smile, “Besides…. I…. I have something for you.”

The bright smile and excitement filtered over to her and she sat up against her pillows.

“I made it myself!” he announced with pleasure, pausing as he turned around with a box between his two hands.

“I….” He looked down a bit sheepishly, “Don’t laugh alright….. It was my first go but I… I wanted to make something….”

Sunny didn’t even have to see it to know she would love it anyway.

Slowly he handed to box over to her, and she lifted the lid.

Inside, was a polished metal vambrace made of shimmering blue metal flecked with little golden bits on the inside.

She stared.

“Do you like it…. I…. well I made it while you were sleeping,... i mean i would have stayed here if krill had let me, but he sort of forced me to leave and get some rest, of course I couldn’t sleep so I ended up down in your workshop instead, and I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I made this and I thought maybe it would help, and since I remembered that  there was a little bit of your dad’s carapace in my leg, I removed a little piece and used that inside the metal, and I’m sorry if that’s a bad thing or….” She gripped his hand to stop him from rambling.

“Can you, help me put it on.”

The relief on his face was so visible it was almost a sound, and he gently took the metal bracer from the box. He looked nervous as it snapped open and he situated her arm inside.

She had trouble looking at it, but his expression didn’t change once as his fingers brushed over the exposed skin.

The metal was cold against her arm.

He took a deep breath, and snapped the brase close with a sharp snap. 

The strange feeling of the room was now gone, and she was left only with the slowly warming underside of the metal, and the beautiful glittering of the Crude metalwork inlaid with pieces of her father’s carapace.

“Does it fit?”

She lifted her arm and turned it this way and that, admiring the shine of the metal.

She looked up at him, “Not bad…. Not bad at all.” 

He grinned, the relief still evident there. He pressed his forehead against hers for another quick moment before sitting back, “Now rest, or I’ll knock you out myself, you hear.”

She snorted but yawned, “I’d like to see you try.”

“If i can find one Drev in an entire universe, I’m pretty sure I could knock that same Drev unconscious, but whatever makes you feel better, Zhak, hijan chal.”

She closed her eyes.

And fell

Fast

Asleep

[what-the-fic-khr]

getting pretty fixated on this khr x among us au hello. this one is a lot more violence focused than the last one. spun characters on a wheel for this lmao,, writing direct gore or injury isn’t my forte so I guess this au could be practice??

character/s: yamamoto takeshi, gokudera hayato

word count: 1,012

warnings: hm. violence, weapons, blood, gore-ish??? death. gruesome violence that I get into spoiler to the fic but warnings for all the injuries in brackets: (eye injury, attack with a blunt object, choking, snapping of a neck, cutting limbs apart, the mention of stuffing said limbs down a vent)

prompt: they were friends, weren’t they? (Among Us AU)

Sometimes they argued. Yeah, they struggled to get along often, and more often than not one was getting yelled at by the other.

But generally speaking, Takeshi figured Hayato at least liked him enough to try. That’s what mattered most. There were times they got along so well. They had to be friends! They were apart of the same crew and everything!

Well, he told himself that, but still... He wasn’t an idiot. They knew there was an imposter out there. But he’d seen Hayato doing tasks; struggling, but completing them.

Hayato was also just far too loyal to Tsuna to everyone consider betraying him and hurting his friends. There was no way.

“You’re too close.”

“Huh? But there’s not much room to watch the screens.”

Security was an awfully small room, all things considered.

Hayato narrowed his eyes at him before grunting and looking back at the screens.

Takeshi was far too stupid to be the imposter, he’d decided. That, or he’d hurt himself before he could even kill another person. There’s no way he could do it.

“Why the hell are you in here again...?”

Takeshi blinked at this before laughing lightly, shoulders shaking. “That’s an odd question. Tsuna asked me to keep you company.”

Hayato’s eye twitched.

“Said we should try to stay in pairs as much as possible. Gotta look after each other, y’know?”

God, he hated hearing this idiot speak about Tsuna so freely. It grated his nerves something fierce, and lit a fire so hot it could burn him up from the inside.

Still, Takeshi seemed to continue, like he didn’t notice Hayato’s change in attitude.

“Tsuna also really thinks it’d be good to keep two people watching security! Something about, like, knowing that someone isn’t lying about what they saw-“

“Do you think I’d lie?” Hayato’s voice cut him off, tone cold, and Takeshi seemed to turn a little warily at the ice in his words.

“No...? I never said that.”

“Do you believe Tenth would suspect me of lying? Huh? Bastard!”

What on earth was going on?

Takeshi waved his gloved hands around, shaking his head. “No! Tsuna’s not the type to do that! He was just-“

“You don’t know anything about Tenth!”

There was a growl so low in Hayato’s throat that it caused Takeshi to freeze. That was too deep. Too animalistic.

His blood ran cold when Hayato shoved the small office chair out of the way and advanced on him, his lips parting for nothing to leave.

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

He was so, so scared.

“Gokudera, come on-“

“Shut up!”

There was a loud banging when Takeshi was shoved roughly back into the wall of the small room, his head knocking against his helmet painfully.

He couldn’t keep his balance when he was shoved to the ground; had Hayato always been that strong?

He watched with wide eyes when a fist swung down into the eye shield, so strong it shattered glass that dug deep into pools of brown that slowly dyed red.

“A–Ah—“

Trembling hands shot up to his face, but he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see. Not the blue of his uniform, and not the glowing, ugly green of Hayato’s eyes through the thick, protective glass on his own helmet.

It was so dark, and so painful.

“My eyes—!”

Hayato yanked Takeshi’s helmet off, his own pupils blown wide as he swung it down with all the strength he could. He heard bone crunch beneath the force, but he couldn’t tell where the damage had been done.

He didn’t care.

He ignored Takeshi’s short cry of pain, shifting his weight to hover over his body and swinging again, and again, and again.

But the fire in his chest didn’t stop burning. It wasn’t enough to simply beat him to death with a blunt object. It just wasn’t enough for him.

“Do you ever shut up?!” Hayato hissed, tearing his own helmet off so he could glare down at Takeshi, even if he couldn’t be seen.

Takeshi strangled out a gasp, jumping in fear when hands wrapped around his throat.

“W-Why...?!” Bent and twisted fingers clawed pathetically at stretches of red, trying to tug the hands around his neck away. “W-Weren’t we– we fr...! Friends—“

There was no air, too much saliva clogging up his throat, tears and blood staining his face, too much black surrounding him.

Hayato let out a snarl so nasty that it sent a tremor down Takeshi’s spine despite everything else.

“We were never fucking friends! Are you stupid?! I’ve never liked you!”

The eldest tried speaking again, but could only spit up the saliva he was now choking on. It was getting cold.

Hayato’s lips pulled back to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth, each one counting more teeth than the previous one.

“God– I hate you... so much!”

He felt bone break beneath his hands before he heard it, and heard it before he could register Takeshi’s head lolling back limply.

He pulled back, one hand at a time, his breathing heavy and ragged, stuttering in his fit of rage.

Now he had a body, and the fire inside still had not slowed down.

He scanned the messy room quickly to find a place to hide the body, and he only came up with one answer.

For minutes only, with strength so inhumane, he would tear each limb off one at a time, ensuring it was small enough before setting it aside into a slowly growing pile.

Fumbling around for the knife hidden away in his red suit, he used the blade to hack away at any piece that still remained too large.

He had to make them smaller. Smaller, smaller, as small as possible.

Oh, it was a bloody mess, but once he deemed his job satisfactory, he turned and flipped up the grate to the vent, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

One piece at a time.

No one would get any closer to Tsuna, and he would make sure of that.

One person at a time.

[3katanas]

His shoulders almost sagged in relief when she took his hand, thus sparing her from Lady Featherington for at least a little while longer. Out of all the mamas he'd already encountered, she'd been the most....terrifying. Like a hound with a scent, she'd found several ways to push one of her daughters onto him already. Thus the need to escape before he was cornered again, entirely unaware of the rumors and gossip that had already begun circling around him the moment their hands touched.

Fingers closing around her smaller ones he took a step closer to her. "No apology is needed, Ms. Targaryen. I am....unused to being in such a spotlight. It has left me on edge."

Pausing then, unsure of what to say next he instead lead her out onto the dance floor. A dancefloor that had gone oddly quiet and seemed to be emptying slightly. As if the two of them dancing was something of note.....or scandal.

It had his brows knitting as they became one of the few couples remaining on the dance floor. His arms moving on instinct. One hand resting gently on her lower back as he pulled her in closer so that his arms could bracket her as required for the music that began to fill the quieting room.

What the ruddy hell?

Flicking his gaze around for only a moment he then returned it to her, locking it with those strangely colored hues as he watched her for a moment. It was the hesitation and perhaps rising panic that had the hand holding hers squeezing gently to reassure her as the dance began. Silently communicating that whatever was happening at the moment, he had her.

“Uh…I didn’t mean, I—”

Fumbling over her words, stupefaction swiftly seeps into her expression, she had not meant to imply he was no better than the prime cut of steak in a meat market. Though, technically, a meat market is exactly how she would describe these ridiculous balls dripping with opulence, and she was the broodmare draped in silks and gems being paraded through it.

For a moment, she’d forgotten everyone in the room was human and not livestock. That most of the young ladies here, not excluding herself, yearned for the ever elusive love match.

She had not expected to meet a man who hoped for the same.

Deducting, by his sudden cold and dismissing attitude, that she had said more than enough nonsense for the evening, Daenerys bows her head in apology, slowly slipping back to reclaim her place amidst the shadows and gaudy wallpaper where she plans to see out the rest of the evening.

That is until, his hand unexpectedly extends towards her, and again, surprise takes hold of her – A short lived bout of confusion once she notices Mrs Featherington making a beeline directly for him, her eager ( if not mildly clueless ) daughters in tow.

“Oh…” She utters quietly, hesitating at first. Every rational part of her mind screams to reject the offer. The Duke had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into, being seen taking to the dancefloor with her.

An hour of Lady Featherington’s ear chewing is a fair price to pay for the words he would read about himself in next issue of Lady Whistledown’s paper.

And yet, perhaps a little selfishly, Daenerys finds herself reaching back, slipping her hand into his as they encrust themselves into the thick of the ball. The heat of the gazes stalking them around the room feel like hot pokers being jabbed into her skin. Daenerys does her best to ignore them by focusing solely on Zoro, though by doing so, the atmosphere around her suddenly feels a lot warmer.

“I hope you may forgive me for speaking out of hand earlier...I meant no offense to you, your Grace."

[schneesisterss]

oh bees schnees prompts, excellent!! au where weiss went dancing with the bees + fnki after all 💕

This got a little spicy. Thanks for the prompt! I had a great time writing it :)

You can also read it on ao3 here

Enjoy!

/////////////////////

Weiss sat at the bar in the dance club. There was a man sitting next to her, talking, trying to keep her attention. She couldn't tell you his name. His voice was muffled by the music, barely registering in Weiss’ mind. She was too transfixed by the site in front of her. Her heart thumped in rhythm with the heavy bass. On the dance floor, not twenty feet from where Weiss was watching, Blake and Yang were dancing. 

Yang had her whole front flushed against Blakes back as they moved together. Blake's hand was curled around the back of Yangs neck, tugging her in close until they were sharing air. Yang's hands roamed possessively around her hips, guiding, leading. 

Weiss was having a hard time breathing. She had known there was something going on between the two, but to see it happening right before her… Weiss squashed down the feeling of envy. She tore her eyes away with a heavy swallow just to turn and wave down the bartender. Weiss didn't drink, for obvious reasons, but right now she desperately needed a glass of water. 

Team FNKI was around here somewhere too. She vaguely remembers Neon telling her they were going to go out back for a smoke. She asked Weiss if she wanted to come, but she distractedly declined, focused solely on the movements of her teammates. 

(Neon had given her a knowing look, but Weiss didn't see it.)

Weiss doesn't know how she was convinced by the other two to tag along. She was supposed to go to the movies with Oscar and Jaune. Maybe it was the bright and hopeful look on Yang's face when she extended the invitation to Weiss. Maybe it was Blake offering to do her makeup, her smile soft but her eyes fiery. Weiss found she couldn't say no.

“-and so maybe you could come to my place tonight?”

Weiss blinked. She had actually forgotten about the man sitting next to her. 

“What?”

No-name man smirked, like he thought he was flustering her, and turned his body towards her in the chair. Weiss wrinkled her nose as the smell of his cologne wafted through the air, invading her senses. 

“Come on,” he said cockily, “let's go back to my place. I can show you a good time.”

“No thanks.” Weiss clipped, grabbing the glass of water the bartender handed her way, drinking about half, before setting it down. “I’ll pass.” 

An annoyed look passed over the man's face as he narrowed his eyes. “So what, you're not even gonna give me a chance? I even bought you a drink.”

Weiss looked down to the counter. He had bought her a drink. Granted, it was untouched and she didn't even realize it was there until he just pointed it out. He must've done that when she was… distracted earlier. 

Weiss stiffened when she felt his hand slide onto her lower back. His hands felt too big, too commanding. Weiss felt herself freeze up. 

“No.” She said firmly, straightening her spine and stepping away, only for him to follow. “Look, I'm here with my friends. I'm not interested.” 

“Lets go dance then, maybe I can change your mind.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward. Weiss dug her heels into the ground.

“Let go of me!”

“Hey what's your probl-” He was cut off when a couple things happened at once. 

One, something, or rather someone, grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards, sending him reeling away. And two, she was embraced with soft hands, one curling protectively around her waist and the other softly circling the same wrist the man had grabbed. It took her a couple seconds to actually register what happened.

Yang was standing in front of the man, her eyes had flickers of red bleeding into purple. 

“What the hell!” The man got up in Yang's face. 

“Back off.” Yang snarled, Weiss could tell she was holding back, if the clenched fists at her side were any indication. 

A brush of a thumb across Weiss’ wrist drew her attention to her side. Blake had wrapped herself around Weiss. Positioning herself so she was in between the man and the smaller girl. She wasn't paying attention to what was going on behind her, knowing Yang could handle it.

She was searching Weiss’ face for any sign of harm or discomfort. “Are you ok?” 

Weiss blushed, the close proximity making her stomach flop. “Yes, I'm fine. He just couldn't take a hint.”

“Why were you alone, where's Team FNKI?” Blakes eyes scanned the bar behind her. 

