#but i made a deal with myself to never draw his face uncovered

[thvnderdraws]

Please draw Dust but actually showing his face?? Only if you want to of course!!

sorry, hes a little shy !!! maybe next time !!

[chudleycanonficfest]

Dancing

Day 32 Post 1 by @honouraryweasley12

Title: Dancing Author/Artist: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: Masquerade Ball/Special Event Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Smut, Language

The knock on her office door interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She'd been hunched over for several hours since lunch, studying the tiny, almost illegible text of an ancient book about Centaurs.

"Come in!"

The door creaked open and Ginny strode into the small, cramped office, waving a piece of parchment. She tossed it onto the desk, covering the page. Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Just thought I'd pop in. Are you and Ron going to this thing next week?"

She had read the invite to the Ministry event the night before, amidst a flurry of complaints from Ron.

"Yes, it's mandatory."

"Did you see the date?"

"I know, the first of March. Ron was not thrilled that we'd have to postpone his birthday celebrations."

"I can imagine." Ginny smirked, before waggling her eyebrows. "Did you have anything special planned?"

"What we do in the privacy of our bedroom—"

"Who said anything about the bedroom?" Ginny asked innocently, trying to get a rise out of her friend.

Hermione wagged a warning finger. "I know you, Ginny Weasley." She frowned. "It would be nice to do something for him on the day; he was so disappointed."

"At least it's in a nice place," Ginny remarked, referring to the estate where the event was being held. "The food will be good—that alone should please my brother."

"That's true," Hermione remarked glumly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, but I know his birthday is important to him."

"What's the big deal? He's turning twenty-three. It's not exactly a milestone."

"I know, I know. He told me once that growing up, his birthday was the only day when he felt like he was the centre of attention, so I like to make an extra special effort."

Ginny nodded. "He's not wrong, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her head from side to side, a cracking sound from her stiff neck echoing around her office.

"Looks like he's not the only one who needs some pampering."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm used to it."

"You should do something nice for yourself. Even I know you're working yourself too hard."

"Like what?"

Ginny pondered for a moment, before bouncing up in her seat. "I have an idea."

Hermione looked at her wearily. "What is it?"

The redhead nodded toward the invitation on her desk. "Did you see the part about muggle clothing being encouraged? What are you planning on wearing?"

"I don't know. I guess a gown. Maybe the one I wore to Percy's wedding last fall."

"You always wear things my mother would approve of. You're still young! How about something fun and sexy?"

Hermione scoffed. "I've seen some of the things you wear, Ginny."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with what I wear?"

"You show a lot of… skin. Which is completely fine, but you don't work with these people."

"C'mon, live a little. I know my brother would still be mad about you if you were wearing a potato sack, but just imagine his reaction if you wear something a bit different."

"I don't know…"

"I promise, I won't go too crazy. It's Ron's birthday after all, wouldn't he enjoy seeing you in something less… proper?"

Hermione sighed, her willpower slipping away. "Yes, he would."

"Harry and Ron will be away this weekend taking new recruits into the field, so it's the perfect opportunity to go shopping." Ginny stood up and grabbed her invitation, before making her way to the door. "I'll meet you at yours at noon on Saturday."

"I don't see how this is treating myself."

"We'll stop at a bookshop then." The determined look on her friend's face was enough for Hermione to throw her hands up in the air.

"Fine!"

"That's the spirit." Ginny flashed her a cheeky grin and closed the door behind her.

"Weasleys," Hermione muttered to herself, before returning to her book.

~*~

Hermione stepped out of the ornate fireplace, her magically-extended clutch in hand. Ginny followed closely behind her, the two stopping to admire the tastefully decorated ballroom of the old estate house.

The brunette witch glanced around, hoping to see the familiar red hair of her love bobbing above the crowd, but was unable to spot him. She glanced at the thin silver watch on her wrist, a gift from Ron when she graduated from Hogwarts.

Ginny thrust a flute of champagne into Hermione's hand. "Will you relax? They'll be here soon. You know they have their Friday evening briefing first. Harry told me they were going to shower and change at the Ministry, then come straight here."

"I'm just nervous, that's all," Hermione replied as she nodded hello to a member of the Wizengamot who passed by, before taking a gulp of the fizzy sweet drink.

"You look great! Ron is going to go mental when he sees you."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, referring to the outfit she'd purchased with Ginny's help before downing the rest of her glass.

The result of their shopping excursion was a shimmery silver cocktail dress that hugged her curves and stopped mid-thigh. The two thin straps holding up the garment revealed her uncovered back and shoulders. All of this was set off with a pair of black heels. Her normally bushy hair tumbled down in soft waves, aided by half-a-bottle of Sleekeazy's.

Ginny nodded. "Absolutely."

A slight murmur behind them signified the arrival of one Harry Potter, his presence causing the usual stir, even years after the end of the war. He shook a few hands as he made his way over to the two of them, kissing Ginny and giving a hug to his friend.

"Wow, you look great, Hermione! I heard all about the new outfit."

"Thank you, Harry." She glanced over his shoulders, searching. "Where's Ron?"

He chuckled. "He's on his way, should be here any second."

Hermione held her breath as she spotted ginger hair towering above the crowd. She put a hand in the air and waved him over.

Ron fought his way through the guests that were starting to amass, making a beeline in their direction. Just as he was about to reach them, Ginny winked at Hermione and jumped into his path, wrapping him up in a hug and drawing his attention.

"Happy birthday, Ron!"

He patted her on the back. "Thanks, Gin."

Before letting go of the embrace, she whispered. "The dress was my present."

"What dress?" he asked as she angled him toward Harry and Hermione.

Ron's jaw dropped as he took in the outfit Hermione was wearing. She blushed at his hungry gaze, as she herself gawked at how fit he looked in his suit.

"Hey, Ron."

Harry's greeting went completely unnoticed as Ron stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. He pulled her against him, his hand splayed across the bare skin of her back.

"You look fucking hot," he growled into her ear, causing her to shiver.

She ran her own hand up and down the back of his dark suit jacket, relishing how solid he felt. "So do you."

He teased her ear, hidden by her hair. "We'd better get on with it. The sooner we're done mingling, the sooner we can get out of here and… celebrate my birthday."

She nodded as he pulled away, her face flush. As he turned to speak to Harry, another server passed by and she grabbed drinks for the two of them, needing to calm herself down. His reaction had far exceeded her expectations.

She caught Ginny's eye, the look on her face clearing stating I told you so. Hermione shrugged and grinned, before passing Ron his glass.

The night went on as they moved from dignitary to dignitary. Every so often, she'd catch him staring down at her, his desire clear. She didn't shy away though, challenging his gaze and communicating her own wants.

The teasing went on as they mingled, her hand reaching up to play with the red locks at the back of his neck. Hermione knew Ron loved it when she did that, causing him to give her a subtle squeeze as he laughed at the joke of some minister she wasn't familiar with.

His arm had been around her waist the whole time, almost possessively. As the minister turned away, she shuddered as he ran his hand up and down her side, his feather light touch just grazing the side of her breast.

"Want to dance?"

She nodded and downed her drink, dropping the empty glass on a nearby table before he led them out to the dance floor. She smoothly slid her small clutch into his jacket pocket, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

His strong arms encircled her waist, his thumb teasing patterns across her skin. "Have I told you how much I like it when you wear stuff like this?"

Hermione grinned. "No, you haven't told me, at least not with words."

Ron smiled, his hungry look returning as one of his hands dipped lower, brushing her backside as they turned in slow circles—ignoring the music but enjoying the game. He closed the distance and pressed a kiss to her lips, dragging his teeth across her bottom lip, leaving her aching for more.

He buried his face her neck, inhaling her scent before whispering in her ear. "Want to find somewhere quiet?"

The combination of his hot breath, his arms around her, and the loosening of her inhibitions from the alcohol brought on a sense of recklessness. They had been dancing around it all night. He wanted her, and she wanted him just as much.

"Yes."

They stole away from the crowded ballroom, their hands clasped together as need drove them to find some privacy. They checked a few doors in the massive estate until they found a small parlour. Ron whipped out his wand and fired off protections.

Their lips crashed together in a matter of seconds, frantic with the desire that had been building up all evening. Ron lifted her up, mimicking their first kiss, and walked her to the far end of the room. He set her down and turned her around, breaking their heated kiss. Pinning her against a wall with his firm body, he pushed aside her hair, his mouth finding that spot on the back of her neck that he knew so well.

"Oh, yes!"

He continued downward, kissing and tasting her naked back, causing her to gasp, her ragged breathing the loudest sound in the room.

"You look so fucking sexy in this," he said, before sliding his hand up her thigh and underneath her dress.

"Yes, touch me. I want to feel your hands on me."

His large hand palmed her between her legs, causing her to moan even louder. "Fuck, I love that sound."

"More," she cried out, grinding against his fingers. She loved the feeling of him taking control and pleasuring her.

His other hand snaked up to the front of her dress, reaching for her covered breast. Having his amazing attention in two different places was sending shockwaves to her core.

She mewled as he increased the pressure, his actions becoming rougher and more primal. She loved it but wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel what she did to him.

"Are you hard for me?"

"Check for yourself," he grunted, letting go of her and turning her to face him.

He kissed her hard, his hands cupping her face as she stroked his obvious arousal through his tailored suit pants. He moaned in her mouth from the contact. She in turn threw her head back as he trailed his lips to her cheek, then down to her neck, sucking and biting. They were ravenous for each other.

Her hand flew into his hair, jerking at the ginger strands as she pleaded for more. "Ron, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, quickly!" she begged, her words brazen in the elegant room. Her hand went to his zipper and tugged it down, before slipping into the opening and wanking him forcefully.

"Shit, Hermione."

"Now, Ron, please! Take me from behind!"

In one quick motion, he spun her around again and pulled roughly at her hips. He bunched the dress around her waist, exposing her delectable bum. The smack of his hand across her arse cheek echoed, leaving a pink mark on her flesh and causing Hermione to groan and push herself toward him in overheated desperation.

"Yes, more!"

He slapped her other cheek this time, eliciting another strangled groan. Her wanton reactions were too much for him as he yanked aside her soaked knickers and guided himself into her.

She moaned loudly as he entered, her cries shrill as he filled her completely.

"Yes, feels so good!"

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust slowly at first, his grunts increasing in time with his efforts.

"Fucking take it, Hermione."

She called over her shoulder, her fingers clawing at the wall in ecstasy. "Harder, Ron! I've wanted this all night! Wanted you all night!"

He continued his pace, his groans mingling with her own. Half-leaning against the wall now, she found her most sensitive spot and began rubbing furious circles, urgently needing to get off.

"Love it when you play with your yourself," he panted as he thrust into her. "You gonna come on my cock as I fuck you?"

She nodded, his raw dirty words and relentless pounding spurring her on. Her lips were pressed into a thin firm line as she felt herself reaching her peak, crying out his name. That was enough to set him off as well, as he throbbed and spilled inside of her, burying his face in her hair as he fought to catch his breath.

She sagged against the wall, his delicious weight pressing against her as her chest heaved. After a moment, she turned to face him, seeking out his lips as they shared a lazy kiss, the taste of alcohol prevalent. They broke apart, and as they stared at each other, Hermione couldn't help but flash him a big smile.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" His deep voice rumbled.

"Mmmm, very much so. I take it you liked the dress."

He grinned. "I think that's an understatement."

They quickly cleaned themselves up and got their clothing straightened out. The effects of the champagne were still working on Hermione as she leered at him in his suit and licked her lips.

"Shall we finish our rounds and then go home? It might be your birthday, but I have one big candle to blow."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hello omg, can I request Sasha with a warrior S/O? Like reader came with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt on their mission and during Reiner and Bertholdt’s reveal, she reveals herself too? UAUAUA it can be angst or whatever you prefer 🥺❤️

I gave the reader the Warhammer titan btw cause it’s my favorite akdkakfkd

Also, it’s a little long, but that’s just ‘cause I wrote out the whole warrior reveal in word form, and it’s longer than I remember lol

With You

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, slightly divergent

Warnings: Gore/graphic description of injury, season 3 spoilers, slight season 4 spoilers

Genre: Angst

Summary: Following the battle at Utgard castle, Reiner stops to have a chat with Eren, and reveals that he, Bertholdt, and Sasha’s s/o are all titan shifters, right in front of Sasha.

Words: 3.9K

-------

You had no time to process what had happened. Ymir was a titan, Christa was Historia, and Zeke has finally made his appearance.

You sighed and leaned against the rope tethers of the pulley system, regaining your bearings on the platform as you were pulled up and over the wall. The battle of Utgard castle had been tough—and many secrets were uncovered.

So, Ymir was the titan that ate Marcel all those years ago... You recounted in your head, sighing as you held your face in your palms. And now Zeke is here. We must’ve been too long without any sign of progress. We’re in big trouble. If we get back without Annie and Eren, it’ll be all over for us. Magath is gonna—

“Y/n!” A cheery voice brought you out of your slump, and you looked over your shoulder to see Sasha standing behind you, an arm outstretched as an offering of help.

You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, and you slowly rose from your spot on the makeshift elevator, taking her hand and pulling yourself up onto the wall. “Thanks, Sasha.”

As soon as you stood up straight, Sasha lunged at you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, lifting her feet off of the ground as you leaned all of her body weight onto you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay...! I was so worried!” She buried her face in your neck as she spoke, and you wrapped your arms around her lower back, putting your hands on her butt as support so she could wrap her legs around your waist.

You giggled at her, cuddling closer into her embrace. “I’m alright, I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know, but I heard that you and your squad got held up at Utgard castle overnight in the middle of a titan horde, and when we finally got there and saw the tower collapsed, I was so scared! I... I—!” She cried into your neck as you moved a hand to rub small circles on her back.

“I know, I know, but we’re okay now. We had a bit of...” You glanced to the left. Ymir lay unconscious and steaming in the stretcher, a distressed Historia leaning over her and brushing strands of brown locks out of her face. “Unexpected help.”

“Mhm...” She mumbled, leaning into you for support. You stayed like this in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after so long of being separated.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A loud shout caught your attention, and both you and Sasha turned to the source; Connie. “Save that stuff for the dorms! We still have stuff to do!”

“Right...” Sasha muttered, climbing off of you and running towards Connie, helping him haul terrified soldiers over the wall.

You stared in admiration for only a brief moment before your attention turned to your comrades, Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner’s arm was wrapped up in the torn cloth of Historia’s skirt, and Bertholdt was close by, the two of them standing in a solemn, heavy silence.

You approached them quietly, taking a seat next to Reiner. Neither of you said anything. The sudden appearance of the beast titan, or rather, Zeke, had shaken you all. You had been gone for years, and gave no sign of retrieving the Founding Titan. Not only that, but you had lost Marcel and Annie. No matter what, the situation wasn’t going to end smoothly for you three.

To the right, many of the Scouts had gathered around a blonde Garrison soldier. Hannes—his name popped into your mind, as Eren had mentioned him before, while in the 104th. He seemed to be disclosing something to the others, and they looked on with mixed expressions.

“Do you think this has something to do with Zeke?” You questioned. Reiner kept his face buried in his palm, and Bertholdt turned to you with a sigh.

“Most likely.” The tall man answered. “I mean, we saw him. He’s clearly here. He must be doing something with his spinal fluid. Speeding up the process, perhaps.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anxiety, eyes wide. “We’re in deep shit.”

You didn’t respond to him verbally, offering only a huff in solemn agreement.

The group of soldiers disbanded, though many branched of into separate conversations of worry, wonder, and resentment. As they walked off, Reiner stood up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground.

“Eren.” He called out, drawing the attention of the shorter man. “We should talk. You got a moment?”

“Sure, I guess.” He sighed, walking over. You and Bertholdt shared confused and concerned looks. The two of you had long noticed that Reiner had gone a bit off the deep end since arriving at Paradis, so you were wary of what he might say or do next.

“Five years ago, we compromised Wall Maria and launched an attack on humanity.” He spoke, turning his back to Eren, hanging his head in defeat. You looked at Bertholdt, and he mirrored your emotion. Panic.

“I’m the Armored Titan. He’s the Colossal.” He pointed his thumb in your direction when he spoke. “And she’s the Warhammer.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you telling him?” Bertholdt chocked out quietly.

“Reiner!” You whispered sharply, venom dripping from your tone. The three of you had done such a careful job keeping your identities secret from the others, and Reiner just spilled all of it. There was no going back from this.

“We were on a mission.” He continued.

“Stop!” Bertholdt pleaded, but Reiner didn’t waver.

“Our goal was to ensure mankind’s extinction. But now, there’s no need for that. Eren,” He turned to face the shocked and confused boy to his side. “If you want the walls to remain standing, it’s simple. Just come with Bertholdt, Y/n, and me. Do you understand?”

A good look to your left proved that he did not, in fact, understand.

“Understand? What the hell is there to understand?!” He shouted, drawing the attention of a few soldiers. Mikasa stood protectively a short distance away, and Sasha, with her impeccable hearing, turned to face the scene as well. The two of you made eye contact, and your distress must have been evident even at such a distance, because her eyes widened, and she started to make her way over with concern and confusion.

“Listen to me.” To your and Bertholdt’s horror, Reiner kept speaking. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Look, I know this is sudden, but we have to go.”

“Right now?” He exclaimed. “Where would you take me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Internally, you started to collect yourself. This wasn’t ending quietly. Bloodshed was dreadfully immanent. “Just think of it as our hometown.” Your eyes widened. He’s just gonna ask Eren? You thought, astounded. After all this, he really thinks Eren is just gonna follow us? What is he thinking?!

“Okay? So what’s it gonna be? Not a bad deal, right? The chance to avert a major crisis?”

“I’m not so sure...” He muttered. You were surprised he didn’t have a stronger reaction, especially for someone as fiery as him. Perhaps he was still in shock, or denial. Either way, they were teetering on the edge of battle, even if you and Bertholdt were the only ones to sense it.

“You guys!” Armin shouted, waving to capture the attention of you, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren. “Get a move on, we’re heading out!” Despite that, Sasha pushed right past him, closing in to the conversation, standing still now that she was in earshot. Mikasa was to her left, watching Eren with a dangerously protection glare.

Eren closed his eyes, taking in a deep sigh. It felt as if, for a moment, the world stood still. Damn it, he thought, I didn’t want to believe it...

A distant memory flashed through his head. When Annie had been found out, they had discussed the possibility of Reiner, Bertholdt, and Y/n also being shifters, but they didn’t have proof. Was it really so simple, though?

He opened his eyes and placed a firm hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re just tired. That’s it, right? Help me out here Bertholdt, Y/n. Your nerves are shot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“U-Uh, yeah.” Bertholdt fumbled. “It’s the battle fatigue talking!”

“Yeah!” You reaffirmed, luckily being able to exude more confidence than Bertholdt. “You’re just tired. After everything that just happened, I can’t blame you.” You laughed nervously, praying no one saw through your bluff.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Between your bluff, and his shock, Eren took the bait. “If you really were the Armored Titan, what’s the endgame here? We wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. What’d you expect me to do? Say yes? Let myself be kidnapped just ‘cause you asked politely?” Somehow, you found yourself agreeing with Eren on that last one.

Despite Eren’s nonchalant response, a dead silence overtook the air, and Sasha found it as her cue to step forward.

“Y/n? What’s going on here?” She placed a hand on your shoulder, but as soon as she did, you looked back. She gasped at the sight. You looked petrified.

“Right. Not thinking straight, am I?” He finally gave up his ploy, wide-eyed and sweating bullets. “Barely know what I’m saying here. Must’ve gone off the deep end.”

Eren turned his back to the three of you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Deafening silence and still air ensued. You did not move. The clouds cleared, and rays of sun shone down on the stone beneath your feet.

“That’s the problem.” Reiner shook. He chuckled, and shadows covered his face. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’ve been here too long for my own good. Three years of this madness, surrounded by idiots. We were kids. What’d we know about anything?”

You couldn’t help but agree with Reiner on that one. You didn’t want to become a warrior, none of you did. If you knew the atrocities you had to commit in order to have the essence of a warrior, the idea would’ve never crossed your mind.

“Why did there have to be people like this.” He choked, tears pricking his eyes and mouth spread into a wide, ugly frown. “Why? Why did I let myself devolve into such a half-assed piece of shit?”

“It’s too late now.” He lifted his arm out of the cast makeshift cast, and held his arm up, showing the red and bloody bite mark. “Damned if I know what’s right anymore! Who cares? It is what it is. No choice but to face what I’ve done! As a warrior.”

His arm steamed, and shortly after, the skin closed up, blood drying and appearing as if he’d never been injured from the get-go.

“No road left but the one that leads to the end!” He screamed. Eren’s eyes widened as he gasped. He finally understood.

“Reiner! Right now? Here?” Bertholdt yelled back, prepared for anything, despite the beads of sweat that rolled down his face.

“We’re really doing this?!” You echoed, and Sasha looked on with a horrified expression.

