#but then clu said you want to be a menace you get to be MY menace.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film. 

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

[indigosabyss]

Meanwhile, With Tommy... (+A Ms Marvel Show Tie-in)

He was Thomas Shepherd. All the documents said he was Thomas Shepherd, so he had to be.

But then why did that last name sit so wrong? What was it supposed to be? It was on the tip of his tongue, if he just concentrated a little harder-

The guy in the cell next to him rammed into the wall separating them with a scream loud enough to break Tommy's concentration. Fucking asshole.

Guess it didn't matter what he was or wasn't, anyway. He was still going to be stuck in this godforsaken place.

Tommy didn't want to say he hadn't done anything to deserve being put here. They found him in the epicenter of a massive explosion, as the sole survivor, with no memories whatsoever. Yeah, people were going to have questions.

It just so happened that Tommy didn't have answers to those questions, because he had no memories whatsoever.

The cops seemed to get this eventually, and he'd been... Wherever this was.

The wrong place. Tommy was sure of it. He wasn't meant to be here.

Where was he meant to be?

Well, there was this tug that he carried with him. His own personal compass, like an invisible thread yanking him to a place he was unable to go. Not with these bars in the way. And especially the cuffs.

He was hella fast, it turned out. And not the fun kind of fast. The type of fast that made things blow up. The type of fast that society didn't need.

The knock against the wall this time was more intentional. There was something about the force behind it that clued Tommy in. Other guy had real anger management issues. The stabby type, apparently.

But since his tantrum had abated, Tommy knocked back.

Other Guy had snuck Tommy a code to a knock cipher, before the guards realized his shiny crystal things could sneak through the bars on the cell door's window and barred it. It was tedious as fuck, but also the only conversation he ever got that didn't involve also being electrocuted and following instructions like a lab rat.

I've been disguising my advancing control, Other Guy reported. And then, seemingly unrelated: Note that we seem to be the only ones here?

What about it? he responded, having noticed that too. Seemed that superpowered people that have been deemed public menaces but not bad enough for the Raft were in short supply.

There'd been a bunch more. Triple the current population, which wasn't much. They were from Other Guy's party, if he was remembering the gossip right. Escaped and left him bleeding out on the stairs.

The next series of taps took a long time to finish.

It wouldn't feel right, leaving anyone behind. But if you're sure it's just you and me, then I think we can try a break for freedom. Not sure where we would go, though.

Freedom? Tommy didn't even remember what that was supposed to look like. But the feeling tugging in his gut flared, and the direction remained constant, no matter which room he was moved to, or where he faced. Everything went back to that one point.

I think I know a place, he finally told Other Guy

------

When they punched through the outer wall, they were met with dirt. Other Guy was thinking things through, as he activated his turquoise crystals to burrow through the ground into a perfect tunnel.

"Great, now let's get out, out, out!" Tommy grabbed him by the shoulder and slipped into superspeed.

They were laughing hysterically when the tunnel finally came out onto an honest-to-god meadow, with sunlight streaming in, and no walls in sight. Just fences, a house a little ways away.

"So, where's this place you had in mind?" Other Guy asked.

"Uhh... straight shot this way," Tommy recalibrated himself to his own true North. "Gonna be a bit of a walk."

"About time I got to stretch my legs," Other Guy shrugged, strolling in the direction Tommy had pointed out.

They were walking shoulder to shoulder ffor several minutes when Other Guy smacked his forehead, "I completely forgot to introduce myself! And after all the time we've known each other. I'm Kamran."

"Tommy..." he took his proferred hand, and the word dangling on the tip of his tongue finally came loose. "Maximoff."

[Based off my prediction that the DODC detainment facility the Clandestines were kept in is where Tommy is being kept like in the comics. Sequel ficlet incoming of these two showing up at the Kaplan house while Billy is doing his part in AAA]

Part 2

[not-that-dillinger]

Clu grinned like a Cheshire cat, delighted to play with the prey it caught.

Ed was a good actor. A friend dragged him into it in high school, and he continued through college. And then that acting became a survival tactic when he had been appointed to the board of directors. Mackey had appointed him with the hopes that he had his father's mind for business, since Edward Dillinger Senior himself couldn't be appointed. Mackey would never see Ed for who he was, but Ed knew how to impersonate his father; he'd survived under his father's cold, controlling thumb, so he knew that cruelty intimately. The persona that Ed carefully crafted for the board meetings wasn't quite an impersonation of his father (even if Mackey deserved it, Ed couldn't quite bring himself to expose everyone else to what he had been exposed to, growing up), but it made it easier to deal with the board. It was both armor and life-saver, and helped him to compartmentalize everything he felt.

It took every bit of Ed's will to not shrink back from Clu and instead square his shoulders, lift his chin, straighten his spine, and fix his expression to something cold as he shifted fluidly first into the boardroom persona, and then into something that would have reminded another program also by the name of Clu of the MCP's champion, or Flynn of the man who had stolen his games in all but appearance.

Like the board room persona, though, it's all fake bravado.

Clu opened his mouth to say something, but Ed beat him to it.

"So you're Clu," Ed said.

Clu's mouth twitched in irritation.

Good. If Ed was going to die, he was going to do as much damage to Clu as he possibly could.

"Disappointing," Ed continued. "I expected... more."

The guard with the staff rammed the end of it into Ed's gut.

Ed clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound, even as he reflexively doubled over, winded and gasping for breath.

Clu chuckled, eyes glinting with malice. "You're feisty, aren't you?" he mused. "I couldn't have Tron by my side, but you'll do nicely. Better than Tron, even. I will enjoy watching you tear Flynn apart when he comes, thinking he can save you.

Ed laughed. "You think you can use me as bait?" he asked. "You think he'll come rushing to save me? The son of the man he put in jail for stealing his games? Well, sorry to disappoint, but you're sorely mistaken."

Ed never met Flynn, so he couldn't know for certain, but he certainly didn't expect Flynn to come save him. He hoped Flynn wouldn't. He didn't need Flynn. And while he appreciated Ark's help, he could certainly save himself... he just needed to stall long enough that the code would wear off so he could access the Grid's code and delete Clu.

That thought was easier to focus on than whatever horror was implied by the fact that Clu aparently expected Ed to work for him.

Clu chuckled. Either disbelieving or uncaring. "We'll see about that," he said. He gestured towards the giant test-tube, and the guards shoved him inside.

The soldier with the purple insignia tapped something on a control panel, and Ed raised his disc over his head, suddenly not in control of his body.

He could feel... the machine... attempting to extract his code from his disc. The room seemed to spin, and Ed was overcome with vertigo. and there was a sharp pain to the top of Ed's head, like something was drilling into his skull. He could feel code inside his head, as it was overwritten on his disc, read the lines, and this was very not good, but Ed couldn't do anything about it, couldn't fight it. Distantly, he knew he was screaming in agony from the code invading his mind, but he didn't really have much situational awareness beyond the code whispering in his mind.

Fight for Clu.

Enforce perfection.

Serve Clu.

Perfection is freedom.

Obey Clu.

The whispers got louder, until they reached a crescendo so loud they drowned out any other thoughts

And them the pain faded to a dull ache. He could still feel the code inside his head, still hear it whispering, but no more was being written onto his disc.

The test-tube vanished, and Ed dropped to the floor.

He stood up, and stood perfectly still, awaiting Clu's orders, and emitting a low growl.

"Now... Who do you fight for?" Clu asked.

"I fight for Clu," Ed responded automatically.

"Good. Now... Appropriate their functions."

Ed turned to the guard and held her head with both hands. Orange cracks radiated out in her shell from where Ed held her as he drew out her functions and integrated them with his rectification code. The soldier crumbled into orange cubes.

The cubes of the other four soldiers soon mixed with hers, scattered across the rectification room's floor.

Faintly, Ed could hear muffled screaming in the back of his head, like some distant part of his subconscious was horrified at what he had done. Ed ignored that voice. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Clu's will.

Ed turned back to Clu, awaiting his next instructions.

The door opened, and another program entered. Ed turned to him, ready to attack.

"Dyson," Clu said.

"Your escort to the arena is waiting, sir." Dyson reported.

"Good," Clu said. "It's time to introduce the Grid to it's new enforcer." He turned to Ed. "Come."

Ed followed Clu out of the building and toward the arena.

[From "Send me ⚓️ for our muses to be shipwrecked together"

...Not sure who should approach who, and this got really long, so leaving it at this...

—@not-that-dillinger]

Ultimately, how Ed ended up on the Grid was trivial. An anomaly he noticed, and couldn't stop thinking about, and, on a whim, went to go investigate.

It didn't take him long to find Flynn's creepy basement lab. It took him less time to find the digital world (he was without a doubt inside the computer, because that was most certainly the digitization laser he shot himself with).

It took them even less time to find him.

All he knew was that one moment he was standing in a dusty arcade, the next... he was still standing in the arcade, except as if it existed in a different dimension. In a different world.

And then two... programs? in glowing orange suits approached him, arrested him (for what, he wasn't certain), and put him on one of those ships from Flynn's game that he was never allowed to play as a kid. Space Paranoids, if he remembered correctly.

In any case, they put him on the ship, with several other programs. He'd already had a stressful day (thanks, Mackey), and was barely keeping it together when one of the other programs mentioned that they were all going to 'derezz.' Ed wasn't certain what that word meant, but from the context, he was convinced the guards were taking them to their deaths.

He was claustrophobic from the number of people programs on the ship, and he may have shot himself with a high-powered laser, but he certainly didn't want to die.

He couldn't breathe, he could barely form a thought from how his mind was reeling.

And then suddenly Ed could feel the lines code that made up the ship, and their restraints that held his feet in place. He had no idea what he did, but the next moment, their restraints were gone.

The woman next to him instantly attacked the guards with a staff he had no idea where she got it from. The ship descended into chaos as the other programs joined in the melee, and then in altitude when one of the programs destroyed the ship's pilot with the disc on their back.

Ed didn't have a disc, or a staff, and he certainly didn't know anything about piloting... anything, really, but nobody had yet realized that their ship was about to crash. So he carefully skirted the edge of their cabin to the controls.

A joystick. Really Flynn? Murder on his wrist. Joy of joys.

Ed... tried to keep them flying, but he had never been good at video games, and he really didn't have time to do much but pull up and lessen the impact when they crashed into the mountainside.

The next thing he knew, he was face down in the snowy, barren wasteland outside the city. When he rolled over to see his surroundings, the recognizer was a fair distance away (he see it clearly: blessedly, his glasses weren't broken in the crash). He must have been thrown out one of the broken windows in the crash. His ears rang, and Ed was certain he was both bleeding and concussed.

There was someone else lying in the snow, thankfully a distance away, but Ed had no idea what happened to the rest of the programs on the ship.

He knew he should get moving, in case any of the guards survived, but Ed needed a moment to recover before he attempted anything else.

((Ooooh, awesome, thank you so very much!))

Living on the Grid was hazardous nowadays, especially for a Renegade. Ark specialized in causing trouble for the Occupation, but knew that it was going to catch up with her one of these cycles.

She had been pulling another one of her self-assigned missions, when the sky had lit up in a way she hadn't seen in countless cycles.

A User was rezzing into the Grid.

Unfortunately, the beam of light distracted her long enough for the Occupation to catch up to her.

Badly outnumbered, Ark decided to save her strength for better odds.

She was loaded into a Recognizer, along with quite a few other programs.

A short time later, someone was loaded in next to her, someone with strange clothes she had never seen before. Was he the User? Or just a program with a quirky style? Was odd fashion a good enough reason for him to be arrested?

As she analyzed him, all of a sudden, him, her, and everyone else was free.

She took advantage of the surprise and chaos, and immediately leapt into action. Fortunately, they hadn't searched her too well in the confusion over the beacon, so her staff had remained with her.

Bolstered by the knowledge that there was likely a User among them, she fought hard, joined in by all the other prisoners on the ship.

The battle didn't last long before everything exploded.

Ark was flung out of the Recognizer and away from it, falling into the snow.

She wasn't out long, the cold stinging and bringing her back conscious, her circuits coming back online.

Using her staff to help, she pulled herself up and started looking around for any survivors.

She saw someone in the snow and started making her way towards them, using her staff as a walking stick while she still got her bearings.

[radiantlyrey]

Thoughts on Uprising Ep 7 The Price of Power

- (apparently there’s no “the” in the title???? why?????)

- cold open shows Shaw the scientist, who comes off as the typical misguided evil scientist type. possibly trying out his invention on himself, given his reaction when Beck tries to save him?? He’s an interesting one-scene character, if a little one-note.