“Hey,” Weiss said, drawing Blakes attention back to her with a touch to the arm wrapped around her. “I’m fine, I promise. I can take care of myself you know.”

Blakes ears flattened against her head. “I know I just-”

“What’s a Schnee doing in a place like this anyways?” The man's voice was loud and irritated. Weiss felt her heart sink a little, no matter how hard she tried, she could never unlink herself to that name. He was still in Yang's face, but the other girl seemed more annoyed than angry now, her eyes back to their normal color. 

“Just leave us alone dude.”

The man squared his shoulders, sizing Yang up. Uh oh. That wasn't going to go over well.

Weiss decided to step in. She stepped around Blake, but stayed close to the Faunus so she still had her arm wrapped around her. “Look, just please go, we don't want to cause anymore trouble.” Yang took a step back to fill in the space on the other side of Weiss, bracketing her in.

The man's eyes jumped between the three of them before setting on Blake. They slide from the arm around Weiss’ middle to her ears on top of her head. He scoffs. Weiss feels Blake stiffen and Yang's aura spike.

“Seriously? This must be some type of joke. You of all people, here with a Faunus?” He laughed bitterly. “Didn't know a Schnee would stoop so low.”

Weiss felt anger swell inside her. She felt it bubble up until her face was red. She felt Yang too, her aura flaring up dangerously. She was about to step forward to give that man a piece of her mind, but before either of them could do anything, Blake stepped in front of him first. 

She leveled the man with a deadly look. Her shoulders were pushed back and the ears on top of her head were perked up, proud. Weiss always somehow forgot how tall Blake actually was. The man took half a step back. 

“Leave. Now.”

Her tone was level but Weiss could still hear the silent threat beneath it. The man must've too because he huffed giving a small “whatever” before turning and pushing his way through the crowd. 

“Asshole.” Blake muttered, turning back to her teammates. Her hand automatically reached for Yang, as if she didn't even notice she was doing it. Similarly, Yang reached her hand out as well, grasping Blake's forearm lightly, like it was second nature for them to seek each other's comfort. 

What shocked Weiss though, was that Yang had just as easily slug her other arm around Weiss’ shoulders and how Blake had yet to pull her arm away from her hip.

“Come on let's grab a table.” Yang said, leading them both away from the small crowd that had formed around them.

_____________

They found a booth in the back, one that circled all the way around making the sitting area a ‘U’ shape. Plenty of room for three people to have their own space. So, Weiss couldn't for the life of her understand why they were all squished together on one side. She wasn't necessarily complaining. Blake was in the seat closest to the opening of the table, her thighs were pressed up against Weiss’ and her heart jumped every time Blake would lean in close to talk. Yang was on her other side, arm over the back of the booth, her fingers lightly brushing against Blakes shoulder. Weiss could feel Yang's heat radiating off her, making her want to lean back into her chest, tuck her face into her neck. Weiss felt something in her chest. Something that was definitely toeing over the friendship line. 

Weiss was having a hard time concentrating to say the least. She can hear her teammates having a conversation, the music less loud being further away. She thinks they’re talking about Ironwood? She should probably focus. 

“I don't know Blake, it just feels wrong, hiding everything.” Yang's voice. “Atlas should be prepared, even if that means telling the people in charge.” 

Weiss heard Blake sigh. “Could we not talk about this now?”

Yang raised her hands in fake surrender. “Alright, alright.” She lifted her glass of water to her mouth, finishing off the rest. 

Blake must've noticed they were all running low because she gets up and gathers their glasses. “I’ll go get us some more water.”

Weiss nodded in response. For a few minutes they sit there quietly, listening to the subtle thump of the music. Weiss feels a hand on her thigh, warm and gentle, but also firm.

“You ok there, princess?”

Weiss jumped when she felt Yang's breath ghost over the shell of her ear. Yang's arm had moved from the top of the seat and now rested on her shoulders pulling her in. Weiss wanted to lean in, to tilt her head to give Yang access to her neck. Yang's proximity and this realization made her breath hitch. She wasn't looking at Yang's face but she was pretty sure she was smirking. 

“I’m perfectly fine. Just.. thinking.”

“Oh yea? About what?” Yang's low tone made her look over. Her eyes were somewhat lidded as she scanned Weiss’ face. When Weiss swallowed, she watched Yang's eyes track the movement down her throat. Weiss felt like she was on fire. 

Weiss exhaled as she tried to come up with a response. 

“I..”

“Hey guys! Whats up?”

Weiss jerked back from Yang and whipped around. Neon and Flint had made their way over to the table, inviting themselves to sit on the other side of the booth. 

“Hey you two.” Yang said casually, as if her and Weiss hadn’t been close to making out a few seconds ago. “Where's Kobalt and Ivori?”

Flint responded, “Went home, they have a mission tomorrow they need to prepare for.” Yang hummed in response. 

Neon leaned over the table resting on her elbows as she looked at Yang. “How's your night going firecracker?” She asked with a wink. 

Weiss bristled. Yang let out a chuckle. “It's been interesting for sure.” 

Weiss looked up when Blake silently returned, setting down their glasses on the table. She gave only a slight “hey guys” to Flint and Neon before settling back into Weiss’ side, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. 

“Well with you, things are always interesting I'm sure.” Neon said, with a flirtatious wave of her hand. Weiss had to suppress an eye roll. Really? 

“Something wrong kitty-cat?” Apparently, Blake didn't bother suppressing the urge.

It was Blake’s turn to bristle. “No, nothing.” Blake’s body language told her otherwise.

Neon's eyes scanned the three of them, a small, mischievous smile made its way into her face. 

“What do you say firecracker, wanna hit the dance floor?” 

Somehow, Weiss felt all three of them tense up. No. Absolutely not. Weiss thought. But who was she to tell Yang otherwise? She wasn't her girlfriend. Weiss sat back, leaning into Yang's arm, bitterly glaring at the girl across the table, but didn’t say anything. Weiss snuck a glance at Blake. She had a neutral expression on her face but her ears were pinned back defensively. 

(Blakes ears always gave up what she was feeling, even if her face never did. Weiss would think later about how pretty she looks without her bow.)

Before anyone snapped though, Yang spoke up to answer Neon's question. 

“Actually, the three of us were just about to go dance. Maybe next time?” Yang added the last part out of courtesy. 

Neon however, didn't seem too hurt by this statement at all as she sat back in the booth. She scanned over the three with a small smirk on her face. 

“Don't worry, I get it.”

“Get what?” Weiss heard her voice go up an octave and tried not to cringe. 

Neon just casually shrugged, looking pointedly at the places the three girls were linked together. Blakes body leaning into Weiss, Weiss tucked closely into the crook of Yang's side, Yang's arm hanging loosely over both of their shoulders, completing the circle. 

Neon threw them all a wink then turned to her partner. “Come on Flynt, I don't think we’re invited on their date.” 

Flynt chucked and tipped his hat to the other three. “Have a great night ladies. Get out there, that dance floor is waiting for you.”

The three girls watched the two walk away in shock. It was a few minutes before one of them spoke again.

“So,” Blake cleared her throat, “you guys wanna go dance?”

“Yes.”

“Oh absolutely.”

_________________

It started out light and fun. The three girls moving around happily with each other to the music, giggling and poking fun. Yang was a surprisingly great dancer. She was showing off her moves while Blake laughed behind her hand and Weiss pretended to be annoyed. 

That changed when the music did. Going from upbeat and poppy, to low and sultry with a heavy base line. They were already standing close to one another. Weiss felt the atmosphere around them change instantly. 

Blake, to Weiss’ surprise, made the first move. Stepping in close and pulling Weiss in by the hips so they were facing each other. Weiss instinctively raised her hands to Blakes shoulders, palms resting on her collarbones. 

Blake bent over a bit and Weiss had to tilt her head back so she could keep eye contact. She felt Blakes heart hammering against her palm. She slid her hands up and around Blakes neck, locking them together. 

She was so focused on the girl in front of her that she didn't notice Yang coming up from behind. She gasped when Yang's warm front pressed against her. She yanked Weiss’ hips back into hers, Blake being dragged forward in the process too, until they were all melded together. 

Yang started to move, swaying slowly behind her, her hands encouraging Weiss to follow her movements. Weiss felt heat in her chest, filling her up then poring lower. Her hands tightened around Blakes neck and pulled her impossibly closer until their legs slotted together. 

Weiss’ senses were overloaded as two sets of hands were on her body. Yangs’ stayed grounded on her hips, controlling how she moved. They squeezed and rubbed, but stayed there, radiating heat. She was having a more difficult time keeping track of Blakes hands. Currently, one was on her rib cage and the other was sliding up, up, until long fingers held her chin. When they tightened and forced her head up, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily, too overwhelmed. She could feel Blakes breath on her face. 

When she felt a hand leave her hip she forced her eyes open. She watched with lidded eyes as Yang reached over her to grip the back of Blakes neck over her own hands. Even if she couldn't see Yang, she could tell the two girls were giving each other heated eyes, if Blakes jaw-slacked look was any indication. 

Unable to stop herself, Weiss leaned forward and ran her tongue along Blakes exposed collar bone. She heard the Faunus gasp loudly. 

“Hey.” Yang's voice was hoarse. “As much as I want this to continue, we’re drawing a crowd.”

That seemed to lift the haze over Weiss’ eyes momentarily. She looked around. There was a fair amount of people staring at the three. Weiss did her best to shoot them all an irritated look. 

Blake took a half step back, but didn’t pull away completely. Weiss watched with interest as she and Yang had a silent conversation over her shoulder. Apparently they came to a non-verbal agreement and when Blake looked back to Weiss, Yang was already pulling away. 

“Lets go outside?” 

Weiss couldn't use her words just yet, so instead, she wrapped her hand around Blakes wrist, the one that was now cupping her face, and nodded. 

Yang grabbed Blakes hand leading them away. Blake put her other arm around Weiss and pulled her close to her side as they walked outside, ignoring all the eyes that followed them. 

____________

The cold Atlas air felt great on Weiss’ skin. She hadn't realized how sweaty the three of them got in there. They were in the back alley behind the dance club, she could still hear the muffled music coming from the closed door. The only light shining from the broken moon above them, dimly lighting the alleyway. 

The three were only outside for a few seconds before Weiss was pushed lightly into the brick wall behind her. She looked up to see Blake, arms placed on either side of her head on the wall. She watched the other girl swallow heavily as her eyes were locked onto Weiss’ lips. 

“What do you think kitten?” Yang wrapped both of her arms around Blakes middle and rested her chin on her shoulder. 

Blake tilted her head a bit, never looking away from Weiss’ face. Even with the cold air around them, Weiss still felt hot under the pair's heated gaze. 

Finally finding her voice, Weiss started to speak up. 

“I…” She took a breath and tried again. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to take it so far, I just..” Weiss felt too many emotions bubble up inside her. Most notably, longing. 

She grabbed the lapels of Blakes coat and pulled her in. “I want you.” She found she couldn't speak above a whisper. The raw emotion in her voice making it hard to breath. She looked over Blakes shoulder to look at Yang. “Both of you.”

Weiss’ chest felt tight from being so open, vulnerable. She didn't plan for this to take an emotional turn. She felt tears well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. 

It was Yang that bridged the gap this time, reaching out with her robotic arm to cup Weiss’ face gently, running her thumb over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. 

“We want you too.” Though Yang spoke it quietly, Weiss heard it as a scream. Relief washed over her in waves. She took a shaky breath and more tears spilled from her eyes. 

Blake gently pulled her in to rest Weiss’ head in the crook of her neck as she cried softly. Weiss gripped the back of Blakes coat and reached out blindly with her other hand to do the same to Yangs, fisting the front of her shirt and pulling her closer, until they were all huddled together in an embrace. 

They stayed there until Weiss’ tears had dried and her white-knuckled grip on the two loosened. She pulled away and looked them both in the eyes, noticing that both sets were watery. 

“Okay.” She said softly as Yang pressed her forehead into hers. “Okay.”

They all jumped when suddenly the alarms blared through the streets of Mantel. Lights turning red around them, signaling trouble.

“Shit,” Blake said through gritted teeth, looking around, “Grimm.”

They all looked back at one another, taking a moment to cherish the last couple seconds they had. 

Weiss straightened up and nodded at the two. “Okay.” Determination heavy in her voice. They all turned to run from the alley, loading their weapons in the process. 

Later, they would have time, just for them. Right now, it was time to do their jobs.

[cagestark]

Hi I saw you wanted some prompts and how about Hades!Tony and Nature God! Peter fluff. Them Meeting for the first time and falling in love. Them in Tonys Dark castle having dinner. And Then Tony Not going to be so Peter has to make him. Maybe even some smut ;) ALL OF DIS IN ONE. ( Some Daddy Kink. ) P.S I saw you dont write Dark!Tony so just make Tony normal but he's still Hades. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ cause you don't need to be dark and mean to be the king of hell.

You asked for *some* smut and *some* daddy kink but it really just…jumped right out. It got carried away with itself, I was just stuck along for the ride. I hope this is remotely something that you asked for and that you enjoy! Leave a prompt anytime, this was a joy. And it definitely needs a pt. 2… 

Hades!Tony is dying. He picks up Dionysus!Peter, because that’s the perfect cure. Or at least, the best way to die. Some notes here: I know little about Greek mythology, but I do know that everybody is everybody’s relative. Not in this. Consider familial relationships to be explicitly stated, and if not stated, then non-existent. No incest here. Peter is, like, ancient too. Probably still too young for the antis. I really made the mythology my own too lmao. Sorry.

Read here on AO3.

5k. Daddy Kink, ahoy!

-

Everything comes to an end, and thinking that he would be the exception had been a very mortal move.

Tony, who is sometimes called Hades, stands looking into an ornate mirror. The room is dimly lit, but the evidence is impossible to overlook: there is gray in his beard and at his temples. He turns his head this way and that to see it from every angle, frowning deeply. When had those lines begun to bracket his mouth when he smiled or frowned? It must have happened gradually for him to have not noticed before, subtle like sands slipping down an hourglass.

He’s been in this general form for five decades now. Being nearly as old as time itself can get dreadfully droll if stuck with the same appearance. Like most of his divine kin, he likes to switch it up every century or so. Illusions can help, but even without the extra influence, a deity’s appearance changes over time. Humans evolve in that way, their brow bones receding, noses thinning and figures lengthening. In many way, the gods evolve too.