“Yes. Right here, right now!” He commanded, marching towards Eren. “We settle this once and for all!”

Mikasa appeared out of nothing in a fraction of second, blades drawn and mind set on murder. She swung her blade at Reiner, who put up his hand defensively as the blade split his hand in half from his fingers all the way to his wrist. She spun around in an instant, and her blade cleanly slashed right across Bertholdt’s neck, who fell to the ground screaming and holding his throat.

He eyes were set on you, and an underhanded swing of her blade slashed a line right across your face. Blood immediately clouded your vision, and you groaned in pain as you were sure you had lost an eye.

She charged at you, determined to finish the job, but her sprint was interrupted by Sasha, who tackled Mikasa at full force, and the sword tumbled out of her grasp as Sasha pinned her down.

“Sasha!” She struggled. “Sasha, move! What are you doing?!” She tried to get up, but Sasha managed to overpower her momentarily, keeping her firmly on the ground.

“MIKASA STOP! PLEASE!” She pleaded at the top of her lungs. Rationally, she knew you were the enemy now, but she’d be damned if she let you die here, after everything the two of you had been through.

“Sasha, you can’t—!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She screamed. “YOU AREN’T GONNA HURT HER!”

Mikasa took quick advantage of Sasha’s emotional state and hurled her off, and she tumbled into a heap a few feet away. With little hesitation, Mikasa reequipped her blades.

But it was too late.

“Bertholdt! Y/n!” Reiner barked, lighting already manifesting around him.

The two of you looked at each other with horrified understanding, and prepared your own transformations.

Sparks of electricity surrounded you, and panic filled adrenaline exploded into flesh. Limbs shot out around you, plus the familiar hardened skin of the Armored, the skinless muscle of the Colossal, and the cloudy white body of your own titan.

Seconds passed, albeit one’s that felt like centuries, and you finally opened your eyes. You stood tall on top of the wall; 15 meters high. To your right, Reiner. And behind him was Bertholdt. Only half formed due to the space, and his lower body ceased to exist. Ribs shot out and dug into the stone, and powerful gusts of steam shot off of his body.

The terrified pawns on the wall stared up at you, mouths agape. But the shock didn’t last long.

The hurricane of steam that came off of Bertholdt started to throw things around, and those who didn’t make quick use of their ODM gear were sent flying. One of those figures, Eren, was quickly swept up by Reiner in the chaos.

It was no use, though. That’s why you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he bit his hand and sparks flew, his transformation queued by a guttural scream of rage.

“Damn you... YOU TRAITORS!”

The Attack Titan formed in Reiner’s hand, fist already drawn back and preparing a strike to Reiner.

In a fraction of a second, you formed a large hammer—your namesake weapon—from hardened titan skin, raising it into the air with a passionate battle cry.

The hammer struck Eren in his flank, and he flew abruptly to the left. You shot Reiner a look, and he looked down in understanding, drawing his arms back in preparation for a charge.

Eren had stood up by the time Reiner had started his charge, and immediately braced for impact—he didn’t have the time to move.

Reiner collided with Eren, and knocked him to the ground effortlessly, his greater size and weight being of good use.

The two wrestled on the ground, and you hesitated to intervene. After all, your weapon was powerful, but imprecise. You couldn’t risk accidentally hitting Reiner. Instead, you turned around, assessing the situation on the wall, where Bertholdt had been unceremoniously shackled.

It seemed no one was brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to approach the colossal in it’s torrid state, and you didn’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful.

But, out of the corner of your eye, a figure swung. Your eyes widened slightly in amusement as ODM gear shot from tree to tree, approaching you at in impressive speed. Hmph. Guess someone is stupid enough after all. You thought.

You were about to swipe them away without a second thought, but you faltered at the sight of auburn brown hair, loosely tied into a familiar ponytail.

You must’ve gotten a little distracted by the sight, because you were suddenly brought back to attention by the figure landing on your shoulder, the hooks of their ODM gear digging into your shoulder, which you assumed were used as leverage mere seconds ago.

You turned your massive head to look at it, and you saw the figure gasp and tremble at the sight. Sometimes, you forgot how terrifying your titan was. But you perked up for a moment, brought out of your violent trance by a familiar face.

“Y/N!” It was Sasha. “Y/n, what is going on here?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, and it came out in a gravely, deep tone because of your titan form. “Sasha...?”

She released the grapples of her ODM to run up and hug your neck—the best she could, that is, with your immense size.

“Y/n! Come on! Why didn’t you tell me! This... this isn’t you... tell me there’s a reason!!!” She screamed.

Turning back to observe Eren and Reiner’s struggle, you sighed internally. It was just like her to get too emotional in a situation like this.

You turned back to Sasha with a sad look in your eyes. Carefully, you brought your hand up to pinch the hood of her Scout jacket, lifting her and placing her back down on top of the wall.

Slowly, you crouched down to her level, meeting her eye to eye despite the pain it caused you to see the heartbroken look in her eyes. Your hand curled around her back to support her, the only kind of pseudo-hug you could give at the moment. Your thumb gently made its way to the top of her head, and you moved it down slowly to caress her head. Tears streamed down her face, the internal conflict being far too much for her to bear.

But a sudden mass to your lower back brought you out of your intimate moment with her. Pain shot up through your body as you felt your back collide with the ground, and your eyes opened in horror. Eren had somehow managed to best Reiner in their scrimmage—and he was after you now.

You started to form the base of your hammer in your hands once again, but a forceful punch to your jaw stopped it’s formation out of the shock and pain.

Another fist made it’s way to your face—and another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear noises. Roaring, growling, and, the loudest of them all, screaming. Though, in your state, you couldn’t discern if it was even you or not.

Eren delivered his last punch with a frightening roar of passion, and your neck twisted at an unnatural angle as your head snapped off the titan body with a horrid, bone-grinding sound.

Your battered body fell out of the nape of the titan, using what was left of your strength to emerge at the last second. It was all you had in you, though, and the last thing you heard was your own heavy breathing and distant shouting as your vision started to vade.

Eren stood up tall, towering over your unconscious body, raising his fists in the air with a triumphant roar of victory, the cheers of soldiers filling the air.

Filled with adrenaline and ego, he picked up your limp body in his hand, dangling your body over his already opened mouth.

He was going to eat the Warhammer—right here, right now.

That is, until a foreboding cracking noise brought his attention away from you. It took a few seconds for him to locate the source. The Colossal Titan.

It’s bones snapped and ground against one another, it’s massive body slowly shifting like a collapsing skyscraper. It twisted, turned, and groaned until it slowly lost it’s iron grip on the wall—and it was heading straight for Eren.

It’s body collided with Eren, and the force of the impact was comparable to that of an earthquake. Smoke rose from the ground as dirt was upended, trees crackling and snapping as chunks of rock flew up and around from the impact area.

The force of the impact sent you flying through the air. It didn’t take any hesitation, though, for your girlfriend to go flying through the air, catching your bloody body in her arms and wrapping herself around you to keep you safe as she hit the ground and slid against the dirt.

She groaned audibly from the pain, gritting her teeth in a feeble attempt to numb the painful sensations. But, her pain suddenly subsided when she laid eyes on you.

Your lower half had been all but obliterated. Your legs were completely crushed and squeezed out like an old container of toothpaste, and blood gushed from your stomach. She tried in vain to ignore the sight of your snapped bones twisting at odd angles and protruding through your skin.

Panicked, she brought an ear to your chest, desperately searching for that steady rhythm of life beating in your chest.

She had never taken a deeper sigh of relief than she did now, overjoyed at the slow heartbeat you clung onto. It was weak, yes, but you were still here. With her. That’s all that mattered.

Steam slowly rose from your stomach as your body attempted to heal your wounds. Even in a situation like this, your body managed to find the strength to start recovering.

She cradled your body to her chest, sobbing out in both relief and distress as you bled out onto her. Her clothes were already stained red, and her hands were sticky with morbid crimson, but she didn’t care. She held you close, as close as you could possibly be without her physically crushing you, catching her breath and calming herself to the sound of your shallow breaths.

It was a short-lived moment, though, as a dark shadow suddenly covered the ground, and Sasha froze with fear with you in her arms. By the shadow alone, it was impossible to tell if it was Eren or Reiner, and she didn’t want to check. She curled around you, crying quietly in preparation of getting crushed.

But it didn’t happen. A large finger instead placed itself on Sasha’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way to observe your injured state. Her body trembled fearfully as she turned to face it, and was met with the Armored Titan.

She wasn’t sure what to expect next, really. It could’ve crushed her like an ant and ran away with you, or worse, separated her and run off with just you.

She didn’t want to be apart from you. Even if it made her a terrible soldier, even if it made her treasonous, dishonorable, and irredeemable, she would stick with you, no matter whose side you were on. Right or wrong, she was staying with you.

Reiner hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just bring a Paradis soldier back, it would be a huge problem down the line. But, his eyes glanced to you. He was certain that if he left Sasha there without you, you would never have forgiven him.

So, he cut his losses and gently scooped the two of you up in his hand, holding you and her close to his chest as he started running—god knows where to. She caught a glimpse of a Bertholdt in his other hand, as well as Ymir, still unconscious and strapped to her stretcher.

And Eren. Somehow, Reiner had the severely injured and incapacitated shifter quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Sasha knew that once people slowly started waking up, the fighting would only continue, but she savored this moment. Even if you were bleeding and hurt, your face looked peaceful. As odd as it sounded, she felt content with you in this moment.

As Reiner ran further and further from the wall, Sasha glanced over his shoulder, watching as the faces of her former comrades as they faded into the background.

I wish somebody cared for me the way Sasha cares about Y/n in this fic lmaooo

[marshmallowprotection]

Birthday Title Screen

Saeran’s title screen underneath the cut alongside my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Under the cut simply because if you don’t want to see it, you can go and wait until it’s officially released by Cheritz in your time zone. Anyways, we know why we’re here.

It’s that time again and boy, aren’t we happy to be able to talk about it? Now, this title was advertised as Unknown so I expected Unknown. I didn’t expect my boy Suit Saeran to be on the title. The game tends to imply that Unknown is the just Suit Saeran, and vice versa, but I don’t agree with that notion but I’ve explained that one many times before but the game never confirms outright one way or the other so, you know how that goes. 

I’ll spare you that, I’ve got plenty of posts talking about that opinion for you to find if you want, lol. 

Either way, this is the first time that Suit Saeran’s gotten the pointed limelight like this. He’s usually meant to surprise the player because they may not see him in their minds as their trying to uncover the mystery and everything. But, we’ve got to say, Cheritz has thrown all spoiler fears out of the window. I mean, they just plastered Seven’s true name on a boat. 

I laughed about that but I digress, you’re here for the photo and you want to see me shriek like a banshee.

So, yeah, let’s just our obligatory scream out of the way presently. When I saw this one, I could think was: Oh my God, it’s BE2. The only reason my brain just decided BE2 was because of the framing of all the presents. In that ending, he gives you gifts, he gives you food, but “you’re not good enough to open them or touch them, toy.” He’ll give you all kinds of things but you know, you get what he wants when he decides. 

And crumbs, if you’re lucky on a good day, you know? 

That being said, it doesn’t have to be framed as BE2, but the presents and gifts just lead me to believe that this is the theme or the idea that it’s taking from to show the audience because what else am I going to be thinking when you’ve gone and thrust that idea into my face like that? Mmm, and I’ve been talking about that ending a lot lately. 

Here’s that post if you want to read more about BE2. It’s a tragic ending that is bad for both Saeran and MC. He’s trying to get you back like Humpty Dumpty but he can’t put you back together again. He realized too little, too late, that he liked you the way that Ray did, that he genuinely liked you for you. He can’t say that aloud, so he... tries cruel ways to bring you back, but it will never work and he’s doomed to despair. 

No hope for Suit Saeran if the kindness heart can be destroyed in hell. It means it’s only natural that he lose everything. 

I appreciate that he’s sticking to his goth theme, though, that party hat is just red and black.

Suit Saeran’s very... minimalist in the sense that he just picks things that are truly intense and sharp. That’s why he wears a suit. That’s because it’s the thing that he knows that can radiate power. Business men are supposed to be strong and forthcoming with their ability, that’s why he leans that way. 

His father is like that, the idea of what power and monster is feeds into how he chooses to dress himself. 

That’s why he just says, “Suit time.” If anyone was curious about that, anyway, I never seen people talk about that. Ray was given his clothes by Rika, he never got a say in how he dressed. The boys always pick something dark because it’s going to match their mood... their mood is how they pick colors and clothes if given the ability. 

That’s why GE Saeran is bright and cottagecore. It reflects the positive shift in his thoughts and perspective on the world. But, with Suit Saeran, he’s trying to emulate what he’s scared of and what he thinks that power is and this is the only way he knows how and it hurts to think about when you frame it that way, I do know that. 

Is that meant to be a stamp and playbook? Did Suit Saeran really make a whole illustrated guide for his puppet show? Is he really making acts and stories for all of this? He had to make those puppets himself. We know that Saeran is creative and can make anything, but those things are clearly handmade, hand-painted, I have a strong feeling that he made those clothes himself, too... 

You know, I like to imagine him drawing his emojis before he comes to you because he wants to make a good impression, but he’s a very specific artist and he gets angry when he can’t get things right, so I’m really thinking about him being out here in his workroom, painting fine details with a determined look in his eyes like—

“This’ll show that toy. This’ll show them how powerful I am.” 

Suit Saeran, honey, this is a gift within itself, you are a dork and I love you so much, oh my God.

TLDR; Suit Saeran makes puppets and makes their own playbook like this is going to a musical or the opera. 

He actually brought you the exact outfit. This means that he either made you that outfit, or he got himself, and then he made a smaller version. 

I like to think he’s crafty with sewing so I pretend he does things like this, but honestly, if you’ve made it this far, are you also thinking about the fact that he made a doll versions of the both of you to show you something? 

Because I can’t stop thinking about that. He really said, “Look at this, I made us, toy!” Like, I wrote a whole imagine once where MC and GE Saeran made each other plush dolls of the other person to sleep with. He just went out here and made puppets simply because he wanted to put on a show. He made y’all and I’m gonna cry what a fucking dork.

This is canon.

My God, I’m canon. 

Once again, I’m out here living my best life and nobody’s going to stop me on that front. Saeran wants to impress you and astound you so badly that he does not even realize that the handmade things that he’s making actually would be something that flatter someone. 

Like, he could use those to patronize me and berate me for control, but—

I’d really be sitting there compliment his fine eye and craftsmanship. It’s just that great. 

“Wow, Saeran. You did this all by yourself? These details are so realistic and finely tuned. This must have taken you hours... no, days, it must have taken you days to paint everything and stitch all of this together, even the little fine details are perfect. You’re amazing! When did you have the time to learn all of this?” 

He would scoff, “Of course, I am, you blubbering toy! Don’t suck up to me and think that you’re going to be treated nicely. I won’t tell you anything about me. You don’t deserve that. I didn’t do this to impress you, I did this to show you what I want from you. Now, be a good little toy, sit there, and do as I ask. I won’t repeat myself.” 

I find it interesting that he framed himself in the Savior’s seat here. Is that just a tie back to BE3, or is it simply his power play? I think it’s a comment on the fact that he struggles to know how much power that he truly has in his hands. That is to say, he says he’s the strongest, but the reality is, Rika is stronger then him and he bows his head to her. 

Even in his fantasy, she holds all of the cards and he has no choice but to bend.

But, with MC, he is trying to use them to control his idea of power... because it’s a fragile thing. It could break at any second. He screams and shouts all that he wants but he knows, deep down, he may be strong, but he’s not the strongest in this place. How could he be? That’s why Rika even says to you during those late hours—

“Mmm, you noticed? He’s using you to stabilize himself because otherwise, he would crumble. Thanks for your sacrifice to helping me win my goals. It wasn’t a pleasure knowing someone as bright as you, getting in my way and trying to turn them against me.” 

He only feels strong when something placates the idea in his chest. It hurts, even in his numb and confused heart, he’s hurting and he can’t figure out a way to get out of the dark labyrinth. Did he make the Mint Eye playhouse? Did he? I am saying he did. None of you are going to stop me. Saeran is a creative artist and I will not be contained any longer.

Cheritz confirmed. 

You’re a doll on a string in this for him. He wants to say that he bends and controls you to his whims, but... he’s also there. This isn’t just you being a toy, it’s Saeran realizing that he’s a toy, too. Why else would he make a doll of his person, then? This is about him not entirely getting it, though. He would make himself but not realize what he’s implying to know deep down, underneath all of his yelling.

When I saw him in the chair, I thought... this is him in relation to being the marionette king. That’s why they’re doing this, oh my God. It makes sense to frame the MC as a puppet or toy, they’re always “his eyes” and “his toy” and more and more and more. But, he’s also being played for a toy by Rika to get what she wants.

Who is really the puppet here?

Who is really on the strings? 

Look at that cocky bastard. Look at him. Look at him forever and deal with me screaming about him, oh my God. In conclusion, I’m having a lot of feelings at the moment presently and I think I’m going to go and lay back down because I am going to need a minute to unpack everything that I’m feeling and dealing with because Suit Saeran.

SUIT SAERAN!

[angst-and-stupidity]

😌 for Abi and/or Sakiko?

aaaa this is so nice, i loved writing this

Prompt: Comfort My Characters

Characters: Abilene (POV), Sakiko

---

“Hey, good morning,” Sakiko murmurs as she sits next to me on the floor, leaning her head on my shoulder. Her voice is gravely, it always is in the morning. I look up from my sketchbook and press my forehead against hers. “What are you drawing so early?”

“Oh, I’m designing my own tarot cards,” I lift up my sketchbook to show her. The one I’m working on, which is also the first one, is The Fool. I’ve already finished the border. “It’s going to be Green, from the Prithmia manga, since the Fool is typically told to be traveling through the cards.”

“I see, and I suspect there’s a theme with this deck?” Sakiko jests, tracing her delicate finger over the card’s outline. “I bet there’d be a market for it, since there’s such an overlap of Prithmia fans with witches.”

“You think so?” I hum, going back to my scribbles. “It’s just a rough draft, I’ll finish and color it on my computer.”

“You’re such a busybody,” she sighs with a smile, standing up and picking up her hairbrush. She started to pace and brush in a light, airy motion, as if the air beneath her bare feet felt called to carry her. “I don’t know where you find the time.”

“Well, I’ve been blessed with the ability to stay up for hours on end.” I sketch out the frame of Green’s head. Does his hair swoop to the left or the right? I can never seem to tell the difference. “And once you do things for long enough they get quicker.”

She sighs. “Maybe, but I still worry, I wish you’d take care of yourself.”

“Bunny, I promise I’m okay,” I give her a clever look. “座ってください (suwatte kudasai), please sit down.”

She tsks. “You’re Japanese is getting better, I didn’t expect you to use it against me. Do you mind?” She holds up her brush and gatherers a clump of my hair in her hands.

“No, I don’t, thank you. But I have no clue where this notion that I don’t take care of myself comes from. Does his hair look right, or does it swoop the other way?” I hold up my drawing pad. She starts to brush.

“It’s because you stayed up until 3 o’clock and are awake at 7 o’clock.”

“I think it goes the other way,” I mumble.

“It goes left.”

“Which way is left?” I blush.

“The way it is.”

“ありがとう (arigatou).”

“As long as you’re not pushing yourself too hard I guess it’s not a big deal,” Sakiko relents, running the brush smoothly so my hair didn’t tug against my scalp. I can’t stand when it does.

“What about you? You’re awake as well, and I doubt you’ve made yourself breakfast. Yet you’re already worried about me.” I turn to face her with a coy smile. She blushes at the accusation and hides her face behind the brush. I pull her into a hug. “We can make it together, I’d just like to finish this card first.”

“Okay.”

“I love it when you brush my hair.” I resume sketching, and Sakiko uncovers her face.

“Why?”

“You’re gentle, it’s just…nice.”

[bustin-a-hazelnut]

RAIN's ARC 4 Predictions - Part 2

So, here’s the second half of my theories on what awaits us in RAIN’s finale. I made sure to keep this one shorter & less detailed, because most of them are pretty vague & self-explanatory, and long paragraphs of this would simply be a drag to read through. No survival percentages either, as I don’t expect many casualties on the “team good” side.

Team RAIN

To start off, I fully expect our guys to win the day, eliminate the Braith threat & stay together as a team of young hunters, ready to face off against new challenges (but am not adverse to the idea of a final, that isn't a traditionally "happy ending").

Robin’s big struggle is bound to be facing & defeating Kamala.

Her fears of loosing more people could cause some disagreements (particularly with Marron), but I expect those to be resolved & for them to stay happily together.

Robin’s newly realized main motivation of being kind & doing good could very well drive her to reach out to some of the more “redeemable” Braiths & offer them a chance to give up on Kamala’s masterplan & start anew.

There’s gonna be more focus on Irving, now that his family is involved.