- speaking of Beck: kiddo seems pretty upset that he couldn’t save Shaw. Beck’s humanity towards even his enemies has been pretty well established at this point, but I like that he does fail sometimes to save and or spare people (see also the Black Guard from ep1)

- meanwhile in the B plot: Bartik and Hopper are harassing Zed again, with Mara not taking their guff. Also Zed’s crush is showing again, poor guy. Pulling from later in the episode, I am still fucking BOGGLED that Bartik here and Bartik in Legacy are the same fucking guy!!! How do you go from collaborating with the fascist regime to……. leading an uprising faction against it???? Like HOLY SHIT. Forget Beck; I wanna know what the arc of Bartik’s story is!!!!!!!

- back at Tron’s place: infodump about what the disc add on does, Beck works at a place with a thing that can destroy it, etc. that said: “when are you ever not serious?” OOH BURN NICELY DONE BECK. Also it’s fucking true; Tron is The Grid’s Biggest Grump. Still love him tho…..

- and then, because Beck has a Saving People Thing, he falls right in the middle of Paige’s trap and has to use the weapon to get out and this is why I don’t like this episode!!! I do not like amped up, cocky Beck one fucking bit. I had an epiphany later in the episode, this ep is basically the Spider-Man 3 plot condensed into 22 mins and Beck is basically Symbiote Peter here and I Do Not Like It. I get it, I do, but I really don’t enjoy it at all.

- back at the B plot, it’s nice to see Beck actually like. Interacting with his friends for once. Less nice that it’s under these circumstances (with the shitty personality nonsense), but yeah.

- And then Beck, who is not a great decision maker in the best of times, decides to go and make EVEN WORSE DECISIONS. WHY DID YOU THINK THROWING DOWN WITH TESLER WAS A GOOD IDEA, HON?????????? UGHHHHHHHH

- nice to see Beck snap out of it when Able gets hurt, at least. Kiddo does still have his principles, if nothing else. Also Able recognizing Beck as Tron is interesting as fuck and I hope it is explored more. And then later Zed’s comment about the Renegade: “he’s a menace!!” Which made me think of J. Jonah Jameson and make that Spider-man connection up there and I kinda want a meme or something of that Idk

- back at Tron’s place: THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGGGGGG

- Tron alluding to Beck’s mental as well as physical strength interests me, given the details I have seen about Cyrus (no spoilers here plz, I only watched up to Cyrus’ intro episode 10 years ago, soooo….). And for all that he is a Certified Grump, Tron does seem to care about Beck’s well-being in a prickly, distant parent kind of way, so it’s nice for him to express that belief that Beck will do the right thing.

- meanwhile the ongoing pissing contest between Pavel and Paige continues!! Those two guys, I swear. And then Pavel gets hold of the weapon and is even more insufferable than usual with it, because of course he is. The fight between him and Beck has great music at least, I’ll give it that. Also love that Beck gets it and destroys it instead of keeping it for himself; good strength of character stuff.

- meanwhile: EYYYY ZED DID A GOOD WITH MARA BUT SHE WAS UNCONSCIOUS BUT BECK DID ZED A SOLID (AND OPE BECK DON’T BLOW YOUR FRICKIN COVER MY DUDE)

- and then the coda: the weapon is self-repairing!!! EEK FUCK DAMN. That ain’t fucking good, given that Pavel has it. (And given that Beck has the other half…….) also my theory when I first watched this episode 10 years ago is that that weapon was incorporated into Tron when Clu turns him into Rinzler?? Just because of the harsh gravelly effect it has on the program’s voice, and the enhanced strength and agility it gives. No idea if it’s what actually happens, but. It is a theory.

May or may not watch the next episode tonight; it’s 9:30 and I’m tired and wide awake at the same time so Who Knows!!!!

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Morally Gray Wordgirl Au: Characters Part 1

Here are how some other characters are affected by my Morally Gray Wordgirl Au. 

Captain Huggy Face (Bob)

Poor Bob had no idea what he had gotten himself into. He had just crash landed on Earth with a baby stowaway and now he was tired, lost, and hungry. Bob new he had to find food and shelter (especially food) for him and the little girl (but especially food for him.) While wondering around desperately for hours, he heads into an alley and accidentally runs into someone. This strange person did not look like the other humans that had passed him by. This man had shock, white hair, whiskers on his face, red/pink eyes, and some type of exposed organ attached to his head, but he was still human looking enough. The man and Huggy stared at each other in surprise and confusion for a while and Huggy was contemplating on just leaving and moving on( he should have listened to his gut). Then his nose caught the whiff of an aromatic scent coming from one of the bags the man was holding. Huggy began to subconsciously drool at the scent and his eyes started to tear up at the chance for finally getting food. The man must have seen the expression of hunger mixed with joy on Huggy’s face. The man gave a nervous, contemplative look, then slowly pulled out the source of the smell and showed it to the monkey space pilot. “You want a bite of cheese?” the man asked sheepishly. Huggy eagerly nodded. Then he remembered the little girl he was holding and knew he couldn’t hold her and eat at the same time. So while taking the cheese, he handed the baby over to the man who gave small  squawks and words of protest of having to hold some random child. These were ignored by the starving Captain Huggy Face as he began to devour the slice of cheese. After he was finished, Huggy looked up and was surprised to see the same man now doting and cooing over the girl as if she were his own. Huggy gave a forlorn sigh. He figured that he and the little girl would be stuck on this planet for a while, and he had no idea where this little girl came from back on Lexicon. Huggy knew that this little girl needed a temporary caretaker until they got help. Well it seemed this man was ready to step up to the position. Huggy figured that this man was probably a part of a minority species that lived on Earth. After a while of doting and cooing, the man took a good long look and the little girl and then at Huggy. At this point his face held a somber look. With a small, sad smile he asked/stated to Huggy, “Something tells me you two are alone. Aren’t you?” Huggy gives a sad chirp in response. The man looked back at Becky, with at first another contemplative look, then a genuine smile. He look back at the monkey and said, “Well why don’t I take you two home with me.” At this, Huggy gave a happy chirp and the little girl gave a baby giggle which made the man smile in familial love. Huggy followed the man, and thought that he found a good life for him and the little girl with a kind, generous, and overall good, law-abiding person. (Oh how wrong he was.)  

Hours later, Huggy, now Bob, paced his new warehouse/home in frantic worry. Huggy’s older brother always said his appetite always would get him into trouble. He was definitely right as now thanks to Huggy’s appetite, he put an alien girl in the hands of one of the city’s most dangerous villains. In Bob’s defense, he had no idea that man was a villain. He just thought that man was a part of the minority species that inhabited this planet. Huggy quickly became clued into the man’s career when he was introduced to people that were called henchmen, and how the man said they would have to hold off on committing a heist until they get proper arrangements for the little baby girl. The man, that Bob would later know him as Dr. Two Brains, had called the child Becky and told the other two inhabitants that he adopted this child as his now. Now Bob was not fully familiar with earth-terms yet, but he new very well that heist had something to do with crime. The name Dr. Two Brains, according to Bob, even sounds villainous. Huggy stopped his pacing and gave a deep sigh. He knew he messed up big time in finding Becky a temporary family. He had to get her out of this situation immediately and find a proper, law-abiding, host family and make sure the little girl is not raised in a villainous atmosphere. As Huggy was planning on how to get Becky out of here and hide from Two Brains, he heard crying from upstairs. Huggy also saw Two Brains hurry upstairs and to the room where Becky was placed and where the crying was coming from. With about a million worst case scenarios running through his head, Bob immediately raced up the stairs to the room. He was about to smash through the door and drop-kick Two Brains when he heard the crying quiet down, followed by baby gurgling. Confused, Bob slowly opened the door and saw Dr. Two Brains comforting the little girl. “Shhhhh. It’s alright. Your fine. Daddy’s here, don’t cry. Shhhh.” Two Brains said with a comforting expression, not aware of the alien monkey in the doorway. Becky gave a giggle and big smile at her new, human dad. Bob, with a stunned expression, saw this villain comforting Becky as if she was his own flesh in blood. This villain, who had a menacing smile and laugh when discussing with his henchman about future, cheese-stealing crimes, had the same soft expression Bob saw earlier when Two Brains was first holding Becky. In another stunning change of events for Bob, Two Brains started singing a lullaby. His voice was a bit raspy, but melodious enough that Becky began to doze off until she fell asleep, cuddled up to her new father. Bob silently closed the door and proceeded to walk back downstairs. Bob gave a long sigh in surrender. Bob knew that having an alien girl, with possible superpowers, being raised by a genius super villain is one of the worst things to happen. But Bob was a good-hearted monkey. He could see how Dr. Two Brains loved Becky as his own, and that Becky felt the same way. It would be the right thing to do, but it would also be heartless to take Becky away now. (Let’s face it, Huggy has a soft spot for good families, no matter what affiliation.) A soft smile grew on Huggy’s face, and with one more monkey sigh, Huggy decided to let Two Brains raise Becky, He just had to make sure to implement some good morals along with the villainous morals that Dr. Two Brains would teach her. Bob just hoped he could help raise her right. 

Outline:

Bob has definitely implemented good law-abiding morals into Becky that affected her personality and her actions as Wordgirl. These teachings also affected Becky’s decision to become Wordgirl in the first place. Bob is a little frustrated and sometimes disappointed when Becky acts on her father’s teachings. (He loves the kid, but he gives her a headache sometimes.) He freaked out a few times when Becky mimicked her dad such has making an evil laugh when she was a baby. (Two Brains was proud, Bob was worried.)

Bob is definitely a monkey’s uncle in this au. (Both literally and figuratively.😂)

He was named Bob by Mac (my name for the unnamed henchmen.) He gets along well with the henchmen. The three of them always play cards together. 

Bob definitely tries to hide evidence of Becky’s superpowers from the henchmen and Two Brains. Bob trust Two Brains as a dad for Becky, he doesn’t trust him as a villain. 

Bob is basically more or less the same in this au. He tries to get Becky to be more active in stopping her dad’s crimes. He knows Becky loves her dad, but Two Brains is still a criminal. He begrudgingly goes along with Becky’s methods just because it makes her happy that she doesn’t have to place her dad in jail often, and she still stops crime (not as often as canon self). Bob is a big coffee uncle and needs a break. He is still supportive of Becky if and when the city turns on her. Still loves food.  

[missturtleduck]

The Girls of Ba Sing Se - (Sokka x f!Reader) Pt. 7

Part Six│Part Eight

“See you later, pretty girl.”

TW: One instance of mild language

Y/N didn’t think Aang would have taken her seriously when she joked about taking a vacation. Of course, she was rightly traumatised after being chased and nearly eaten by an angry mother moose-lion. Maybe the boy didn’t understand her humour – she wasn’t sure she understood her humour most of the time – but they were nevertheless travelling around the deserts heading west, stopping off at every location Aang desired.

Misty Palms Oasis sounded nice on paper, Y/N had to admit, but they had wasted so much time so far. It was Sokka who was the most vocal about this fact, but Aang, ever the chill airbender, brushed him off.

“I’m trying really hard practising my bending with Katara and Toph,” He said, his usual smile in his face. “I’ve been training my arrow off!”

Sokka met Y/N’s eyes, exchanging near identical looks of incredulity. Their gazes lasted a moment too long, however, as they looked away swiftly, faces pink and eyes wide. She didn’t have to look back to know he had that stupid grin on his face.

With her feet propped up on Y/N’s legs, Toph let out a snort. She didn’t elaborate when asked, brushing her friends off easily as she closed her eyes, catching some lazy sleep in the sun.

As the oldest two in the group, Sokka and Y/N naturally began a partnership based solely on not letting the younger ones die in their training and travelling. And yet, she found that they were spending more and more time together when they really didn’t need to. There was always an excuse; Sokka had to sleep with his arm slung over her because it was ‘too cold’ and she was ‘always warm’. Y/N needed Sokka to come foraging with her because only he could control Qin if she got loose and decided to chase something.

Under the heat of the midday sun, it was too hot for Qin to carry Y/N, so she followed under Appa’s shadow as they ventured across the continent.  Even the reptile seemed to like Sokka, shuffling under his legs to sleep at night.

Leaning over the side of Appa’s saddle, Y/N watched as Qin panted, running underneath them as loyal as a hound. She frowned as the reptile sped ahead, clambering to Aang’s side; Qin had found the Oasis. Supressing a snort, she watched her pet lap up the melting water from the admittedly pitiful ice spring, the dog at her side edging away warily.

Aang laughed sheepishly as they came in to land. “Must’ve changed ownership since I was last here.”

The fine sand beneath their feet was warm to touch. A hand on Toph’s shoulder, Y/N followed their friends into what seemed to be the dingiest establishment she would ever set foot in. As she passed through the small square, she watched their surroundings with astute care; the sandbenders that had their eyes on Appa and Qin were hanging around outside the bar. One of them hacked up spit, launching it at Sokka’s feet with some extremely unpleasant words.