This carefully cultivated visage contains no illusions and was the result of centuries of time leaving their influence on him, an amalgamation of his preferences and his personality. The eyes, dark, as he prefers. The hair, soft and thick and (previously) black. His lips are full, fit for seductive smiles and sinister snarls. And even if, as the years had past, this face had grown—not older, he won’t say older, let’s say more mature—it was just a reflection of his changing disposition. Even the god of the Underworld had to put away childish things sometime, he told himself.

Except now, something about his disposition is turning him gray. It’s giving him crow’s feet and joints that ache. Some part of him, even if subconscious, is getting old.

He is dying.

-

When he steps out of the ground at the base of Mt. Olympus, it is hot and dry and so fucking bright. The tinted glasses he wears do nothing to diminish the sunlight that blinds him for several long moments, no matter how he tries to blink himself used to it. Illusions are firmly in place to disguise his aging appearance.

The acropolis is visible once his eyes have stopped stinging: it’s large and ugly, and the stables smell like shit because even immortal horses defecate. The horses in the Underworld don’t—they’re dead and lovely.

Everywhere he goes in the palace, someone tries to stop him. Seeing his brother in the flesh is an entire affair, and he hasn’t sent any message announcing his arrival. It’s been centuries since he’s even set foot above ground, so he tries not to sniff indignantly that no one recognizes him. Sick of being interrogated, he makes himself invisible (it’s a crime though—he looks so cut and handsome in his three-piece suit) and strolls leisurely all the way to Zeus’s chambers.

Zeus has a handsome mortal man in his bed, as he is wont to do. They make a lovely picture, both muscled but one blond and the other dark and long-haired like mortal women prefer. Tony is jealous, standing over their naked, entwined forms while they slumber. It looks comfortable. But how ever do they keep from sweating all over each other?

The snap of his fingers ends his invisibility and startles Zeus into wakefulness. The last time he saw his brother, the god looked nothing like this. Now he is the picture of mortal desirability: blond with cornflower blue eyes, a well-shaped face. Is it an illusion he wonders—but no, not possibly. They can’t maintain illusions while they sleep or lose focus.

“Must you break in every time you visit?” Zeus asks. He stands to dress himself, and Tony gives him the privacy by seating himself on a solid-gold armchair and unashamedly ogling the brunet still sleeping in his brother’s bed.

“Did I break in last time? I distinctly remember knocking—”

“You knocked the door off the hinges.”

Tony scoffs. Nearby is a golden platter of grapes. He knocks the grapes to the floor and tucks the platter into his suit jacket, all while Zeus’s back is turned.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I like the facial hair, by the way. You always were a quirky one.”

He waves away his illusion. Zeus flinches as if instead of a middle-aged mortal there is now an ancient hag sitting in his bedroom. Tony hates this. Hates the blow to his ego and vanity. He attempts to conceal his embarrassment with sensationalism: “I am dying.”

They sit together, knees nearly touching. The room is quiet though all the windows are open letting in a breeze and endless sunlight that is beginning to give him a headache. Despite all they have been through together (and trust him, it is a very long and sordid history rife with jealousy and violence), they are brothers. This is familiar. It is comfortable.

“Why, Hades?”

“It’s Tony. I go by Tony.”

“You and your aliases. Tony is positively mortal.”

“You should try it. Shall I call you Steve?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. Quit avoiding my question.”

Tony sighs. He uses a trembling hand to rub at his eye beneath the glasses, trying to stave off the growing headache. There isn’t any clever quip he can give, so he just tells the truth. “I have no idea.”

“No idea,” Zeus mocks flatly. “The only way we can die is by choice.”

“I am aware.”

“You are killing yourself then. Slowly. Dramatically—though I’d never expect you to do anything expected. So tell me why you want to die.”

“To my knowledge…I don’t know. Whatever this is, it goes deep. I haven’t made any conscious decision. I have of course been bored. Doing anything for a millennium could take the joy out of it. It’s not necessarily a happy job, the one that I have. But I don’t—I don’t think I want to die. And yet,” he waves a hand at himself.

“We have healers here, well versed in magic too. Maybe you’ve been cursed. Spend some time here, we will get to the bottom of this.”

“I’d rather not spend a moment more in this sunlight than I have to,” Tony says honestly. “But it seemed responsible, to tell someone. To get my affairs in order. Someone else will have to rule the Underworld when I’m gone.” The thought gives him a strange relief.

And maybe that is why he’s dying.

When he goes to leave, Zeus catches his arm. Despite his own reputation as the drama queen of the family, Tony can testify that Zeus is a close second, proficient in tortured expressions. “Brother. Please stay.”

“No. But thank you for asking.”

“Then—take some time off. Something!” Zeus calls after him.

On his way out, he doesn’t bother turning himself invisible again, only replacing the illusion of youth—let the guards know that he slipped past them. It’s good for their egos to be taken down a notch. Just as he’s passing the stables, he nearly collides with a smaller figure. Looking up at him, nearly drowned out by the sunlight, is a lovely mortal-looking boy with a wreath of gold curls, skin golden and freckled. He’s dressed in typical Olympus fashion, a light and loose tunic secured by a belt around his trim waist.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry—” the boy says, turning red as a pomegranate. His voice is fragile and cracking. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”  

“A bad habit,” says Tony. He licks his lips. “Tell me you aren’t on your way to my brother’s bed. He’s already got a lovely little cock warmer up there, and I’d hate for your feelings to be hurt.”

The boy’s mouth opens and closes several times like a fish. “Your—brother?”

“Tall, blond god? Always looks to be on the verge of tears?”

“You’re—Hades.”

“Tony.”

“That’s a mortal name.”

“Nothing about me is mortal kid.”

“Oh—I didn’t mean to insult you,” he says. “I quite like it. To be—well, honest. I like the name Peter. It’s much less of a mouthful than Dionysus.”

Tony nearly removes his sunglasses. This sweet, soft little creature hardly looks like the god of nature—but to be fair, they have run in different circles for, well, ever. “My apologies, Peter. I mistook you for a mortal.”

Peter’s smile is beatific, bright as the sun. “That’s alright. It’s the curls, isn’t it? I can’t quite get rid of them. I’m not very practiced at illusions, really. I spend most of my time alone or with the animals, and they don’t quite care what I look like. To be honest, I’m just glad to be rid of the horns I had eight hundred years ago.”

“Horns are so twelfth-century.”

Peter laughs, and no wonder this boy is in charge of all the cute woodland creatures. Tony’s pretty sure that there are butterflies—at least, a particularly large species of moth, something with wings—fluttering around in his gut just as the sight of him. In the back of his mind, he still sees Zeus and his lover, pressed chest-to-back, sleeping peacefully. Peter looks like he’d be easy to hold: a head smaller, thin and willowy.

“Peter, not to be annoyingly cryptic, but I’m a little short on time to properly woo you. How would you like to slip through a nice cozy hole in the ground and come home with me to warm my bed?”

The young-looking god looks aghast. One finely-boned hand clutches at the neck of his tunic. “You mean—to the Underworld?”

“That’s the one. Great garish gates, lots of unworthy souls lying about. Not in my castle though, I keep a clean place for a bachelor—”

“I. Well. Yes. I’ve seen nearly all there is to see above ground. Are there plants, there? What is the geography like?”

They link arms. Peter’s skin is warm from the sunlight even through Tony’s suit. They could not look more unalike in dress, and the looks they receive from other patrons and deities as they leave Olympus are wary at best and malicious at worst. Tony isn’t fazed: most creatures hate him. Animals. Mortals. Gods. It’s a tough line of work.

And he feels so tired.

The kindness of Peter’s touch rejuvenates him though. They make small talk that Tony can barely concentrate on. He’s too busy contemplating the positions he might bend Peter into, the noises he might make, how Tony might spread him out over the massive bed in his estate and worship him. Pun intended.

They reach the hole Tony sprung from. Here is where Peter gets nervous, trepidation naked on his face. The boy bites his lip rosy, crossing his arms like he is cold in the sunshine.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tony says. He winks. “Bit of a tight fit though. Might have to hold on to me.”

They wrap their arms around each other. Peter is nearly the perfect height for Tony to rest his chin on the boy’s crown on curls, and up this close he sees its absolutely threaded with flowers and clovers. The pollen makes him sneeze, but he hardly minds when there is an attractive body pressed against him from chin to chest to hip. He can’t even remember the last time he was touched—when Zeus grabbed his arm in passing, but before then? Ages. Lost in his thoughts, he hears Peter muffle his gasp against Tony’s suit as they sink underground.

It is much cooler here, where the sunlight doesn’t reach. All light is dim and flickering. From the earthen ceiling hang a myriad of roots reaching their tendrils down towards the sprawling domain of the damned. They are just outside of Tony’s castle—more of a mansion really, much more modern and stylish than those gaudy human monuments of stone. A river, water like ink, runs around the perimeter, silent.

Peter stands looking all around. He is very handsome when lit by flame, skin even more golden, eyes so dark they look black. The roots from above absolutely tickle him and he reaches a hand up absently as if he could grow tall enough to reach them. The flesh on his bare arms and legs prickles from the cool temperature, nipples pebbling under his thin tunic.

“Is this the Styx River?” Peter asks, mouth agape.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“No. This is actually the Lethe—don’t touch the water.” His stern voice has Peter snatching his hand from the surface of the river, clutching it to his chest. Tony softens. “I’m sorry. But while you’re here, it’s safe to say that most things aren’t good for you to touch. Or drink. Or eat. When in doubt, just ask me.”

“As you wish,” Peter says. Even in the flickering light, Tony can see he is blushing, head hanging like a scolded child.

“Would you like to go inside?”

-

If Peter was awed outside, he seems even more floored by the interior. The ceilings are vaulted. There is artwork from every era in solid gold frames to decorate the walls, because Tony considers himself a patron of very nice things. The floor is of black marble that glistens in the candlelight. The general opulence is probably excessive, Tony thinks, especially to a god who lives simply in nature.

“This is incredible,” Peter breathes. “It’s nothing how I thought it would be. There are stories, you know. About how the Underworld is a terrible place and Zeus will banish you here if you misbehave.”

“To be fair,” Tony says, guiding Peter up the winding staircase. “You’ve only seen a fraction of the domain. It is probably just as terrible as all the stiffs up-top make it out to be. But—to be honest—”

The words catch in his throat. He’s never found himself wanting to be so honest before.

“Yes?” Peter prompts.

They are stopped outside Tony’s bedroom door. He decides he has nothing to lose by opening up to the other god, and if he doesn’t, it’s entirely liable that when he dies, no one will ever have known him. “To be honest, I try to avoid it. Tartarus, the Mourning Fields. Places where the souls suffer. It gives me no pleasure. I guess I’m a poor excuse for a god, here.”

“Not enjoying someone else’s suffering—that doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,” Peter says. They are standing nearly chest to chest, Peter staring up at him with huge, naïve eyes. His thin lips curve into a soft smile. When Tony reaches up to tuck some curls behind his ears, the ears are just barely pointed at the tips. Peter shivers, like it tickles.

“You’re wrong,” Tony says lowly, turning the doorknob and throwing open the door. “But I appreciate you saying it anyway.”

Tony’s bedroom is befitting a dark prince. The bed instead is a huge four-poster, golden, with silks and a canopy so fine and sheer it looks like black spider silk. When Peter sits there in his tunic, flowers in his hair, he could not look more like a lamb being willingly led to slaughter. He looks fit for debauching.

Underneath is there is a sense of urgency for Tony. He thought he had all the time in the world, but now he knows he doesn’t. If things were different, he could take his time. Woo the nature god, win his affection and then his body. But now things are different. It calls for boldness. “Are you interested in sex with me, kid?”

Face red: “You keep calling me that. I’m thousands and thousands of years old, Tony.”

“You’re right—would you like to have sex with me, Peter?”

Peter’s blush deepens but he nods, already half-hard. Divine libidos.

Tony loosens his tie. His honey eyes track the dark god’s every movement. “Can I tell you how this is playing out in my head?”

Peter nods again.

Tony removes the tie and folds it gently over an armchair with four chimera feet sculpted out of onyx as the legs. “I want to take my time and take you apart. I want to taste you, suck on your hot little tongue, leave bruises on your neck. I’ll kiss and mouth every last inch of you except for your cock. Then I’ll put you on your elbows and knees and eat your little ass.”

Peter is panting silently, eyes half shut while he examines every inch of skin exposed as Tony unbuttons his shirt. The tunic does nothing to disguise how hard he is, and one soft hand reaches down to palm himself, to Tony’s immense pleasure. He undoes his cufflinks, tony gold seeds, sitting them aside. “I want to tongue you open until you’re wet and soft, until your cock aches so much it’s fit to burst. I’m going to worship you. Destroy you. I will be your god, all before I even get my cock inside you. How does this sound so far, Peter?”

“Goooood,” he breathes, tilting his head back. His eyes close but then open, wider, like he’s afraid to miss a single moment of what’s in front of him. So fucking adorable.

“Then I’ll open you up with my fingers, very carefully. Slowly. I won’t lie to you Peter, it will be very hard. For me. Having my fingers inside your tight little ass will probably have me wanting to blow my load as it is. It’s going to take incredible self-restraint, but don’t worry,” Tony says, unbuckling his belt. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”

Peter groans, dropping down to recline back on one elbow. His other hand is no longer jerking himself off through his tunic, is instead just clutching at himself, face twisted in the sweetest pain. “Please don’t stop,” he begs so sweetly.

“The same goes for you. Keep touching yourself, Pete. It’s turning me on.” Like it pains him, Peter whines as he resumes, much slower than before. The sound Tony’s belt makes as it comes free from the loops is almost sensual and then he sets it aside. “Once you’re ready—past ready—I’ll put my cock in you. Maybe I’ll let you decide how you take it, whether it will be on your hands and knees or maybe on your back, pressed in half, nowhere to run or hide from me. Maybe you’d like to ride me. Could you be brave, darling? Could you sit on my cock?”

Peter says something unintelligible. Tears slip from his eyes, glinting in the candlelight.

“What is it?” Tony asks, tender.

“Can—May I please cum?”

Tony coos. “You sweet boy, asking daddy for permission. Lift your tunic, rose. Let me watch you.”

Face burning, Peter lifts his tunic. Beneath is his cock, of decent girth and length, flushed and wet, the head nearly purple with desperation. One soft hand reaches down to cradle his balls, and the other resumes jerking himself off, moaning unreservedly at the first touch of skin-on-skin.