His & Nyssa’s “archnemesis” among the Braiths is Viola (much like Kamala is Robin’s), so it’s nice to see them face off against her.

Romance between the two of them will continue gradually developing (plz give me some precious lovebird moments ; _ ; )

Nyssa has a talk with her mom about Pitch ahead of her.

I don’t expect her to show any interest in seeing him again, though.

When it comes to Akane, I sorta draw a blank, but I fully expect her storyline to be heavily associated with William (I’m not holding out my hopes for a classic romance with a happily ever after, but the chemistry between the two is undeniable).

The Lincoln Clan

While on the subject of Willl, he’s the one I have quite a bad feeling about – the way I see it, he could very well become one of the arc’s casualties. Not many in-comic clues for this that I can think of, but his overall troubled personality, complicated bond with Akane, lack of positive connections to other characters – it just gives me this sense of danger looming over him (needless to say, I don’t want anything like this to occur, but a theory is a theory).

My precious daughter Lilliana is bound to finally open up about her struggles & get a fucking friend.

Seriously, I have very little idea of whom it’ll be or how it’ll happen, but it has to. I’ve waited since reading the first comic pages that featured her, & I believe I’m not about to be disappointed.

The only certain thing I know I am hyped about is her facing Artemis once she is rescued.

There is also her majorly unnoticed connection with Pitch, but I’ll leave that for his section of the post.

Tobin is probably about to come out any moment now, and I firmly believe, that when it comes to Braiths, her & Viorel will get a heart to heart, and she could very well get a proposition of a lifetime from them. Of course, they could be using it to manipulate her, and uncovering their plot/outsmarting them could be a chance for her to shine. I’m not sure how it’ll work in the plot technically, but these two interacting is too good an opportunity to pass up.

I expect Artemis to wake up from her coma – she needs to learn about Tobin, and also finally be confronted with Lilli's storm of emotions & realize how badly she’s fucked up with her girl (and, y’know, work on fixing it).

However, the damage she suffered will probably prevent her from fighting ever again.

I am not sure how, but Roderick will regain his courage & play his part in bringing the Braiths down. I won’t say he’ll survive for sure (the idea of Maylis as a lord seems to be favoured by some), but at the same time, killing many more members of Robin’s family feels like too much.

I’ll group Marron here, since she is basically Robin’s family at this point – it would be nice to see her gain more independence & not just stay “the love interest”. She embarked on that path already when she stood up to Sterling, and should definitely go further in that direction: take more initiative, express opinions, that don’t necessarily correlate well with Robin’s – altogether, be her own person more than just "main hero's girl".

The rest of them

The remaining free members of the Crazy Bunch (Bianca & Rufus iirc) will probably get tracked down – if Kamala can spare any manpower to silence them. It’s also possible for her to just forget about them, since they aren’t likely to confront officials about the Braith threat, and if her plan is successful, they’re going down with the rest of humanity regardless. I like the idea of them sharing the Braith money & just laying low & enjoying themselves offscreen, while the final battle breaks out.

Beyond learning more about him from Maera, Pitch isn’t likely to play a role in the plot again. I have very little hope for him making another appearance, but if that could possibly be, Lilliana has to be the reason it does (since Nyssa’s already had enough of that man for a lifetime).

I don’t think many people paid attention to it, but there was clearly some sort of semi-bond between Lilli & Pitch – probably due to them both being the clan’s outcasts. Even though he’s about to be dragged away, it’d be nice for her to seek him out & go absolutely apeshit into his face about betraying her family (and lowkey betraying her personally).

Though it’s unlikely, I would love to see more between these two – they’ve known each other for years, Pitch might as well have trained Lilli in combat, and it would be nice if he displayed any kind of emotion at realizing she fucking cared whether he’d be around or not.

“The Wishing Well” bar we’ve been teased for the first post is likely to be the place where Jin-Shi, Nyssa & Irv look for Raleigh.

I’m not sure how he’ll influence the plot surrounding Irving’s family & Viola, but once he learns what happened to Otso, I expect him to help our heroes track him down to get more info from him, consecutively causing them to stumble upon Tahlia & Gardner (as already stated, definite plot points aren’t my strongest suit, but this is how I believe they could all come together).

Please wrap my man Otso in a fucking blanket & let him have a heart to heart with Raleigh & regenerate his eyes in peace you people, I am fucking telling you-

I’ve left team JNPR for dessert, namely, because of Jin-Shi Pan – I don’t really have any guesses when it comes to Nanako, Petra or Isambard.

For now, she’ll likely busy herself helping Irving & Nyssa deal with Viola & her welcome party. But there’s a mystery regarding her, that’s been mentioned, but never elaborated upon – her lost friend, Ninety Nine, whom Nyssa promised to help in searching for.

In any other case, I’d say, we are being teased a dlc/spin-off of the main story. It might just be a part of her past, that isn’t going to come up again. But once again, I just have this hunch, that we weren’t told that for nothing. Perhaps a clue will be found somewhere down the line; perhaps some new character will surprise us with their connection to Jin. I don’t know, and this is admittedly the weakest theory on the list, but it’s here nonetheless.

And this is it for my arc 4 predictions. Gotta say, I’m proud of myself for meeting my deadline & finishing it before the first post of the arc. All of my thoughts on it have already been stated, so without further ado, I wish everyone a very exciting part of our beloved comic by @neopoliitan!

[darkmindsotome]

Losing The Lot

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss  

Pairing: Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 4,043

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen​ as requested. Prompt #7: Strip poker

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Losing The Lot

My laptop beeped ending the latest transmission from the EAC. I closed the device and slid it under the seat of the car that was currently winding its way through crosstown traffic in the rain to take me back to my apartment after successfully completing my latest mission.

I closed my eyes and rolled my neck, sinking into the cushioning of the backseat. I didn’t typically find all missions exhausting but being a spy was both physically and mentally demanding. I watched the streetlights blur against the rain on the window, happy to finally be able to relax.

My mind wandered wishing for nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and then curl up on the sofa with a big tub of Lady Borden ice cream and binge on Mission Impossible films. My phone vibrated next to me and when I saw the caller my heart jumped.

“Welcome back.” A voice I had missed hearing for the last few days spoke before I had even placed the phone near my ear properly.

“I won’t ask how you found out I was back in the country again.” I smiled. Despite how exasperated my words sounded I was seriously happy to hear the voice of the man I loved.

“Can’t a guy take an interest in his Girlfriend these days? Did you get me a souvenir?” Kazuomi sounded like an excited child. His energy and upbeat attitude brushed away the tension in my body.

“You wanted a souvenir? Kazuomi I was on a mission, not a vacation.” I playfully chastised him knowing full well any kind of reprimand from me would go unanswered as it usually did.

“So you didn’t get me anything at all?” I could practically see his pouting face even over the phone.

My wonderfully mischievous guy who worked harder than he showed to anyone. A man who was at the top of official lists as one of the world’s most wanted bad guys. Who was labelled a playboy the world over and covered in multiple gossip columns constantly never showed this kind of vulnerability to others. He was far from pristine white, his actions were always a little shady but I trusted him. I felt a warmth bloom in my chest as I thought about it.

“I didn’t say that.” I laughed our conversation was coming to an end as my car had stopped at the curb of my apartment and I knew I would lose reception for a few minutes as I entered the building. “I’ll bring it over to your place tomorrow.”

The door to the car opened and instead of seeing the driver, I saw my boyfriend.

“Why not just give it to me now?” He had a look on his face like he had just pulled off the biggest prank of his life and the smile could have made my knees buckle had I not already been sitting.

He was outlined by the lights behind him that were casting a shimmering aura over him. As if he needed to be painted in a sexier manner. This guy was a walking advert for sexual desires and just oozed appeal. A natural charmer I really would not be surprised to discover his friend's claims that celestial beings had fallen under his spell.

“What are you doing here!?”

“Is that any way to greet your man? Although I have to say you look good even when pulling that face.” He winked at me his brown hair was caught at the moment between lightly damp and becoming unstyled by the rain. A few droplets of water fell from the tips of it and ran down his neck finding the open collar of his shirt and vanishing beneath it.

“You!” I gave him a light slap as I got out of the car pretending not to notice that I was jealous of a raindrop. My eyes fell on a familiar vehicle and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you showed up in the limo.”

“I never go anywhere without it.” He shrugged as if this sort of thing was normal for everyone. If there was one thing he enjoyed it was opulence and dammit if he hadn’t provided a good show of it to the point where very little was able to still shock me. He bent over and grabbed my suitcase from inside the car, tapping the roof after he shut the door sending it on its way. “Come on let’s get inside before we both drown.”

He grabbed my wrist with his free hand pulling me towards my building. The warmth of his grip where his skin touched mine had me willingly follow him in a trance. I really was a hopeless case.

*

The door unlocked with a click that was lost against the sound of the downpour of water. We both walked in and Kazuomi put the suitcase he had pilfered from the car next to the kitchen counter. I closed the front door behind us only to find myself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms and my damp bare neck claimed in a rush of fiery kisses.

“Mhm, Kazuomi…” I purred as he chased away the chill on my body from the rain with his lips. I loved his kisses, I’d never met someone who kissed like him before.

“No one says my name like you do.” He returned my purr with one. Even as his lips travelled over my skin his hands began pawing and kneading at me through my damp clothes. The cold fabric clung to the flushed flesh under it. “How long are you planning on keeping me waiting?”

“Waiting? On what?” While is still had enough of my senses to talk back I did. This was our little game that fuelled the fire in both of us. An endless game of cat and mouse where neither of us was willing to simply give in.

“My souvenir of course.” He buried his head in the crook of my neck before drawing back to capture my ear lobe lightly between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. “But if you don’t have one… I guess I could claim you instead.”

Before he could latch on to me and make it impossible for me to move I spun around in his arms and placed a finger on his lips enjoying his reaction as he wondered what I was doing.

“As tempting as that is I do have something for you.”  I made sure to rub myself just a little against him as I pushed him back. There was no way I was going to make getting things all his way that easy for him, I never did.

“Oh?”

I moved past him and clipped open the suitcase searching for the gift I’d found for him. A rectangular box slipped out from under some of my clothes and I picked it up suddenly feeling a little nervous about giving the third richest guy in the world something so pathetic.

“I didn’t see anything that really got my attention but I found these and thought you would probably like them.”

“A deck of cards?” Kazuomi didn’t display any of the elitist reactions I imagined. Instead, he looks seriously amused and happy with his souvenir.

“Their special cards, here see?” I keep forgetting this guy can be so incredibly down to earth it naturally makes me smile as I pluck the box from his hands and crack it open to remove one of the cards.

After rubbing the image on the card the figure that was once dressed in fanciful clothes and opulent robes revealed more and more skin. The idea was the longer you played with the cards the more of their secrets the heat from your hands uncovered. I thought that concept alone was so incredibly Kazuomi I just had to get him a deck.

“Impressive.” His eyes light up at the new discovery reminding me of a kid watching a magic show for the first time.

“You like them?”

“My beloved brought me a gift of course I love them.” He held the cards in his hand and dragged me back to him with the other. It was such a smooth and fast movement I could feel my insides jolting at it. He bent down to whisper in my ear. “You really are a naughty girl though. To think you would get me a gift like this. I hope you’re ready for a game.”

His voice was intoxicating, neither of us moved our eyes remaining locked as the heat between us ignited our competitive natures.

*

The clean apartment had become a mess in a matter of a couple of hours. Items of clothing were dotted around like breadcrumbs trailing a path to us as we sat either end of my white corner sofa playing Texas hold ‘em.

After scrambling around in drawers and cupboards looking for something we could use in place of betting chips we found a bag of candy and split it 50/50.

Several hands later, most of the clothes on the floor were mine. I had played several card games in the past and I was confident enough to say I could put up a good fight. It was, however, just my luck that my charming boyfriend also had a reputation for never losing. This fun, kinky game was rapidly becoming my waterloo.

I was now left with only my shirt and underwear while Kazuomi was only missing his jacket and waistcoat. His brown eyes were paying way more attention to me than his own cards. It was really distracting and I kept fidgeting in place, willing my mind to focus on the cards and not the impossibly attractive man in front of me. How was he even winning when he wasn’t even paying attention anyway?

“You look like you have something to say.” He was still smirking after watching me lose my skirt. I made sure to stay out of his reach as I disrobed but that didn’t stop him from making some suggestively sexy gestures of his own like licking his lips and slicking back his damp hair from his face. I don’t know if it was the time we spent apart or what but he looked so different right now, my heart started to pound so hard I could feel it.

“What makes you think that?” I shrugged trying to hide how hot I was getting while I shuffled the cards.

“You are giving me the most adorable glare. I just love it when your little miss perfect mask slips off.” He had crawled towards me over the sofa on all fours like a prowling lion. It would only have taken a small pounce to have me trapped under him, an idea I can’t say I minded at all but the game was not over yet.

“Just deal the cards.” I shoved the shuffled deck towards him and watched as he calmly rolled back into his original seat accepting them.

“As my Lady commands.”

Competitive spirit reignited we returned to our little game. It is probably about this time that a normal person may consider the fact that this was not going well and forfeit. As a certain hardened gambler playing me so often remarked though part of the fun in a game was never knowing how things were going to turn out until the very end.

I think at this point from the heated stares and the way in which we were responding to each other’s every move there was no question where this was going to end. It only remained to be seen who was going to come out on top?

After checking my hand, I was a little relieved to see some good cards, King and ten of diamonds. The smiling face of the girl dressed in the increasingly dishevelled robes of the King looked back at me. I know I got these cards for Kazuomi as a kind of novelty gift but honestly even I’m a little turned on looking at them. 

Kazuomi didn’t exactly have the unreadable poker face I had seen at Masquerade when playing cards there with other people. It was not deadpan but it may as well have been for all the hints it was giving away.

He was smiling serenely. Every now and then he brought his hand out to take a drink from the table, pulling it back, brushing lightly over his own thigh drawing my attention to the growing bulge in his lap. It was subtle enough that he could still claim he had no idea what I was referring to should I bring it up.

I was more than familiar with his little teases at this point and refused to acknowledge it, my eyes returning to the game as the next cards flopped onto the cushion between us after we each threw in some ‘chips’ to bet. I was looking at more diamonds Queen, eight and four.

This should be easy I was holding a great hand so far. I nearly smiled imagining that I might get him to remove some more clothes. To hide it I instead licked my lips and rubbed my thighs together adjusting myself in the seat. When did I get this wet? Embarrassment suddenly hit me and I could feel the heat rising from my core to colour my face.

“Call.” He announced his move and I could hear a little strain in his voice.

Glancing over I could see the same anguish of forced restraint that I was feeling. I nodded not trusting my voice currently to not blow my cover and reached out to turn the fourth card. Three, another diamond. I could feel my body unconsciously relax a little after seeing the new card.

There was only really one card that could beat me now, I end up putting half my chips in the pot and he calls again. I look over at him, his wolfish grin had grown and dammit if he didn’t look like the very definition of lust in a dictionary.

Eight of clubs fell on the river. This changed things a little there could be the chance he may have three of a kind here I decided to play it a little safe and just make a small bet.

“Call.”

Again? Seriously? I ran some very quick calculations that honestly made very little difference to the commitment I had as to how to play my hand.

“King high flush” I flipped over my cards smiling as I called it out. I felt the rush of anticipation coursing through me. There was a very low chance I was going to lose, 2% in fact. 

“Nice! Very good hand.” Kazuomi nodded still smiling.

“Thank you.”

“Not quite good enough though. Ace high… flush.” As he flipped his cards over I couldn’t take my eyes off them and the defeat it dealt me.

“Wha-? No way how many times is that you’ve won?” I pouted far from ready to give up on the game between us it was like a new fire had been lit. I had been so close that time.

“I haven’t been counting. I would say I’ve at least won enough to enjoy a good show.” His eyes had turned predatory as he provoked me.

“Well, I suppose I should continue the performance then.” I raised myself to my knees, remaining on the sofa.

Walking my fingers up the front of my shirt and slowly unbuttoned it. My eyes never left him as I let the fabric glide downwards before dropping to the floor. I felt a new rush of excitement that had nothing to do with a card game. His predatory look and that smile on his face had morphed for a fraction of a second revealing how he was also struggling to keep himself in check.

“I would be more than happy to call it here if you don’t want to continue.” I decided to push a few buttons. It isn’t very often I got to see him this close to the edge after all.

“Oh? Are you admitting defeat?” The crack in his mask sealed shut behind a reinforced veneer.

“Never, I’m in this till the end.” My firm denial brought back his smile.

“Then it’s a race to the finish. I’ll warn you now I won’t hold back.” Kazuomi’s voice issued his warning like a devilish promise sending a shiver straight up my spine. His curved lips had me thinking of his kisses and how badly I craved for them to be covering me right now.

“That makes two of us.”

The next game started and it felt like a slow torture. I had Ace of clubs and a King of diamonds, another decent hand. Luck seemed to be at least interested in keeping these matches between us close.

I bet and he calls. Ace and three of clubs falls on the flop with the Ace of diamonds. It looks like I could be in with more than a slim chance here. I tap my hand to signal a check. He bets and I raise then he does something he hasn’t done all night.

“All in” His bet throws me for a loop.

I check my cards again quickly wondering what could actually beat them. Pair of aces or deuces… that made two hands that could trump mine. There was still a higher chance of me being ahead right now.

Looking up at my boyfriend who was still as unreadable as before, I found him enjoying watching me waver on this last game. If he loses after calling 'all in' that was it. I would not only have won the hand but he would have to strip completely. My crushing defeat could become a momentous victory in the blink of an eye. 95% chance.

“Call.”

After making my bet the cards move again, the five of diamonds appears on the turn. Victory was so close I could almost feel it.

“Check”

“Check” Our call was in unison and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

Everything was dependant on this last card. The chances of failure were slim and then it hit. Queen of clubs fell on the river. My hands tremble a little as I turn over my hand.

“Ace King, that gives me three of a kind.”

“Jack five,” Kazuomi's words sounded muffled in my ears as I looked at the cards he held. My eyes blew wide at the hand he hit back with. Of all the low blows to be given tonight. “Flush, I win.”

“Jack and Five of clubs? No way!”

“It was just a lucky hand.” He chuckled seeing how animated I was.

“That is more than lucky that’s unbelievable! Why the hell did you play that?” I wasn’t trying to be a sore loser. I just couldn’t believe he kept that hand going through the game until he got lucky on the river.

“I’m a great believer in being in it to win it and this was the last game of the night. I figured if I was going to lose I should make it memorable.” He shrugged the grin on his face turned into a shit-eating smirk. The look was unashamedly seductive it should have been illegal.

“Loose? You didn’t though you totally destroyed me!” I huffed scooping up the cards and candy from the sofa and putting them on the coffee table with an artless thud.

“I’ll happily hear your complaints in bed. Right now I’m claiming my winnings.” He took my petulant act of clearing the sofa as an invitation not waiting for my reply.

In his impatience he threw me back on the sofa, climbing on top of me silencing any protests I might have by kissing me ferociously. Our bodies became a tangle of limbs, stroking and grabbing at each other. This was more our MO. Passionate, wild neither of us willing to let the other win even now. The spy and the ex target, Kazuomi and me.

It was a no-holds-barred battle between equals. I found myself wondering if we would ever reach a point where we weren’t playing these games. If he would become the focus of one of my missions in the future placing us right back at the starting point. So many ideas and concerns, worries for another time. Right now I was more than happy to just focus on the man I loved.

My hands travelled over him pulling his shirt free of his trousers and snaking up under the fabric. His taut muscles flexed under my touch as he moved unperturbed locating my weak spots. He trailed kisses from my ear to my collarbone and tried to go lower only to be yanked back up as my hand gripped tight on his belt preventing him.

“Have I ever told you that I love how unpredictable you are?” He kissed me hard, his tongue twisting against mine in a way that had me breathless as it brushed over the roof of my mouth.

“Have I ever told you that you talk too much?” I somehow managed to backtalk him. His hands traced the edge of my bra, releasing the clip at the same time as I unbuckled his belt. My hand slipped down grasping his hardened length he had been flaunting throughout the game. His hips bucked pushing it into my palm as he groaned. “Mmm god, I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed me quickly before pulling back long enough to pull his shirt over his head, the buttons were apparently too much effort to bother with. “You have some time off now right?”

“Mhm, until the next mission at least.” I nodded and pumped my hand a little. The lust in his eyes had turned them nearly black, I bit my lip.

“So there’s not a problem in me keeping you up all night then.” His hand plunged into the thin fabric of my panties. The pad of his thumb brushed over the bundle of nerves as he slipped his fingers deeper inside.

“Ah! …. Kazuomi” I cried out my body writhing under his touch. I wanted more, I wanted him.

“Yeah?”

“I L-” My words, the ones I never said outside of the bedroom were cut off with a growl from him.