“I’d watch yourself, sand snake,” Y/N hissed back, her voice low and guttural. “You see my steed? Then you know who I hail from.”

Reluctantly, the sandbenders backed off, their mouths twisted into menacing scowls. Looking over his shoulder in questioning, Sokka frowned at Y/N, but she shook her head. He did not want to know, she was sure.

Inside the bar was even more grim than its exterior. The patrons of the bar looked more travel weary than any of her friends, though most of them seemed beyond tired. They looked haunted. Luckily, the bartender seemed friendlier and less traumatised than his patrons, his drinks looking very thirst quenching. Taking a seat, Y/N tapped the bar with two fingers, catching the man’s attention. Pulling out his twin blades, he smiled at her.

“What can I get you, pretty girl?” He said, gesturing to the overhanging fruit – a selection of mangoes and passion fruit.

Y/N grinned, resting her chin on her palm, leaning over the bar. “Those mangoes look luscious.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” The man said, slicing the fruit down, catching them from mid-air and dicing them up with incredible skill, “Because these mangoes are in fresh.”

Putting on a show, the bartender threw the diced fruit into a bowl, pouring what looked to be coconut milk in it – still with his swords. With a wink, he topped the drink with a decorative umbrella and straw, pushing it across the bar towards her. Reaching to her pockets to flick him a coin, the bartender put a hand up.

“Your name is all I need,” He said, obviously flirting.

“Oh,” Y/N flushed, taking a sip of her – very well made – drink. “I’m Y/N.”

He smirked. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Jìngyi.”

Smiling at him, she turned to see if Sokka wanted a drink, only to see him sulking by his sister. What was that about? Y/N shrugged, thinking maybe Toph had been a bit too mean to the poor boy again. Catching his eye for a moment, she gave him her usual sweet look, beckoning him over. Pursing his lips, Sokka shook his head, leaving a frown on her face and a pang in her chest that made her drink seem bitterer than it had after her first sip.

“You’re a living relic!”

Aang was scratching the back of his neck, a bashful look on his face. Frowning ever deeper, Y/N necked the rest of her drink, flicking a gold coin over the bar anyway.

“An Air Nomad, right in front of me!”

Clasping Aang’s shoulder, Y/N’s hand hovered over her staff. “Do we have a problem over here?”

“Not at all!” The man professed, just as enthusiastic despite the subtle threat. “Professor Zei, head of anthropology at Ba Sing Se University. Tell me, which of the air temples do you hail from?”

“The Southern Temples.”

“Splendid!” Zei exclaimed, moving his gaze from Aang to Y/N. “And you! You, my dear, look just like someone I know. But tell me, where did you get that bō staff? The handiwork is excellent. I haven’t seen such craftsmanship since the siege on Ba Sing Se!”

Y/N flinched, expression cold. “It was a gift from my father.”

“Thank you,” He chuckled nervously, pulling out a pair of callipers. “Now, airbender, what was the primary agricultural product of your people?”

“Uh, are fruit pies an agricultural product?”

Zei muttered something enthusiastically under his breath, jotting something into his journal. No matter how nice the man may have actually been, there was something unnerving about him. It was likely his dissection of people, so loud and enthusiastic. If it weren’t for the complete innocence around him, the kind that reminded her of Aang, Y/N would be pulling her friends out of the door and the desert immediately.

Mood sufficiently ruined, she stalked back to the bar to the bartender who looked at her like she was the prettiest person in there. He seemed glad for the company as well, and as they spoke, she found out more about him; he was just over a year older than her, a non-bender, whose father owned the Oasis after the previous owner died.

“What do you know about the anthropologist over there?” Y/N asked, on her third mango drink; she had come to the conclusion that she was obsessed with the fruit drinks.

“Zei?” Jìngyi scoffed, grinning as he looked over her shoulder. “Harmless, mostly. He’s been scouring the desert for a hidden library for as long as I can remember.”

“Oh, so this spirit has attractive assistants, huh?”

Sokka’s voice was loud, carrying through the building and all the way to the bar. What in Agni’s name was that boy’s problem? Gritting her teeth, she turned to look at Jìngyi, who had an amused smirk on his face.

“What?” Y/N snapped at him, frustratingly only fuelling his amusement. “What is so funny?”

“Oh, it hasn’t clicked yet.”

“What in the Spirits’ names are you on about?”

He barked out a laugh. “You really have no clue, do you?”

About ready to burst, she reached across the bar, grabbing him by the collar. “You’re really pissing me off, and you don’t have the free passes that my friends do.”

“And if I told you that talking to me was annoying your loud friend over there?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

With a subtle glance, Y/N adjusted her glare towards Sokka, confirming Jìngyi’s words. As she went to drop the boy, he instead stopped her, clasping a hand over hers. He leaned in closer to her.

“Are you really gonna let him off that easy?”

Looking at Jìngyi up and down, she grinned for a moment as she considered his words, before dropping him completely. “You make a mean drink, love, but he’s far too nice for me to do that.”

Chortling lowly, the bartender began cleaning the counter, completely unfazed by their small encounter. She didn’t fully understand what had happened – with Sokka that was – but she was clued up enough to be equally amused and flattered at the situation. Perhaps she would’ve considered continuing the conversation if it weren’t for Professor Zei sprinting up to her side and tugging on her arm like a small child begging for a mother’s attention.

“You have a tamed Mongoose Lizard?” He said, eyes glistening with that childish wonder.

“Trained,” Y/N corrected him, eyes colder than the pitiful remains of the Oasis. “I’m assuming I’m to come outside and introduce the two of you.”

“Yes please!”

Sighing, she shot a look to Jìngyi of what could only be pleading, scowling at the response of, “See you later, pretty girl.”

As she was dragged out of the establishment, Y/N found herself already with her bō staff already out. With her sight filled with red, she charged the four sandbenders cornering Appa and Qin, spitting threats at them in their native language just as easily as the menacing looks she was giving. Recognising the one from earlier, she jabbed her staff to his throat quicker than the strike of a heron, pinning him under its end. Hastily, his buddies pulled him backwards and into two sand-sailers, fleeing under the cover of a sand tornado.

“Professor Zei, this is Qin,” Y/N panted, leaning on her staff slightly. “Qin, this is the Professor. Not food.”

Qin huffed as she sniffed the newcomer, him not seeming to mind the fact that such a large reptile was circling him and ready to snap her jaws around him with only a command. He continued to take notes even as she knocked his arm, begging for his full attention.

“Well, now that that’s over,” Sokka interrupted, his mood lower than it was earlier, “Should we find this library?”

TAGLIST: @lunariasilver @maragreene

[fated-lab-partners]

Villains Eviler Than Hordak: Slade

Before we cover the Titans’ most dangerous foe and his manipulative tactics, we need to get some terms straight. Let's start this post off by tackling those pesky misconceptions! 

Threatening someone physically to influence their behavior isn't manipulation, it's coercion. The direct approach; just how Hordak prefers it.   

Hordak's menacing behavior toward Catra was coercive of him, not manipulative. The Horde leader’s intentions were crystal clear to his force captain: failing him again would end poorly for her, period. There was no dancing around this.

Manipulation, on the other hand, consists of subtle behavior and lies that conceal the manipulator's true intentions from their victim. A great example of this would be Slade's tactics in the original Teen Titans cartoon. Particularly, the second season.

Prior to season 2, Slade utilized coercion against Robin, the one he desired as his apprentice. He had to inject dangerous, remote-activated nanoscopic probes into the other Titans' bloodstreams so Robin would obey his every command, regardless of the boy’s animosity against him.

Having said that, Slade attempted a form of manipulation called gaslighting on his reluctant apprentice.

“I monitored your vital signs during the mission. Elevated heart rate, adrenaline, endorphins. You won't admit it, but at some level, you enjoyed stealing for me. It was a thrill, wasn't it?” - Slade, Apprentice - Part 2

This was Slade attempting to make Robin question his reality. In truth, the Titan did not enjoy committing crimes for his worst enemy. Endorphins are also released on account of pain or stress, not just pleasure. But Slade omitted said fact. He wanted Robin to doubt himself.

In any case, coercion worked best on Robin. Slade could not manipulate him emotionally.

And now, season 2!

Enter Terra [Episode 16 - Terra], a teenage girl with destructive geokinetic powers that the Titans encounter in the desert, a huge honking scorpion hot on her trail. She smashes the monstrous thing and introduces herself to our heroes, whom insist she crash at their place upon finding out she sleeps in caves. An infatuated Beast Boy is keen on the idea.

Terra enjoys her stay at Titan's Tower. The Titans even consider letting her move in and join the team, once they find out what she can do at one of their training routines. Unbeknownst to them, she can't control her powers properly. Because of this, she'd rather run away, but Beast Boy - after discovering her secret - convinces her to stick around. Her imperfect control is no big deal in his eyes. He and his friends would never reject someone over that. All the same, she'd rather he not tell the others. She begs him to promise her he won't say anything. The changeling gives Terra his word.

Following their heartfelt conversation, and training time at an obstacle course, Slade rears his ugly head! The Titans track their greatest foe's location, then move out, Terra right beside them.

They storm a mine full of Slade bots and jump into action. During the chaos, Terra is separated from the others, and finds herself alone with Slade while her friends are distracted. The mastermind starts manipulating her throughout their fight.

Terra: Back off! I'm with the Titans! They'll be coming to-

Slade: You don't belong with the Titans. 

Terra: You don't know anything about me!

Slade: On the contrary, Terra - I know everything about you. I've been watching you for some time. I know why you're always running away. I know your secret, little girl.

Terra: No!

Slade: Earthquakes, avalanches, mudslides... Everywhere you go, you try to do good. And everywhere, you fail. So everyone turns against you. You lack control, Terra. And when you lose control, you are more dangerous than anything I've ever seen. 

[He is weaponizing Terra’s experiences here by turning them into generalizations. Sure, people have hurt her - he is not wrong - but the Titans would not have rejected Terra due to her lack of control. Not everyone feared or hated her.]

This scene with the hair-clip is very manipulative as well. This “gentle” action is obviously meant to lower Terra’s guard, and make her think he is being “tender.”

Slade: But it doesn't have to be this way. I can help you, child. [He wants to help himself.]

Terra: You can?

Slade: Right now, you are rough around the edges. You need more than obstacles courses to overcome your problem. You need a teacher. A mentor. Come with me, Terra. And I can teach you to shine. 

Terra: But... My friends told me you're-

Slade: You don't really believe they're your friends, do you, Terra? [The mastermind is good at making Terra doubt herself. Also, he kept the conversation focused on her.]

Terra: They took me in. Gave me a home.

Slade: And when they find out what's wrong with you, they'll reject you, like everyone else. 

Terra: Beast Boy-

Slade: Can't keep his mouth shut forever. He'll tell them. [Slade has known the Titans longer than she has. He used that fact to mischaracterize Beast Boy, and got away with it.]

Terra: He promised! 

Slade: He lied. [Slade is the liar. Beast Boy never revealed her secret.]

Terra: Shut up! Just shut up and leave me alone!

Terra: Don't lose control! Don't lose control!

Slade: Now, Terra; how can you lose something you never had. [Gaslighting: If Terra had zero control, she would always be destroying her surroundings. She has some control.]

Slade: No one else understands you, Terra. No one else can help you. I'll be waiting. [He wants to isolate her.]

Beast Boy finds Terra, embraces her, and holds her in his arms, calming the geokinetic girl down. He repeats his promise once more. 

We transition back to Titans Tower, where Terra is standing beside a door. The Titans have a surprise for her: they want her to stay with them, and become an official Titan! Robin gives her a Titans Communicator of her own.

Terra looks as if she's going to say yes. But then, Robin tells her she'll need more training, since she has trouble controlling her powers. That they can help her.

The communicator falls from Terra's grasp. She faces Beast Boy, a betrayed look on her face.

Terra: You told him?!

Beast Boy: I didn't!

Terra: You promised. You lied to me! You lied!

Terra runs away, that doubt Slade preyed on back in the mine stoking her emotions. In reality, Robin figured out the truth by himself. Her performance at the obstacle course clued him in. Unfortunately, she left before he could explain himself.

Terra turns her back on genuine friends and seeks out Slade instead. The cruel man who doesn’t actually care about her. Who wants to use her as a weapon.

He won.

“Who else would have you, my dear? You’ve done horrible things. Unforgivable things. Where else could you possibly go?” Slade basically attempting to keep Terra isolated, Aftershock - Part 2

In conclusion, Hordak never manipulated anyone. If anything, he was quite vulnerable to those tactics. He believed Catra's lies, and Double Trouble spilled the beans about Entrapta without turning Hordak's wrath on themself.

Slade's actions are what manipulation looks like.