“Go on. Cum on yourself.”

Peter does, reclining flat on the bed, back arching into a lovely bow. His cock spurts endlessly, the god’s mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy, toes barely long enough to touch the floor and scrabbling to find purchase as he shakes and shivers.

It’s the most beautiful thing Tony can remember seeing, and he’s seen almost everything. By the way the boy is panting, Tony wishes he had some water to offer him; however, he knows that anything he eats or drinks will tether him here to this dark world. And if there’s any other thing he knows besides, it’s that Peter belongs above in the sunlight.

“I’ll never tell you no,” Tony admits, shedding the last of his clothes as the boy recovers, body jerking belatedly. “But I have to admit, I do enjoy the way you ask to cum so prettily. Can you ask me in confidence, darling? Could you ask your daddy, your god, to let you cum?”

“Anything,” Peter pants. His long fingers scramble to undo the belt at his waist and then he sheds his clothing in one fell swoop. Underneath he is all golden skin and tight muscles. His cock is half hard, cum glistening on his abs like the tears on his face.

“A terrible thing to promise,” Tony says, kneeling up into the bed. Hand flat on Peter’s chest, he ducks down to lick a flat line through the cum on his abs, groaning at the taste and the way Peter’s cock twitches. “Where did I say we would start, little rose?”

Peter doesn’t even blush, eyes half lidded with pleasure. He rises up onto his elbows, mouth open and ready.

The kiss is absolutely filthy, tongues entwining, the taste of cum between them. Tony licks into the softest, sweetest mouth he’s ever known, tangling his fingers in dark curls. He tugs a little and Peter’s head tips back with a soft whispered groan, the pliancy going straight to the dark god’s cock. It’s like all the strength is sapped from the boy who just holds his mouth open obediently while Tony explores it with his tongue, running it along the teeth, pulling back to suckle and nip at his lips.

Tony takes his time, as promised. He kisses and sucks at every inch of Peter’s golden body, tonguing the nipples into tight, pleasurable points and sucking at each abdominal that appears when the boy tenses. Lovingly, he cleans the stiff cock of its previous load of cum, perfunctory, before moving on. He sucks bruises onto the tanned thighs and kisses the delicate inside of his wrists.

“Roll over, darling,” Tony says. “Up on your knees and down on your elbows, for me. Spread your legs—a little more—yes just like that. Show me that pretty ass.”

Peter rolls at the first spoken word, movements languid. The expression on his face is blissful, and Tony might mistake it for sleepiness if the hard cock hanging between his thighs wasn’t dripping down onto the black sheets. His submission is so lovely and complete, Tony falls in love with him a little.

Then he spreads the god open and licks a broad stripe over his opening, letting the saliva pool in his mouth to lubricate his journey while he tongues at the tight little opening, coaxing it to submit as sweetly as its owner. The noises Peter makes go straight to Tony’s cock: whimpers and whines and breathy exhalations. Tony lets one thumb rub at the boy’s hole, barely slipping in while he ducks down further to mouth at the sensitive balls. He lets his thumb massage and catch on the rim, tugging gently, while he pulls back briefly. The puddle beneath the god is obscene. Peter’s cock looks downright painful.

“Why aren’t you touching yourself, little rose?” Tony asks. “Your little cock looks like it hurts.”

“I—May I?” Peter asks, turning his neck so that he could flash his dark eyes towards Tony’s.

“It’s your cock, Peter, you don’t need to ask me. Or is it mine now? Does your cock belong to daddy?”

Peter rocks back, fisting at the sheets. “Yes,” he groans. “Yours, daddy. May I touch it? Please?”

Tony shuts his eyes. He has never been lucky. In his first game of chance, he got the losing lot, receiving domain of the Underworld. But what luck he must have had today, to bump into this sweet doe. He can hardly believe it to be true. “Please, touch yourself. As fast or slow as you like.”

Peter chooses fast as Tony’s goes back to licking him open. His hips don’t know what to do—fuck into his fist or press back towards the hot tongue inside of him. Tony sinks a finger inside, and it slips in easily. The god under him keens high in his throat, deciding yes to arch his back more and give the dark one more access, content to just grind into his own palm.

The second finger doesn’t go in as easily, but it seems that Peter enjoys it more. Perhaps he likes the burn of being stretched open. One soft crook of those fingers has him nearly shrieking, asking for permission.

“Of course,” Tony says. He wants to shut his eyes, it all feels so good, so overwhelming—but he doesn’t want to miss an instant of the boy beneath him. He leans back to watch Peter’s mouth slacken in ecstasy, breaths stuttering as he grinds to completion against his own hand, hot cum slipping through his fingers. “Beautiful,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the boy’s back. “Absolutely beautiful.”

This time, Peter draws his own hand to his mouth and licks the cum away, humming contentedly. Tony’s own cock aches, desperate for the slightest pressure, but he ignores it, softly fucking his fingers into Peter, drawing them apart to prepare him for a third. When he presses in, Peter sighs joyfully, looking absolutely fucked out, smiling at nothing and no one.

“How do you want me, Peter?” asks Tony. “I promised you that it would be your choice.”

“Let me ride you,” Peter mumbles. Tony’s cock jumps—just the answer he wanted to hear. He’s not sure however that Peter has the strength; he’s looking more asleep than he is awake.

“Are you sure? We can rest now.”

Peter perks up, a little alarmed. “What? No—please. Please, may I ride you?”

Tony groans, smiling. His heart feels soft, like a fruit left to rot. That gentle, cracking voice could ask anything from him, and he might be obliged to agree to it. As it is, he lays prostrate, watching with greedy eyes as Peter climbs above him. The god’s golden thighs are shaking already, but his expression is still blissful as he kneels up, reaching down for Tony’s cock. The first touch after such lengthy neglect has him hissing, pressing his head back into the pillow. Then he feels the unbearable warmth, the wet pressure as Peter lowers himself.

The nature god’s face looks wrecked, mouth open, eyes squinted shut. He presses down but then rises up, chest hitching with breaths before lowering himself again, taking just a little more at a time. By the time his ass touches Tony’s thighs, Tony feels liable to burst, and Peter is hard again.

Then he begins to move, thighs flexing. From his mouth come the most pitiable little sounds: breathy gasps, chants of yes, yes, yes daddy, thank you—please!

“So polite,” Tony says through gritted teeth, trying to prolong the moment. The sleeve around him is so tight it borders painful, but it is a line that Tony loves to skip along. Most arousing is Peter, the obvious pleasure he’s experiencing, the openness in his face and body. He is beyond censorship, beyond self-doubt, and it is the most beautiful and honest thing the dark god has ever seen.

It is exactly what drives him to the edge, and he barely has breath in his lungs to give Peter a warning before he is cumming, head pressed back into the pillow, groaning deep in his chest. Peter makes a wrecked noise, like Tony’s orgasm feels good as his own, pressing a palm on the other god’s chest to give himself more leverage while he rides the cock inside him.

“May I?” Peter pants, legs shaking.

“Yes,” Tony breathes, his eyes closed. This way, he focuses on the sensation: the warmth and wetness around his cock as it pulses with Peter’s orgasm, the hot splatter of cum on his abs, the way he feels warmer in this bed than he ever has before.

He never wants Peter to leave.

He wants to leave with Peter, and never return.

He does not want to die—

And then, Peter is gasping, a sound that can’t be mistaken for pleasure. The warm body on top of him moves away swiftly, and when his eyes crack open, he sees the horror on Peter’s face. Tony sits up, chest tight. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You—you’re—” A golden hand comes up to stroke beside one of Tony’s eyes, fingertips brushing his temples. And oh.

Oh. His illusions must have fallen when he came.

The younger, more attractive persona is gone. Instead, his true form is left: hairs turning gray, face lined. It’s obvious why Peter is horrified. It can’t be pleasant to go to bed with someone and have them turn into—well, the same person, only twenty years older. Surely, Tony must be a terrifying sight. Or at least ugly.

“Tony, you’re older,” Peter says. His face is softer now without the fear.

“I’m—dying.”

“That—no. You can’t be. You’re—like my god.” The large brown eyes fill with tears that balance there only for a moment before tripping down his cheeks. The sight makes him feel like Charon has taken his ferryman’s pole to Tony’s chest, striking him as he is wont to do with leisurely souls. The tears are white hot when he brushes them away. “Tony, I don’t want you to die.”

He swallows, gathering the smaller god into his arms where he curls and weeps against Tony’s bare chest. Tony runs his fingers through the curls, flicking away a clover with far too many leaves that clings to him. There is a lump in his throat, like he might cry as well—only he knows it’s honesty.  “I don’t want me to die either. Except for when I’m here.. The Underworld is no place to spend eternity. I feel—like one of the damned.”

“Then come away with me,” Peter cries. “You don’t need to stay here. The whole earth is my domain, and I say that you are welcome there. Please, Tony. Come and stay with me.”

His hand pauses its ministrations while the cogs in his mind whir. What would they do…what would anyone do if he disappeared? The souls would continue to filter in—but Tony isn’t the one who decides the unworthy from the worthy, and he isn’t the one who determines punishment or delivers it. Without him there, the Underworld is likely to continue on just as it has since the beginning of time.

And maybe he can continue on, too. Elsewhere.

“You know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to those curls. “My brother did say I should take a sabbatical.”

[whatsarasaid]

Aaaaay, since I love your writing style, I decided to seize the opportunity and send you a prompt! 😍💞 So, how about a drabble about the first time Fragile brought Higgs to her beach? Thank you!

Evidently, I really wanted this because I wrote it faster than anything I’ve ever written before. It also went from a drabble to a mini fic. Thanks for the prompt, Anon! I had a great time with it. 🖤

title: shoreline sickness. fandom: death stranding. rating: teen & up. word count: approx. 1200. characters: higgs monaghan, fragile. 

—

Click, click; click, click.

The rapid succession of the pen nib contracting and retracting kept in time with Higgs’ thoughts.

Space was limited in the compact cities, so when Fragile Express and Western Courier Co. merged, they opted to share the office located in Fragile Express’s central hub. It was tight, but Higgs didn’t mind. It gave him a front-row seat to his new partner’s abilities. Fragile wasn’t one to show off, but neither did she attempt to hide her extensive DOOMS. On top of accompanying premium shipments through hazardous trails dense with BTs, he often caught her jumping throughout the facility when she was in a hurry. She’d blip in-and-out like a flashbulb, the scent of sea-salt always trailing close behind, so pungent it taunted him with its taste.

Click, click; click, click.

Higgs watched her as she mapped out new routes for their outfit. She was lost in her problem-solving with her pretty brow slanted in concentration, the green glow of the three-dimensional landscape reflecting off her delicate features as she scrutinized its geography. What marvels had she seen? How could she just sit there, scrolling through maps, when she had experienced The Beach? The Beach.

 Click, click. 

Higgs pondered the possibilities a link to The Beach could bring, how it could connect them. Knit the broken fabric of humanity back together. Sure, they were knotting the world through cargo, but could that grid be stretched further? Net-in the corners of civilization? Without access, he’d never know.

“Is everything alright?” Fragile interrupted, “You’re staring.”

“My apologies,” Higgs shook his head and graced her with his most charming smile, “Sometimes I feel like my brain gallops this way and that and I’m just along for the ride.”

“Well, let me know if you crash into any ideas about these routes. I don’t know where else to cut corners and still keep the porters safe.”

Higgs rolled his chair over to the holographic drafting table where she was working. He had no qualms about saddling right up right next to her, their shoulders pressed together. Getting in another’s space revealed a lot about them. That Fragile didn’t shy away said something about her bravery. Whether or not that bravery was foolish, he had yet to learn.

Pointing with his pen, Higgs traced out a mountain passageway through the three-dimensional projection, “We used to go through here every once in a while. It’s a pain in the ass—rocky and overgrown—but no BTs. It’ll cut down a bit of time. Maybe twenty minutes.”

Fragile hummed in approval. He knew she counted every second. Any reduction in delivery time was a win. As she entered the calculations into a separate datapad, losing herself in the betterment of her business, Higgs realized this was his chance.

Propping an elbow on the desk with his chin on the heel of his palm, he casually threw out, “There might be a way to use The Beach.”

Fragile kept typing but quirked an eyebrow in interest, “How so?”

“Not sure yet, but I’ve been turning it over,” he shrugged, “Never been to a Beach, though, so I’m not familiar with the parameters, physics—hell, anything. But it seems like a waste not to look into it.”

After throwing a glance to the clock in the corner of her datapad, Fragile stopped working to meet his gaze, “I’ve got an hour before I need to be at the sorting bay, why don’t I take you to The Beach to get your creativity going?”

Higgs almost dropped his pen. Convincing her was easier than he thought it would be. She really just offered to take him to The Beach. The Beach. Like it was nothing. His jaw went slack as he started to comprehend what was about to happen. Ever since he’d dragged that body to the grove outside of that rusted-out Oklahoma bunker, felt the majesty of decay seeping out through its seams, he had longed for this.

“Really, Higgs,” Fragile mirrored his position on the desk, cheek braced with a fist, “If you wanted to go so bad, you could have asked me sooner. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“That obvious?”

“That obvious. Now, come on,” she rose from her seat, “let’s go to The Beach.”

Unsure of the process, Higgs stood and let her guide him in front of her with her hands bracketing his shoulders. The height difference was awkward, and she had to reach. She said something about the jump requiring touch, so he hooked his hands over the crooks of her elbows. It was almost like an embrace.

“Cozy,” he quipped, “Don’t you need your fancy umbrella for this?”

“Not if we’re just going to my Beach and back. But taking people isn’t easy,”  Fragile shushed him as she closed her eyes, “Stay quiet, so I can concentrate.”

They lapsed into silence, and Higgs became aware of their tandem breathing. It seemed like a sacred ceremony. Beaches were personal, and Fragile was permitting him to see hers. He stilled in reverence, allowing his neck to dip until his forehead grazed the stray hairs at the top of her head. As he exhaled and his lids slipped shut, he let himself be consumed by this prayer. 

(In a world where whales leapt from tar pits and the dead haunted the earth, belief in the supernatural made utter sense to him.)

The air fissured and snapped with chirality, electricity reverberating in his teeth, leaving an acrid flavor in his mouth. It was like they were in a vacuum, a void, where there was no air, no light, no sound, and yet everything in the universe was pressing in on them all at once. For a split-second, he felt it again. That undercurrent of power which crackled from corpses as they necrotized.