His teeth sunk into the flesh of my bottom lip leaving it feeling deliciously sore. I felt his hands move to shove the waistbands of his boxers and trousers free of his hips. The removal of the restricting clothing had his arousal standing to attention pressing into my inner thigh. My body clenched around the fingers buried inside me.   

“How much more were you planning on making me fall for you? Careful with all that cute stuff it kills me.” Kazuomi removed his fingers, my body naturally chased his desperation taking over wanting to reclaim the friction it had lost.

The sound of fabric tearing should have concerned me but I was past the point of caring about a destroyed set of lingerie. He pushed into me slowly I didn’t think I could have gotten any hotter but as I was forced to stretch around him I felt like I was being filled with liquid magma. Sweat was prickling on my skin and I willed my eyes to remain open. I wanted to see him.

Our heavy breathing, pants, moans and cries rang out. Each of us taking turns to tantalise and tease while our bodies rocked harder and harder together. My vision sparked white as an orgasm claimed me. Kazuomi helped me ride it out against him before joining me in my euphoria and falling flat on top of me. Our bodies were still joined together, muscles twitching and the sweat running freely combining our scents in the air. My heart was hammering in my chest, my pulse throbbing in my head in the aftermath of the wave that had washed over me.

I reached up to run my fingers through my man’s soft brown hair knowing him to be a man of his word and looking forward to the rest of our night as we pushed each other to the brink, jumping together into paradise. I was finally home.

---

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Teller of Tales

The trio head through the portal to explore Danny's brand spanking new Sanctuary and are a little awed by all that he managed to make.  They meet a facinating new ghost, who has a deal for them.

ao3

When Danny took Sam and Tucker through the portal and into his Sanctuary, he was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one floored by how much of it there was, or how complex it had turned out. “I don’t think I’ve ever even made a drawing this complicated and detailed before,” he said as they reached the roof of the main portal building and house. It was at the heart of what looked to be a town or maybe even a city, which was surrounded by a dense forest, with a mountain to one side, a massive body of water that Danny would call a lake but that looked so vast an ocean felt more appropriate on the other, and even misty clouds of every kind of color he could see passing by a point of brilliant light. “I’m glad it’s been keeping Walker out as much as it has, and every other ghost too. That means we can explore it!”

“Danny, this place is magnificent!” Tucker wrapped him up in a tight hug and squeezed nearly hard enough to crack his back. “Dude, you made a whole ass town that’s almost as big as Amity Park! I wonder how stocked up this place is. You’ve got copies of our hoverboards here too, so what are we waiting for?”

“I say we take a look at that forest, it’s practically screaming ‘enchanted and full of mystery’, and maybe we can even figure out what all goes on in that head of yours.” Sam poked Danny’s head with a laugh and called up her own backup hoverboard, hopping over the ledge and onto it before Tucker could catch up. Tucker, of course, swerved off to see if he could find anything substantial in the town, which meant splitting up, which had Danny reaching out to grab them both.

“Guys hold up! Are we really gonna go into a freshly made place that I made mostly subconsciously while in ghost form and do it while splitting up? Are we the Scooby gang?”

“Take full offense from this but you’re baby,” Tucker said with a snort. “Your subconscious mind didn’t come up with anything that might hurt us.”

“Maybe not on purpose, but I might’ve made some parts of this place uninhabitable to regular humans, but perfectly safe for a ghost to be floating around in.” After all, a ghostly mind set deeply into a Passion could easily forget things like safety regulations for squishy humans. Young Blood wasn’t even malicious or Obsessive and look at how he’d turned out.

Sam rolled her eyes but circled back around to the boys. “Fine, we can stick together and tour your McMansion together, you lil show off, but if so then how about we take a look at the edges to see what we can learn about how well defended this place is? It’s meant to be your Sanctuary, so you’ve gotta have some way of keeping ghosts out without just shotting at them.”

“We can work our way through the town and out into the forest, guys, you know that right? We’re literally starting from the middle.” Danny sighed, shaking his head. “The defenses are clearly working because nothing’s actually done anything to us yet, they can wait.”

It took a bit of back and forth but eventually, they all decided on a direction to go and headed for the lake instead of the mountain. After all, if the water was safe for humans, they could all go for a swim. The trio set off and found what looked to be empty homes, some buildings that could be shops, a few restaurants that just needed stocking up and customers, and other places that looked all but ready to be populated by people stuck on the ground and people who could fly. There was a warehouse full of Focuses, cameras, and replicas of every robot or project that Danny and Tucker had ever put together before, along with a few that stored Fentonworks non-violent products too. “This place looks like someone’s fantasy dream town where you can sit, relax, chat up a ghost, and then head off into the unknown in your very own - oh wow, Danny is that the Specter Speeder?”

“Well, I may have gone over Mom and Dad’s blueprints a while back for it, but only because I wanted to see if I could develop ya know, a space ship from it.” Danny felt his cheeks burning and gave Tucker’s shoulder a light punch to try and wipe the grin off his face. “Shut up.”

“Actually, the closer we get to the forest, the more ‘port town’ vibes I’m getting,” Sam mused. “Danny, didn’t you say you wanted to be a pirate once when you were a kid?”

“Shut uuup, noo.” Danny pulled his hood over his face, even as he turned invisible. Ok, so maybe it did look like the perfect place for a pirate who hit land on an undiscovered island to have set up their own little town. That proved nothing.

Just as Sam opened her mouth to keep teasing him, Danny popped into visibility and transformed entirely, shooting into the air with plasma gathered in his hands. It felt like the pull of some massive celestial object focused on him and his sanctuary alone, getting closer and closer, and Danny was all but certain he couldn’t do much on his own against it. He reached into his Sanctuary, felt it reach back, and begged it to hide . The partly cloudy sky went dark, the clouds now stretching over the whole expanse of the island, and in the mountain, Danny could feel the hum of railguns warming up and ready to fire like Danny couldn’t on his own.

The clouds were parted by something vast and incomprehensible that sung every song never known by mortal ears, and looking at it was looking upon all that had ever happened throughout the whole of humanity, listening to every story ever told to another person, and Danny nearly unraveled before he could look away. Something like a bell tolled and that massive shape resolved itself into something steadily smaller and simpler, while a voice called out to them - when had Tucker and Sam joined in him in the air? - with a deep baritone voice. “ A̸̢̦̮̥͚h̴͉̟̳͙͈͎̩͡, my sincerest apologies! I hadn’t expecte d any mortals or bridge spirits to be here and so came to investigate this lovely new place in an old er form. Perhaps this is easier on your minds and senses?”

The being settled into the shape of a male presenting person with grey skin, a white shirt, black pants, and a purple trench coat. They were also wearing glasses over eyes that were green at a glance but any lingering eye contact showed every shade of green and violet that could be thought of, and Danny struggled to keep his gaze on the center of the being’s forehead. They smiled with shark-like teeth and held out a hand. Danny, after likely too long, regained enough sense to shake their hand and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, this is uh, this is a lot easier. Hi. I’m Danny.”

“Hello Danny, I’m recently going by Ghostwriter! And who might you all be?”

“I’m …. Tucker Foley. Tech master extraordinaire.” Tucker shook off his awe quickly enough and gave the Ghostwriter some finger guns and a grin, shaky as it may have been.

Tucker’s joke seemed to snap Sam out of her own stupor and she shook the ghost’s hand warily. “Sam Manson, curious to meet you.”

“It’s always good to be curious! I came here sensing both a new place to learn about, the gateway to this lovely little planar system, and also I sensed a curious mind like my own seeking new fascinating secrets to uncover. Considering only one of you is capable of creating a Sanctuary, I imagine it’s you, Danny?”

Danny nodded and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, about you coming here, can I ask uh, what was up with that mind-melting form you were just in?”

“I’ve never properly understood Lovecraftian Horror’s until now,” Sam muttered with a shiver. Tucker elbowed her in the side.

Ghostwriter tapped their chin with a hum and looked around at Danny’s spooktacular bachelor pad and clapped his hands with a grin. “I propose a trade! If I tell you about myself, as the answer to your question is best answered with story, then you all tell me about your selves. Deal?”

The trio looked between each other and nodded, Danny holding out his hand to shake. “Deal. Can we take this to the cafe down there though?” Danny pointed exactly to one of the cafes in his Sanctuary and slowly relaxed his panicked grip on the place. If Ghostwriter wanted trouble he clearly didn’t want any with Danny.

They sat down, Danny found some tea, coffee and all the things required to make hot chocolate inside, and offered everyone. Tucker accepted some iced tea, while Sam and Ghostwriter got coffee, and soon Danny sat down with his own hot chocolate and everyone else’s drinks. They appreciated the drinks and took big sips before the Ghostwriter began to speak.

“Oh, but where to start, where to start? If you have time, I can start even at the very beginning of it all?” The trio looked between each other and shrugged; it was the weekend, they had plenty of time. Ghostwriter seemed delighted by that. “The very beginning it is!” Music began to play, soft and mysterious in their minds.

“Before all that you see around you, before the swirling mists and oceans of darkness, before the very concept of Being, nothing was all that was. No past, present or future, no light or darkness, simply a blank nothingness.” On the table, a portion of the air became… empty, in a way that Danny felt in his soul, and he ached to fill the void. “Now, no one, not even myself or my siblings, knows why what happened happened, but for whatever reason or unreason, something began to Exist. Now, the very first something is what some call ectoplasm, others magic, and countless other names, but my siblings and I simply refer to it as the Realms themself being born.” Green light shone in the center of the void and quickly expanded to fill it up, accompanied by glorious and triumphant music.

“Now, while the Realms were the Something to all the Nothing at its edges, it still had just about nothing in it. So, it got to making things within itself from itself, and after a bit of experimenting with half-formed ideas like any creative soul, the very first Realm - the first universe was created. Inside of this universe, there was a great deal and the forces that be happened to be rather proud of themself but had no one to share their creation with. So, they created a soul, and a vessel to house that soul in so that someone could experience what they had made. There was, however, the issue of longevity, which was solved somewhat easily enough, by moving the soul into yet another vessel.”

The shape of a person appeared, surrounded by others, and a light slid out of one as they fell, before being nudged into the next, back and forth. “Now, what with the flexibility of how the Realms interact with time, the soul of their creation was able to hop from mortal vessel to mortal vessel, back and forth across history. Each time the soul left a body it simply went to the edges of the universe before being guided to its next life. And so it went until all the mortals were gone, but the soul was now so complex from experiencing life as every mortal that it could fit in larger vessels from which to appreciate the world. So, they became each planet in turn, and then each star, and each galaxy and cluster, and black hole, until that universe finally went dark, and the being had been everyone and everything in it across its lifespan.”

The light grew brighter and brighter with each leap it took until it burrowed down deep enough to contain that light, and the images Ghostwriter showed them zoomed out to show a solar system. And from there, the light flowed all around it, even jumping to other systems, until the light was too bright to contain in those planets and so it became all the light there was. Abruptly there wasn’t any light at all. An emptiness that the soul grew and grew to fill.

“And so in the cold, dark, quiet of the seemingly dead universe, the being that experienced Existing in a way the Realms could not did what it hadn’t the chance to between all its various lives with their fresh starts and clean slated beginnings: remembered. They experienced all that they had gone through, the scope of their life unfolding to be felt in its entirety in a way that could only be done when unbound by flesh and stone and plasma confines.”

The darkness shrunk as the grey light grew, and then the darkness was a ball within a green expanse. “And then they Were, and the universe ended with a bang, as they who I call mother and you can refer to as Queen Death, was born into the Realms properly.” The ball cracked and trembled before exploding in all directions, the bits of the cosmic eggshell being tossed to the edges of what they could see on the table. A being outlined in grey that held every color there was within, spun around in excitement, and reached out, taking one of the fractured shells of her egg and molding it like clay into another ball, then doing the same with another.

For a long moment, the trio stared at the little queen Death making universes all around her, Tucker sipping his tea as he did so. While Danny was still processing and Sam struggled to find her words, Tucker set his cup down and cleared his throat. “So, there’s a lot to unpack there, and I presume that you’re one of those souls that finished maturing inside of their universe - what are your pronouns by the way?”

“Ah yes, those, I go by he and him for now.”

Tucker nodded and hummed. “So there’s a Queen of the afterlife then? Queen Death?” Ghostwriter’s face fell from that of an eager storyteller to something sour, bitter, and full of grief.

“Not anymore, sadly. Once Mother had adjusted to Being, she realized that she too could create in this wonderful place from which she came. She crafted for herself a lovely palace made half from concepts rather than stone or metal or wood, though it was made from all that and more too.” Death was shown molding the very mist around her into an intricate and beautiful landscape and building, before stopping and sitting cross-legged in her throne, tapping her chin. “But Death knew something was missing from her experience, something she’d had once before: companionship.”

Death was shown leaving her castle to go and gather the broken bits of her eggshell, and took them into her palace, before splitting one shell chunk in two and twisting the two into eggs. Green light gathered in each of her palms and flowed into the shells. “Mother made my eldest siblings, who would go on to name themselves Entropy and Peace. Unlike with her own experience with being guided into each new life, mother decided her first children would have a less lonely experience.” Blue light flowed from one egg and golden to the other and back, with the guiding hand of Death.

“Peace and Entropy would know each other in a way few still living gods do, for they were each other at times. And when they emerged, they gazed upon Death’s palace and kingdom with wonder, and they were a happy family.” Blue and Gold silhouettes hatched from their eggs, both donning violet. The three laughed and hugged and danced, crafting and playing. “And Death, and the Realms, decided to create again, and this time they would act together. And this time,” Ghostwriter said with a chill in his voice and his drink boiling, “the Realms would act on their fascination with balance.”

A violet light appeared as Death molded an egg all her own, and it pulsed and dripped with what felt to be oddly malicious. Entropy and Peace went about exploring their mother’s world while this happened and even took a few discarded shells to craft a universe of their own. Death and her children soon went about covering the table in art and Realms, along with Realms simply spawning from nowhere. The dark purple egg hatched, and the other universes shook.

“What if I told you that the force that brought Existence into Being made mistakes? What if I told you that gods can die?” Ghostwriter gestured to seven eggs orbiting each other, bands of light flitting between them all. “The third child of Death called himself War, and he was the first to disrupt things and give Peace a job to do.” War walked over and flicked the bands of light between two of the eggs, forcing the soul out into the Infinite Realms early, and it grew into a small green being. Peace flew over, and gently nudged the being back toward its egg, but not before drawing from within a blade and cutting through the tiny being. It returned to a ball shape and flowed back in.

“Ghosts of the dead, as you might call them, are souls set adrift from the path between lives, and Peace made it his job to take them back where they go. Sometimes War did this many times at once, and I, curious, asked Peace to allow a few to stay. After all, they were going to end up here again anyway, weren’t they? And so, we tried that, and due to the boundlessness and chaotic nature of the Realms these ghosts found themselves evolving and mutating over time, some of them fulfilling a passion from their previous life and finding their way back home into the next life, while others stayed here and grew and grew and even figured out a way to reproduce - sexually and not. Those ghosts born in the Realms from the dead we call Deathless because they never died.”

“So you’re the reason we have ghosts and stuff?” Sam frowned at the Ghostwriter and the story unfolding before their eyes froze. “Because you wanted to see what’d happen?”

“The name I first took was Curiosity, my dear, and actually I was the first ghost, made rather curious for a reason. It was something new. If I may?”

“Sorry.” The writer waved it off and the story continued.

“Peace forged a sword within himself that he used to set free souls that had gone too long outside of their shells, their minds dissolving under the pressure of an eternity they weren’t mature enough for yet. Many of the elder Deathless he granted such Peace granting tools, and so when a ghost went mad with age they were cut down and their soul returned to their egg. But if that were the last of War’s troublesome and destructive actions, this tale would have a happier ending.”

The violet War wrapped himself in black and red and forged within himself a ring and from that ring beat drums and played bagpipes and ripped chords that called out to something burning hot inside of Danny that had his chocolate evaporating out of his cup. “A god or a ghost can craft from themselves an artifact of power that embodies their very self, their greatest passion. Peace acted as a knight to Queen Death, while Entropy became the watcher over things, and War… War crafted his own place, a fortress beyond our immediate sight, and started taking ghosts there.”

War took the tiny green ghosts far from the others and brandished his ring at them, and from it a sickly purple light seeped out and infected the ghosts, turning them a toxic looking blend of green and purple. Danny shivered, and Sam set down her coffee, looking pale and furious. “Before we knew what he was doing, we thought of War simply as seeking conflict, as his name implied. But war, oh war is not just violence, it is imperialism, it is slaughter, it is conquest it is a͜ h҉un̵g̸er̶ ̸th҉at ca̴nnot be sat̶ed ųnt͜i̷l ͜all͢ i͏s͝ c̸o̡ns͢umęd ̕an͏d̴ ̕li̷k͝e͞l̢y̕ ev͜en͢ ͟not t҉he̛n.” The sickly purple and red light spread further and further, seeping into the ground and choking the air.

“When the dead forge artifacts that outlast them, they make them from the ectoplasm of the Realms and have them resonate with that ghost’s soul, thus allowing any Dead, Deathless, or even a living mortal with the same soul or at least born of the same soul as the ghost who made it to use it. When one of us does it though, well, we’ve got a universe worth of energy to work with, replenished by the Realms, so we reach inside and forge our relic from our own soul, and a bit of ectoplasm. Queen Death made her crown of Fire as a light to keep back the darkness, and to assist her in managing the ebb and flow of souls across the cosmos.”

The palace courtroom came into view and violet War marched forth toward his mother, his purple and red, and black ring pulsing with the beat of wrath. “As her Majesty Queen Death put to work her latest project of making systems out of Realms that would regulate themselves, her third eldest child marched into her throne room with a ring made from the collective heat and metals of stars within him, his malice, his corruptive hunger that would take and steal and conquer, and he stole from her what was her own, the Crown of Fire that lit the darkness of the Infinite Realms, and with a sword stolen from a Peacemaker he earned his most hatefully spat title, the Filthy Mother Killer.“ The kaleidoscopic crown atop Death’s head turned sickly and purple-green. A sword the color of bone pierced Death’s center and the whole Sanctuary shook with a screech.

“Peace ran to mother's palace to ask what had happened, for all the Realms felt it when Death died, and oh, how realization crashed down upon that which could call itself the Realms themself, and oh how it wept and oh how it raged, as the sword that would cut free the souls lost and tangled in obsession too deeply to pass onto their next lives alone and gave the infant Realms peaceful deaths was used to reach into Peace itself and oh how the Realms wailed with fury as the Fright Knight was forced into being under the service of the Usurper, and struck even his sibling Entropy, now Clockwork, giving them their famed scar.” Gold was encased in bone white armor and it’s violet cloak ignited. They struck blue Entropy and soon the gods all over clashed, and the tabletop was swallowed by a rainbow of violence and dripped with emerald blood.

“And so, the Corrupter of Worlds threw the Realms into the most horrific war, beyond mortal comprehension, as the gods grieved and raged and fought with all they had, but could barely scratch their elder brothers. Until finally, finally, Clockwork sealed Fright Knight away in the nightmares his sword now caused. And finally, Entropy itself rallied their brothers and sisters and we sealed away the vile Mother Killer in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.” Ghostwriter banished the images, his eyes burning amethyst and crimson and he took deep breaths, while the teens leaned back, wary and filled with their own impotent rage.

When finally he seemed to calm, the Sanctuary not writhing and rumbling with the force of his rage, he did a little gesture and the mist coalesced once more into a little stage. A foundation of stone formed and over it lay an ocean and from within it grew a tree of bark and steel, surrounded by breezes likely large enough to dwarf Jupiter’s red spot, mold growing at the bottom of the tree while a star roared to life above it. “Though War was locked away, the Realms did not know rest. So they set to work putting together their daughter's last project: a planar system. And ages beyond time passed, until one day, every god and spirit woke to the sound of a scream. And that, my dear Bridge Spirit, is where I believe your story begins.”

Danny sat there, turning over the story that he’d just been told in his head, and tried his best to process it. He wasn’t sure how to do that, though, with the enormity of it all. So, Tucker cut in for him, like always, but with a rap. “Yo, Danny Fenton, he was just 14-“

“Ai dios- stop!” Danny snorted a laugh and shoved Tucker’s face, and the trio descended into a fit of giggles. “Alright, my story isn’t as much as yours is, but, well.” And so, taking turns picking up where the others didn’t know, they told their story to the Ghostwriter. They could process the meaning of life later.

[kittysuicoffee]

make a wish

Adrien sat in his room eyes wide in horror, he didn't want to believe it or want to, but the truth was in his face a couple of minutes ago his father was hawkmoth... Hawkmoth the man who been terrorizing Paris, the man who been so hell bent on getting his and his lady miraculous this full him up with rage and sorrows. What could he do? He could tell ladybug but... That would put him in a position where his whole life would be ruined, and the Gabriel Agreste branded as he couldn’t risk that not for his ladybug. There must be another way out of this to save him and his father's reputation he was deep in thought when idea hit him "plagg." Adrien called out plagg flew to him concern written on his "yeah kid?"