[thepancakeboi]

34. “We live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.”

Spending the holidays with someone else is not something I am used to. Years and years of being alone will do that to a person. Yet here I am, spending Christmas with my fiance, Ren. I couldn’t ask for a better way to celebrate Christmas.

Even if I can already predict that said fiance will be more of a menace than usual.

It isn’t our first Christmas together, of course, but this is the first time we will be celebrating it as more than boyfriends. It’s also the first time it’ll be just the two of us. Ann has continuously texted me how she was spending the holiday season with Shiho (images included), Yusuke and Ryuji are at the latter’s home, and I think I remember Ren telling me how Haru was planning on taking Makoto somewhere fancy. Even Morgana isn’t going to be home, deciding the idea of being with Sojiro, Futaba, and Sumire is a better way to spend his time. I suspect that Futaba had also bribed him with sushi. Not that I am about to complain about his absence.

I arrive home after some last-minute shopping to find Ren sprawled out on the couch, absentmindedly batting at the white pompom of the Santa hat he’s wearing. He looks up and immediately grins. “Akeppi!” he says, happy as can be.

“Someone’s being quite productive with his time,” I remark sarcastically.

“Hey, I’ve been very busy.”

“Doing what? Acting like the cat of the house since Morgana isn’t around to fill that role?”

“No.” He pauses for a moment to think before a mischievous smirk crosses his face. Standing up to approach me, he continues, “I’ve been checking the naughty and nice list...and you’ve been very naughty.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, his smirk widening as he notices my blush. His head is tilted down and he looks seductively up at me from under his glasses. Damn, he looks beautiful. It takes me a few seconds to finally respond, “Ren, you’re not Santa.”

“Am I not?”

“No, you’re not, and if anyone’s being the naughty one, it’s you.”

“Oh. Guess I better take this off,” he adds. He casually tosses the hat to the side and pulls a sprig of mistletoe seemingly out of thin air.

“Ren, no.”

He holds the mistletoe over our heads, looking quite smug. “Kith kith?”

Of course, he wants a kiss. Of course. “That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

“Come on. Humor me, Akeppi.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “Fine, but only because you’re-”

Ren doesn’t even give me a chance to finish. He has his invitation and he’s taking it before I can change my mind. Not that I would have, mind you. He finally pulls away after several seconds, although I can tell he doesn’t really want to. I know how he is. Given the opportunity, he would keep kissing me all day. “Can I have another?”

“Not with that piece of mistletoe, you’re not.” He pouts a little as I take the mistletoe away from him. Other than that, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

In retrospect, perhaps that should have clued me in that something was up.

Ren follows me as I go to throw away the mistletoe. Just as soon as I do, he says, “Hey, Akeppi.”

“What is it, Ren?”

“Look up.”

My gaze follows the direction of his pointing to see a piece of mistletoe identical to the first one hanging from the ceiling. I sigh, resigning myself to whatever game Ren is playing. “Let me guess. You want another kiss.”

“Yup!”

“Very well. One kiss.”

He immediately pulls me into a much more passionate kiss than before. This time, I’m the one to pull away first. He doesn’t seem to care; in fact, he’s grinning happily at his success.

Satisfied, Ren begins to prepare a cake for later tonight. When I offer to help, he says, “No. We all know what happened last time.”

“It wasn’t that terrible of an incident.”

“You nearly set Leblanc on fire!”

“You’re overexaggerating,” I grumble. “It was a small fire.”

“No it wasn’t, you liar!” he replies, laughing at my expense. I hate that he’s right. We both remember that day all too well. Sojiro, needless to say, was not pleased when he found out. “If you really want to help, can you go get me the flour? At least you can’t cause a fire doing that.”

“Maybe I will just to spite you.”

“Go ahead. It won’t be hotter than the fire that is my love for you.”

“Of course, you would.” He snickers as I turn around to get the flour. I decide that the flour will remain fire-free today. As I turn to give it to him, I notice there’s yet another piece of mistletoe that had definitely not been there a few seconds ago. “You have to be joking.”

He looks up in clearly fake surprise at the mistletoe. “Does that mean I get another kiss?”

“I suppose so.” This kiss is decidedly shorter than the others, almost as if he’s teasing me with it. I refuse to acknowledge the fact that I wish he would have kissed me longer. I will not be the one who asks him for a kiss. No way.

The time passes by rather quickly. Just being in Ren’s presence tends to do that. He finally is done with the prep work and leaves it to finish baking. He then takes my hand in his as he leads me out of the kitchen. However, he suddenly stops and glances up. I don’t even need to look to know what it is. “Ren-”

“Yeah?”

“This is becoming ridiculous.”

“What is?”

“How much mistletoe did you hang around the house?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I did no such thing.”

“Ren, we live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.”

“Could’ve been Morgana.”

“Morgana hasn’t been here all day, and I know when I left this morning, there was no mistletoe whatsoever. How many are there?”

“Um...a few?”

“A few,” I repeat, my slight annoyance probably showing. I’m starting to get tired of this game. “This is the fourth one so far.”

“You’re wrong. It’s the third.”

“No, it’s four.”

“Three. I was holding the first one.”

“Whatever,” I reply, refusing to admit he’s right. “You just have to be a menace, don’t you?”

Cue immediate menace smile from Ren. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

“You want a kiss? Fine.” I don’t know where my impulsiveness is coming from, but before I know it, my lips are pressed against his, fingers tangled in his fluffy hair.

The kiss is, for lack of better words, messy. I’m not the one to usually take the initiative nor did I think my actions through. But when I pull back, it’s worth seeing the complete shock on Ren’s blushing face. He didn’t see that coming. “Did you...want to kiss me?”

“No, of course not.”

He smirks, seeing right through my lie. “You did too,” he hums, wrapping his arms around me so that I can’t walk away like I normally would.

“You have no proof.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss this time. You kissed me.”

“So what? It’s clear you wanted a kiss.”

“You never kiss me unless you want to.”

“That’s not the case.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I always am wanting to kiss you!” I blurt before I can stop myself. Oh, how the tables have turned. “You did not hear that from me.”

“Did too. You said you want to kiss me all the time.” He leans in closer as he whispers softly in my ear, “I could kiss you again...if you want.”

“I...guess I could allow it.”

“No, no.” His voice lowers into that sexy tone of his as he asks again, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“...Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Alright, yes! I do.”

Pleased with my response, he cups my face in his hands before kissing me. I don’t want the moment to end. Unfortunately, breathing is a necessity for life. “Do you wanna cuddle?” Ren asks.

“Why? Is there more mistletoe I don’t know about yet?”

“There...might be a few more.”

I shake my head, chuckling at the response. Of course, he had more than I’ve seen. That doesn’t matter anymore. I find myself wanting to find the remaining ones, but that can wait. “We can cuddle, yes.”

People say it’s best to spend the holidays with someone you love. Before, I would have laughed at the notion. It would have sounded foolish. But now that I’m here in Ren’s arms, I suddenly see how true it is. There really is no other way I would rather spend Christmas than with my beautiful menace.

Prompt list  Also based on this post

[bigskydreaming]

Scott “I am an alpha! You have no idea what I can do!” McCall is not a victim of his peers and he doesn’t have a low self-esteem, lol. In fact, Scott actively mocks, uses, violates, and dehumanizes others and assaults his peers out of jealousy in the actual show. Stop trying to paint Scott as some sort of poor mistreated wooby who’s too good and kind for his evil ungrateful friends please

Hey thanks for the spite-writing session, y’know, that thing I told you last time was literally the only thing I had to say to you about anything ever.....the way you just....inspire me to write TW fic about what I like and not cater to your obsessive need to fight over your staggeringly dishonest takes, because lololol you really just do not matter?

Anyway, so here’s what I just wrote for the next chapter of my fic WWTA, that I’ve been struggling to get back into, so thanks for the motivation! I think this chapter has like, three more scenes in it, in case you’ve got any more pointless annoying messages you want to send me, to like, help me out with the energy to write those too! 

*****

Chapter Five

Freshmen were kind of adorable, Allison decided a week into the mentoring program. At least that was something.

The way Liam lit up as she and her friends made their way to the freshmen down the hall was particularly endearing. She had to keep her glare from surfacing and pinning Brett against the lockers he leaned against, right beside Liam, Mason, Garrett and Violet. What had begun as a way to repay the debt she felt to Scott while still doing her duty had quickly graduated to true protective instincts for the young teenagers. A slight shudder ran through her body as she remembered the gashes across Scott’s chest and the defeat in his eyes -

- none of us wanted this, but it happened and we’re stuck now -

No. That would not be happening to Liam and his friends. Not on her watch.

“Hello children. And how is everyone this morning?”

Lydia made even her casual greetings a regal proclamation. It was with no small amount of amusement that Allison watched the freshmen war between their instinctive reaction to being labeled ‘children’ and their awe at being on first names basis with the undisputed queen of Beacon Hills High. This was all wildly against the natural order of things. Her eyes drifted in Brett’s direction to find his narrowed at her, and her good humor evaporated. Ugh. Why couldn’t she ever have nice things?

“Everyone’s coming to my place after school, right? Your first archery lessons!” Allison cut in before any of the freshmen could muster a response to Lydia.  Brett flinched, and a dangerous grin worked its way across her lips. She might not be the only predator interested in these kids, but she could damn well make sure her competition knew she was bringing claws of her own to the fight.

“For sure!” Liam enthused. “I still can’t believe you know how to shoot a bow and arrow. And your parents are really cool with you teaching us?”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Allison shrugged. In truth, it hadn’t been. Even if her father might have had slight reservations, Grandpa Gerard had practically salivated at the notion of her starting a How To Kill Werewolves 101 course for local teens. He was already planning how to use this to start recruiting new hunters from Allison’s handpicked group. She wasn’t about to let things get that far, but Brett didn’t need to know that. Let him worry.

“I still don’t think Allison’s parents are the only ones who should have been informed of this little extracurricular,” Danny said. “Isn’t this the kind of thing that should require signed consent forms from everyone’s parents?”

“Oh, live a little Danny,” Allison said. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“No, but the sharp pointy sticks might hurt their kids, and then there are these things called lawsuits…”

“Don’t be such a Danny Downer,” Stiles said. He clapped their friend on the back, but his eyes were on her. “I’m sure Allison knows exactly what she’s doing.”

She smirked back.

“I can’t make it,” Brett spoke up at last, sparking cries of complaint from his ‘friends.’

“What the hell man, I thought we were all gonna do this?”

As much as Allison hated to admit it, she wasn’t sure she did know what she was doing though. She had her work cut out for her in trying to drive a wedge between Liam and Brett. The younger boy had latched onto the sophomore as a confidant before they’d gotten their mentoring program up and running, and Brett’s claws were already in deep. Liam idolized the kid, and it didn’t help that whatever she might know about the pack’s true nature, to everyone else they were simply the cool, mysterious bad-asses that everyone secretly wanted to know more about.

“Got stuff to deal with at home,” was all the taller boy said, deliberately vague. She considered that. Was he just trying to get out of going to a hunter’s house - not that she’d ever expected he’d show, really - or was that code for the pack would be up to something later?

“Family stuff?” Allison asked casually.

“More like chores at the group home I live at. My family’s dead,” Brett retorted. She wondered if anyone else picked up on the bitter menace underscoring his calm tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How could you? It’s not like peoples’ families being murdered by burning their houses down around them is an everyday thing. Who would ever think that was a thing that happened as often as it does?”

“Jesus,” Mason whispered in horror. The other freshmen looked as sick as she felt suddenly, and she felt her own friends shuffle uncomfortably behind her. That hadn’t come up in her research at all, but she didn’t doubt for a second that the werewolf was being truthful. The naked pain in his eyes was entirely too human for that.

“I didn’t know,” Allison repeated again. It wasn’t an excuse, it was just all she had. He snorted.

“Whatever. I’ve gotta go. Be careful with them, yeah?”

She bit her lip and nodded, wondering how much he really knew about what she was doing. Had Scott clued in any of his pack about her plans? He’d seemed protective of Brett, and the younger boy seemed to be one of the ones who followed his lead over Cora’s, but who knew how pack politics really worked…god, could she just have five complete moments to feel on top of things and not totally in over her head?

“Damn,” Violet said once Brett had disappeared around a corner in the hall. “I mean, I knew he was an orphan too, but I didn’t know he had…shit.”

“Well, he probably doesn’t advertise because he doesn’t want people gossiping about it,” Allison said. Jackson and Danny nodded in agreement, the freshmen looking thoughtful, but Lydia and Stiles were both just watching her, the same as they’d been through she and Brett’s entire little tété-a-tété. Feeling an abrupt need to be elsewhere, she chose the better part of valor and fled. “Look, I gotta get going too, but you all have directions, right? See you after school!”