It felt so good.

It was over as quickly as it began. The world came rushing back with such speed that it made his ears pop. But it was different. Instead of steel beneath his boots, he felt the ground gave way as pliant sand. A soft breeze whispered against his eyelashes. The air was dense with moisture.

Higgs dared to open his eyes.

Unraveling his fists from the nylon fabric of Fragile’s jumpsuit, he took a step back and observed the coastline before him. It was monochromatic. Black razor ridges towered against a silvery sky, while smaller jagged rocks poked through the dusty blankets of sand. Along the shore, stalks of kelp rolled in the white-capped tide. The ocean depths beyond called out as the hush of water faded in-and-out, a most perfect symphony for these holy grounds.

It was everything.

Higgs let out a long low whistle and turned to give Fragile a wink.

She smiled at his antics, “I’m guessing you approve?”

“It’s beautiful,” he returned her grin with a lopsided smirk that revealed a single too-sharp canine, “Absolutely fuckin’ beautiful.”

[extraordinarilyirrelevant]

Back again with my bullshit!

Like I don’t even know what to say for this crack-iest of crackfics. It started out with me wondering how Kakuzu would be as a kid and wondering if he’d still be as obsessed with money as he is in canon, me thinking up that whole scene of Kid kuzu explaining how tax works to Hidan and then evolved into:

‘Kid kuzu would totally still be the adult with the man child Hidan’ and then BAM, this happened

That’s why you’ll notice the first part I refer to Kakuzu as his name and not Kid kuzu as I do sometime in the middle, it started out as a draft, me just putting my thoughts to paper and then crafting a story behind it. I mean I could quickly change it but shut up

That’s ALSO why it’s never stated that Hidan wants to get closer to Kakuzu until like the kid kuzu section, but what can you do? (see shrugging gif above)

Summary: through reasons not explored, Kakuzu somehow turns into a kid. Pain gives them time off until they fix things Hidan’s left to look after him

----

Hidan was scrutinizing the map pain given him with intense focus. Apparently, there was a empty house of one of Akatsuki’s suppliers that was willing to let the two use his estate that he only used on business trips outside his nation, located in Iwagakure they had quite the walk to get there from amegakure

The two would be station there until Kakuzu’s underlings got information on how to reverse this jutsu and turn the miser back to normal

The miser in question, was… well not himself. Even looking at the kid was weird, the taki missing nin was no longer his opposing and menacing self. He barely reached Hidan’s stomach and had short hair with plain old clothes, and don’t get Hidan started on those eyes-

“Woah!” Hidan yelped in surprised as he nearly tripped over exposed root sticking out of the ground. He only managed to save face thanks to small hands grabbing his cloak 

“Every good ninja is aware of their surroundings” Kakuzu stated as a matter of fact, sounding quite unimpressed by Hidan’s slip up “What? Can’t multitask?” Kakuzu asked in a slightly mocking tone

“This fucking map!” Hidan snapped, stopping his urge to rip the damn thing in half “It’s fucking confusing as all hell, I can’t tell where the fuck we are or where we’re suppose to go!” He ruffled his silver hair in frustration when Kakuzu wordless snatched the thing away from him

“And that blasted leader wasn’t any help at all” Hidan grumbled in a foul mood “Go where the trees form a natural path” He mocked the instructions given to him “Fucking atheist should’ve at least pointed me in the right direction, I swear to Jashin I’ll curse him one day”

Hidan haltered in his step when Kakuzu suddenly changed directions

“The hell are you going?”

“The right way” He answered simply as he jumped up into the trees

“Oi! Wait up!” Hidan called out as he jumped in after him, and was forced to follow after the boy as he didn’t relent or stray from their new path

----

Hidan panted as he looked down at the house they’d be staying in, It was rather large and spacious, tradition down to the secluded pond with a Rock Waterfall, with bonsai tree on either end of the yard

Kakuzu was the first to hop into the yard, landing near the stone path leading into the house. Hidan followed suit and continued looking around, catching a enclosed enclave situated between the house’s structure. It was a damn nice place

Entering, it was traditional as tradition got with Tatami mats covering the expansion of the floor save for the wooden entrance where one was meant to take off one’s shoes. Kakuzu proceeded in, respectfully taking his shoes off and getting acquainted with their new living space for the time being; only briefly considering ransacking the place of it’s goods and pawning them off to get more money, before he reminded himself that he frequented business with this man and that it’s be unwise to tarnish that relation

Hidan stormed past him in excitement, Kakuzu noticing with distaste that the zealot didn’t bother showing the proper pleasantries of taking his shoes off. Sighing before opening a room up to find a single lone table accompanied by cushions adorning the floor, eating place he noted before closing the sliding doors

Walking down the hallway further, Kakuzu wanted to find the washroom to shower before heading to bed, it was a long journey to Iwagakure and the duo travelled nonstop for two days just to get here

At least this house was relatively secluded from any town or village, less people aware of their stay the better

“Kakuzu!” Hidan called out for him, making his way over to where the voice came from, he found Hidan in the bedroom “Look at that bed! It’s like fucking royalty!” He exclaimed as he jumped onto the big cushion-y bed. Nearly being devoured by it when he sank in before he sprung back up to land just before Kakuzu

“And their bathroom isn’t to shabby either” Hidan smirked that smirk that always managed to piss Kakuzu off “Want to take a bath together?”

Kakuzu blanked at that

“Hidan?”

“Yeah?”

“Say something that disgusting again, and I’ll drown you in the pond to feed the koi fish” Kakuzu threatened seriously to which Hidan only snickered “Fucking relax heathen, didn’t you bath with your parent growing up? I mean you’re a kid now. I won’t exactly be looking forward to seeing anything down there”

Although Hidan had a valid point, it still irked Kakuzu making his blood boil “I can manage on my own. Just go to bed, you can shower tomorrow morning”

“Oi!” Hidan yelled catching his attention “You’re the brat now got it, whatever I say goes!”

“That logic is as deluded as you” Kakuzu mused as he entered the bathroom and locked the door, ignoring the shouts of protest outside, opting to take his clothes off and start his shower

----

----

“I thought everyone knew people with higher taxable incomes are subject to higher tax rates, and people with lower taxable incomes are subject to lower tax rates?” Kid kuzu seemed legitimately confused that this wasn’t common knowledge “Your tax bracket is based on “taxable income”, which is your gross income from all sources, minus any tax deductions you may qualify for” He explained while going through the finance sheets with minimum difficulties, only occasionally pulling out a calculator to punch some numbers in before scribbling down some more numbers

Kid kuzu sighed “A tax deduction is a dollar amount you can subtract from your taxable income. The lower your taxable income, the lower your tax bill” the boy explained further when Hidan looked although he were speaking a foreign language “Being an adult I figured you’d have at least the bare minimum knowledge for this sort of thing, but I guess I was expecting too much”

“Listen here you little shit, I denounced material crap the moment I devoted myself to Jashin-sama! Whatever I need, I kill for it” Hidan went to jab his chest only for a small hand to catch the appendage with ease, bending it enough to strain muscles in a wordless threat of breaking the damn thing should Hidan do anything else

“Jashin sounds like the god of poverty” He stated bluntly as he threw Hidans hand back at him and closed his little book before setting it aside and standing up “I find religion to be a waste of time, it certainly doesn’t pay bills. Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going outside” Kakuzu explained as he opened the sliding door leading outside, taking a book with him as he hopped into the gated backyard

“Where are you going?” Hidan asked, peaking his head out to see the little fucker as he made his way to the shade of a tree to sit down and start reading in silence

Hidan growled as he hopped into the backyard too, hands on his hips as silence stretched between the two. Kid kuzu seemingly content to read in silence “What are you doing?” Hidan asked annoyed

“Don’t ask questions with obvious answers” Kakuzu snarked back at him without skipping a beat “But I guess someone as stupid as you never heard of it; it’s called ‘reading’.” All without looking up from his book

“I get that you smartass, but why the hell did you bother coming out here for?” At that Kakuzu looked up at him, his green eyes (alarmingly normal with the absence of red sclerae) before cocking a brow in silent question

“You could’ve easily read inside” Hidan pointed out

“Habit” He answered curtly

“Growing up in Takigakure a epidemic of sorts spread, and my mother was bed ridden. She was the superstitious type and wouldn’t want me near her in fear that she’d infect me with this unknown illness plaguing our village. Sounded like rubbage to me, but she kept pestering me about it” Kakuzu shrugged and let his shoulders sag some as he relaxed against the bark “So whenever I wasn’t keeping up with our financial situation for us, I’d go outside to read” wordlessly gestured to the book

Hidan couldn’t believe he was doing this, but if it meant getting closer to Kakuzu it was worth a shot. Perching in a crouched position to get on the smaller boys level, Hidan sighed as he ran a hand through his silver locks before asking “And how did that… make you feel?” Even to him it sounded awkward as all hell, he almost regrets even asking until Kakuzu simply shrugged

“My mother always kind of annoyed me, she was weak willed and had serious insecurity from father leaving. So she tended to smother me” Kakuzu recalled “Although I worried for her health as many kids would, I found interest in the adult world. Money was fascinating to me, even as a kid. It was the most powerful force the world had”

“What do you mean?”

“With money you could do anything. Money had the power to save or ruin lives. Take my mother for example, because our money was going into paying off our property, we hardly had any left for her. So when she became ill, she couldn’t get the proper medical treatment she required and died because of it. Money and our lack thereof killed her” he answered in a bored tone as he flipped the page

Hidan wasn’t one to care for death, that shit happened. So, he didn’t really know how to approach this. Should he laugh it off and say that’s Jashin’s divine punishment for placing money above god like he always did? Or try sympathizing? Hidan really didn’t know since he easily sees the brat getting annoyed with either one he chose. The silence stretched between the two and Hidan let it since Kakuzu himself seemed content to leave it as that

“The fuck” Hidan mumbled as he finally took note of the book in Kakuzu’s hand and blanked when he read the title ‘how to make a profit’ Hidan scoffed, leave it to kid kuzu to read boring ass shit like that for fun

Snatching the book, Hidan stood at his full height when Kakuzu snarled and tried grabbing it back

“Hidan” Kakuzu’s voice was like that of a patient mother a second away from scolding a child, Hidan found that ironically hilarious seeing how Kid kuzu barely came up to his stomach “Give that back” He demanded with a glare

“Haven’t you ever been a kid? I mean I now back in your day it was expected to be a ninja from a young age, but damn. I think I’m starting to see why you’re such a grouch all the god damn time” Hidan noted with a sympathetic shake of his head “Come on little guy” Hidan said as he tossed the book behind him uncaring as he hefted the kid up by the arms

“Hidan. Put me down” Kakuzu said not really struggling. But he sounded immensely annoyed to Hidan’s amusement

“Can’t believe this small body of yours becomes your imposing self later in life. I bet puberty hit you like a truck” Hidan chuckled, and when Kakuzu began struggling in his hold. The zealot could only find his efforts cute

“Where are we going?” Kakuzu question unamused. He promptly gave up knowing struggling would be pointless. Hidan wished he kept at it, it really was adorable watching his tiny arms and legs thrash about

“To the park”

“Hidan, I’m not going to play” Kakuzu spat the word ‘play’ out in a disgusted manner

“And why the hell not?” Hidan spat back

“Because I’m a grown ass man nearing 100” He answered dryly

“To anybody and everybody you look like a kid, I bet even other Akatsuki members wouldn’t recognize you” the platinum haired man tried to reason “Just fucking let loose and take this chance to have fun”

“My definition of ‘fun’ isn’t that of a normal persons Hidan. My fun is silence, my fun is curled up under the shade of a tree with a good book. Not doing pointless play and socializing more than I must” Kakuzu began resisting again, giving a loud growl of frustration when he gave up yet again as he didn’t even budge in Hidan’s grip

“And it’s definitely not being carried off by my idiot partner to be forced to do just that” Hidan stopped, setting Kakuzu down, Kakuzu was surprised at this and looked up at him as they silently held each others gaze

“Can we do something?” It sounded like a plea, and Kakuzu hardened a glare at the sound of it

“Like what?” He ground out, crossing his arms angrily as he really couldn’t be bothered to do anything. He just wanted to read damnit

“What do you want to do” Hidan paused and looked to consider something before he added “That’s not reading” Kakuzu tsk’d audibly

Time passed as Kakuzu mulled over what the two could do together

More time passed, a gentle breeze whipping past the duo

“…”

“You really can’t think of anything can you?” Hidan asked with a small amount of pity in his voice, it pissed the miser off

“Well what did you do back in your day? Did you find anything enjoyable? Anything at all?” Hidan prompted, trying desperately to get something. But Kakuzu was giving him nothing to work with

“Training”

“Huh?” Hidan asked stupidly, dumbfounded

“Training” Kakuzu reiterated “It was the few things me and my father used to do together before he left. I remember learning how to throw kunai was fun” He explained

Hidan beamed startling Kakuzu

“Then let’s fucking“ Hidan drawled to look around trying to find a place to practice, not seeing anything “er- Let’s fucking do it” Hidan nodded before grabbing the smaller hand in his to drag him back to the backyard of their little impromptu house

‘Progress’ was all the albino could think. After spending an entire week with the man, finally he was making some real progress. He couldn’t screw it up

----

“You need to flick your wrist and add more power” Kakuzu explained with mild irritation

“It’s not my fault I never fucking use these things, I mean who would with a scythe like this” Whipping it off of his back he made a show of showcasing his prized weapon by flinging it around like a madman Kakuzu sighed

“You graduated without perfecting this simple trick?” Kakuzu questioned in disbelief “my, how far have shinobi fallen?”

“Hmph, this whole thing is stupid anyways” Hidan concluded snobbily as he turned his nose up and crossed his arms over his chest

“Nobody forced you to do this you know, let’s just call it quits”

“No!” Hidan said hurriedly only to scratch the back of his head awkwardly “I mean, I think I almost got the hang of it”

“…” Kakuzu stared at his partner before narrowing his eyes “Not even close” He stated bluntly “Your trajectory was awful; your wrist flick needs work and your power was pathetic”

“Hah?! You got a problem you little shit?! I’ll fricken sacrifice you to Jashin-sama don’t test me!”