"Is it true that with both the black cat and the ladybug miraculous can grant any wish?"

"Yes, and I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no!"

Adrien shot up and turn to his kwami looking desperate "please plagg! You have to help me I can't let my father reputation be ruined!"

"Well, who cares! Her father is a terrorist and he need to be stopped!"

"I care he's the only family I have left! I can't lose him who care if a terrorist he still my father!"

"What about the people he been akumatized by him! Your friends!" Plagg yelled back looking at Adrien he was upset with him. Why would he think of something like that? They're jobs was to save and protect the people of Paris and the make sure ladybug is safe. Not to protect the man that put fear into the people. Both plagg and Adrien looked at each other plagg was becoming increasingly worried about Adrien lack of response.

"They don't mean nothing to right now plagg. I need ladybug miraculous. So, I could stop my father from becoming this." Adrien said softly plagg jaw just drop when he heard that.

"Well, I could help!"

Adrien smiled at plagg.

"You will thank plagg you’re the best!"

"I-I didn't say that!"

Adrien let looked confused.

"Then who?"

"I did!"

Adrien and plagg cover their eyes when a blinding orange light come though Adrien's opened window after a moment, they uncovered them Adrien looked in shock while plagg looked in fear a bright orange creature was flowing in his room it was bigger than plagg it had on a lime green bowtie it has a long tail and at the end it had a small ball. It's has a big yellow star on the side of its head that was attached a big (intend) and its eyes on the right it was a star and the other one had that look like the infinity symbol, but the biggest thing was the its smile it was no originally smile it looked mischief.

"The name is star the wishing kwami." It said holding out his paw Adrien also noticed the small star on its upper arm.

"Umm well it's nice to meet you star." Adrien said holding out this finger so he could shake the kwami paw.

"Ad- Adrien." Plagg said fearfully Adrien turned to his kwami.

"what is it plagg?"

"Can I talk to you in private. Like in the bathroom."

Adrien was confused by plagg change in attitude but nodded both him and plagg want to the bathroom while star waited.

"What is it plagg?" Adrien asked as he closed the bathroom door. Plagg stay quiet for a while than spoke.

"Adrien you cannot make a wish to that thing."

"What. Why not?" Adrien asked confused.

"It's better for you not to know."

This make him even more confused.

"Plagg explain to me what going on. Why can't I ask star for help? What is he going to do if I do make the wish? Do you even know?"

"Wow that a lot of questions Adrien! But not to worry! Because I can answer them all!"

Star exclaimed who came out of nowhere pushing plagg away.

"Do you know what privately mean!?" Plagg yelled star (glares) at him but turn back to Adrien.

"Really?"

"Yes. Now for your first question and the last question. You can ask me for help, but it come with a price! And plagg doesn't really know."

"I do know!"

"Then tell him." Star said turning them to face his fellow kwami the look it gave plagg was unsetting plagg hesitated but spoke anyway.

"Adrien the thing about star is-" plagg words was cut off by a sharp pain he looked up at star who smile grew even wider plagg looked down at star's tail to see it was glowing. Then fear and realization hit him star was making sure he will never speak about them or what they do.

"Plagg?"

Plagg looked at Adrien who looked worried and confused than back at star who put his paw up to their face to tell him to be quiet plagg looked down.

"N-nothing." He said quietly.

"Nothing I don't know nothing about star."

Adrien looked at plagg upset.

" If you don't know anything about them. Why say anything plagg, you need to apologize to star."

Plagg signed he looked up at star.

"I-I’m sorry."

"Hmmm apologize accepted!"

Star exclaimed happily "now for your second question I said there is going to be a price for your wish. But I like you, so I give this one for free! But if you make another wish it's going to cost ya. Do you understand?"

Adrien nodded "what's the price if I make another wish?"

"Hmm I have to take something that is most dear to you." Star replied Adrien eyes widened at that, he didn't want to lose a loved one of the make another wish, so he better makes this one count.

"Okay star I'm ready. So how are we going to do this?"

Star smile grew even wider "here."

Adrien covered his eyes as a bright light came from star after the light had dim, he looked at them star had a bracelet it had a big yellow Star on it and under it have a green band "wear this." Star stated, " by wearing this you be able to make any wish well not any because this one is free."

Adrien nodded taking the star bracelet and putting it on "okay now what?"

Star's smile grew big "now say star bright and your wish."

"Okay. Star bright! I wish that my mother was with us again and that my father stop being hawkmoth!” star eyes grew wide their smile even wider they tug on there green tie “your wish is my command!” Adrien felt lightheaded his world started to spin than he pass out hitting the ground with a thud.

Star chuckled “now than.”

Plagg railed in horror as star head did a couple 180 "plagg my dear friend now that your dear holder made a wish you know own me…” “I don’t own you shit!” “oh, on the contrary my friend I own you and your holder life force now so you own me…” plagg coward away in fear “well my friend how are we going to do this?” plagg had to think of something quick with his life force in star’s hand he have no way of fighting back he would be star’s puppet forever his powers would be useless without him than a thought came to his head.

“wait Let’s make a trade!” plagg said quickly.

“a trade?” star asked in confusion plagg nodded “yes a trade! I am well to trade someone else life force for me and my holder in return of ours!” star’s eyes narrowed his smile never fainting “who…”

Lila sat in her room and was enrage her plan of getting rid of Marinette had almost work no thanks to Adrien just because their friends yeah right, the only reason she deal with him because he was her key to everything that she wanted.

“why the long face?” said a voice Lila jumped she looked around her room for the voice until she notices star bracelet on her desk, she walked up to it confused she don’t remember having this. Where did it come from? And where did that voice come from? She picks it up looking at it more closely it was just a bracelet with a big star on it there was nothing special about it, but it felt off like it had a heart beat to it… “like it I made all myself.” It said Lila screamed bloody murder as she dropped the bracelet, she turns to face to face with a small orange creature she screamed again falling on the floor.

“w-what are you!?” Lila yelled in fear the thing crosses it long arms and looked down on her “well first and foremost the name is star and I’m a kwami.” Lila blinked than looked confused “what’s a kwami?”

“we kwamis are god like creature that be around a million of years we live inside of wearable object like that bracelet you dropped!” star explained Lila looked down at the bracelet that was on the floor to her she pick it up and looked at it “so why are you here?”

“I’m here to granted you one wish!” Lila eyes went wide, and she shot up “I wish that all my lies are true!!” she exclaimed star’s smile fell “ha! you can’t be serious!” star laughed they wiped the tear from their eyes “I am worth more than making some lies true dear!” enrage Lila took a step toward star “why can’t you make them true!” star rolled their eyes “look Lila I have better thing to do than make a lie come true. Don’t you want to ruin your enemy lives?” Lila ear peck at this “you mean you can help me take down my biggest enemy with only one wish?”

Star nodded Lila smiled darkly.

Marinette was sitting in her room working on a sketch for a commission she got while Tikki was happily eating a cookie she heard Marinette stop drawing she turned to look at her holder with confusion something was wrong Marinette was staring out of space than she got up and drop her sketch book “Marinette are you okay?” Tikki asked looking at her with worry but Marinette didn’t answer instead she walked to her desk and went looking though it like she was trying to find something “Marinette?” she still didn’t answer Tikki was getting ever more worried about her. Until Marinette found what she’s looking her miraculous box Tikki eyes went wide at it than looked at Marinette “Mar-Marinette?” not looking at her kwami she started to take her earrings off with a cry of fear Tikki tried to stop her “Marinette stop what are you doing?!” she exclaimed she tried to pull her hand away from her ear, but she wasn’t successful than everything dark.

Marinette was in a panic she had lost her earrings she doesn’t remember taking them off what if hawkmoth decided to attack! “Marinette sweetie you’re going to be late for school!” Marinette cures she have to look for your miraculous later…

She ran out the house trying to hurry to school and ran by a small billboard and stop she took a step to look at it instead of ladybug there was a someone different they had the ladybug theme but instead of red it was an orange gold color with the standard black point of pots her hair was pulled up into a neat bun. At the down of the small billboard was golden bug the hero we needed a question pop into Marinette’s head “who is golden bug?”

this shit had been in the works since 2020 and it is now finish! proofread made some changes let me know what dont make sense and i'll try and fix it hope ya like it! also here what star looks like. if anyone is wondering...

[stretchjournalemerson]

We Are, We Aren't

By Connor Gibson

02:51 PM

Dirty piles of slush litter the ground of the Public Garden. The ice on the pond is melting in the sun. Kids scoop up the last traces of snow, melted and hardened and melted into chunks of ice, to throw at each other. The Garden is full of people, tourists and natives alike taking advantage of the 42-degree weather— which, for a Boston February, is “warm”. I’m bundled in my wool coat and hat; others’ Patriots tees show under unzipped hoodies. The blindingly white neck of my Tatte shirt peeks out above my scarf. As always, I’m running early, but I speed-walk anyway.

Google tells me that Back Bay, the neighborhood home to the Tatte where I work, is one of the wealthiest places in the Boston area. It tells me that the bay on which the neighborhood sits was drained in the 1800s, uncovering foul-smelling fens and swamps. Developers poured cement on top of it and chopped it up into rectangles. There’s something there, some cute metaphor comparing designer stores atop a concrete-covered swamp to glossing over the issue of gentrification in favor of a new Sweetgreen.

I’ll write about that later, I think. I exit the Garden at Newbury and Arlington and cross the street. A high-cheekboned model, face blown up to the size of my entire body, peers down at me from the Burberry store window. Her eyelashes are lowered seductively under her huge sunglasses. Excuse me, I hear in my head. A posh British accent. Excuse me, why are you looking at me? I look away.

Letters barrage me as I turn onto Boylston. MK MK MK MK on clutches and purses. Chanel on a storefront. HOMELESS VETERAN PLEASE HELP GOD BLESS, scrawled on torn cardboard with a marker.

I walk into Tatte and take off my coat. VIBE CHECKER blares at me from the temperature gun, neon pink Sharpie on white.

Sarah, the mid manager, points the VIBE CHECKER at my forehead.

How’s my vibe? I ask.

She chuckles. Fine. Symptoms?

All of ‘em, at once.

Go grab an apron and we can talk about the new dinner menu. Her sweatshirt says BREAKFAST SANDWICH. I know that our BREAKFAST SANDWICH sweatshirts retail for $35. I wonder which Michael Kors clutch goes best with a BREAKFAST SANDWICH sweatshirt.

I step into Tatte Connor with his pristine white shirt and bandana and sickly sweet voice— a voice both Connor and not Connor, a voice that is mine and isn’t. Tatte Connor doesn’t create witty metaphors about systemic problems, he fires off meaningless platitudes: I like your outfit, cold out there, isn’t it? I know, I don’t know how I don’t eat them all. He grabs an apron, clocks in, and listens intently as Sarah explains chraimeh sauce.

03:14 PM

I’m at the register today, standing in one place for over five hours. It means hi, welcome in! to everyone who enters. It means my voice will stay in its customer service pitch for long after I leave, and when I walk around a person at Target while picking up yogurt that night, I will automatically announce BEHIND! and scare the shit out of them.

A woman walks in, several shopping bags swinging from her arms. Hi, welcome in! She nods acknowledgement. She wants a medium latte, almond milk and vanilla. We only have a small and a large. She asks to see the large. She’s fine with a large.

I take her phone number. All right! Will that be all for you? And would you like to leave a tip today?

She would not. She announces this so happily that I’m forced to match her tone. All right! I hope it sounds authentic. She takes her card.

I do NOT need a receipt, she proclaims, and walks out the door, bags bumping against the doorframe. The bags are massive, stiff, and glossy. They look expensive, down to the heavy serif font. My stained apron feels incredibly out of place. I wonder if it would be stupid to go get a new apron.

Caleb, the barista, waves his hand. He’s made my drink— it’s on the bar. I nod and ring up three more people before I get enough of a break to go grab it. He’s written my name on the cup and drawn little hearts for the O’s. My heart swells. I take half a sip, and then someone else walks in the door. Hi, welcome in!

03:32 PM

It’s a full-on late-lunch rush. The morning shift has just left, and the crowd hits us in the middle of a change. I’ve been moved off register and over to expo, where I’m doing three people’s jobs at once. Picking up? Todd? Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes? Hi, Doordash? Do you need a menu? Take care! Thank you so much. Hi, welcome in!

A couple enters. They wear matching black puffy jackets with faux fur hoods and matching black sunglasses, similar in size and shape to the glasses on the Burberry model. They don’t remove their hoods or their sunglasses when they step inside. Picking up? Favio? I hand them their drinks. They are not happy.

You should be more thoughtful of your customers, I am told. It’s cold outside, and you shouldn’t keep people waiting. You need to be thinking about that.

I’m so sorry, sir.

I am reprimanded.

You need to move faster,

I’m sorry, sir. We’re doing our best.

I am told that maybe, that is not good enough, eh? And Favio and his girlfriend leave.

Have a good one! Take care! I imagine labels on their backs, as bold and shiny as the ones on their jackets and sunglasses: ASSHOLES.

03:42 PM

I am back on the register. The late-lunch rush has died down. In eighteen minutes, dinner will open up, and we’ll get slammed again— but for now I get to rest. I stack pistachio croissants in a delicate, buttery pyramid, coating my gloves with green dust and oil. Once I’m pretty sure they won’t fall, I head back to the register to count my tips.

Most people tip, but off-handedly, trying not to sound eager or generous. Sure, throw a dollar on there— “there” being a $12 sandwich. I wonder what kind of life they lead where dollars are something they throw. I notice that those thrown dollars never fall into the HOMELESS VETERAN’s plastic cup.

05:08 PM

An older woman enters and beelines for the Grab-and-Go case. She wears a brightly patterned scarf over her hair and carries an enormous H&M bag, full to bursting. She swings the bag onto one shoulder and holds up a small container of chicken salad. How much is it?, she asks. Maybe six or seven dollars, I reply.

She is surprised that I don’t know the exact price. She asks, don’t you work here? She asks, again, how much it is.

Give me one minute to check. It is seven dollars.

She complains that nobody here ever knows anything. She explains to me that it’s just one item, and you should know how much it costs. She tells me, I asked a girl a similar question, just the other day, and she didn’t know either.

I’m sorry about that. Will that be all?

She doesn’t want anything else, and pays with cash. She counts what I give back to her. She drops the chicken salad in her H&M bag, and then she leaves.

Have a great day! In my mind, I replace the H&M on her bag with BOOMER.

I remind myself that I am not an idiot, and that I deal with a lot, all day, and that I am good at my job. I remind myself that I am a human who makes mistakes. I remind myself to smile.

Another woman walks into the store. Hi, welcome in!

06:26 PM

I’m back from break, during which I inhaled a breakfast sandwich and submitted two

discussion posts on my phone. Apparently we have only made $96 so far from the dinner menu. The store is dark. Half of the patio is empty, and the people walking by, bundled up in winter coats, lean against the wind.

I’m sent over to the pass to bag food while my coworker Ayad takes his break. The dinner items come with a side salad and a little bag of pistachio cranberry cookies. Between orders, I stuff napkins into sandwich bags and draw hearts with a Sharpie on the cookie bags. I think of the people receiving them, in brownstones around Boston, living alone, living with girlfriends, living with husbands, living with tiny yappy dogs.

A woman comes in. I walk over to the register. Her hair is dark, curly, and pulled back in a tight ponytail. She carries a WHOLE FOODS canvas bag. She reminds me of my mother. She’s been thinking about getting a challah all day, but now she’s not so sure about the challah versus the pain de mie, and do I have a suggestion for her?

I bake challah at home, I say, but our challah is delicious.

She asks excitedly what recipe I use— I use Smitten Kitchen’s fig and sea salt challah, without the figs. I can’t find another good recipe for just one challah. She uses the New York Times recipe, makes two and freezes one. Smart, I say.

She decides on the pain de mie. She asks how long I’ve been making challah.

When I was at home, I made it every Friday since the start of the pandemic. I wanted to do that here, but I live alone and I can’t eat that much bread.

She’s sure my friends would be glad to eat it, and I agree. I ring up the pain de mie and an orange juice, and she tucks them into her WHOLE FOODS bag. Happy baking, she tells me, and leaves, pulling her hood up to block the wind.

08:32 PM

The close went quickly. Caleb, Ayad, and I walk out the door. Our manager stays behind, counting money, shutting everything down for the night. Lights flick off one by one. The wind bites my skin and whips my hair off my forehead. I button up my coat. Caleb and Ayad walk down the steps of the Arlington stop, waving goodbye, and I start the cold walk home.

Google tells me that the drought of the summer of 2016 brought many Back Bay buildings dangerously close to rotting and crumbling. Their foundations sit on man-made land, supported by wooden pilings. The drought brought the water table close to the pilings, putting them at risk for decay.

There’s something there, something about how the tiniest bit of stress can expose the problems lurking below a neighborhood so put-together and pristine on the surface. I’ll write about that later, I think.

It’s hard to put how I feel right now into words. I feel homesick. I feel happy. I feel tired. I want to collapse onto my sofa and pass out. I want to eat way too much cheesecake. I want to feel, just for a few minutes, like the people I welcome into Tatte.

I want to roll out dough on the dining room table, showing my mother how much it’s risen when she walks through the door with a WHOLE FOODS canvas bag full of groceries. I want to keep talking about bread. I want to work at a job where everyone who comes in asks me about recipes; where nobody plops their Chanel bags on the counter, knocking dinner menus left and right while digging in their MK MK MK clutch for their platinum VISA; where Favio and his girlfriend realize that the people bringing them their soy macchiatos are people; where older women understand that I have to remember three thousand things a day and sometimes none of those things are the price of chicken salad. I want to thank the New York Times Challah Lady for making my day a little less shit and reminding me why I even.

I could work at Starbucks, or Caffe Nero, or JAHO Coffee Roaster & Wine Bar. Sometimes, when people take their masks off inside to snap pictures of them biting into donuts for their Instagrams, I think about working at Target.

Then I bring home a whole cake, or I get handed a free iced latte with my name written on the top and little hearts drawn around it, or I talk about Boston winters with a customer excited to learn I’ve also moved from the Bay Area. I strike up a conversation with a man waiting for the restroom— he wants to know about the history of Tatte in Boston, and I tell him what I can.

I pet a very small dog. I hand the last almond croissant to a woman who tells me she is overjoyed that we have one left. She tells me that she stops by after work every day to try and buy an almond croissant. More often than not, we’re sold out.

I’m happy I could get you one today, I say, and I mean it.

I want to think that Back Bay is this woman— Almond Croissant Woman— or the New York Times Challah Lady. At times I think Back Bay is Favio and his girlfriend, MK MK MK clutches, $7 chicken salads, the Burberry model’s poster-sized glare. I want to think these things, but I know that Back Bay is none of them.

I know that Tatte Back Bay is just a coffee shop. I want to call it a microcosm of humanity, a shiny white petri dish for me to peer into. I want to claim that I know these people, that Favio and his girlfriend are selfish assholes, that the boomer really does value chicken salad over basic kindness and gratitude. I want to slap labels on them, thick-serif RICH KID, glossy embossed DADDY’S MONEY, CHALLAH LADY (GOOD PERSON?) in cursive scrawl. The truth is that I don’t know them, and I will never know them. Maybe Favio and his girlfriend were fighting that day. Maybe the boomer’s husband had just died. Maybe Challah Lady ran over a cat with her Subaru on the way home. Maybe maybe maybe.

Google tells me that Back Bay has a population of 16,427. The median age of those people is 35.3 years. Over nine thousand of them are white-collar workers. Their average household income is over $127k. Most of them are women. Most of them walk to work.

Google doesn’t tell me what challah recipe they use. It doesn’t tell me whether they feed the cookies that come with their cod in chraimeh sauce to their small, yappy dogs. It doesn’t tell me whether they notice the hearts I drew on their bags, or whether they smile before throwing those bags away.

We are what we say to customer service workers, and we aren’t. We are our jobs, our genders, our hobbies, our incomes, and we aren’t. We are the hi, welcome in and the thanks, take care and all the other facades we present to people, and we aren’t.

I walk up the steps of my apartment building, unlock and open the door, then close it behind me. Tatte Connor— the Connor I am and am not— stays out in the cold, perched on a wooden patio chair, shivering in his perfectly white work shirt: ready for me to step into him tomorrow.

Acknowledgements:

My inspiration for this essay came from working at Tatte and getting to know, through the lens of customer service, the people of Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood. As anybody who has ever worked in customer service will know, working with people is the best and worst part of the job. I’ve had some truly frustrating interactions, and I’ve also met some people that brightened up the rest of my day. When I’ve been on my feet for five hours, maintaining a customer service persona, and dealing with everything else that customer service entails, it’s easy to assign labels to people and make snap judgements about them based on a one-minute interaction.