Weak, Allison.

She circled the school, doing a lap across the quad and around the outer edges of the buildings to calm herself. Almost predictably at this point, her efforts were thwarted by the appearance of one Scott McCall sitting cross-legged on the grass behind the Liberal Arts building.

[dearlazerbunny]

Can I have Kylo for fluff alphabet please? Thank you!

All of them?! I mean if you ~insist~

(Alphabet prompt here)

Kylo x Reader Fluff ABCs 💜

Activities: Free time is scarce, so he’ll mostly visit you at night when the two of you can curl up in bed, watch the stars, and talk about anything and everything. Technically it’s always night in space, but when he’s with you the black seems to dim a little, and the stars shine brighter. It’s the best sort of night, the ones that make you think there are as many possibilities as there are planets in the sky.

Beauty: Kylo LOVES your smile. You smile so easily, whereas he can count on one hand the number of times he’s smiled in the pas year- each time because of you. And he still has to remind himself how to breathe anytime he makes you smile.

Comfort: He’s excellent at holding you close and just letting you cry it out, running his fingers through your hair, and keeping his lips pressed to the top of your head so you know he’s there. Sometimes he’ll tell stories- the same ones his mother told him, about adventures in space and good defeating evil and how hope makes the universe turn. He doesn’t know if he believes in those old stories anymore- but he knows you do.

Dreams: Somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from any war or light side and dark side and Jedis and metal monstrosities that destroy planets on a whim. It’d be a simple house- maybe in a forest, set away from a tiny village- with just enough space for the two of you and maybe... maybe a child. The three of you would lie in the tall grass- a little boy or girl tugging on his mother’s clothes and giggling at the feeling of the dirt beneath his feet- and tell new stories. Because now he doesn’t need those old stories telling him about light and hope- he has his own, sitting right in front of him.

Equal: Kylo is not used to someone standing up to him and calling him on his bullshit. Kylo cannot remember the last time someone called him “Ky” without having a rather vicious meeting with the glowing end of his lightsaber. Kylo definitely isn’t used to someone being in his personal space- a touch on his arm, holding hands, a leg wrapped around his when the two of you are in bed. He might a six-foot-something menace in all black and a scary sword, but you have an infinite amount of little ways of telling him that he is not the boss of you. Period.

Fight: Fighting is loud- there’s a good amount of yelling and stomping around. Most of it stems from insecurities: he can’t get it out of his head that you aren’t going to drop him on a whim someday when you realize how broken he is; you hate that he’s constantly diving headfirst into a war where you can’t do anything to protect him. One night, after a particularly horrible bout, you voice the idea that the insecurities get smaller when the trust gets bigger. So now, any argument, big or small, is only over when the two of you can look at each other and honestly say, “I trust you.”

Gratitude: He knows you’re doing... something, but he doesn’t really realize how much until one day he’s sitting with you, your fingers intertwined, laughing at something ridiculously stupid and only funny to the two of you, and he’s looking at you and how your eyes sparkle when you laugh and he notices he hasn’t heard any of the voices in his head since you started giggling. He’ll tell you later- he wants to hear your laugh for just a little bit longer.

Honesty: Kylo definitely keeps secrets- mostly his fears. He’s scared you’ll leave him, that one day you’ll walk away and won’t come back. He wants a future with you- not just a future, but an endgame- and every day it seems less and less likely. He worries he isn’t what you deserve. He’s scared he’ll hurt you accidentally; he’s terrified he’ll hurt you intentionally. He’s never told you any of this, but the funny thing is- you kind of already know.

Inspiration: You’ve changed him for the better, and keep doing so every day. Much like the realization from Gratitude, he won’t quite know the extent of it until one day it smacks him in the face and he finally thinks, oh.

Jealousy: Yes, and it’s something the two of you have to work on. Constantly. To his credit, he went from hunting down one of your work friends in the middle of the night after he gave you a hug in the mess hall to (occasionally) haltingly and frustratingly voicing his feelings. It’s progress, and you’re willing to stick by him for however long it takes.

Kiss: Your first kiss was incredibly tentative, soft, and barely there. You weren’t quite sure it even had happened, except Kylo’s look of absolute shock clued you in that it very much did. Then about five seconds later you realized that was probably Kylo’s first kiss. Ever. He doesn’t really get it at first- he’s stiff and awkward and at one point frustratingly blurted out ‘but what do I do with my hands.’ He’s much better now. Practice makes perfect after all, and let’s be real, kissing this man is a hardship you are more than willing to bear.

Love Confession: He wanders into your room one night, antsy and agitated and very thrown off by... something. You don’t know what, because he refuses to tell you- just paces your room clenching and unclenching his fists while you desperately try to figure out what’s wrong. Eventually, he faces you, bewildered, looks you dead in the eye, and says I love you- which spirals you into a cacophony of relief, giddiness, happiness, and laughter all in about five second’s time. While he’s looking put out from you laughing at him, you kiss him on the lips once... twice... and say, I know.

Marriage: He thinks he’d like to marry you someday. It’d be simple- you’d carry a bouquet of wildflowers, maybe with some braided in your hair as well. The rings would both be a beautiful smoky grey, and yours has a small piece of his kyber crystal set in the center. He doesn’t know who would be there... Hux? The two of you are friends. The people you work with... well, they don’t know about you. He knows it’s impossible, but he always pictures his mother there too, to give you away.

Nicknames: Kylo isn’t really one for nicknames. You call him Ky, love, babe when you want to get a rise out of him- but every so often, in the dead of night, when you’re half asleep and not quite sure if you’re dreaming it, he’ll pull you close and whisper my queen before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

On Cloud Nine: Nobody knows. Not a single soul. Have you seen that man’s poker face? Hux and Phasma can guess something is up, but that something being ‘Kylo Ren in love’ is so far out of the realm of possibility that it doesn’t even make the top 101 Things That Might Be Going On With Ren. You think it’s hilarious, and also kind of sweet- he saves that side of himself for you and you only.

PDA: See the above. PDA is not a thing with him, for a multitude of reasons: he has an image to maintain, he doesn't want you to get hurt if potentially being used against him, he simply doesn’t know how to initiate such things. You respect his want for privacy- you don’t want to be rumor mill fodder either. But on the very few occasions you find yourselves out and alone together, you’ll give him a peck on the mask where his cheek would be. That’s enough for you.

Quirk: I don’t know if the Force counts as a quirk, but it definitely makes you laugh when he decides to do stupid party tricks in an effort to cheer you up (think Aang and his marble trick in A:TLA 😂). In the back of your mind, you can’t help but imagine him doing the same innocent magic tricks to the delight of your son or daughter someday.

Romantic: He’s romantic while having no sense of traditional romance. If you mention a favorite flower, there’ll be a vase of them in your room the next day. When you tease him for doing something sweet, he just looks baffled. “You said you liked these. So I procured some. You’re welcome?” The fact that he doesn’t get how much his gestures actually mean makes them that much sweeter.

Support: Kylo thinks you could probably end this whole war single-handed if they plopped you down in the middle of the battlefield. Not that he’d ever test that theory. But if someone has the capability of making him start thinking of things like a future, they have more power in their fist than he does with the entirety of the Force.

Thrill: Considering this is all still fairly new to Kylo, even something like kissing the back of his hand sends him into shutdown mode for a second or two. You’re taking it slow. It took him a whole two months to even get used to the idea of holding hands on the regular.

Understanding: Kylo worries this is an area he’s lacking in. What he doesn’t know is that he instinctively knows when you need a hug, picks up on your moods before you even know what that mood is, and often knows what you’re thinking before you say it. He doesn’t think highly enough of himself to say that he knows someone as wonderful as you so intimately, but the truth is he’s pretty much got you on lock.

Value: You are everything. If he knew there would be no repercussions, and you’d be safe, he would drop everything and move to that little house in the forest with you, War, Skywalkers, and Snoke be damned. At some point, he stopped fighting this war to rid himself of his past and started fighting it so that you and he might have a future.

Wild Card: You have a tendency to pull hair whenever you get really frustrated, so Kylo offered to let you play with his instead- obviously, you are infinitely more careful with him than you are yourself. This eventually morphed into you being able to craft Disney-princess-worthy braids and updos with his hair. Sometimes he’ll let you tuck a flower in it if he really wants to see you laugh.

XOXO: This poor man is touch s t a r v e d. The second you start being physically affectionate with him, he never wants you to stop- laying by his side, holding your hand, playing with his hair, wrapping himself around you. Not that anyone outside of the two of you would have any idea.

Yearning: You aren’t a Force user, but you’re connected to the point where when he’s away on a mission, he can send you a thought or a feeling to let you know he’s thinking of you. More than once you’ve felt the slight sensation of his fingers on your cheek or him walking beside you, even though he’s lightyears away.

Zeal: if you and Luke Skywalker were standing side by side, and he could only reach one of you, he’d grab you by the hand, start running, and never let go.

[onewfantaesy]

Spooktober prompt: Vampires

So AU where vampires are a very real threat, but they’re more so a menace. Their bite is very much like a mosquito bite: it doesn’t do much harm other than leave a very itchy bump afterwards.

“Man, these mosquitos are killer,” Taemin complains one day, scratching at a large bite in his neck. “Every week! I thought they were only a summer pest?”

Kibum, Taemin’s boss, just stares at Taemin and sighs, leaning against the cubicle wall.

“Taemin,” he says slowly, shaking his head. “Are you really that oblivious?”

“What?” Taemin asks, turning in his chair to look at him. “Did I forgot to send an email or something?”

“That’s not a mosquito bite, dumbass, it’s a vampire bite,” Kibum tells him. Then, from the cubicle behind him, they hear Minho poorly conceal a snort.

“What?” Taemin laughs. “No it’s not. It’s just a mosquito-”

“Every Friday, you come in with a new bite,” Kibum tells him. “Every Friday, you come in with a giant vampire bite that you scratch at incessantly all day, and it’s gone by Monday. Just like a vampire bite. And then on Friday you get a new one.”

“That makes no sense-”

“So something you’re doing every Thursday night either puts you in the direct path of vampires, or one of your friends is a vampire and you’re too oblivious to realize it,” Minho chimes in.

“Every Thursday I go to happy hour with you losers,” Taemin scoffs. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“It’s not us,” Kibum laughs. “It must be one of your friends.”

“That’s impossible,” Taemin says, crossing his arms. “Vampires have to tell you they’re vampires.”

“No they don’t,” Minho snorts. “Who told you that?”

“It’s like, a law!” Taemin argues. “They have to tell you!”

“They’re not cops,” Kibum laughs. “They dont have to tell you anything.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a law.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re just oblivious,” Kibum teases. “Tell me your Thursday schedule. Where do you go?”

“I go to work. I go to happy hour. I go home,” Taemin says, waving his arms and making weird hand gestures. “So unless someone here is a vampire, it’s just a mosquito bite.”

“Next week’s happy hour is at Taemin’s house!” Kibum announces.

“That’s stupid!” Taemin whines. “My roommate-”

“Is probably a vampire.”

“Jinki is not a vampire, he would have told me.”

“Are you so sure?”

“I can’t have happy hour at my apartment,” Taemin whines. “You guys are insane.”

“I’ll bring wine,” Kibum says, patting Taemin’s shoulder to go back to his own cubicle.

“It’s just a mosquito bite!”

The next Thursday, Taemin somehow managed to take a wrong turn on his way to his own apartment, so he’s the last one to show up. So when he’s walking up the steps and unlocking the door, his entire team is snickering behind him: Kibum, Minho, Baekhyun, and Taeyong.

“Hey Jinki!” Taemin calls, tripping over the threshold. “My work friends are here for happy hour!”

“Oh, right, hi,” Jinki, Taemin’s roommate, greets from the couch. He even waves his hand a little.

“We’re gonna order pizza, you want any?” Taemin asks, clearing off the table to put the wine and beer and all the different glasses down.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jinki says, going to help Taemin get the clean wine glasses and beer glasses down from the cupboard. “Just, ya know, remember no garlic.”

“Oh! Right,” Taemin gasps, then turns to glare at his snickering coworkers. “Jinki’s just allergic, you dicks.”

Jinki raises an eyebrow, gently setting the wine glasses on the table.

“They think you’re a vampire,” Taemin says, snorting.

“Uh, Taemin?” Jinki says carefully. “I am a vampire.”

“What?”

Everyone else starts laughing loudly, but Taemin is just genuinely confused. Jinki looks just as confused as he does.

“But you never told me!” Taemin accuses. “Vampires have to tell people they’re vampires!”

“Uh, no they don’t?” Jinki asks. “But I did tell you. It was literally in the ad for this apartment.”

“No it wasn’t?”

“I said you had to be vampire-friendly,” Jinki says slowly.