“Calm down” Kakuzu glared over at him “I’m sure that even someone as hopeless as you could learn to do this if you tried harder” Kakuzu explained as he walked over to the man, stopping just in front of him and stared up at the man before gesturing for the man to lower himself

Hidan did after a second, and Kakuzu held his hand. Hidan jolted at the contact not expecting it in the slightest before Kakuzu adjusted his grip on the kunai and turning to position his hand properly before taking a step back

They stared at each other, Hidan in stunned silence before it became apparent that Kakuzu wanted him to try throwing it now “…” keeping his hold the way Kakuzu adjusted it for him, he lined up his shot before whipping it like a dart

-Twunk- the sound of the kunai’s sharp edge embedding into the wooden tree of bark. It missed the target’s middle by quite a bit. But it was an improvement seeing how Hidan couldn’t get the damned thing to stick before now

“See?” Kakuzu asked condescendingly, pissing the jashinist off

Kakuzu walked over once more to handed him his own kunai, Hidan took it and again Kakuzu stared at him. Knowing what that meant he did his best to hold the weapon like how Kakuzu showed him before throwing it again

“Oh!” Hidan gleefully cheered once it nearly hit the center “Did you fucking see that shit?” He questioned snapping his head from the target to kid kuzu and back

Kakuzu let out a chuckle at his overzealousness of his minor (and admittingly unimpressive) accomplishment “I did indeed” He needlessly informed the other

By the time the sun was setting, Kakuzu realized that they spent practically the whole day kunai throwing

“Hidan, make diner” Kakuzu demanded as he stalked towards the house, his hands were killing him. He can’t remember the last time he did the basics of kunai throwing for so long

“Take out?” Hidan asked, not really feeling up to cook, his arms were quite sore as well, turns out making a competition of who can hit the center of a target the most in an hour was draining (Kakuzu won)

“Don’t be lazy, we can’t let just anybody find out we’re here. I mean, if anyone saw your face, they’d recognize you as part of the Akatsuki immediately”

“Fiiine~” Hidan whined as he stomped his feet childishly to the kitchen, surprised when soft sounding footsteps followed after him. Peering over his shoulder he saw his ‘little’ companion

Kakuzu picked up on his silent question “I could cut the vegetables” was all he said

[iphoenixrising]

Have you ever thought of doing a random "accidentally married" thing with Tim? Say, he has a good day and helps two complete. Only those two people aren't actually human, and by helping them he accidentally married them by their traditions? I was reading a fanfiction about an accidental marriage and thought about your Tim.

Hi babe.

Ah, the only one I’ve done is here: https://iphoenixrising.tumblr.com/post/176647509047/from-that-writing-thing-you-reblogged-in-your. 

It’s a little bit of TimDami for your day ;)

But, I’m thinking like Red Robin just chilling out and taking down some awful alien bad guys hiding out on Earth with these two Barrilion detectives. The team is on a break for two weeks, so Red has found something to keep him occupied.

Barlot and Salsdan are good detectives. They’ve studied enough of Earth’s customs on their way chasing the gang of intergalactic baddies to get most of his terrible references. 

So, really. Score.

It’s even better when they finally track a shady link to the underground selling very advanced weaponry. His usual Whirlybirds are super effective and the small throwing discs Salsdan gave him before they made their way into the abandoned installation.

Since he would be a bad planetary host if the visitors got injured during an operation, he takes a few more hits than necessary to throw both of them out of the way one time or another. 

Still, it doesn’t take much more effort than a usual brawl between the team and H.I.V.E, so after the thugs are tied up and the aliens cuffed with special manacles, Red Robin is prepared to call it a good night.  

He ends up on their ship, patching himself up, talking to an ambassador on the wave comm to give his statement as “local law enforcement” (they don’t need to know differently), and rides to the Watch Tower with them to transfer the baddies to a holding cell and wait for a prison ship to swing by this sector.

Red Robin gives them a good-bye wave, and goes to the room he still has on the Watch Tower. One inside the Titan’s main set of rooms, a place he can get out of the suit and take a shower. 

He doesn’t expect the two detectives to be following him, and slip inside the main room with him until there are suddenly hands all over his body.

“This is lovely,” Barlot is at his throat, teeth moving over the tendon, drawing a gasp out of the pinned vigilante. “Perfect place for the first mating. Agree, partner?”

Salsdan moans in his mouth, eats his noises right down.

“Come, come, let him at least breathe. Stop being greedy!”

That shakes him out of being very pliant with the attention (it’s been a while, don’t judge, okay?), and the vigilante senses kick in automatically.

He flips over Barlot’s smaller figure, puts his back to the door, hands up for a possible strike. “What the utter fuck–”

“You saved our lives,” Salsdan blinks at him, hands up, “that’s the best courting gift I’ve ever got, even from this blort.”

“I gave your a perfectly acceptable gift!” Barlot snipes back, eyes all for the beautiful, intelligent Earthling he is fairly salivating to have.

“Stop. Right. There.” Red only straightens slightly, “I did not give anyone a courting gift. At. All.”

“Husband,” Barlot chances a step closer, his unusual eyes softly fond, “aiding us in our quest is absolutely a courting gesture. But saving us? Both of us? At great risk to yourself? What else could that be except proof you like us enough to be– um, to be…joined? Ah, no, something else? Um…”

Salsdan is beside him, subtly getting even closer to the shocked vigilante. “Married, Bar. It is termed differently in our language, but the premise is the same.” And the hand suddenly on his jaw is just slightly cooler, softer than a normal human hand, turning him to look in those eyes. “When you spilled blood for us, you claimed us as yours, Husband.”

“I’m sorry…I what now?”

He flinches a little, but Barlot has him by one wrist, both of them closing in, “now, we can either accept by completing the ritual with copious mating and make vows.”

Copious. Mating.

What the hell has he gotten himself into?!

“This is a huge misunderstanding,” he deadpan even though the hand working itself to the back of his neck is rubbing out the knots there. “I am way too young to get married, and I saved you because it would be totally shitty of me to let any visitors on my planet get killed by bad guys.”

With his free hand, he grips Salsdan’s wrist, stopping the motion. His other hand turns in Barlot’s, holding both aliens still. 

The two detectives exchange a glance, something that vaguely reminds him of how Nightwing and Hood exchange those couple-y looks. 

“We definitely misunderstood,” Barlot turns back to meet his whiteouts with a small smile. “Our apologies.”

“If you would be open to it, we would still enjoy mating with you?” Salsdan finishes hopefully. “Without the joining, I promise. But you are quite a lovely creature, Red Robin. Bar and I would very much enjoy taking you to bed.”

Well, this is better than expected.

“…Tim. I… My name is Tim.”

Both aliens step up into him again, taking the statement for what it was.

Permission.

This time he can fall back into their hands, peel away layers of the suit, and drunkenly walk them through the communal room to his own. His mouth and body are kept busy with their attention and his own exploration. 

The make soft clicking noises against him, longer, rougher tongues on the sensitive parts of his body, and it feels fucking amazing to be touched.

It’s even better to be bracketed in by two bodies in between rounds for the next 48 hours, to be bare and held in a tangle of limbs, for lazy kisses against the back of his neck, the soft nips, and lithe tongue sliding back in his mouth when he’s awake enough to moan. 

But he doesn’t feel terrible when the fun is ended with a wave from home world. The next case is coming up, so it’s time to go home. And their last time trying out his shower is the absolute best way to diplomatically say come back any time.

He sees them to their ship suited up and masked, hair still slightly wet from the shower.

They shake his hand with soft smiles and a promise to try coming back one day. He grins back without believing a word, gives best of luck on the next move in the fight against the baddies, and goes back to his regularly schedule crime fighting time.

It’s a few months later, maybe when Tim’s working something close with the Batfamily in Gotham when the Barrilions show up again, and greet him with a little too much PDA for Hood and N not to notice. 

(Who zzat fucker nuzzlin’ my Timmy?)(If I’m going to cause an intergalactic incident, it’s going to be tonight.)

“Whoa! Nice to see you guys too,” while Red is literally lightheaded with how hot his face is, “right in the middle of a case here. This is Nightwing and the Red Hood. My…colleagues.” 

He doesn’t even see it when both vigilantes whip right the hell around to give him intense stares from behind whiteouts.

“Oh! More Earth law enforcements!” Barlot keeps an arm around his waist, above the utility belt. “How nice to meet you. Did our almost-Husband tell you of our adventures here on your planet?”

Salsdan slides up on his other side, and Red Robin pauses when he really, really thinks about how the aliens are both taller than him, lean muscle with dark-hair, strong jawlines and Barlot has a blue stripe in the fluff of hair above his eyes while Salsadan moves like a dancer…

(Oh. Fuck.)

“Almost-Husband, Red? Wanna ‘splain that ta us?”“Your…friends need to follow planetary protocol for all aliens, Red Robin,” and Nightwing is standing with back straight and an impressive loom going on there. “They have to check-in with the JLA at the Watch Tower before coming on-world.”

“Oh! Our mistake,” Barlot flutters his eyes at them with a smirk, “perhaps Tim could come with us to check in so we will know proper procedure for next time.”

Which is absolutely a crock of shit.

And the Bats seem to pick-up on it, Hood taking him by the wrist, pulling him away in a move that is terribly possessive for someone he just, you know, fights crime with and shit. 

“Ya already been visiting, asshole,” is low with the synths, “n’ we gotta date with our boy here. Earth business, s’ do me a solid an’ fuck off.”

Which will probably end with Hood and N trailing Red Robin back to his Perch when the sun is riding the sky in Gotham. The whole almost married thing will come out and probably spurn some terribly sweet scene with Jason and Dick pinning him down and demanding he say he’s theirs, not some alien fuckers, Timmers. We gotcha first.

Totally had dibs, Timmy.  So. Much. Dibs.

And something utterly insane is going to pop out of his kiss-swollen mouth, something he’s wanted for so fucking long–

“Prove it.”

**

WOW. That ah…that got long huh babe?

[someonestole15]

Like riding a bicycle

Down below, the water moves across the ship’s hull, I can picture myself drowning in it.

No, focus on the task, else the future is what you see beneath you. Can’t swim, only fall to the bottom under the darkness. Thoughts heavy in my head, I gripped the rifle tighter as I dropped down from the runway to a catwalk running along the side of it, the metal creaked and bent as my boots made contact with it. Catch yourself before you fall, I wrapped my hand around the railing and stabilized my footing as the waves below made the water seem almost black.

Breathe in, fresh air, how long has it been since you’ve been able to breathe without fearing a bullet? Too long, I’d say. Eyes back up, head cleared, I checked my chamber and made my way down the catwalk.

Binoculars built in to the visor, I scanned the shore for a moment before the source of the jamming. Corporation issue outpost carved into the forest around 500 meters away from the ship, too far for me to reach from where I was and swimming was out of the question. Faint comms signal between the three of us that allowed for communications, I got information on how Nine and Valkyrie were doing.

The gun was almost up and running, Nine’s systems managed to pass the software by connecting directly to the circuits; Valkyrie was keeping watch and keeping some of the dropships at bay by aiming for the cockpits. A hatch below me, the words danger and don’t step labelled on it in large white letters, I wrapped my rope around the railing and lowered myself down. Not much to grab hold of, I kept my cable connected as I moved closer to the hatch, running almost vertical along the slanted armor.

Close enough, I jammed my blades into the slit running down the middle of the hatch and pulled back. Metal creaking and bending, both my blades and the hatch, it gave away and slid open. A tunnel running further into the ship, large enough to walk through, lined with magnets that were seemingly off.

Cable disconnected from the railing, I avoided stepping on any magnets as I walked through the tunnel. Light at end of it, I dropped down into what looked like a garage, a lift that looked as if it was designed to line something up with the magnet tunnel. Several shapes hiding in the darkness, covered in cloth under the dim lighting, I ripped one of the covers off.

Vehicle similar to the bike I had once driven on Earth, sleek body and winglets near the front and back, thruster out the back. No wheels, four smaller engines had taken their place. Tips of missiles exposed from the front fairing, I placed my hand on the fuel cell. The bike roared to life, rising a few centimeters off the floor and hovering there.

“User: UNKNOWN.” an AI voice reached my comms,

“Add new user.”

“Designation found within database, adding profile… Done. Please make sure you are correctly equipped to use the vehicle. Closest kit added to HUD.”

A cabinet behind the bike glowed blue on my HUD, inside I found a helmet and a chest rig fitting over my vest, a tube of oxygen running from it to the helmet. Hell, if this thing is anything like the one I had on Earth, it’s time to see if I can still ride one.

Hood down, helmet on my head, systems green, I climbed on the bike and ran through the preflight checklist it gave me. No control yet, the AI guided the bike over to the lift and secured it.

“User, ready?”

“Ready.”

“Brace for acceleration.”

A brace against my back, my body magnetized to the bike, the magnets in the tunnel lit up as the force pulled the bike forward with rapid speeds.

“User, remember to breathe.”

Catch your breath, feel the wind push against you as you fly like the phoenix you are, burn them down.

“Autopilot released, User has full control.”

Slight stumbling before I got the hang of the controls, the handlebar worked like the stick on aircraft, push forward for down, pull back to go up, and the magnetic saddle kept me from falling off. HUD filled with lines and grids; I kept low on the approach to the shore, leaning down as to ease off the wind.

Signals out, I floored the gas and pulled up over the trees as I focused on the signal trace within the forest. A dropship lined up behind me, I could almost see the pilots smug face through the glass as he opened fire with the machineguns mounted below his cockpit.

Key to mobility is being agile and ready for almost anything, I hadn’t simply forgotten the enemies flying around, I had thought ahead. Pull back, deactivate the engine and feel gravity take over as I line up the front of the bike with the dropship. Pull the trigger, a barrage of missiles left the bikes launcher, clouding any point-defense the ship might have. My sky, the ship started falling out of the skies as I reactivated the booster and got my wings back.

A few more ships attempted to face me; a few bullets made it quite close, the booster took a few hits before a trail of grey some trailed me across the sky. Keep it together now, the distance was getting shorter as the dips down got more frequent. Gain altitude, the jammer started to form in view, as the engine struggled to keep me up. One last boost, wings deployed to carry the high-tech piece of engineering through the sky even without the engine. Four brackets forming around the towers radar dish, from green to red, I pulled the trigger as the one final burst of missiles left the bike, dancing across the air like an ice-skater carrying several sticks of dynamite.

A few flashes of blue as the energy shielding around the tower kept some of missiles from reaching past it, the rest however had unrestricted access to the upper half of the jammer.