My goal for this essay was to go deeper than that. The assignment that prompted this essay was to compose a profile, creating— in the words of my WR 121 E47 professor Stephen Shane— a “dominant impression that captures the complexity of your subject”. While I wanted to profile the people of Back Bay, I’m aware that I will never be able to understand their complexity through these tiny snapshots, and I tried to convey that struggle in this essay. I’d like to thank Prof. Shane for assigning this essay, and I’d like to thank the customers of Tatte Back Bay for their inspiration.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.63

Lance nearly turned back to Platt twice, and he was pretty sure he would have had Allura not come with him for the day trip home. He was taking Blue home ahead of returning on the weekend. His precious princess curled up in Allura’s lap, after working her way out of her carrier. Filling up at Balmeria, he was relieved to see Rax working rather than Shay. He didn’t want to put Shay in any kind of awkward position with Hunk, nor did he know how to explain his absence to her. Allura was trying her best to keep his spirits up, pointing out various things as they drove, or singing the words wrong to the songs on the radio. Lance nearly felt as nervous as he did the first time he drove out to see the house he’d call home.

Parking in the drive, Matt and Rieva couldn’t help messing with him. He’d barely cut the ignition and climbed out the car before the pair of werewolves were bounding out the house, knocking him down and dragging” him by the hem of his jeans towards the front steps

“Really? Out of every single way you could have greeted me, this was your best idea? You two are lame”

There was more laughter in his tone than he’d intended. Matt and Rieva both letting go of his jeans in favour of body flopping on top of him. The offensive smell of wolf not nearly as offensive when he felt they’d actually missed him

“Oh, no. Lance, I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell Keith your cheating on him. Look at you”

Allura giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth. Blue taking he opportunity to jump and run away towards the open door. His princess didn’t have time for such “goings on”

“I love how you rush to help”

“Who you end up under is completely up to you”

“You wouldn’t think so. Now, will you two get off? The gravel’s itchy”

Matt and Rieva turned back, Lance covering his eyes

“Guys! Clothes!”

Matt didn’t care

“You know you love it. What’s not to love?”

“Your ugly arse junk forever imprinted in my head?”

“Here how he talks to us?! Blah. Keith can have you if you’re going to be like that”

“He did and he has and he will. Now go get dressed!”

Waiting until Matt and Rieva moved away, Lance uncovered his eyes to find Allura staring down at him

“Need a hand?”

“I wouldn’t say no. Remind me again why I decided coming back was a good idea?”

“I’m still not quite sure myself. They seemed to have missed you”

Allura helped him up, Lance then brushing the loose gravel off his body

“They’re a menace! Matt needs to be neutered! I hope you hear that!”

“Oh dear. I don’t think he’ll take that well”

From inside came a yelled “Fuck you!”

“He didn’t. He’s just lucky I haven’t taken his mangy arse to the vet yet. Then again, he’d probably like a thermometer stuck up his arse”

Looping her arm through his, Allura was still giggly

“I’ve never neutered a werewolf before. Coran may have. Perhaps we should enquire when we return?”

“Yep. And I want tracking collars for the pair of them. I’m surprised they didn’t graffiti the town sign and edit the population to say “plus one vampire”. He’s as bad as Pidge. No. He’s worse. He should know better by now”

“You know, I’m sure we could change that sign if you really wanted?”

“I think I’ve caused the town enough dramas. Let’s head in. I bet my poor house needs therapy. Is that a thing? A house needing therapy?”

“I don’t see why not? Though that would mean discussing what you and Keith have been up to here”

Lance pulled a face

“Why do you do this to me? You know I miss him as it is”

“I do. He really is very fond of you. I’m sure you moving back here will leave him missing you even more”

“You know we talked about it. I’m not hunter material”

“I don’t know. I think you’d make an excellent hunter. You’re very perceptive and very kind”

“If you ask Keith, I’m kind of an idiot”

“Yes, well... You do have your moments”

Lance gaped at Allura, Allura giggling again. Sighing dramatically, he started leading her towards the house. Why did everyone he knew have to be so weird? And why was if after all the years that he finally not keeping his walls so high was giving him everything he ever needed? Maybe because now he had a group of friends that were all weird like him, he was starting to see that maybe... just maybe... he liked himself more than he thought... and maybe he liked company more than he thought too.

*

Inside the house wasn’t the mess he’d expected. It smelt heavily of horny wolf, but everything seemed in order as he flopped down on his sofa. It smelt suspiciously clean... Like Rieva and Matt had cleaned it knowing he’d smell more than he was suppose to. Walking into the room, Matt ignored the perfectly open seats in favour of sitting right next to him. Normally he would have headed straight to the kitchen to make tea for Allura, but he had a finite amount of courage to work with. Shoving Matt away from him, Matt laughed

“I know you missed us. Curtis told me all about the talk you had with him”

“Curtis is cursed. It’s rude to use that against him”

Matt shrugged

“A man’s gotta do, what a man’s gotta do”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“Pretty good”

“Oh, so you have a brilliant plan to make Pidge loves us again?”

Matt groaned, flopping sideways on the sofa

“No. She’s totally holed up. Hunk isn’t even talking to me. I think she’s making boards about us”

Lance flopped against Matt, sighing as he did

“That sounds like her. I miss our gremlin”

“I know. I have no one to play video games with anymore. What’s the point of having all these wolf powers if I can’t cheat in video games”

“What’s the point of being immortal if my second family hates me?”

“I don’t hate you, bro”

“I don’t hate you either”

Very awkwardly they fist bumped before both of them sighed.

Allura stood, hands on her hips, staring down the pair of them

“I’m ashamed of the pair of you right now. Have you tried talking to Pidge?”

“She’s ignoring us”

Matt replied, Lance nodded

“Then make it so she can’t”

Geez. Why hadn’t they thought of that?

“This isn’t a movie. We can’t just show up outside her house with a boom box and win her back”

Matt snorted

“Dude, you’re so fucking old”

“Shut up. You’re nearly as old”

“Oh, says Mister ‘70s over here”

He didn’t ask to be this old. He didn’t even know how he got to be this old. One moment he was 20, stumbling through life. Next moment he was 44, stumbling through life and now figuring out dating

“You got the reference! Dude, you’re her biological brother”

“She told mum to tell me we weren’t talking. Mum said she was worried about our influence on her”

Pidge was fierce . Colleen was ruthless

“Your mother scares me”

“Try being her son“

Allura clapped her hands, drawing attention back to her

“Will you two please get over yourselves. Pidge is a human in possession of information she is ill equipped to deal with. Now, Lance, if Keith were to stop talking to you, how would you reconnect?”

“He’s probably turn into a bat then go bury himself”

He didn’t know, but if Keith stopped talking to him, Matt was most likely right about what would come next

“Pretty much”

Allura sighed at the pair of them

“You’re not helping by joking”

“Matt’s right. I get emotional and then I’m a bat. Keith keeps me grounded. I’ve gotten better at not being a bat”

“Dude. You were so much cooler as a bat”

Lance huffed

“Says you. Keith says too, actually”

“Maybe you could turn into a bat and I could post you to Pidge?”

Now Matt was being ridiculous. They were being ridiculous. Keith suggested going to talk to her instead of relying on Matt, Lance was reaping what he sowed

“And have her experiment on me. No thanks. Allura, I know you want to help, buuuuut maybe we can talk about something else?”

“I’m trying to help”

“I know you are, but Pidge needs space. I’ve told her I’m coming back next week. Why don’t we just hang out today? We can practice hairstyles and do face masks?”

Matt made a a high “ooohing” noise, Lance sitting up, before shoving at him

“Shut up. It’s not like that”

“I didn’t say anything”

“You did. I’ll have you know, I’m going on a mission with Allura”

Matt sat up, expression skeptical

“And what mission is that? To find your balls. Wait, nope, Keith’s got you by them”

He’d rather Keith have them... and that didn’t quite make sense. Matt talking about his balls felt awkward. He wasn’t a smell mutt to be neutered

“I’ll chop yours off. I may or may not have been thinking about this, and having Allura here probably means she’s thinking the same thing and I’m only just putting this together, so thanks for that Allura. Rieva, we have a question for you. Have you ever heard of a vampire named Lotor? Or his family?”

*

Lance was barely home an hour before driving the four of them back to Platt. Rieva had indeed heard of Lotor, but she’d heard more about Zarkon and Honerva, telling them enough that Lance now knew coming home had been a bad idea, as wherever Lotor went, his mother was sure to have sent someone to watch his every move. Hastily they’d packed, Rieva insisting they weren’t safe in Garrison for the one being. Lance throwing together all his precious belongings, before rounding up Blue who wasn’t impressed at all. Rieva was shaken that Lotor was here, Lance certain there was a more personal reason that she wasn’t telling them. The only thing he could think of was that it somehow related to the death of her biological parents... And if Zarkon and Honerva were involved, he couldn’t fault her for being overly cautious. Matt had messaged Pidge to tell her to stay indoor and stay away from crowds, Lance’s undead heart frozen in fear for her and Hunk, and their families. He’d never wanted them roped into this, and now the whole issue was getting out of control.

Parking where Allura instructed. They entered the bookshop through a side entrance Lance has barely used. Practically sneaking their way through to the elevator to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Rieva didn’t know much about Lotor, not personally, she’d heard the rumours having grown up in Europe. Lotor was the son of a fae gone mad and a vampire who’d been twisted by his ego. Not a great combination for a child during the years of formations of self. Lotor had to know his mother sent someone. Maybe he’d thought he’d slipped them? Or maybe he’d paid them off? Or maybe Honerva wasn’t actually keeping tabs on him. From what Rieva said, she’d been a gifted and amazing scientist, using both magic and science to test human limits... and amazingly okay about sacrificing human pets for her research.

Reaching the reception area beneath ground, a strong weird scent of something unknown hung in the air. Familiar and not. And not completely unwelcoming. The scent making his teeth and nails ache, as suddenly he was falling onto his hands and knees, body screaming at him something he couldn’t decipher. Opening his mouth, nothing came out. Heat flushing through his body as his arms gave out and the world became so much bigger than it had been. Whatever the fuck was happening now, he didn’t like it...

Matt grabbed him by the collar, Lance finding himself pulled to his feet too fast. Covering his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up, he swallowed hard. That’d never happened. 44 years and he’d never felt like he had right then

“Fucking shitty vampire scents. What the hell, dude?”

That was vampire. Sniffing again, his stomach rolled. Submit. God. That’s what that feeling was. His body wanted to submit to something. Heat beginning to boil in his belly... no... not here... not here and not now...

“Matt, let him go. Lance... you’re okay. Allura, I’ll take him to his room. Lance, is there anything I can get you?”

“Curtis...”

Curtis’s name came out pained and strangled. Curtis could handle his bouts of heat... Rieva might have offered to take him to his room, but he wasn’t safe with her. He wasn’t safe because his body wasn’t listening. He didn’t... Grunting as a heat wave slammed into him with enough forced to make his knees buckle, tears came to his eyes. Keith was the one who made him feel like this. Not some random vampire... and Keith didn’t make him feel like he had to get on his hands knees and stick his fucking arse out to be bred like this... well... he did, but not so viciously like his head was behind held down and a heat shoved in every opening

“Okay. Allura call Curtis, then call Keith. We all need to talk, but right now Lance needs his boyfriend”

“Keith and Shiro are out...”

People really needed to stop saying Keith. Horny Lance had little control over all things Lance and what he wanted done to him

“I’m... okay... just... please get Curtis...”

This was mortifying. He was mortified. A single whiff and this happened. Maybe he was off guard? He had to be after what Rieva had and hadn’t said? Honerva was evil. The Blades knew about her and were yet to stop her. If she came here people would start dying at an alarming rate... Oh... god... shoot him now... he could smell horny Matt and dear god... he wanted something in him...

[straight-into-the-animus]

His And Mine Are The Same (Ezio x Leo)

So, I came here with something no one asked for and made a reincarnation/soulmate AU between Ezio and Leonardo. I hope you enjoy!

Read here on Ao3

“Mio caro, what are you doing?” Ezio’s voice was still rough from sleep as he yawned and stretched, looking over at Leonardo from where he was lying in bed. The artist, in turn, looked up from where he was sketching in his chair, charcoal staining his hands. The man smiled easily, a warm feeling spreading through Ezio and under his skin.

“You’re a wonderful subject to sketch, Ezio, but only when you’re asleep.” Leonardo’s smile grew at the furrow in his lover’s brow. “Otherwise you never sit or stay anywhere long enough to get a decent picture.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” Ezio sniffed, faux wounded, before turning and sitting up. He made to get out of the bed, sheets pooling at his hips, but Leonardo slid into bed to stop him with nothing more than a hand on his arm.

“Don’t pout, you’re too handsome for it.” Leonardo reprimanded him, pressing a kiss to the corner of the younger man’s mouth, the dark beginnings of a beard tickling his lips and cheek.

“Show me the sketch and maybe I’ll forget to be upset that you left our bed for this.”

“No such luck. Mi dispiace, amore mio, but… some things are just for myself when I miss you.” Leonardo smiled as he spoke, truth coloring his words like the oils he used in his paintings.

“Then you’re going to have to find another way to make it up to me.” Ezio grinned, and Leonardo mirrored it as he leaned in, hand moving up Ezio’s arm to cup his cheek.

“I think we can find some way to do that.” The morning was young, after all. They could pretend that they had all the time in the world.

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

The museum was nearly full but Ezio tried his best to keep an eye on Claudia and Yusuf as they darted around the different art exhibits. He had agreed to drive the two teens and to pay a bit for any tickets they needed; a good deal of it was because of his mother, he would admit, but there was another part of him that felt he needed to keep an eye out for his younger sister and, well… She was gone.

Not that Yusuf was… untrustworthy, but he'd be much more at ease with the teens in his sight. There was no such luck and he resigned himself to wandering the art until he eventually got the text to pick them up and drive them home; or, more his luck, drive them to the nearest hamburger place and pay for their dinner.

“Mi scusi, are you lost?” Ezio turned to look behind him, finding a man around his age, maybe a bit older, sitting on one of the benches near the abstracts, a small sketchpad in his hands, and a pencil. He could almost be taken for one of the museum staff if it wasn’t for the shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and the dark red beanie he was wearing. Something warm barely began to fill his chest before he tamped it down.

“Only a bit. I’ve never been here before, so I…” Ezio tried to shrug and play it off. “It’s no matter. Though, if I’m being honest, most people come to these places with the intent of studying the art, not making more.” He quirked an eyebrow upwards and the other only blushed a little bit, sitting up straighter.

“It’s the perfect place for inspiration if you think about it.”

“It’s quite loud for inspiration.”

“Do you like to be a contrarian?” The other man gave his own look, and Ezio couldn’t help to smirk before he felt bold and came to sit next to the other.

“What’s your name?”

“Leonardo. And you, signore?”

“Ezio. A pleasure.” They shook hands and Ezio tried to sneak a peek at the sketchpad before Leonardo quickly flipped it closed. “What do you draw?”

“People. Objects. Anything, really.”

“And I can’t see?”

“We have yet to decide if you’re worthy enough for that.” Leonardo was matter of fact and Ezio’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he chuckled.

“Maybe I can be your next model?”

A light, almost indignant blush spread across Leonardo’s nose and cheeks, highlighting his many freckles. “We’ll just have to see.”

Dear God above, Ezio knew he needed more.

“Is it always this busy?”

“No. But it’s only because they uncovered new da Vinci sketches.”

“Wasn’t that a movie?”

Leonardo actually paused before continuing. 

“Not that. A few months ago some historians found buried sketches of an unknown male model in the floorboards underneath the da Vinci studio in Venice and some more in Rome. They were confirmed to be his and they were eventually brought here for the public to see for the first and limited time.”

“Are you somehow related to Leonardo da Vinci? I mean, the same first name, you seem to know about him quite well…?”

“You’re sadly not original about that.” Leonardo rolled his eyes as he spoke, but instead of any dissuading tone or rejection, he almost seemed to look amused. They were sitting close at this point, and Ezio allowed himself to watch and take the artist in for just a second more.

“Maybe you’ll give me more ability to be original if we spend some more time together? I could work on my material some more.”

“And what do you suggest we do, Ezio?” He cocked his head, and Ezio took a second to consider.

“You obviously know more than I do. Mind showing me the da Vinci sketches and where they are?”

“If I could get us through the crowd, I’d be happy to show you. There’s a line to see them.”

“I can get us through the crowd if you’d be open to it.” The invitation was there, and though Ezio would completely understand if he denied it, but there was a small part of him that wanted nothing more than to spend more time with this artist, find what made him tick. It wasn’t just some passing fantasy; it was there and insistent. He wanted anxiously as Leonardo thought, and found himself inwardly overjoyed when the blonde smiled and nodded.

“It’s a deal.”

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

Ezio ended up using some skills Rosa had taught him and made sure Leonardo was close as they slipped through the crowds and lines, eventually getting to the entrance of the small room where the sketches were set up. The lights were dim, so as not to fade the sketches or curl the yellow paper, and the displays they were set in were distanced behind red ropes. A few small scraps were held in glass boxes you could peer down into. There were a few of them, and they both went down the line, coming into view of one whose subject was lying face down in bed, long hair falling over the nape of his neck with what looked like sheets wrapping him.

“So… Did he have a lover?” Ezio whispered as they waited to move ahead to see the next one.

“Maybe. Obviously someone important to him. The detail is rushed, but… you can feel the care in each stroke at the same time.”

“It’s kind of sad they couldn’t exactly be open about it.” Ezio murmured, and Leonardo hummed as they went down the line, the subject’s face always out of view or obscured somehow but the body in different activities; sleeping, some reading, once even just sitting reclined on a bench in what looked like nicely detailed, if somewhat extravagant, robes.

“I don’t think…” Leonardo started off softly, stopping as they came to the final propped up sketch, “I don’t think they cared all that much. They had each other, didn’t they? If they really were lovers, at least.”

Ezio glanced over at Leonardo as he started to be the leader, watching the older man as his eyes flitted over the pages and pictures. “You really think so?”

Leonardo nodded before Ezio even finished, and they stopped as they came to final pieces of paper. More to the point, it was Leonardo who stopped in his tracks as Ezio almost ran into him. He had to stifle the shout of surprise and stop himself from disrupting the other patrons as Leonardo peered down into the case.

“What’s wrong?” Ezio wasn’t even sure if there was anything wrong since he didn’t look particularly upset or anything, but there was something almost distant on his face as he looked down. Ezio followed his gaze, quickly sparing a glance at the plaque which labeled the picture as the possible identity of da Vinci’s secret lover. 

The picture was of a sleeping man, obviously satisfied somehow. Only one part of his face was visible, the rest lying against a pillow, but it was easy to see the small marks on his face, almost lovingly included. A scar ran on his lip, and Ezio felt a shiver down his spine as he looked at this man who had so obviously captured the artist’s heart in such a manner to deserve being immortalized in hidden sketches.

“Nothing.” Leonardo finally spoke up, seemingly coming back to himself. “I simply… I simply wish that I could draw as well as that.” He offered lamely, a slightly embarrassed tinge of pink adding itself onto his cheeks.

“I’m sure you draw just as well as this man. Likely even better. Don’t compare yourself to him.” Ezio was quiet but insistent, and the blonde finally turned to look at him.

“You think so?”

“I do. Though, I can’t say that I’m the most unbiased judge.” He grinned a bit. “I’ve been sort of rejected from looking at them.”

The tinge deepened just a bit, and Leonardo spared a glance back the paper before his eyes darted back to Ezio. “If…” Leonardo started off slowly and a bit hesitantly, “you would like to actually see them… I could try and use you for an example if you’d be up to it.”

Ezio’s grin turned into a beaming smile and he nodded. “Anytime you need me, I’m there.” 

Leonardo mirrored his smile and Ezio was struck with a foreign feeling, but something that he somehow knew all the same. They were young. And they had all the time in the world, didn’t they?

I hope you enjoy! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request!  If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

[howsyouredge]

So... during lockdown I got some writing done.. here’s some of what I’ve got so far :D

Prologue

Darkness swallowed her as she sat in the corner of the cell, her knees drawn up to her chest, taking slow and measured breaths to steady her nerves. The events that lead her to this raced through her mind. Now was not the time to fall apart, there would be a time and a place for that later. This situation was not ideal but they had planned for it, not the outcome they had hoped for but one could not argue with what the fates desired. Footsteps echoed down the hallway and River jumped smoothly to her feet. Feeling her way around the edge of the dark cell she positioned herself by the door. An earlier visit from her gaoler had proved the door opened inwards (a poor design choice by the architect) it allowed some cover when the door was opened. Grasping the hidden dagger she kept on her at all times River waited. The time to dance was drawing near and she was not going to ask her partner politely…

One: A Quick History Lesson

It’s easy to go unnoticed when you are small and slight and plain. You fade into the surroundings and nobody pays you any attention. The wealthy and privileged don't concern themselves with what or who lurks in the shadows. They should, if they did they would notice that their fat coin purses were no longer attached to their shiny belts or that the timepiece daddy bought for them was no longer on their wrist. The heirloom necklace would still be clasped safely on their fat neck and not fetching a pretty penny on the black markets. On the other side of the coin, without their blatant complacency the ghosts of the world would not be able to eat or feed their families. Sometimes the stupidity of the wealthy worked in the favour of the forgotten. Still, it required some level of skill to blend so seamlessly with the shadows. River flowed through the crowds like her namesake, always there but overlooked, unnoticed, forgotten, invisible. Castleton was a bustling market city. The capital of Gallo, stuck on the wrong side of the Thorn Wall (if there even was another side). River was too young to remember a world where the wall didn't exist.