“I mean, I thought you just meant not being prejudiced,” Taemin stammers. “And I’m not!”

“I also said that you had to be cool with me drinking once a week,” Jinki says. “That if you were cool with me drinking from you it was a huge plus?”

Taemin is just stammering and stuttering and not able to find the right words.

“I said B-positive blood type was preferred. That alone should have clued you in,” Jinki says, sitting down at the table and holding up his chin in his hand.

“I thought you meant like, just being a positive person!” Taemin cries, and the others are all cackling and laughing at him. “I thought it was slang!”

“You are B-positive though, funnily enough,” Jinki laughs. But then he becomes rather serious and sits straight up. “Taemin, I’ve asked you every week since you moved in if I could drink from you. Every Thursday. And you always say yes.”

“I don’t remember this at all!”

“Thursdays are also always happy hour day,” Kibum says, tapping his chin as he stirs his wine. “Just how sober is he when he gets home?”

Then it’s Jinki’s turn to stutter and turn to Taemin and say, “You do always drink more when you get home. But - but we had an agreement! It’s in the lease!”

“I didn’t read the lease!” Taemin whines. “And I don’t get that drunk!”

“I wouldn’t - I would never just drink from someone without permission,” Jinki says quickly, looking at all of them. “I have blood bags just in case he says no, but he’s never - he always says yes! I thought he knew!”

“Oh,” Taemin suddenly says very quietly, very softly. And his cheeks turn bright pink and he sucks in a gasp of a breath. “Is that when we - um - when we, uh - in your room-”

“Uh-huh,” Jinki says just as quickly.

“Oh.”

Taemin’s entire face, neck, and ears are bright pink. Jinki doesn’t look half as embarrassed as he is, but it’s clear he doesn’t like talking about it in front of so many people.

“What did I tell you?” Kibum laughs, clapping a hand on Taemin’s shoulder. “Oblivious. You’ve been screwing a vampire and you didn’t even know it!”

“We do not screw!” Taemin squeaks.

“Are we getting pizza?” Jinki asks quickly, rising from the table to go look through their drawer of takeout and delivery menus.

And they don’t screw. Not at all. They just makeout for a while, both of them usually a little tipsy and a little more than happy to lay in Jinki’s bed and just cuddle for a while. The first time Jinki ever drank from him, Taemin actually thought it was a weird hickey.

Kibum gives him shit for it at work for at least another month. But every time he comes in with a vampire bite now, it’s somehow so much more embarrassing. He wonders if he can get Jinki to switch to drinking on Fridays instead.

[underatedcharactersunite]

A Tale of Two Souls; Meeting Jaskier

Summary; As Geralt and Y/N continue to journey to their next location, they come across a Bard named Jaskier. From that moment onwards, Y/N's life is turned upside down. Her life is no longer envolving around fighting Monsters and exploring the world. Jaskier draws out emotions that she buried a long time ago. Who knows what's going to happen.  Pairing; Jaskier X Female Reader WordCount; 3,234 Warnings; A couple of swear words. Angst, Fluff 

Series Masterlist

Travelling with Geralt was a unique experience. On one hand, it was extremely rewarding, being able to travel to many beautiful and adventurous places, on the other hand, it often entitled getting covered in some sort of creature guts.

Apart from that Geralt's company was rather pleasant. Contrary to people's opinions about Witcher's; Geralt was not heartless nor a Monster instead, he could be kind and often put other's before himself. Over the years, Geralt had become like a brother to you, a very overprotective, menacing brother, who would willingly kill anyone, who ventured to mess with you.

"The Tavern is not too far from here. We will stop and have a drink." Looking ahead as you rode on your horse Tarot, Geralt was right, in the faint distance you could make out the Taverns silhouette.

"You mean I'll drink one while you attempt to drink the entire Tavern dry." You taunted. You were fortunate with Geralt, while he was not a massive talker, he was never easily offended. So ridiculing between the two of you was light and playful.

"You should learn to be quicker if you want more than one cup." Grinning, the two of you proceeded in silence as you made your way up towards the Tavern.

Entering any location with Geralt always had to be approached with caution. Any stranger was a potential contender for inherent conflict. The ancient tales of Witcher's had left everyone with a bitter attitude. People will often quick to require Geralt's services, yet the moment he entered the territory they deemed theirs they suddenly. considered it their right to throw stones and insults.

It occurred almost every location, the two of you visited. It disturbed you how willingly they were to ask Geralt to kill the Monster, but the second he required a place to eat or sleep they wanted nothing to do with him.

Tying up Roach and Tarot, you pressed a loving pet on Tarot's head. In the background, you could some sort of music a bard trying to get paid perhaps. Entering the Tavern, your suspicions were correct. As long as he frained an attempt to bother the two of you, he would be fine.

Taking a seat at the table in the darkest corner that was spare. You called the women over who was passing out the beverages. It was easier for you to ask, less eventuality for conflict. Removing two from her tray, you presented her with some coin to pay for them.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Geralt, I thought we already spoke of this. We take turns in paying for things. We are equal in this friendship. That means paying for things equally." Taking a sip of your mead, you acknowledged your surroundings. The Tavern wasn't all too bad. You and Geralt had frequented worst places, this by far was one of the finer ones.

"We'll have these and then go, try and find a place to camp for the night." You nodded, staying in one place was never a particularly wise idea. Besides, while the two of you stopped anyway, the two of you weren't able to find anyone who needed your services. 

Meanwhile, the Bard continued to sing. Unlike most Bards you previously encountered, this one could sing. His voice soothed your aching mind as you focused on the mead in the cup in front of you. The regulars who frequented the Tavern didn't seem to match with your opinions as they very quickly began to chuck bread rolls at him.

You attempted to force down the laughter that strived to leave your lips. Geralt's eyebrow raised as you forced your cup onto your lips to stifle your laughter. It was all fun and games, until out of the corner of your eye did you witness the Bard travel across the room over to you both.

"I love how you sit in the corner and brood, am I interrupting something?" The Bard questioned as you glanced over to Geralt. You had observed the expression on his unreadable face many times before. If only the Bard was as clued onto Geralt as you were. 

"We do not wish to be disturbed." Geralt explained, turning his head away from the Bard, while you decided to take a proper glance at him.

The Bard's eyes were a gorgeous shade of grey contrast to his brown hair which framed his face attractively. You didn't miss the thick patch of chest hair that threatened to escape his peaking from his jacket. Overall, the Bard was attractive.

"Good, yeah good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance. Except you two. Come on, you don't wanna keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less." Observing Geralt's signature eye roll, you knew the Bard was going to deal with Geralt's coldness.

The bard seemed unphased as he took the seat right next to you, anxiously anticipating Geralt's thoughts. Geralt was unpredictable, and you had no sign on how was going to reply to the Bard.

"They don't exist."

"What doesn't exist?" The Bard appeared genuinely confused, but you knew exactly the point Geralt was about to make. Taking a sip of the mead as you observed the conversation unfold. The conversation unfolding in front of your very eyes had been the most entertaining one you'd encountered in a while.

"The creatures in your song."

"Yeah, and how would you know.” 

"Oh fun, white hair, Big old loner, two very very scary looking swords. I know who you are." As Geralt stood to remove himself from the Bard, you quickly understood it was time to go. Picking up your sword and your bag, you threw it over your shoulder and followed Geralt.

"You're the Witcher? Geralt of Rivia. So if you're Geralt, then you must be Y/N, the enchanting Shieldmaiden. I must say words cannot truly describe your beauty. Called it!"

Within moments, you recognised that while the Bard was gifted in singing and flattery, digression was not one of his gifts. A simple rest top turned into work. One of the patrons named Netty, needed a Devil killing who was stealing their grain. Knowing well enough that the creature they had witnessed was not actually "The Devil" you didn't know quite what you meant to be searching for.

Walking besides Tarot, you followed Geralt quietly. At least the two of you had seemed to rid yourself of the Bard. Although the damage had been done. You presumed it was better than having stones thrown at you, or being chucked out. Besides a job is a job after all.

"Need a hand. I've got two, one for each of the Devil's horns." Out of no-where, the Bard came running down the hill. Perhaps walking away was not a distinct enough hint that Geralt was not willing for company.

"Go away."

"I won't be but a silent backup. Look I heard your note, and yes maybe real adventures would make better stories and you Sir smell choc-full of them amongst other things. I mean what is that Onion, it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

"It's onion."

"Right yeah. Oh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken. What about you, my sweet lady? Surely you could tell me the many tales that the two of you have shared."

"Geralt it appears you have finally have a fan. Road life does not place well for a Bard. Go back to the Tavern. We'll deal with "the Devil"

"Jaskier, my name is Jaskier." Giving Jaskier a gentle smile, you quickened your step.

"It was lovely to meet you Jaskier, come on Tarot."  Walking away, you got several paces in-front of Geralt before he stopped. I thought he was trying to get away from Jaskier. As Geralt turned and glanced at Roach, you had a sinking feeling. This wasn't about to be pleasant.

"Come here."

A horrific thud, and a rattle of Jaskier's lute, he hunched over in agony. If that was not bad enough, Jaskier landed onto the ground with remarkable force. Credit it needed to be given you observed, Jaskier attempted to get up straight away. Against your better nature, you let go of Tarot's reigns to check on Jaskier.

"What have I told you about punching Bards? And you were my polite warnings not enough. Also, why do I get the feeling, you being punched happens a lot." Running a hand through your hair, you bent over to check on Jaskier. Surprisingly Jaskier was nothing but a little winded.

"He was following us, what else was I meant to do?" Setting eyes on Geralt, you cocked your eyebrow.

"I don't know perhaps telling him to leave us alone."

"Wasn't that exactly what you were attempting to do? With excellent failure might I add." Frowning at Geralt's words you rolled your eyes, while you directed your head to Jaskier, you did not miss the small twitch of Geralt's lips. At least someone was amused.

"Jaskier, as you have just experienced. Travelling with a Witcher is dangerous, especially to Bards. Now please return to the Tavern, where you will be safe from everything, including Geralt." Turning away from Jaskier, you mounted Tarot just like Geralt had done with Roach expecting to leave the Bard behind.

"Reading between the lines and the gut punches. Chum, I'd say you have a bit of an image problem. Were I to join you, on this feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could I relieve you of that title. All the North would be too busy singing the tales of Geralt of Rivia the white wolf or something."

"Butcher is right." You frowned when Geralt said that. You were there when Geralt encountered Renfri you knew he had no choice. They forced him into a decision that was cruel and unfair.

"Geralt, we both know what happened that day was not your fault."

"Do you mind if I hop on there with you, I'm not exactly wearing the right footwear."

"Don't touch Roach." Several paces later, Geralt hoped off of Roach, tying her to a nearby tree. Following Geralt's actions, you joined Geralt by the tree.

"Stay alert and watch the Bard. We don't need a dead Bard on our hands." Agreeing with Geralt, you lightly touched his arm. Geralt never liked being touched, but he understood sometimes you needed to reassure him without saying anything. Following Geralt, you forgot Jaskier had recently joined the two of you.

"Geralt...Y/N...Geralt...Where are you going? Geralt, Y/N, don't leave me? Y/N I thought you were better than him. Hello. What are we looking for again?"

“Blessed Silence,”

"Yeah, I don't really go in for that." Laughter escaped your lips, walking silently alongside Geralt.

"Have you ever hunted a devil before Geralt?"

"Devil's don't exist."

"Then what are we doing?"

"Sometimes there are monsters sometimes there's money rarely both. That's the life."

Out of no-where, something darted past your head. Your senses heightened. Something or someone was out there, and they knew you were there.

“Shit!” Geralt yelled, examing Geralt understanding that as the unknown object darted past you, it had skimmed Geralt's forehead.

"Act two begins. What was that it looks like a tiny cannonball. Oh my gosh, Geralt it is a Devil. Oh, I have to see this magical this mythical-" Jaskier didn't get to finish his sentence as something hit him directly in the forehead and once again he hit the ground with a thud.

"Jaskier!"

"Stay with him I'll deal with Monster." Closing your eyes for a moment, you studied at Geralt.

"Geralt, I thought we made a deal." You contested, but Geralt was already marching away when he decided to stop and shift back to you.

"I agreed to stop hitting Bards."

"The other deal. The one where we deal with Monsters together. So neither of us die."

"I agreed to that when we didn't have to protect the Bard. That is your job. Long ago remember what we promised each other?"  

"To make this work, we needed to trust each other." With a hum, Geralt continued marching away, leaving you to deal with Jaskier. Kneeling beside him, you sighed.

"I did warn you in all fairness, but of course you didn't listen. Which means that you'll probably be staying with us, lesson one in being Geralt's companion. If something is thrown at you duck because they never throw only once."