Cloud of dust rising from the fallen tower, my comms were filled with signals crossing the area, both Empire and Corporation. No time to listen in, the engine below I spooled down as the AI warned of heavy damage.

“User, EJECT, EJECT.”

Red handle between my legs, I pulled it. Magnets disabled, the bike fell faster than I, the AI pulled a chute mounted within the kit and so my descent was quite calm, other than the bike self-destructing once it landed.

Landing zone not clear, I crashed through several trees as the parachute got snatched up with the branches.

Calm things down a bit, my audio zoned out the gunfire and explosions further out. It’s almost peaceful at times like this, dangling here like a puppet from my strings.

Focus, the battle still rages around. Cut of the strings, I landed in the moss below and removed the helmet, Valkyrie’s voice over the comms.

“Guessing that was you? Good timing.”

“How so?”

“Empire is evacuating the ship, they have it locked in and the damage is beyond repair. Get to an opening and light up a flare, we’ll find you.”

“Understood.”

Remove the kit, pull the hood back over my head and get a flare out to my vest. Anti-air fire cleared the skies around, the Empire fighters keeping the dropships still attempting to approach at bay. Mask over my face, I jogged through the bushes and moss, finally reaching an opening in the trees, large enough to fit a helicopter.

Flare ignited, an Empire fighter flew overhead before a quadrotor helicopter arrived to the scene.

“We got you on scope, Specter, dropping a ladder.”

A ladder from the rear ramp, I grabbed hold as the helicopter started moving again.

“Hold on, the AO is very hot.”

Out of the frying pan, the wind still whistled in my ears as the ramp closed up. Breathe in, I sat down on one of the seats and passed out for a moment. Not sure how long I was out before the first wake up, but Nine and Valkyrie had joined me on the row of seats, Nine laying down on my right and Valkyrie with her head in my lap lying to the right. Both fast asleep, I connected the charger cable to my neck and fell asleep again.

Rest easy and count your losses, you could have not seen this coming. Where will you wake up?

[tipsyraconteur]

The Old Razzle Dazzle, Part 6

Pairing: KakaSaku Rating: E Word Count: ~2.5k

Read on AO3 | Read on FF.net Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Here’s the last part… until the sequel! ;) Thanks for reading!

-

Sakura let out a breath of relief as she and Kakashi neared the gates of Konoha, running at the same hurried clip that they’d been traveling at since they’d left the hotel that morning. Chancing a quick look at Kakashi, she got an eyeful of his ass he ran in front of her, and her face heated up as her mind replayed scenes from the night before.

They’d been up almost the whole night, making use of practically every surface in the hotel room. Once he’d decided to stop holding back, Kakashi had been insatiable, and Sakura had lost track of the number of times he’d brought her to the brink of orgasm only to throw her headlong over the edge. It had been nearly dawn when they’d both finally collapsed on one of the beds, bodies tangled together.

In the morning, however, things had been… different. More accurately, they’d gone back to normal, as if the night before had never happened. Kakashi had woken Sakura up later than they’d originally planned, telling her that they needed to move quickly if they were going to get back to Konoha at their designated time. In order to keep to their schedule, they’d had to maintain a fast pace all the way home, which made conversation impossible.

It didn’t, however, stop Sakura from thinking—and she did plenty of that. She’d had sex with Kakashi. What did it mean? Did it even men anything? From what little interaction they’d had since then, he’d seemed to be back to his friendly yet slightly aloof self. Had he really only had sex with her to convince her not to tell Naruto about his experience as a drag queen? She’d assumed that was just an excuse, but his behavior was making her reconsider. Was it really that easy for him to return to normal?

It wasn’t easy for Sakura. In fact, there was a dull ache in her chest when she thought about their interactions becoming platonic again. Maybe he’s just really awkward with this kind of stuff, a hopeful part of her mind suggested. But it was hard to believe that; this was Kakashi, after all, a noted genius. He was good at everything he put his mind to.

He also reads porn in public and hides behind a mask all the time. He’s not exactly great at social interaction, that same inner voice pointed out, and Sakura sighed in frustration. Her thoughts had been like this all day—going from remembering the night before, to thinking about whether their dalliance would continue, to thinking Kakashi didn’t want anything more than one night, to thinking that maybe there was a possibility he did. And then she would look at him and remember what he’d looked like in the throes of passion, and the whole cycle would start over again. It was exhausting.

Kakashi and Sakura both slowed their pace as they approached the check-in station at the gates. Izumo and Kotetsu greeted them both from inside their booth, and Kakashi offered a greeting in return as he went to sign them in. Sakura just smiled, knowing she was being pensive but unable to stop her circular thoughts. Letting her gaze wander, she fell back into the same mental trap of trying to understand just exactly what motivated Hatake Kakashi.

“Sakura.”

She blinked as Kakashi’s voice interrupted her mental carousel, looking up from the random spot on the ground that she’d been staring at. Kakashi was watching her closely, his expression unreadable.

“The Hokage left note that he wants to see us immediately,” Kakashi continued, holding up the scroll that Naruto had sent.

They exchanged a look. They both knew why Naruto wanted to see them—he wanted details about the mission. The salacious kind. Something told Sakura that he wasn’t going to be happy when he didn’t receive them.

“Well, I guess we should go get this over with,” Sakura said with a sigh, and they both said their goodbyes to Izumo and Kotetsu and darted off in the direction of the Hokage Tower.

When they arrived at Naruto’s office, the doors were already open. A veritable herd of shinobi aids stood inside, and the din was considerable. Shikamaru stood to one side, deep in conversation with one of the aids, while several more stood in front of Naruto.

The second Naruto saw them, he clapped his hands with barely-restrained glee. "Alright! We can deal with this later. Right now, I want everyone but you two to leave," he said, pointing at Kakashi and Sakura. "You can stay, too," he added offhandedly to Shikamaru.

As the various aids filed out with the sound of pattering sandals and shuffling papers, Kakashi and Sakura took their places in front of Naruto's desk, standing at attention. Shikamaru slouched into a chair behind a smaller desk to the side, returning to some paperwork and apparently uninterested in the conversation that was about to happen.

Naruto informally leaned against the front of his desk, grinning at them. "I'm ready to hear your report."

"The mission was a success," Kakashi began. "The client was right—the owner was up to illegal activity in the club." Kakashi went on to explain how the owner had been filming the staff in various stages of undress backstage and running a cam site with the results. "In addition to two low-rank missing nin that were hired to protect the establishment, the owner himself was also a missing nin. All three are in ANBU custody now."

Naruto seemed interested in the explanation at first, but as Kakashi continued, he began to fidget, that bright grin still on his face. "That's great and all—good job, really—but I don't care about that! Tell me about Kakashi in drag!" he nearly shouted, looking expectantly at Sakura.

Sakura didn't answer, and Naruto impatiently turned back to Kakashi, his grin faltering slightly before returning full force as he asked, "What did you wear? Did you have to put on a little show?"

"It was a standard mission that ended successfully," Kakashi responded blandly, his gaze focused somewhere above Naruto's head.

"Bullshit!" Naruto exclaimed. "Sakura-chan, tell me what happened!"

Sakura remained silent, pressing her lips together and fighting the urge to squirm under Naruto's increasingly fierce blue gaze. Shikamaru, meanwhile, had abandoned his paperwork and was watching the exchange with new interest.

Naruto threw his hands up in exasperation. "What the hell, Sakura-chan! We had a deal!" Upon hearing this, Kakashi turned to look at her beadily, one brow raised.

Sakura’s jaw tightened, and she cleared her throat before finally speaking. “I’m afraid I can’t remember any details, Hokage-sama. It all seems to have slipped my mind.”

Eyes wide with disbelief, Naruto looked from Sakura to Kakashi, who gave him a benevolent smile that made creases appear at the corners of his eyes. Naruto flailed slightly as his index finger stabbed the air in Kakashi's general direction. "What the hell did you do? What happened?!"

Kakashi's voice was mild as he replied, "I can assure you that everything I did on this mission, I did with great skill and vigor."

Sakura abruptly choked on nothing, coughing as her brain supplied several indecent examples of Kakashi’s skill and vigor. She felt him lightly pat her back and restrained herself from the urge to throttle him, not having to look at him to know he was enjoying this.

She composed herself in time to see Naruto draw himself up to his full height as he frowned at her. "I am your Hokage. I demand an explanation."

Kakashi leaned toward Sakura and loudly whispered, "Don't listen to him. Rise up against your oppressor."

Naruto's jaw dropped, blue eyes wide. "You can't do that. That's—”

"Sedition, Hokage-sama," Shikamaru supplied, finally piping up. Sakura and Kakashi both turned to stare at him, and he shrugged lazily, looking amused. "What? You're over there fomenting rebellion." Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, as if to concede that he had a point.

"Fine!" Naruto barked as he glared at Sakura. "You don't want to tell me? Then I'm telling him that this was all your idea!"

There was a beat before Kakashi turned to look at her with narrowed eyes. “Interesting,” he said in a deceptively calm voice.

She cursed inwardly, trying to avoid both of their gazes and instead looking at Shikamaru, who gave her a “you’re on your own” shrug. Great. Naruto was pissed at her, and she definitely didn't trust that gleam in Kakashi's eye. Meekly, she asked, "Is there anything else, Hokage-sama?"

"Don't you give me that 'Hokage-sama' crap," Naruto said sulkily, obviously unimpressed with her obsequiousness. "I'm going to find out what happened, and what he did to get you to keep quiet about it!"

There was a moment of pregnant silence, where Sakura stood staring at the floor while Kakashi kept smiling that bland smile. Naruto finally pouted and said, "You both suck." Sighing in resignation as he realized that neither of them was going to break, he added, "You can go. But this isn't over."

As Sakura and Kakashi made their hasty exit, she carefully avoided catching his eye. When they were outside the building again, she awkwardly waved and said, "Well, I guess that's it! I'll see you later!" and began to beeline down the street in the general direction of her apartment. Between Naruto’s little admission and the awkwardness between them since they’d had sex, Sakura was ready to go home and hide for a while.

She had foolishly begun to hope that she'd been successful in her escape when she passed an alley and an iron grip closed around her upper arm, yanking her between two buildings. Kakashi, whom she assumed had flashstepped ahead of her, slowly walked her backward until she was pressed against the building behind her. He put a hand on either side of her head, effectively bracketing her in, and fixed her with an expectant look.

"Oh, hi again!" Sakura said with false cheerfulness. "What's up?"

Kakashi's eyes narrowed slightly but he didn't answer, letting her squirm.

"Oh... you're probably wondering about that thing Naruto said about the mission being my idea." She gave a laugh that was completely unbelievable. "I don't know what he's talking about, really."

Kakashi waited, gaze unwavering.

"Well... I mean... it was Naruto's idea to pick you for the mission. But I guess he just wanted you to be backup? And I might have… suggestedyoubeadragqueeninstead?" she finished in a single breath, her voice raising until it disappeared in a squeak.

There was a long moment of silence, and then he exhaled slowly through his nose before finally speaking. “You owe me now. You do realize that?” There was a faintly amused glint in his eye now, along with something that Sakura hoped was desire. Her heart began to flutter in her chest.

“What do I owe you?” she asked, keeping her hands by her side even though they were itching to touch him.

He looked up as he pretended to consider, and then he fixed her with that piercing grey stare again. “You’re going to have me over later.”

The slight uncertainty in his voice made her smile, and she tipped her head to the side. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Yes,” he answered, his mask stretching across his smile. Straightening, he cleared his throat as he stretched casually. “Well, I’m off. I’m going to take a nap. I plan to be up late tonight,” he added, and his eyes definitely held heat now as he fixed her with one last look.

“Oh,” Sakura replied stupidly, feeling her face heat up from the way he was looking at her. Inside, her heart was singing.

“See you later, Sakura,” Kakashi said, his voice having returned to his usual aloof tone, and he waved before disappearing in a flurry of leaves.

Sakura stood still for a long moment as a wide, stupid grin spread over her face, pressing her hands to her mouth. It wasn’t like he’d made a declaration of love or anything—not that that was even what she was looking for—but he’d shown a clear interest in her beyond the previous evening’s activities. And she was definitely interested in continuing… whatever it was they were doing.

Biting her lip to stifle an unacceptably girlish squeal, she hurried off in the direction of her apartment. She had a house to clean, a shower to take… and lingerie to pick out.

- Omake -

“You know what this means.”

Naruto’s voice rang through the all-too-rare silence that had previously filled his office, and Shikamaru sighed. He’d been expecting this.

“We can’t let this stand. I’m Hokage! That’s supposed to mean something!” Naruto’s voice was starting to take on a whiney quality that made Shikamaru have flashbacks to when they were twelve. “I want to know what happened!”

“There’s not a lot we can do,” Shikamaru countered. “Sakura doesn’t seem like she’s going to crack, and you know Kakashi will never tell you anything.”

That seemed to momentarily stump Naruto, who lapsed into silence, his face screwed up in thought. Shikamaru was about to return to his paperwork when Naruto suddenly exclaimed, “Hey! What if we just send them on another one?”

"Another what?"

"Another drag mission! We'll send them on another one and this time I'll send someone else..." Naruto trailed off, and then brightened and added, "And they can film it! I'll get Sai to do it!”

“Do you know how unlikely it is that we’ll get another mission that takes place in a drag club?” Shikamaru asked, exasperated.

Naruto waved his hand dismissively. “If you have to, find someone and offer our services for free. This is of the highest priority.”

Shikamaru fought the urge to clap his hand to his face. “You know we’re currently just one wrong move away from a trade war with Iwa, right? We kind of have bigger fish to fry right now.”

Naruto scowled. “Just do it!”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Shikamaru relented. “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“We’re going to have to make sure Sai has good equipment, I need to see everything,” Naruto was muttering to himself as he walked back behind his desk.

The idea was a stupid one, Shikamaru knew that. Still, Naruto was a good leader who deserved to have some fun occasionally, even if he was a giant pain in the ass. Standing, Shikamaru prepared to walk to the records office so that he could research the drag clubs of the shinobi world. There wouldn’t be a lot of information and ferreting it all out would probably take hours.

It was going to be a real drag.

[the-truth-behind-redacted]

Encounter and Brandishing

Dear Lockey, Entry 4

I have decided (partly because I don't really have answers and also because I'm grappling with an existential crisis) to quit speculating. The only way to gather more information is to live in the present and prepare for the future. For this, I began doing the things I should've done before I began wondering the purple walkway(s?) of eternity. That is getting versed with what I do have. The results were both extraordinary relieving, painfully disappointing, and bewilderingly frustrating at the same time.