The legend had been twisted and re-written over the years, there were no books left to confirm or deny the rumours. Some thought it was a punishment, erected by the Mages and Sorcerers of old to trap the greedy and power hungry inside. Others thought Gallo was the safe haven and the wall was keeping out the terrors of the world. River didn’t bother herself worrying about the wall. An orphan abandoned on the streets of Castleton, the seedy dark underground was all she had never known. Plucked out of the gutter by the Sisterhood of Shadows when she was just a babe, she trained and excelled as a thief, pickpocket and assassin. The band she built was her family, the Sisterhood itself offered a place to lay their heads and a way to put food in their bellies. Yes they trained them all but that was about all they offered. The Sisterhood of Shadows. Sounds ominous, on the outside it is an orphanage for girls run by nuns. Not that scary, sounds pretty innocent right? Wrong. Sometime after the wall was erected magic died within Gallo and along with it went any kind of structure. The legends say that the first few years after the Thorn Wall appeared were filled with in-fighting and civil wars. To survive you had to be ruthless and the Nuns of the Sisterhood went from innocent god-fearing women to savages. Doing all they could to survive, they became the lords of the underground. Factions spread across Gallo, the biggest being in Castleton as the capital with smaller units in the few towns and cities that survived. No one messed with the Shadows, not if you wanted to live anyway. The Council of Elders came later and managed to restore some order and laws.

They built a wall (yes another one) around Castleton and created The City Guard to police its streets. They tried to take down the Sisterhood but it didn’t work, they were too well established by this point and the good people of Gallo turned a blind eye to their less savoury dealings. They took in the orphan girls and gave them a home, just sweet old lady nuns doing good work for the community (no assasins here, no thieving or pick-pocketing or whoring). Anyway, while this brief history lesson was fun, the past is not why we are here today. River. Not her real name, she has no clue what her parents named her or who her parents are, the nuns named her that because that's where they found her, by the river. Raised in the sisterhood she was deadly by age twelve. Now age twenty-one messing with her was your own peril. The girl had daggers hidden all over her body, not to mention the ones visible on her belt. A master assassin and a master thief she didn’t care much for people. The only ones who mattered were her Band (it's a sisterhood thing) usually made up of four girls of the same age Rivers band was a bit of an oddity. His name is Lynx, but more about that later.

Small, slight and plain. River summed up in three words. Short in height, slight (starved) with no exceptional features. Pretty but not beautiful, not one to stand out from the crowd. Her face was forgettable which for her was perfect. Big brown eyes, mousy brown hair and her nose and lips were in proportion to the rest of her face. Men were not throwing themselves at her which was fine, Lynx was the only male she could tolerate. Calcifer was OK too she supposed (again, more about that later) but the Band didn't need him as often anymore. They were the best and that is exactly why River was currently making her way to see the head of the Sisterhood in Castleton to take on a job. Summoned by the Mother Superior with the promise of an extremely lucrative job, the band could retire; not that they would, they all loved what they did. River stood outside the grand doors before her and allowed herself a moment to be nervous. The woman inside was terrifying, her reputation was cruel and vicious and she was the closest thing River had ever had to a mother. Taking a deep breath she stepped forward and knocked. “Enter”.

River slowly pushed the door open and walked into the large room. The high ceilings were vaulted and the walls were shining bright marble, matching the floors. There was hardly any furniture in the room, just the large mahogany desk and two chairs in front. Behind the desk sat Mother Superior, her aged face surrounded by her blood red habit which flowed seamlessly from the top of her head to her feet leaving only her face and hands uncovered. The image she gave was imposing and intimidating, for someone who was called ‘Mother’ motherly was not the aura she presented. “Mother Superior, you summoned me?” “Yes child, please have a seat. This conversation could be a long one.” She gestured to one the chairs before her and River stepped forward, throwing herself into the chair. “I find myself needing to call upon yourself and your band for a job of utmost importance to the Sisterhood, and I would imagine yourself as all of your band are strong Remnants.” Rivers interest was immediately peaked. The more Mother explained the more tense River became. This job was important and close to her heart. The last sentence from her mouth was the one to seal the deal though. “My child, I hate to be the one to deliver this news, but Lynx is missing. No one has seen him in a number of days, I know he was on a scouting mission for yourself but he missed his last check in.”

It’s a work in progress but if people are interested I can post more chapters :D

[megalony]

From the end- Part 9

I felt compelled to write this part tonight and this is the last part for this Ben Hardy series. I have loved writing this is was so fun and so different I hope you all have enjoyed this series and I hope you like the twist I added.

Do let me know what you think/ thought of the series.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction

Series taglist: @glimmeringlife

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Put the notebook away. I'm not a case you're working on now." Ben let go of (Y/n)'s chin but he didn't move his face an inch away from her own. He cocked a brow at her as he waited for her to do as he asked.

He may still be a puzzle that she was working out but he wasn't a case study that she had to take notes on. If he was going to talk and give her the answers she wanted he wasn't going to wait and watch her jotting down all her notes because this was no longer a normal councilling session. She wasn't just a councillor and they both knew he was more than a simple client.

Ben was close to home for (Y/n).

He was someone she found herself thinking about more and more, someone she found that she couldn't get out of her mind, someone intoxicating to her. She desperately craved these answers so she could understand him and he wasn't going to give those answers easily, they both knew that.

(Y/n) found it very hard to fathom how to move away when his gaze felt like his hands were wrapping around her and holding her in place. She watched how he grinned like a shark when she stood to shaking legs. Closing the notebook before moving to lock it back in the filing cabinet next to the window. Taking a moment to catch her breath that Ben seemed to steal without even meaning to.

"Are you going to make the story accurate now?" (Y/n) questioned, her voice unusually timid as she felt like she was a mouse sat in the spotlight in front of a lion. She turned around so she had her back to the filing cabinet, her eyes widening at seeing Ben was no longer sitting down but was right there in front of her.

"If I do, I need your word on something."

(Y/n) felt like she was reading a book again. She could feel that there were only about ten or twenty more pages left but there was so much that had to be explained in those few pages. She needed those answers and right now she was getting the extra little pieces of information from the book which she really couldn't be bothered with reading. She was so desperate to skim over these notes but she couldn't because like Ben had said before, he was holding all of the cards. At any moment he could get up and walk away and she held no power to pull him back. Mr Owen had advised her not to let Ben slip through her fingers but she was equally so close to getting her answers and so close to losing him.

She was walking a tightrope and she could see the end. It was simply a question of if she fell or not.

"You have terms and conditions now?" (Y/n) couldn't help the edge of sass in her tone but she immediately regretted it when Ben's demeanour seemed to change like the flick of a switch.

His hands reached out and planted themselves on the cabinet so he was caging her in like a bird of prey he wasn't about to let fly away from him. His feet were a few inches away from his own so he could lean over and let his face be level with her own which arched his back out slightly. He narrowed his eyes as he squeezed his arms closer to her so they were pressing lightly against her sides. As if his arms were walls that were closing in on her so she had no means of escaping him.

"I won't tell you again, I'm holding the cards here. I know you think you're in charge here, sweetheart but I'm taking charge. I can read you like a book, you scrutinise all your clients and you dig and dig and dig for the truth. This is one big game to you and you'd crumple if I walked out of here and didn't give you those answers like I did with Owen. Now, will you promise me something or do I walk?"

Ben knew exactly how he could get what he wanted and (Y/n) had to go along with this because she would be getting what she wanted in return. Ben knew how she was eager for answers which in turn let her help people. She saw her clients as puzzles and when she worked them out then she could help them but she wasn't so sure about being able to help Ben because he didn't seem to need nor want it. So she was making it her mission to work out his story instead. And he knew that, he could read right through her in a way that she used to think she could read him but she had been seeing what he wanted her to sea.

And yet, despite seeing multiple sides to Ben, (Y/n) was still as intoxicated by him as she was before. She liked this worked up, dangerous streak that was beginning to show. This was the real Ben she had been dying to uncover but the shy, genuine persona he had was also just as inviting. Even his cocky attitude was drawing her in like a net.

She was falling badly and she didn't know if she really wanted it to stop but the question was would he catch her or was he going to leave as soon as he got what he wanted. Whatever that seemed to be.

"Promise you what?" (Y/n) knew how weak and rather pathetic she sounded but Ben didn't seem to care because she was playing his game. She couldn't afford to let him leave because he wouldn't come back and he would take her sanity with him. She had never had someone walk out and not come back where she didn't know their story or anything about them. She couldn't stand letting Ben go because he meant more than any of her other clients had ever been to her.

"I don't think we'll be needing any more sessions after this. You'll have your story and I don't need you picking through my 'fabrications' any longer. But if I tell you everything- the truth, then I need you to promise me that you'll see me outside of this office. I'm not giving you your answers for you to even dare cut ties with me."

Something about the urgency in his tone made (Y/n) wary.

It was as if Ben knew there was something about his story that she was going to be fearful of or that was going to drive her away and he knew if he told her she was liable to leave. He had to be sure that she wasn't going to disappear or ignore him or just cut all ties with him. At least this showed (Y/n) that he wanted more from her than a simple councillor, he wanted her as a friend or maybe even more than that.

"Okay. After this, I'll sign you off the list and you can have my number and details before you leave today." (Y/n) breathed through the words as Ben tipped his head to the side, clearly scrutinising her as he wondered if she was telling him the truth or not.

He seemed to deem that she was being truthful as he nodded his head at her, leaning forward to press a kiss full of passion to her lips as if sealing the deal and showing her she couldn't go back on her word now.

"Where do you want me to start, love?" Ben whispered against the shell of her ear before he slowly pulled away.

(Y/n) didn't have a chance to answer before he was pulling away from her and turning his back to her. Her heart stammered in her chest as it felt like he was simply going to walk out but he simply sat down on the sofa. Looking at her expectingly as he waited for her to follow him and ask him something. After all, she wanted the story and he was here and willing to give it.

"Like you said, this isn't a session and you're not a case study. Just... tell me the story properly this time. Beginning to end." She didn't want to pick and choose this time around and she couldn't be bothered with the mind games to get him to open up. Ben was willing to talk so she wanted to listen to his story from the beginning to the end.

"I didn't feel so depressed that work was the only thing to save me like you suggested. I felt happier at work than going home so I continued to work, simple as. As for overdosing, it's a funny thing, don't you think? It's not really an overdose on sleeping pills if they knock you out. I wasn't depressed to the point of suicide, I was fucked. That medical report I know you kept in there didn't tell you that I took drugs that day, did it? I took drugs and sleeping pills and it backfired because I didn't care what I took, I was reckless."

"W-what?" Mr Owen said Ben overdosed, Ben admitted he overdosed, why say now that he didn't really overdose or that he didn't intend to do that in order to get help?

"Do I look suicidal to you? Nicki found the sleeping pills, the doctors didn't do a tox screen they just pumped my stomach and cleared that shit out. If I told Owen I took drugs he'd report me and my manager would drop me. Darlin' I'm not stupid and I'm not suicidal, just a bit... confused." Ben swirled his finger around in a circle next to his temple in a way that he kept doing in the beginning of their sessions.

He may be confused and possibly a bit mad but he wasn't suicidal. He had felt depressed but not manically depressed and he didn't want to die, he just didn't care what pills he had taken. He didn't look and took a few too many which reacted with the drugs he had taken. Ben wasn't stupid, if he admitted that he took drugs Owen had a right to tell his manager and Ben would be disgraced. He wouldn't have been given any more jobs and it would have taken a long time to show them he was clean and committed. He wasn't jeopardising what made him happy in life.

"As for Owen, he just kept poking around and I don't like being in my head as it is. If I make up a few stories for myself then that's my business, I wasn't going around lying to everyone."

"Chrissy?" (Y/n) mumbled quietly, wondering why he would come up with her if he didn't actually feel suicidal and didn't make a suicide attempt.

"Owen said my imagination was a way of coping. I spin him a life, he takes it all in and he has no grounds to make me go to his sessions that did fuck all. I did have a friend in college called Chrissy... she gave me those drugs I 'overdosed' on, nothin' more to it I'm afraid."

"So she's a scapegoat?" (Y/n) couldn't help asking questions because she wanted to understand but all she was understanding was Ben had slipped so far into his head that he had to create these fantasies to show people he was okay. To make them leave him alone and think everything was okay when it wasn't.

"I guess. Up to then you were on the right tracks with what you said earlier, it was the trouble you talked about that was wrong." Ben rubbed his hand over his sharp jawline as he seemed to think about something. (Y/n) could see the wheels turning in his head but she didn't know what was processing through his mind and it was beginning to worry her. But at least she knew that Ben did slip into fantasies and he created fabrications to push people away, he admitted that much at least.

"So explain it to me."

"Oh, baby you won't like it." Ben shook his head but his eyes told her he wasn't finished talking just yet. He leaned closer to her as he seemed to look like he was becoming unhinged. His smile was forced and his breathing was becoming laboured. He pressed his finger under her chin, tilting her head up as he seemed to debate something. His lips pressed to hers very quickly before he started talking again. "Nicki didn't break my ribs, you know that and I know that. But it wasn't strictly a lie."

(Y/n)'s eyes narrowed as she didn't understand. How could it have been a lie but at the same time not be a lie? It didn't make sense.

"I broke hers."

A shudder jolted through (Y/n)'s system as she felt the need to pull away from him but her body was frozen in place. The look in Ben's eyes shifted, his eyes were still a darker, tainted shade of green but his grin was something she had never seen before. It was a small but crooked smile like it was a ruler that was forced to be bent at odd angles. Like straight lines placed together to try and make a smile without the curves.

He seemed to bare his teeth as he bit down on his lip at seeing the reaction he gained from her. He didn't lie about the broken ribs and punctured lung, he just lied about who it happened to.

When (Y/n) shook her head as if to try and tell him she thought he was lying Ben simply nodded his head. A taunting kind of nod as he continued to grin at her like she was a meal he was eyeing up. Who the Hell was sitting in front of her now? The Ben she had gotten to know wouldn't hurt someone- at least not on purpose and this Ben looked almost proud of what he had done.

"I said you wouldn't like it, baby. It wasn't meant to happen, she shouted at me, I shouted back, we fought... I punched and she fell. I broke one rib and she fractured the other against the counter. I tell you or anyone else that and you'd have labelled me insane." Ben wasn't wrong and he knew it. If he told (Y/n) what happened even though he hadn't meant to hurt Nicki (Y/n) would still have seen him as a liability or as unstable or at the very least someone who needed anger management.

He fabricated the lie to help himself as well as to help her because telling the truth always hurt someone.

"She did spit venom with her words, that wasn't a lie and she made my temper flare, it's under control now. But you analyse too much my love, you think I feel guilty for her death and so I lie and change the past to make up for that but I don't. You see what you want to see because you can see something better in me, something with a reason but I don't have a reason. She's dead and I'm not guilty, the court said it was an accident, you say I'm sane. No guilt here."

(Y/n) analysed because she thought there was a reason behind everything but sometimes there simply wasn't. Ben didn't have a reason behind his lies, at least not behind all of them and with Nicki's death, Ben didn't feel guilty. He didn't lie about that to compensate how he felt because he didn't feel bad or upset or worried or guilty.

"That's my story. Finished, book closed, all your answers are there for you. How do you see me now?" Ben's tone turned arrogant with a cautious tone that showed he wasn't going to be very happy if she told him she thought he sounded very unstable. He seemed desperate and insane and unhinged and the worst thing was even though he was beginning to worry her, she wasn't moving.

(Y/n) wasn't calling the police or the hospital or Mr Owen or anyone. She wasn't cowering away from him or pulling away from his touch or telling him he was mad and he needed to leave and never come back. She was still sitting within touching distance of him and letting him touch and kiss her because she couldn't help but want him to.

How insane did that make her?

"I still need another answer. Did you mean to crash that car?" (Y/n) had almost all the answers except the one that would make or break this situation into hundreds of tiny pieces.

"Now are you asking me if I meant to crash it and harm me and her... or, are you asking if I meant to kill her? Because those are two very different questions that I know are scaring you." Ben could see in her eyes that she was asking if he was capable of meaning to crash that car in order to kill Nicki or even to kill both of them. She had to know and he promised he would be honest with her. Right now (Y/n) could see that he wasn't lying so she needed an answer now.

"Both."

"The answer to one of those questions is yes. I'll let you figure that one out, love."

Ben grinned as wide as the Cheshire cat when (Y/n) whimpered, not even realising the noise left her lips until his smile changed. Her shoulders sagged forward as she felt like crying.

Ben gave her the answer to one question but that didn't mean that the other question would be a no. It meant the other answer could be no or it could be yes, he could have meant to kill Nicki or he couldn't. He could have meant to harm them both or he couldn't. He could have meant to harm them both and kill her. (Y/n) couldn't see the answer in his eyes and no matter what she thought, Ben had the answers and he wasn't giving those up. That was the one thing he wasn't going to be straight about and that was simply to toy with her.

When Ben kissed her she didn't pull back or cower in fear like she should have done. (Y/n) let him brush his thumb over her jaw and nip at her lower lip and she reciprocated when she should have run for the hills.

When they finally pulled back, Ben cupped her face in his hands as he scanned her expression and the look in her eyes. He needed to know if she was going to run away or call someone and tell them about this. He had to know what she was thinking and what she was planning to do and he found his answer in her eyes.

He had drawn her in too deep.

(Y/n) had no proof to go to the police about anything, she had no evidence to go to the hospital because he could play the game so much better than she could. He had the evidence of his evaluation to tell the hospital and he would get away from any treatment or insane plea because he knew what he was doing. No one would believe (Y/n) and the worst part was she didn't know if she wanted them to.

How could she let Ben walk away from her now? He had dragged her into this and he had made her fall in love with him. She didn't know if he loved her but she knew he was beginning to be possessive about her and that meant he felt something in the very least.

Would it be bad of her to do nothing about this? To let him carry on, to let him kiss her and touch her and be with her even though clearly his mind was a labyrinth that she couldn't fathom?

Did she really want to be with Ben or be around him when she felt scared of him and what he was capable of?

It didn't seem to matter what she thought as Ben's next words chilled her to the bone yet ignited some sort of emotion inside of her that she couldn't work out at the moment. He could see her indecisiveness and he was taking charge and diminishing those feelings for her.

"Have you forgotten already, baby? I'm in charge here. I choose how this ends."

[toloveawarlord]

Sophia x Fenrir “The Night Before”

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

This came about by @plumpblueberry first asking for some Fenrir and Sophia that was titled “Edibles” (which you can find on my masterlist *wink wink*). She wanted the night before and so she got it.

Warning: There is some smut after a prelude of Sophia and Fenrir being fluff af

The Ace of Spades snuck through the darkened headquarter hallways. The hour had grown late, most of the officers having gone to bed some time ago. Even the office lights were out. Yet, he still hadn’t seen her. He’d kept his door cracked, to watch for her return to her own quarters.

Now, Fenrir went in search of her.

Normally he could bet money on her being in the infirmary and win without any problems, but the pitch-black room staring back at him set a spark of panic within the man. She was always here.

The kitchen, empty.

Lounge dark and void.

Fenrir ran a hand through his hair. She hadn’t returned to the clinic in town, as far as her schedule said. He shouldn’t be worried but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding inside his chest. On his way to check the entire building once again, a figure outside caught his attention.

“Sophia!” Fenrir jogged up to the bench, relieved to find her perfectly okay.

The doctor dropped her gaze from the stars to the man that plopped down beside her on the bench, much too close for her own liking. “I’ll assume you’ve been waiting up for me again, and I made you nervous by taking so long to come back to my room.”

Fenrir grinned at her. “How’d you know?”

“You’re out of breath, and your pulse is abnormally high.” Sophia raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him to prove her wrong. His adrenaline was working overtime, something that she had seen many times. “Fenrir, you know-”

The Ace cut her off, sealing her lips with his own in a soft kiss. Amethyst eyes sparkling with delight at the surprise that graced her typically neutral features. If she tried to pull away, Fenrir leaned closer, not allowing her to escape.

Sophia slipped her hand up between them, catching his next kiss in her palm. “Fenrir, I have work to do.”

“Can I at least accompany you until you’re finished?” He asked, keeping the doctor caged on the bench with one hand resting against the bench rail to block her between his arm and the wooden back.

She knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “As long as you stay out of my way, that���s fine.” Her sentence ending abruptly when the man stole another chaste kiss from her lips.

Fenrir refused to give up on her, despite how much work she completed over the next hour. Organizing new supplies on the shelves, paperwork at her desk while he sat in a chair watching her gracefully scribble notes and check boxes based on her large number of patients. He hadn’t ever been turned on by this kind of work, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit being fidgety in the chair.

Small strands of her silky black hair and been tugged loose from the loosened bun, spilling around her face and drawing his attention to her features. Irises a pale blue, like the tip of sea waves, inviting those around her to trust her guidance, but hid the darker depths of her vast inner self that Fenrir would surely drown trying to uncover.

A slender nose that never held her reading glasses for long when she conducted research in books and experimented with herbs that she’d spent days searching for in the forest to help a patient that couldn’t afford to pay for it. Her compassion for saving lives shining the brightest when he found her asleep at the desk those spectacles sitting precariously at the very tip of her nose.

Fenrir licked his own lips as he studied hers. Their taste aside, and the way he could feel her love for him despite her outward neutral stance on the subject whenever she was working... She never bit it, like many did when they were trying to concentrate. He’d only seen her bite it on a handful of occasions, when Sophia needed to hide her own emotions when dealing with the worst part of her job, giving a diagnosis that would upset the patient, or sitting with the families of those who had lost a loved one.

“Am I that interesting to look at?” Sophia asked, never bringing her gaze up to him. If he stared any harder, he might burn a hole in her.

“Entirely. My favorite view in the entire world.”

The evenly constant scribbling of her pen came to a stop, the tip hovering above the paper.

Just when he believed that she would respond to his confessions, the doctor gave a soft sigh and gathered the completed files. She rose from the seat, lab coat fluttering behind her like a cape. “I need to file these.”

Fenrir made sure the infirmary lights were off before striding after her. What had he said that had spooked her into finishing early? The office remained dim, the light from the lamp perched on the corner of the desk enough to allow her to file the documents. 

Placing the final file in its proper place, Sophia turned her head to Fenrir, who had been hugging her to his chest for the last ten minutes while she worked, chin rested on her shoulder. “There’s no reason for you to still be awake.”

“Are you finished?” Fenrir asked, ignoring her comment. All he needed was for her to be off duty. She took her job incredibly seriously and she would never agree to anything when on duty.

Sophia only barely uttered the word yes before the Ace of Spades had spun her around to face him, pinning her against the bookshelf, lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. “Fenrir-”

“Soph, I want ya so badly that I can’t contain myself.” He’d been waiting hours to tell her that.

Pale blue irises were wide in surprise drawn into the amethyst ones filled with desire for her. She could feel his hot breath on her lips, just inches away from another kiss. “That’s why you’ve been following me around this late at night.” No accusation was held in her tone, only belated realization, bringing heat to her cheeks.

“You told me once that I had to be direct in situations like this.”

“Yes, I remember. I’m so so-” Her words swallowed by his lips on hers once again. Each time she tried to apologize, he cut her off, never allowing her to finish. Sophia tried to pull away, frustrated by his actions but the Ace of Spades held her face between his hands. “Fen-rir.”

Fenrir placed a finger over her lips to silence her. “Don’t apologize. You were working, and I know how important your job is to you. I would never ask ya to compromise your beliefs for sex. So, no more.” He kissed her nose and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close. “See, thing is, I thoroughly enjoy watching you work.”

“Why?”

What a question. He hadn’t the time to give a worthy answer. “I’ll tell ya that some other time. My Soph is off duty so I can shower her in love until the morning. Let me, will ya?” He asked, stroking her cheek affectionately.

Instead of answering, Sophia latched onto his white hoodie and pulled him in for her to kiss him. She’d kissed him a thousand times but would never grow tired of it.

Hurried hands began to dispose of the clothes between them, littering them around the office floor. The doctor left in only her undergarments and the Ace only in his unzipped army pants hanging loosely off his hips.

Fenrir couldn’t keep the grin of his face between heated kisses. No one got to see her like this except him. In an awkward few steps, he’d maneuvered them to the couch. Stumbling forward, he’d successfully knocked Sophia down to sit on the cushions while he caught himself by resting his hands on the back of the couch. His breath caught in his throat.

Sophia smiled brightly, eyes crinkling as a soft tinkling laughter passed her lips. It didn’t sound like her forced one when she meant to be polite, or the one that was brought out when around the others. A pitch higher, more angelic than anything he’d ever heard from her.

He couldn’t bring himself to move, completely mesmerized by her voice, like a siren’s call that he would follow into the darkest depths.

Sensing his intense gaze, her pale irises fell on him once again. “Is something the matter, Fen?” She asked, not quite sure what had brought this statue to its state. “Did you hurt yourself?” Skillful eyes scanned his near naked form for injuries.

“No, I’m alright,” Fenrir answered, gulping down the lump in his throat. Amethyst eyes followed her capable hand as she traced two fingers down the center of his chest, feeling his muscular skin. Only then did her words hit him so hard.

The Ace dropped down to one knee, taking her hand in both of his and kissing her palm. “Did you just call me Fen?” Never once since she’d joined the Black Army had Sophia ever called anyone by a nickname, not patients or comrades.

Sophia’s eyes flickered away, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink in embarrassment. “Well, you call me Soph, so it’s only fair.”

“You hate nicknames.”

“I like it when it’s you.”

Her words struck him like an arrow to the chest, filled with warmth and love. Many described her as emotionless and cold, but they simply didn’t know her beyond her professional capacity. “I love ya so much, Soph. You saying that makes me the happiest man in the world.”

“You’re exaggerat- whoa-” Sophia fell back against the cushions, her hips pulled the edge, along with panties being skillfully removed from her body.

Fenrir lifted her leg to drape over his shoulder as he leaned down to place nibbles and kisses across her inner thigh, leaving plenty of marks that only he would know was there. He knew her to have a strange outlook on words, being direct and concise, as one would have to be in a medical field.

Through parted lips, Sophia let out a heated sigh. The chill of the room on her skin sweeping over the warm spots that his lips left. They only left her skin for a moment, his teeth grabbing onto one finger of his glove to slip the material off his hand.

“Can you say it again?” Fenrir asked, returning to his myriad of kisses against her smooth thigh, moving ever higher toward her core. His free hand pushing her other leg further open to give him access.

She licked her tongue over her lips in an attempt to wet them. “Fen.” Breathy in anticipation of his actions after she said it.

The Ace wasted no time after he groaned at the sound of her saying it. His tongue slid through her folds, up to her clit and circled around the nub. Her shiver in response drove him to continue. Flicking over her sensitive spot over and over, he slipped two fingers easily into her core.

Sophia rested fully against the couch behind her, eyes focused solely on her lover giving her so much attention and pleasure. The strokes of his fingers going knuckle deep into her in perfect sync with his tongue rolling over her clit had her aching for release. It still amazed her how magical his fingers could be. Expertly trained to do exactly as he wanted, as one needed a steady grip to wield a gun.

“Cum for me, Soph,” Fenrir called, gaze flicking upward to watch her crumble around his mouth and fingers. The typically composed doctor moaning in pure ecstasy, letting her head fall back against the couch with a thud.

“God, Fenrir, that feels so good, don’t stop.” She breathed out through a multitude of moans as her orgasm swept over her body, tingling through every nerve in her body. Her hips pushed forward, rocking slowly as her high ebbed out.

Fenrir grinned, sucking her juices off his fingers. “God Fenrir sounds pretty nice too, but I prefer Fen.” He chuckled at his own joke, but it was cut off by Sophia adjusting herself to kiss him softly.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing those. Take them off,” she said, lazily tugging his belt loops.

“Yes, ma’am.” He made quick work of his pants and boxers, just in time to be pushed down onto the carpeted floor, the doctor straddling his hips.

Pale blue irises scanned his muscular form with mirrored desire. Her entire body hot for more contact with him. She slid her tongue over her hand, getting enough saliva on it to use as lubrication before lifting up on her knees to gently rub her hand up and down his cock.

Now Fenrir moaned loudly. He’d been so turned on for some time that he couldn’t have imagined how exquisitely good her hand felt around him. He forced himself to lift his head off the carpet to watch her.

She made sure to use both saliva and the cum from her own body to make him wet for her before positioning him at her entrance. Their moans began to mingle together as she slid down until he’d completely filled her.

“I think it’s my turn to tell you how good you are,” Fenrir said, letting his head drop back against the floor as she lifted her hips and dropped back down at a slow pace. Each time they fully connected; Sophia rolled her hips around in a half circle motion before rising back up.

The muscles in her legs began to burn, not used to the movement and growing tired more quickly than either of them would have liked. Fenrir broke their kiss, hands sneaking down her back to grab tightly onto her ass. “Stay up on ya knees. Let me.”

The doctor could hardly complain, her thighs screaming for her to give them a break. She squeaked a little too loudly when Fenrir began to thrust upward sharply. Both succumbing to their greed of needing to find release within each other. The door to the office firmly shut, but if anyone were to pass, they’d surely hear the two indulging themselves in each other in this late hour.

***

Sophia let out a breathy laugh, curled up into Fenrir’s side. The sun threatened to peak up over the horizon through the window. “We probably shouldn’t be here when they wake up.” Her cheek pressed against his chest, she could hear the soft thumping of his heart.

“You’re right.” Fenrir lazily traced his fingers over her side, enjoying the warmth of her soft, bare skin. He couldn’t bring himself to move, wanting nothing more to spend another few hours with her in his arms. “When is your first patient?”

“Not until 10,” She answered, tracing her own map of his muscular chest with her index finger, committing the form to her memory.

Fenrir placed a kiss on her forehead. “Lucky us, because training doesn’t start until 10 today either. A few more hours with you in bed sounds like the best prescription, doesn’t it?” He thoroughly enjoyed making the best of having a doctor as his girlfriend.

“The doctor orders it, and you can’t refuse,” Sophia replied with a soft laugh. His obsession with bringing her job into their sex lives had been odd at first, but she’d grown fond of it. She sat up, casting a brilliantly loving smile at him.

“I love you, Fen.”

^_^  Super fluff with a dash of smut. I hope this satisfied!

[salted-barbed-wire]

The Devil May Care

Chapter Nine

Summary: “Here come my demons Out of the shadows All cloaked and daggers And poison arrows Hell bent with weapons Of self destruction Whispering kisses Serpentine seduction” Word Count: 2217

Prelude       Chapter One.      Chapter Two.      Chapter Three.       Chapter Four. Chapter Five.     Chapter Six.      Chapter Seven    Chapter Eight

I opened my eyes to shadows dancing around my room. I sat up, feeling a little dizzy, before realizing that I was surrounded by a dozen or more candles lit.

“You’re awake, finally.” I turned to see Aleister leaning against the wall in front of my bed. “And you got all dressed up for me.

My eyes went to my body. Gone were my cupcake and hello kitty pajama and in their place, was a silk and lace slip. “How-?”

Before I could finish the question, Aleister was on top of me, his mouth devoured mine. A small voice in the back of my head begged me to pull away, but I couldn’t. I pulled him down to the bed with me, our lips tasting each other. I inhaled a familiar scent. His hand slid up the end of my nighty. Fingers finding their way to my heat. I only broke the kiss to gasp at the sensation of his touch. Alesiter kissed and nipped along my neck, biting hard on my shoulder before moving farther down my body. His thumb rubbed circular motions over my clit, making my hips buck against his hand. I closed my eyes as his tongue drug across my perked nipple.

“So eager,” he whispered against my flesh. “I didn’t realize I left you with so much want, princess.”

My eyes snapped open, “What?”

Aleister has never used that pet name for me. It’s always ‘snojepe, this’ or ‘little snojepethat’. Princess? Finn called me Princess…

I looked down to see black eyes staring up at me with a mocking smile.

“Smart little girl.” Finn laughed.

I screamed, but he covered my mouth, forcing me back down onto the bed. “Ah, ah, ah, princess. You were the one that invited me up here, remember?”

I felt tears stinging at my eyes. He has control.

“I do,” Finn responded to my thoughts. “You said it yourself after we made our little deal, you’re mine.” I whimpered, squirming under his body. “Now, now, I may be evil, but I want you to want it.” He whispered in my ear. “It will be so much more thrilling to hear you beg for it.”

He uncovered my mouth to finally let me speak. “I will never-“ I began.

“Never say never,” Balor laughed. “You wanted it when I was wearing the Devil’s mask. Perhaps you’d let me ease some of that tension if I put it back on?”

He morphed back into Aleister before my eyes. His eyes were still Balor’s black color, but the rest of him was the spitting image of Aleister completely naked.

“It doesn’t matter what mask you wear, Balor, I will not give myself to you physically.” I spit in his face.

Balor chuckled, “So fiery. No wonder he gets a hard on thinking about you. If I were him, I’d jump at the chance of tying you down, giving you a good blindfold and ball gag before having my way with you.” His words in Aleister’s voice gave me chills. My cunt was still wet and was only aching more from the thought of what the Devil could do to me. “Tell me, princess, have you tempted the Devil? Have you tried to have him in your bed yet? He’d be so jealous if he could see us now.”

I refused to look at him, thinking about Aleister and I shamelessly flirting with each other not hours before.

“Oh?” Balor smirked. “You have! Did he deny you?” Balor freed me, moving between my legs. “Did he leave you wanting?” Balor’s arms hooked under my thighs, bring his words close my core. I looked down, only seeing Aleister’s face. No more black eyes, just Aleister’s staring at me, locked on mine. “This is your dream, love. Would you like me to indulge your fantasies?”

I whimpered. The warmth of his breath rocked me. Fuck.“No, please.”

“No?” He sat up. “You’re lucky, princess. We still require permission to possess or enter mortals like you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had a chance to protest.”

I scooted my body out of reach from him, “You didn’t just come here to mess with me, did you?”

“Aye, you’re right.” Balor turned back into himself, sitting cross-legged on my bed, “We need to plot and plan.”

My eyes rolled. “Can I maybe change for this?”

His gaze wandered my frame. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing, princess.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together and glared at him before wrapping the blankets around me to cover my exposed skin.

Finn laughed heartily. “Oh, Jackie. It’s your dream. You can control most of it.”

“Great, time to wake up.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” He wiggled a finger at me. “I said most of it. I control when you wake up and my astral form will follow you wherever you go.”

I sighed, “Fine. So, how do I-“

Finn shrugged, leaning back against one of my bed posts. “You could always just strip down for me.”

I glared at him before remembering how Aleister conjured matter from thin air. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and snapped my fingers. When I opened my eyes, I was in jeans and a hoodie. Safe.

“Too safe. Wearing anything in under that hoodie? What kind of panties you wearing under those jeans?”

“Would you shut up?” I growled and he wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Come on, Balor. Let’s walk and hear this plan of yours.”

He hopped off the bed after me. “Oh, we’re going for a walk in your dream land. I can’t wait to see what’s inside this pretty little head.”

We walked out of my apartment. It felt strangely empty not seeing Felix around. I would think he’d be in my dream. Making our way down the familiar street we started walking along the empty side walk of the normally busy city. I noticed all the signs on the businesses and streets were blank. Finn had been walking behind me, looking around, smirking the whole time.

“Alesiter said we had to trap you on Halloween. He told me the story, about what happened…”

Finn scoffed, “He told you HIS version of what happened, princess. Not mine.”

“So, Aleister didn’t smuggle a guy in to impregnate your daughter then kill her after he smuggled your grandson away to have him plot to seal your powers away for a millennium only then dragging Lugh down to hell to have him ripped apart by Lucifer himself?”

Finn was silent for a beat. “I should’ve taken ol’ Lucy up on the offer to dethrone him. Red-eyes wouldn’t have stood a chance against me back then. I would’ve destroyed him.”

“But now?”

“Now, it might be more difficult.”

I looked down at my feet walking steadily. “Oh?”

“The throne gives him leverage. Not to mention he gains power from drawing up contracts, stealing souls. As long as hell is open, he has his powers.”

I stopped in my tracks, “So, what are you going to do?”

“Close the gates.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

His lips pressed in a fine line. “It’s not. It requires a lot of skill and precision. The sigils will have to be in place and hidden so he can’t see them. Not to mention the incantations are not for beginners. You’ll have to do some practicing for those.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. “Me?”

“Well, yeah, princess. Who else did you think was going to do it?”

“I don’t know! Maybe you?”

Finn smiled softly. “No can do, Jackie. This has to be done by a soul with a foot in each plane. Meaning someone half way to hell, maybe someone who has sold their soul for a selfless reason?” His eyes were intense and pouring into me. “Someone who has the devil’s attention that can trap him, draw energy from him to close the gates until someone as powerful as yours truly can reopen them.”

I put my hand on my hip, “I thought you said you didn’t have the full extent of your powers?”

“Ah, true,” Balor nodded, “However, should we shut the entrance to hell, that wank-stain’s previous enchantment on me would fade and I would be able to defeat him in contest.”

“This is crazy!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms in the air. I turned around to start walking away from him. “Your ‘plan’ is terrible, and I should have never agreed to this.”

The demon appeared in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “Oh, princess,” he feigned a gasp and put his hand on his chest, “you wound me. This will work.”

“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.” I glared, dodging him to keep moving down the sidewalk. “Even IF I were to even learn these spells and be able to perform witchcraft, which sounds crazier out loud, I don’t even know the full extent of Aleister’s plans. Which means, in case you aren’t aware, I have no idea how to ‘secretly prepare’ all of this nonsense.”

Balor matched my pace, walking next to me in the street. “I know it seems complex, but we have a practice space. Despite what you think, it doesn’t take a witch to conjure magic. Just an abled mind and a good teacher.”

“You’re going to teach me?”

“I can try.”

I stopped and turned to him, “I thought you said the incantations were tricky. Won’t something bad happen if I- WE get them wrong?”

Finn shrugged, “So you die if you get them wrong. Like that’s the worst thing that could happen.”

I snapped my fingers. Suddenly, lights to a garbage truck appeared as it zoomed down the street and smacked into his wide spread eyes, knocking him back a few feet. I heard him mutter something in Gaelic as he lay in the middle of the road but turned to keep walking.

In a blink, he was blocking my path again, “If I didn’t know any better, princess, I’d say you’re flirting with me.” He leaned into me, grinning from ear to ear. “Not every day a girl’s beautiful mind hits me like a truck.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Aye, Jackie, but you made a deal with crazy.”

“I also made a deal with the devil.”

“True, but if he really did tell you about our history, surely you noticed a pattern?”

I was starting to get impatient with him, “Enlighten me.”

“The Devil tosses aside anyone that helps him like yesterday’s garbage.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Who says he won’t do you the same courtesy?”

My only response was silence. My mind was racing, Aleister said he wouldn’t betray me, but his track record would say otherwise. Finally, I sighed. “Fine. Where is this safe space exactly? How are you going to teach me all of this?”

Balor extended his arms and looked around.

“Here?” I asked.

“Can’t get hurt in here, Jackie. The little spell I stole from Aleister puts a protective barrier around your mind. I can come and go as I please, but the magic we practice, the spells we will cast, will have no effect inside or outside of your dream world. It’s a neutral zone.”

I looked around, “How DID you steal this spell from Aleister? And what about the other nonsense you casted earlier?”

Balor shrugged, “It was a secret silencing spell. You can’t tell anyone about our little deal until I break it.” He clapped his hands together and as he pulled them apart a thick, leather bound book appeared in his hands. “This is Aleister’s family’s grimoire. Something Lucifer rewarded him with when he took the throne. He’s kept it hidden in this world so his little soliders down below don’t get their claws on it. My vessel followed him to it once, unknowingly so I knew exactly where to snatch it from and replaced it with a fake.”

“He doesn’t know?” I asked. “He said he was going to be checking on a spell to keep you out of my dreams.”

“I swapped it with another one disguised as his. It has most of the same spells, not all, and will keep him from suspecting anything.”

Balor handed me the book. “It’s so heavy,” I said, weighing it in my hands.

“Aye,” he agreed before taking it back. “It’s generations of knowledge and power. Probably the best one I’ve ever seen complied together.”

There was quake that came from our feet. The world around us shook violently. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

“Time to wake up, princess.” Balor wrapped an arm around me tight. “How about a kiss goodbye for your new boss?”

I pushed my way out of his arms, “In your dreams.”

“No, princess, in YOURS” He winked and disappeared.

~~

I shot straight up in bed. Felix was sitting calmly on my lap staring up at me.

“Strange dreams,” I said before giving him a scratch on the head.

His green eyes narrowed at me before hopping off towards his food bowl.

Who’d have thought I’d have to lie to my cat?

Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I stretched my arms up towards the ceiling. I could hear my phone buzz on my nightstand with a new text message.

Whoever it is can wait until I’ve had my shower, coffee, and pop-tart.

~~~

Chapter Ten -> 

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