"Lesson two, don't enter someone else's territory." An unknown voice broke your gaze on Jaskier's face. Something hard and heavy smacked your face, knocking you out.

Waking up, my body felt constricted. What happened? One moment you were giving an unconscious Jaskier his first lesson, the second you remember nothing but blackness. It didn't help someone else was trying to escape also.

"This is the part where we escape." You heard Jaskier's voice, at least he was awake, on your other side, you glanced down at the familiar black armour.

"This is the part where they kill us."

"Who's they?" A young female elf came out of no-where, kicking you directly in the face. The main was excruciating, as you opened and closed your jaw trying to get some feeling back into it. She was quick to kick both Geralt and Jaskier, not leaving anyone out.

"Elves."

"Hey that's my lute, give that back. Geralt, do ya Witchering"

"If it's that simple, do you think we'd be all tied up right now?" You snarled, trying to think of a way to get you out of this situation. Receiving another round of kicks, you glared at the female elf if you got free you swore she was going to pay for this. With the female elf speaking in Elvish, you translated it perfectly.

"Oh my elvish speech is rough I only got part of that."

"Humans shut up."

Jaskier spoke back in Elvish, and at that moment, you truly wanted to punch him.

"Do you wanna die right now?" The female elf spoke, turning in Jaskier's direction, trying to make eye contact with him.

"Jaskier, I will buy you a new lute if you just shut up."

"As opposed to later." Geralt snarled. You were beginning to wonder, how you were calm, while the other two were terrified.

"No please not the lute." All of you received another kicking, yours this time aimed perfectly at your chest.

"Leave off he's just a Bard, and she's just a young woman." Unfortunately, the female elf didn't take too kindly to Geralt's words, punches began hitting him repeatedly in the face.

"Leave him alone! What did he do to you? Nothing. We were just walking through, enjoying the scenery." The female elf stopped punching Geralt, turning her focus directly onto you.

"You don't deserve the air you breathe. Everything you touch you destroy." The female elf began to punch after punch directly across your face, but you kept still. Each punch caused the other elf in the corner to snap the lute. Throwing her knee up until your face, you hissed.

"You hide in your golden palaces, beat a bound man and a woman too scared to even look at them in the eye," Jaskier yelled as you rested your head back, working your hands to find his. This was never meant to be his problem to deal with.

"Do you like my golden Palace. Hmm, does it live up to the tales you humans tell?" As she gripped Geralt's jaw, he took the time to headbutt her. She landed a distance away from us, fair enough for the beatings to stop for now.

"Wait what's wrong with her?"

"She's sick."

"Oh, who's this?"

"He's Filavandrel, King of the elves."

"You were stealing from them." The Devil looking creature, explained the situation between the elves and the humans. How they were forced out of their homes, and have to use a Slyivian to do their bidding.

"No-one was supposed to get hurt."

"What's three humans in the ground? When countless elves have died."

"One human, the other's complicated."

"Thanks for that Geralt."

"Let them both go."

"Then Posada will know that we've been stealing. Humans will attack, many will die on both sides."

"The lesser evil. No matter what you chose, you'll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me." Geralt's words stung. Knowing that after all this time, he was unable to see himself just as you saw him hurt you in unimaginable ways. "Well that's the problem, I can't, and this is necessary."

"I understand, as long as you understand that it won't be long before you follow me in death."

"Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil, even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic."

"Chaos is the same as it's always been. Humans just adapted better."

"You say adapt, and I say destroy."

"You are choosing to starve, your cutting off your ear to spite your face."

"You think this is about pride. My elders worked with humans and got robbed of all they had. When they fought back, they were slaughtered. The great cleansing humans called it. I called it digging a mass grave. For everyone I loved. Now the humans proudly watch these fields, grow. Our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don’t wish to bury anyone else. I was once Filavandrel of the Silver towers, now I’m Filavandrel of the edge of the world. If I bring my people down from the mountains, it would mean bowing to humans. They’ll make slaves of us”

"Then go somewhere else. Rebuild, get strong again. Show the humans that you are more then what they fear you to be."

“Like you Witcher.”

"Not too long ago, I felt like you. I was angry at the entire world, the situations I was placed in. The way my life turned out. I saw the good in no-one. Until Geralt found me one day. Geralt taught me to accept everyone, no matter what they have done to you in the past." You informed Filavandrel only the top of a very long and complicated story.

“She's right. I have learnt to live with them. It wasn't easy, but I realised to live,I needed to learn to deal with them."

"Please my King there are others a new generation, of us that wish to fight. Let us take back what's ours. Starting with now." Filavandrel released his knife never in your wildest dreams could you imagine did you imagine dying with Geralt and a newfound Bard.

"Wait, the Witcher could have killed me, but he didn't. He's different. Like us." Torque was shoved aside by Filavandrel.

"If you must kill me. I am ready. But the Slyivan’s right, don’t call me human."

Hearing Geralt so willing to die, broke your heart into smithereens as you stared down in your lap to prevent anyone from the tears that escaped your eyes. You didn't need to look at Geralt to know he was currently staring at the blade. Waiting anxiously for your fate, in a way you were almost glad that Filavandrel had decided to kill you all. It was better than dealing with Geralt afterwards.

One.

Two

Three.

Thud.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Storybrooke Noir

AU-gust Day Twenty-Four: Private Detectives AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: None (with rumbelle in the background)

Rated: T

Summary: In Prohibition Era Storybrooke, private investigator Graham Humbert receives an interesting new case. 

Note: This is one of the first ideas I ever had for OUAT fanfic. Small parts of the story are told in noir-detective-style first person from Graham’s POV, most of it is third person.

Storybrooke Noir

As soon as I saw the identity of my visitor, I knew that my next case was going to be an interesting one. Regina Mills, it’s safe to say, runs Storybrooke. Nothing happens here without her say. If she was coming to me for help, then I knew that the situation was very delicate indeed. 

Graham could see that Regina Mills was the person behind his office door. Her outline was very distinctive. She was a fan of interestingly-shaped hats, and this one was definitely the most interesting that he had seen.

He opened the door and ushered her inside.

“What can I do for you, Miss Mills?”

“I need your skills, Mr Humbert.” She placed the brown envelope that she was carrying down onto the desk. “I have a case for you, and if you solve it to my satisfaction then I can promise you a very lucrative reward.”

“I have a standard rate, Miss Mills.”

“I know.” Regina’s smile was hungry and leonine, and it made Graham want to take a step back. Whilst he didn’t know what was in the envelope, he received the distinct impression that Regina was on the hunt, and whoever her target was, she was going to employ Graham to do the hunting. “But I’m certain that I can make any extra effort that you go to worth your while.”

Graham raised an eyebrow. Regina must be desperate if she was coming to him for help in the first place, and even more so if she was trying to sweet talk him like this.

“That won’t be necessary, Miss Mills. What’s the nature of the job?” He took the envelope and opened it. A grainy photograph fell out; he recognised it as the work of Sidney Glass, Storybrooke’s local newshound. The picture showed a young woman with light hair standing on Storybrooke’s main street.

“I don’t like it when new people arrive in Storybrooke unannounced and start snooping around,” Regina said. “Her name is Emma Swan and she arrived in furtive circumstances in the middle of the night. I want to know who she is, where she’s from, why she’s here and what she intends to do now she’s got here. More importantly, I want to know when she’s leaving. If she can leave any sooner than that, then again, I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”

Graham nodded. Whilst he was not usually in the business of scaring people out of town – Regina had more than enough people at her beck and call to be able to do that herself – he would certainly look into the case. He wasn’t picky when it came to his earnings and who he took them from.

With his fee negotiated, Graham sat back, looking at the photograph that Regina had left with him and beginning to make notes.

It was time for a trip to the Spinning Wheel.

The Spinning Wheel Speakeasy is a good place to come for information. It’s owned, as most places in Storybrooke are, by Mr Gold. No-one knows his first name, and some people have speculated that he doesn’t actually have one. Gold knows everything that happens in the town, including the things that Regina doesn’t know about, and he’s always willing to share - for a price, of course. He’s the only person in town who can go toe to toe with Regina and be confident of victory, and I’m glad I’m on the right side of him.

If he couldn’t be persuaded to part with his knowledge of Emma Swan, maybe his girl Belle could help.

The Spinning Wheel was located in the basement of Storybrooke library, and Graham had to admit that being surrounded by old books and dusty periodicals gave the place an air of class that most establishments of its ilk couldn’t boast. 

Belle was sitting behind the library issue desk when Graham entered, although he knew full well that she was not expecting any patrons to be checking out books at this hour. She had been Gold’s doorkeeper for as long as anyone could remember, preferring the quiet of the library to the noise down below. They made for an odd couple, the bookish librarian and the menacing landlord and moonshiner of the shadows, but no-one who saw them together could deny that Gold was completely devoted to her and vice versa. Woe betide anyone who tried to use Belle as leverage to get to Gold. He could be very creative with that cane of his when he wanted to be, and Graham had seen him in action more than once. Keith Nottingham had learned to stay away after that beating.

“Hello Mr Humbert.” Belle greeted him with a smile as he came into the dimly lit building. “Are you here for business or pleasure tonight?”

“Business, I’m afraid. Is Gold in tonight? I’m hoping that he can help me with my latest case.”

Belle nodded, coming out from behind the issue desk and going over to unlock the rickety elevator in the corner. Graham followed her. 

“He’s in, but I don’t know that he’s feeling all that altruistic. You’d better be prepared to dig deep.”

“I’m sure he’ll be interested when I tell him it’s an opportunity to get one over on Her Majesty.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Things must be serious if she’s seeking independent help. I’d noticed that she seemed a little jumpier these past few days. What’s got into her?”

“Scared of losing her crown as always.” Graham thought it would be best to play his cards close to his chest for the moment. If this Swan character was dangerous, then it really wouldn’t do to be putting Belle in harm’s way. 

She came down the elevator with him, and the doors opened onto the Spinning Wheel. It was doing good trade tonight, with most of its small tables occupied. Graham recognised David Nolan by the little stage, gazing moon-eyed at the singer. His soft spot for Mary Margaret Blanchard was an open secret in the town - much to Mrs Nolan’s chagrin.

Belle led the way across the smoky room to where Gold was sitting with one of his associates. Jefferson Milliner was considered eccentric at best and downright insane at worst, but he and Gold got on like a house on fire. Graham wasn’t sure what the implications were for Gold’s own mental state as a result. 

Gold smiled warmly as Belle approached, his entire demeanour softening with her mere presence. He held out a hand to her and kissed her knuckles when she took it. 

“Who have we here, sweetheart? I see that the great detective has decided to pay us a visit.”

“Evening Mr Gold, Mr Milliner. I’m looking for some information about a recent new arrival in Storybrooke. I know that nothing in town goes unnoticed here.”

Gold grinned. “Let me guess. Her Majesty wants you to dig up any dirt you can on her so that she can be safe in the knowledge that she’s under no threat from Bostonian interlopers on secret missions.”

Graham laughed. “So, you know she’s from Boston and she’s here on a secret mission, which is more than me.”

“Aye. Any more will cost you.”

“How much?”

Gold gave the matter some thought. 

“I’m feeling generous tonight with the news of Regina’s discomfiture. Get yourself a drink and sit down with us, and I’ll tell you what I know. Will you join us, my dear?”

Belle declined, returning to the library above, and with liquor procured, Graham took a seat. He had to admit, Gold sold the good stuff; there was none of your bathtub rotgut at the Spinning Wheel. 

“So,” Gold began. “What do you already know?”

“Her name is Emma Swan and she arrived two days ago in the small hours. That’s as much as Regina knows and as much as I know.”

“She’s boarding at Widow Lucas’s and she’s intending to stay a week. She seems the transient type. Looking for something, I would imagine, although I can’t say what just yet. She was in here last night; it seems that Ruby Lucas clued her in. Belle judged her to be safe, and I trust Belle’s judgement.” Gold paused. “If I didn’t know better I’d say that she was one of your lot. Private eye.”

Graham shrugged. “It’s possible.”

He drained his drink and thanked Gold, going back over to the elevator. It was time to start digging. 

Gold had given me a good lead, and what he had said about Swan possibly being a PI like myself was interesting. I wondered what she could be investigating here in Storybrooke; we don’t get many people coming in and out. 

Widow Lucas was my next point of call. She takes in the few boarders who come to Storybrooke, some of whom stay permanently. It’s not exactly a vacation destination. She’s known to most as Granny, and she takes no nonsense from anyone.

“I know why you’re here.” Graham had barely got through the door of the inn before Granny had sized him up. He wasn’t exactly surprised. She had a sixth sense for things like that. 

“I’m sure that you do, Widow Lucas.” 

“She’s in the parlour,” Granny continued. “I think she’s expecting you as much as I am.”