The first thing I did was figure how to get the fucking armor off. Before trying this, however, I moved to a point where the paths various directions created a kind of really shitty pyramid. That's a really bad way to explain that. What I mean is that below the main path I'm walking is a set of other paths that, because of their angles on which they expand, a flat-ish expanse of land is created. I have noticed that there are paths now that completely intersect and form crossways but if I waited to get a formation like what I have now with them, I fear I might be too far in but I'll explain reasoning about that later.

Now that I was in a safe place where if I fall it most likely won't be straight into the abyss, I began trying to get it off. First I worked on getting the breastplate off as it restricted my waist movement quite a bit. I did the obvious thing first, searching for some kind of lock or clip on the breastplate that keeps it in place. Sadly, much to my own disappointment, there was no such thing. Seeing as it was completely solid as well, there wasn't going to be a way for me to somehow pull my arm inside and just take it off like a shirt. Actually, this brings me to something I should've pointed out by now.

This armor actually covers joint points or easy/fatal areas like the neck. These points have a much more flexible substance over them, that despite them being still quite clearly crystalline, allows for minorly impeded movement and extra protection. Honestly, this is just like Sci-fi bullshit to me but If it protects me, I guess I can't complain too much about that. That being said, this only makes it even harder to get off once it's on normally. With it covering every inch of me with no openings, or obvious mechanics to put on or off, how do I?

The answer to that is magic...LITERAL FUCKING MAGIC! To be open here, I eluded to the Red Man, as I'm going to be calling him (despite wearing black), using magic to deflect my gun's shots but I didn't exactly believe in it. It being a forgotten art was just me saying in a really prissy way that it was mythology. Something only found in storybooks, but I guess not! I was being facetious about this all being heaven, hell, purgatory but now that I know that magic is real, it might be true. Though as I said, I'm done with the speculation for now, and I don't want to really think about where my soul's going if I do die.

What I had to do was directly "will" it off. It wasn't just enough to want it off, I had to concentrate on its dematerialization. Summed up wonderfully by, I thought about it and it went poof. In a sudden instant, the armor let out a quick shine before disappearing completely. This was the first time I got a clear look at what I was wearing underneath. I don't exactly know what I was expecting to be underneath or if anything was underneath at all, but there is.

The first lair was a basic black hoodie. I took it off and looked at it and it had some kind of white flakes on the back. I assume this jacket had some brand name or logo on it that over time came off. Besides that, there isn't any kind of major identifier. Underneath I had a sports tank top and of course bra. Following the sports theme, I had on sports leggings all of which were black. Under my leggings were a pair of hot pink panties. Also, still a regular human which is oddly comforting to confirm. So if anyone is to find this book alone and find a body later on, you can identify me by clothing if I still have it, just don't look further creep.  

Another important thing I needed to figure out is if I had some kind of direct weapon. After one happening this has become an increasingly important thing for me to have. Thankfully, since I now understand the armor, the secrets of this crystalline material was unlocked. Just as with taking on or off the armor, all I had to do was "will" my weapon to me. At first, it was a sword, which I'm not exactly adept with so I tried to change what it was and thankfully (and conveniently) it morphed into something a bit more conventional for me.

The energy that formed the sword separated then formed some kind of diagram around my hands. The diagram formed into a seal to sigil. Finally, it connected around my wrists with a quick glaze around my hand. Three diagrams then scanned over my hands and settled into position on my hands. The first and largest rested over my wrists. The second, smaller than the first, circled around my hands in the middle of my palms. The final and smallest hovered just in front of the tips of my index, middle, and ring finger.

How this weapon worked is unconventional to say the least. Obviously or maybe not, by how it looks, the attacks it's capable of being are very heavily ranged. It doesn't have any limitation on what kind of projectile it can produce. In messing around with it shortly I've managed to produce bow arrows, crossbow bolts, bullets, plasma blasts, and some weirder ones.

Depending on what I'm trying for the three diagrams will change. For a bow and arrow, the diagrams on my hand that holds handle move off and create the structure of a peculiar bow. The smallest acts like a crosshair, the middle one hovers over the string on where I'm meant to pull the bow and the largest like some kind of printer moves back and made the bow. Then I grab where I'm meant to draw the string and an equally weird arrow forms in place by the diagrams on my other hand. From there, it's like a regular bow. I aim, pull, and fire. Interestingly, while the speed on which the arrow fires is dependent on how far I draw back, drawing doesn't take any actual strength. I'll cover everything this weapon can do and how it works in its own extra entry.

Now another topic to move onto is, I've made quite a few mentions of, "if you are to find this book," and that's because I'm honestly not sure how likely it is that I'll make it out alive. The sounds of nightmarish creatures have only increased and I'm beginning to think I'm seeing them out on the horizon on other paths. Of course, just as I suspected, flying seems necessary to get around this place and almost all have had wings. Both interestingly and worrying, the only one I have seen directly is a creature on one of the other paths.

This happened on my way to find a safety net of paths to mess around with the armor. A path that nearly intersected into the path I'm walking upon further extension, to where mine and the other path were a distance apart, I saw a rather unpleasant creature. Just like everything else related to this place, the thing was purple but it was a much deeper and darker purple.

While the paths were a bright lavender and crystals a basic purple, the creature that I will call spider totem, Sp-tem for short, was a darker violet. While I call it a "spider" it actually had twelve legs. Ten really thick short legs were at its bottom and two very long legs extended from its shoulders. Each leg had some kind of stinger at their tips. I saw Sp-tem lift itself on the shoulder legs which showed the bulk of its body.

Once on the long legs, the body split revealing an eye. Unlike the monster in the Red Man's room which had a bastardized human eye, the Sp-tem's eye was very different. The sides of the eyes narrowed to a point. Moving inward the outline expanded outward a little bit before leveling out. Inside, near the corners of its eye, two dashes barely avoided collision with what seemed to be brackets. The brackets were the in-between points positioned about what the lines on a unit representing one third would be. The insides of the eyes had yet smaller brackets with the pupil at the very center of the eye.

The once legs positioned themselves into a hand. The fingers had the stinger points as fingernails, and all of which were the very same length. From the top and bottom of the core of which the eye centers tubings came forth. Flagella barely hung out the opening at the front of the tubes. As for the core, exoskeleton lining detailed the body. Lines of the exoskeleton bulged out creating a diamond form with the tubes being the top and bottom points. Rock grinder looking tentacles lined its sides and spun from time to time. Next to the points of its eye, two noticeable pores pulsated with some thick viscous solution oozing out.

The encountered ended favorably as it merely stared me down as I moved past. Once I was a distance away it moved back to its original form and quickly scuttled away. It was weird, to say the least, but at least it wasn't horrible like the Red Man's things. I wonder how the encounter would've gone if I was on the same path as it. At this point, I hadn't learned how my equipment worked and didn't have a weapon. With the tentacles, it had a range advantage and its weapons were quite brutal, to say the least.

The Sp-tem didn't have any way to vocalize as far as I could tell so I doubt that it was what was making all the noise. This did confirm a few things that I was thinking since I got in here. First, nothing in this place will be something I can traditionally identify. Second, I'm far from the only thing in this place. Third and finally, real danger is afoot. As I get further and further in, I won't be able to write entries as frequently or long especially if the flying ones catch onto my existence. The likelihood of finding highly intelligent life is also high, judging from the complexity of the organism I just witnessed.

Oh, maybe I should explain what exactly spiders are because some might not be familiar with mythology. Spiders are a type of creature that existed back with the Precursor Humans. Back before the Extinction hit, be it a war, sickness, or parasite, humans lived on a planet called Earth. Very similar to Gee-Gerotous, Earth was a naturally inhabitable planet with its own kind of creatures. Out of all these creatures, Spiders were some of the most troublesome.

Before the advent of their advanced technology, Humans held a natural kind of fear of spiders. A common structure of spiders was that they had eight hairy legs and eight eyes. Some had six eyes but that wasn't the norm. They had an exoskeleton for their body. Most were generally small and lived in the corner or dark places were they would create a natural trap called a "web." However, many had natural poisons strong enough to kill humans or horrendously harm them.

An interesting group of spiders to note were a kind called "tarantulas" known for being large. From what information we have left from those times some of these things got larger than humans. There were a documented few that got larger than the average household and required military action to kill due to their danger. Needless to say, these creatures weren't something you would want to encounter big or small. If that Sp-tem was somehow based on old-time spiders, I'm glad I only encountered one that was human-sized and not that of a house. Then again, I'm not sure how something that big would get around on these tiny paths. What if further in there a larger paths that allow something like that to move around? Suddenly, I hate this place even more.                                                               … Dear Locket, Entry 4 Addendum

If there is such a thing as a household-sized Sp-tem in this place I had best be familiar with my weapon and document my findings. I didn't quite complete the explanation of what my weapon quite looks like. While dormant the weapon looks nothing more than like my hands were polished. Activation is noticed by the appearance of the diagrams in their respective positions. The diagrams moved in response to how my hands are positioned allowing for many more options of attack than that of traditional weaponry I know such as bows, guns, blasters, or crossbows.

As an example of how the diagrams respond, if I hold my open palm forward, instead of encircling my hands the diagrams equal with themselves in the same vertical line creating a seal. From there, how I direct my hand leads to different magical attacks. If I quickly sling my arm back then quickly launch it forward again three saws will launch forward on different paths which dissipate after about fifty meters. If I do the same motion but add an upward launch right after opening my palm, this will make one large saw instead of three medium ones.

While I haven't tried any elaborate movements, once again abyss, but I plan to try nonconventional movements if I ever get to a safer position. However, conventional weapons don't quite have the same question of threat so I tried to get similar results as the bow and I was pleased greatly when I did. Starting off, there's a crossbow. In order to summon the crossbow, I must straighten up my arms and sperate my middle and ring finger from each other.

The smallest diagram at my tips is once again a crosshair. The medium diagram expands and creates the limbs, the two extensions at the front of a crossbow, with the string pulled back. The large diagram creates a structure around my arms the functions as the bulk of the crossbow. This being the flight groove, trigger, latch,  arrow retention spring, barrel, and a few marks of the custom build by the magical nature of my weapon. A pair of goggles is also formed over my head that helps me judge where my bolts will hit due to the unorthodox nature of the crossbow.

Firing is weird and childish. I need cock-back my arm and push forward again. This method, however, makes this weapon very inaccurate because where I push my arms back forward is very rarely where I was originally aiming. While both cool and interesting, unless I'm fighting something that is an easy target I won't be hitting. Its range is very good though, easily going about one hundreds meters. For now, the simple bow and arrow are much more useful.

Next is guns. Guns are guns, and guns are cool. These guns are cooler. The first gun I tried was a simple handgun. By moving my hands into finger guns the large diagram quickly scans up my arms. This time the middle diagram created the main body with a thick metallic purple forming a trigger, handle, and barrel. The third diagram serves as the opening. Pulling the trigger lets out a fast burning purple pellet that combusts after a hard to judge distance.

That gun, however, isn't the only one I can make. If I hold my hands together and form and gun like that I get a drastically different result. The diagrams on both my hands merge together giving them much more energy to work with. First a barrel formes with some kind of compact front. From the bulk at the end of the barrel loose streams of energy leaks from them. The handle is made with the merged center diagrams. As a simple body is made, an elaborate scope is made starting with feathered wings attached at the back of the barrel.

A swirling diagram quickly spins with runic lettering inside. The wings expand revealing the sight then the bulk at the end of the barrel opens. The bulk is revealed to be what seems to be two small energy concentrator and four mini mini-guns. A simple pull of the trigger will let go a burst fire shooting three regular sized bullets, two small blasts of explosive energy, and a stream of many small pellets. The cock-back, however, is very rough with this thing and unbalanced me. Seeing what just one pull did though gives me hope about this thing but's that not all.

There is another variation of gun I've managed to summon with this thing that is some kind of automatic looking thing. Unlike the rest, this had a defined weight to it, at about fifty pounds. This was kinda surprising to me at first because nothing else so far, besides I guess the recoil from the previous guns, weighted anything. This did make kind of warry of the power this gun with release.

and those seem to be an automatic rifle (I'm not sure of build), and some kind of heavy anti-artillery launcher. Both of these weapons had noticeable weight. So far, these are the only things that have caused any form of strain against me. This wasn't light strain either. The automatic weapon weighted at least a good fifty pounds and the HAAL was around seventy or eighty. While it wasn't anything I couldn't lift, they weren't exactly something I can move with.

Now on to how the auto worked. I positioned my hands as if I was holding a rifle with my right hand out hold the foregrip with my left hand for the grip. The stock was one of the first things to form with my left-hand wrist diagram quickly creating. With light adjusting, I pocketed it into my shoulder. Its body was created with both palm digarmas meeting together. On its sides, crystalline metal strips that covered an energy core with streams of energy spinning around it seemed to be breathing. The three strips would lightly move closer to the body, coming together like a single strip only to move outward and extend out like wings.  

Two great crystals were locked at the top and bottom of the body running the length of the gun. The barrel of the gun was an assort of interlocked metallic pieces that, as soon as the gun began charging would transform. Three great plates in triangular coordination get to pull up, back, then lock. Then, where the new spaces are left by the out pulling parts, the in-between parts separate and form an energy loop spinning violently. The breathing wings and now forever out as mist pours from the core.

The two crystal at the top and bottom are then pulled in and judging from the horrendous sound shattered and ground. Two extensions similar to what was on the two hand handgun formation unlocked. I took in a deep breath, balanced myself, and fired. The two extensions at the very end of the barrel began spinning violently. Great blasts of plasma quickly expanding as the ground crystals were fired by extensions. I tried taking my finger from the trigger to give the gun a rest but the strength it was pushing at my body my jerking kept hitting the trigger making it go off for a few more shots.

To stop I had to relinquish the form. As the gun dissipated and the diagrams went around my hands a hellish pulse of energy surged through my body. It felt like I was being burnt alive. Molten iron pulsing through my veins. The pain made me collapse on to the path. Slowly my body cooled off but it may be a few minutes for it to end. I was trembling uncontrollably after that and I never wanted to experience that again. It was far worse than what the Red Man did to me before I blacked out. I can only guess the heat of the gun was transferred into my body showing the first cost of using these weapons.