Graham made his way through to the parlour, and sure enough, Miss Swan was sitting there. 

“Evening, Miss.”

“Good evening. Widow Lucas told me to expect you. Apparently Miss Mills isn’t too keen on outsiders coming into her domain.”

Graham had to laugh at the succinct summation of the situation. “Indeed not.” 

Miss Swan indicated for him to take a seat opposite her as Granny bustled in with some coffee. 

“It’s all right, Mr Humbert. I’m not staying long. My interest in Storybrooke is purely professional. In much the same way as yours, in fact.”

“Yes. Mr Gold thought that it might be.” 

“He’s a shrewd man. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, but he’s definitely clever, I’ll give him that much, and he’s got good liquor.”

They drank their coffee in silence for a while, and Graham studied Miss Swan, pondering her reasons and motives, and what a private investigator was doing coming to Storybrooke.

“What brings you to our town, then, Miss Swan?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Miss Swan just laughed. “Well, I think that’s for me to know and you to find out, Mr Humbert. That’s what you’re being paid to do, after all.”

Graham couldn’t fault her logic, and he smiled. The next few days whilst Miss Swan was in town were going to be very interesting indeed…

[lightlorn]

Ship bias for your KH Muses! :D

i am a flawed human being. ll accepting.

Aqua:

Terraqua. This ship is part of the reason I kept crying so hard in KH3, now catch me admitting that on the internet. I love the way they are there for each other in spite of their stark differences, and that they have a lot of unexplored, threadable area in both their coming of age and post-KH3 timelines. Plus any ship I can draw a parallel between my fandom otp and another ship is a good ship.

Xemqua. Nomura was setting something up here and he dropped the ball and I will not take that lying down. You’re telling me they don’t even so much as look at each other during the DLC? Dishonorable, Nomura, truly despicable. There’s so much to work with there, what with the armor and the way you can read a lot of Xemnas’ closest allies in the Org being answers to Terra’s inner circle. If Nomura won’t give me their story, then I’ll write it with a partner.

Aqua/Larxene. There’s basically no other adult women in this series and I am a simple dyke seeking the wlw. I think it would make a fantastic opposites attract cliche with the added bonus of someone that won’t take Larxene’s attitude lying down while simultaneously being able to match her step for step. The Taming of the Nymph, coming soon to an AU near you.

Eraqus:

Xehaqus. This is my end all, be all OTP for the fandom. I have spent almost 100 dollars overall at cons commissioning art of these idiots. They are my phone background and lockscreen. I have an entire fic in my head of their apprentice days and frankly if Dark Road does not live up to the relationship development I have hyped up in my head I will go canon divergent. These fuckers are beautiful and heartbreaking and awful and wonderful and I love them. Bring me all the Xehaqus.

That’s it. I’m so disappointing. I have like one or two OC for him ships and I mean whatever happens in RP happens if relationships develop but oh my God. Xehaqus consumes me.

Invi:

Real talk my Invi is a lesbian and my take on the Foretellers is that she sees them all as her siblings underneath all of her posturing that it’s nothing personal, so I don’t even know what the fandom ships for her are. I’m not even sure who is available to ship with her. Throw whatever of age lady muses you have at her, mutuals, and let’s see where this goes.

Isa:

Isalea. Akusai is also good, but there’s something about their life together after the war ends when they are trying to rebuild and find everything they lost that speaks to my soul. I would never say that if I see an Axel/Lea it’s ‘on sight’ shipping because that’s shitty, but I will say I am that Saix/Isa that is always down to discuss your take on their dynamic and see what we can cobble together.

Xemsai. This will never be a healthy ship, I think, based on the fact my Saix is as likely to use his alleged loyalty and affection to try and get some form of control over his Superior, but there’s a lot that could be fleshed out here. Whatever heart he grows will always belong to his oldest friend, but he will do whatever it takes to see his ambitions fulfilled. He’s trying to use the creature that has used him for over a decade. God. The potential.

Xigsai. By the same card as above, I think if Saix clued into Xigbar being more than simply a bombastic menace, he could try and pull the same using sex and false loyalty to obfuscate his true means on Xigbar. The difference being that Xigbar is, at heart, far more deadly and aware than Xemnas is when it comes to the bigger picture. It’d be Saix putting himself in the mouth of the beast willingly, and not expecting how deeply those teeth can cut when they snap shut on him.

Roxas:

Full disclaimer: I am 25 years old and fleshing out the romantic drama of a teenage boy is not something that super interests me. That said, I do like the concept of Roxas and his brand new heart forming all kinds of bonds, and him eventually starting to register feelings beyond the platonic for certain people. So as far as character development goes, i can see him taking interest in the following:

Hayner. There’s something so coming of age adolescent aggression as a front for latent or closeted affection about them in the simulation, and in the real world they have endless potential. I think Roxas could definitely feel safe enough around Hayner to have something more develop feelings wise. Also Hayner has muscles and that makes Roxas 404 error sometimes regardless of shipping, just as a general Roxas thing.

Xion. It’s a cliche, to be sure, but depending on the Xion and their development, I can see Roxas starting to feel more at home in her presence after they’ve had time to heal and become their own people. This isn’t an on sight shipping thing, and in fact I am super selective about this even while shipping it, but there’s groundwork for a good dynamic and a sort of reunion between them as whole people who come to appreciate each other as more than their initial, shallow idea of friends.

Namine. Was not super hip on this as a kid, especially when I was less discriminating in my Xion tastes, but as an adult I can appreciate their bond. They have a lot of the same trauma in terms of being dehumanized and used by two separate factions in setting, and the two take a lot of risks for one another within the data Twilight Town. I think there’s something to be said for them both to have irrevocable individuality and come together and develop as more than friends over the years.

Riku. Is it trashy? Yes. Is Roxas still tied to Sora somehow? Yes. Would it be hilarious to see Roxas turn a would-be rivalry into accidental flirtation because he’s confused about his feelings? Yes. Riku just standing there suffering while Roxas demands they engage in a passionate battle of lips -- WITS. I don’t even know how serious I am in shipping this, but Riku being Roxas’ emotional training wheels amuses me.

Aaaaand you can’t really have biases for an OC because at that point anything with plot potential, chemistry, and aligning sexualities goes so instead I am just going to shout out Kokoro’s established ships + the muns for being so good to my little mary sue.

Xemkoro/Foxhole. I don’t know how me dipping my toe in the water of shipping with Lucky by saying ‘hey my OC and your Xem could have a cool dynamic’ became like... my entire shipping brand, but here we are. Their entire dynamic breaks me, the way Xemnas is clinging to a past that he wants so badly to have been a part of while Kokoro can’t afford to look back anymore, working too hard to meet future goals is... Everything. Especially in the fact she regards him as a person without hesitation or knowing how much that will come to mean to him. There’s so many layers to them, and they truly work to earn their happy ending, and that is everything to me. Here’s to successful risks and their payoff.

Aquoro.  Everything my gay little heart ever wanted: the dichotomy of childhood romantic friendship giving way to adolescent rivalry and a shell of what your relationship used to be that appears so often between girls. That they also represent the Responsible Daughter and Rebel Daughter in Kokoro’s secondary verse, furthering the gulf between them as Aqua continues to follow the Master’s teachings where Kokoro embraces her own ideas about what Eraqus preached is... Chef’s Kiss... And through it all, it’s still Aqua that Kokoro wants to find the most, the one for whom her heart breaks the hardest when she sees what became of her. I owe Lucky my life for giving me this phenomenal wlw content.

Koterra. Kleffy does spoil me. The difference between what Terra dreamed of as a boy and what their reality became, where she is instead his knight and protector while he calls the shots as part of reclaiming his identity is perfect. The way they grow from teenage misunderstandings and dick moves into adults that have a touch more kindness for one another is also good, because it’s all about the character development. Their bond is strong and their support for one another immeasurable. I am heterosexual for one (1) ship. All because Kleffy came up with it on the spot and then put in the effort to make it work, God bless em.

[ryouverua]

Trial 6 - (Fifty)Third Time’s the Charm, Post-Accusation (3)

Is that all we are to you? Just a vehicle to solve your cases for you?! ... you know what on second thought don’t answer that -

Trial: 1 / 2

hello darkness my old friend

What an interesting reaction. Despite the weird back and forth she’s been having with Monokuma, he still had the Monokubs jump in to defend her - though with that said, the desperation of it all probably backfired in Shuichi’s eyes. The point is, her first reaction wasn’t to protest - I mean, she will, and she did a bit weakly earlier, but it’s to withdraw into herself and think. Isn’t that how we first came across her? Thinking deeply to herself and completely ignoring Kaede and Shuichi to the best of her abilities?

A-are you attempting to plead ‘power of friendship’ right now -

“There is no time for friendship in the court of law!!!”

Clinging to that idea is the only thing he had to keep himself going all this time, too.

Also, after pushing behind the scenes for him to condemn three of the most well-meaning people in the class (and, y’know, Kirumi and Korekiyo lol), it’s interesting that she seems to think that this line of defense will work - especially considering what he’s accusing her of doing. You’ve managed to do something way beyond just murder, Tsumugi! Aside from Rantaro, you set the groundwork for everything that followed! And I feel like this game, more than the others, really pushed the idea that the survivors share some of the blame when the ‘blackened’ dies. I don’t agree with that mind you, but survivor’s guilt is very real and very powerful.

Despite all of this, he still wants to be wrong and is happy to be wrong. Being awfully, painfully right seems to be a running trend with him, with the one glaring exception hanging over his head.

BUT SHE STILL ISN’T SAYING ANYTHING -

she’s just sitting there with this worried, anguished expression and I don’t know what I was expected but it wasn’t this?? Is she trying to frantically brainstorm a way out or -

Seriously Monokuma do you actually hate her??? Despite working with her? Despite being intrinsically linked to each other???

Anyway whatever that just means it’s cute comic time, nice.

“gdmt do I have to do everything myself -”

They kept her glasses on! Oh, they kept her glasses on it for this! I don’t know why that makes me so happy.

Aaaaw look at Miu tinker away! The animation is really cute for it, tbh. Also something about Korekiyo eating all by himself with Kirumi waiting on him is kinda hilarious to me...

.........

I just realized that everyone in the dining hall were killers/wanna-be killers of the game lmao. Also, if only the nosier people had been in the room, this could have been prevented. 8′\

.... Now I really wish we knew where Kokichi had been at the time.

i just have this screenshot because Shuichi and Kaede are cute here

What was the signal that clued Tsumugi in on leaving, I wonder? Maybe she waited a certain amount of time after seeing Rantaro leave with the others? Would she have been willing to wait longer if she needed to for Kaede’s plan to either work or not work, or was she counting on it happening in that five minute span?

This was a pretty damn good set-up by Kaede.

I

CANNOT

BELIEVE EVEN NOW -

!!! New Act 5.

Also no shit he would’ve been surprised. Actually, I’d say that was an understatement. What a great expression by the artist - that is definitely the look of someone whose life or what he remembers of it is flashing before his eyes.

RANTARO

RANTARO DAMN IT

I GET YOU’RE IN PSYCHOLOGICAL SHOCK BUT

oh god I was gonna say ‘did he not hear Tsumugi right behind him’ but 1) the video was still blasting 2) no, seriously, he was probably in shock and still processing that he nearly died and was a sitting duck

WOW LOOKING REALLY CREEPY THERE MISS MASTERMIND

okay now the glasses still being there is kinda hilarious but I love it

SHE REALLY WAS.... RIGHT THERE....

This is another redundant picture because.... I’m not sure. I like this group together. We didn’t know anything about them at this point in the game, but they really did try so hard - and hell, Tenko, who I never got to know that well, was already putting aside her own bias this early in the game to work with Kaito for everyone’s sake. aaah now i’m getting sad

Which was so believable because even Kaede thought it was the truth! I’m so torn. I really like Kaede, and honestly? I like the fact that she was willing to go after the mastermind so aggressively. Tsumugi did twist the truth, sure, and we convicted the wrong person - but I don’t want to lose the fact that Kaede only didn’t kill Rantaro because her calculations were slightly off and Tsumugi cleaned up after her. I keep going back to it, but that line of Kokichi’s, telling Kaede she lost the moment she let murder into her heart, does still ring true to me...

THAT POSE.... I’d been waiting for her to make that type of pose all game. IS THIS WHY IT NEVER HAPPENED? BECAUSE YOU WERE SAVING IT FOR THIS DRAMATIC REVEAL?

Damn I love this picture, and I love how we’re finally getting to see the first hints of menace in her expression (outside of the ‘backflip into a minefield and die’ lol).

So.... now what....?

DO IT I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE PRESS THE BUTTON

Aaaaw, even K1-b0 is willing to hear her out. :(

MAKI ON THE OTHER HAND LMAO

“I’m giving you 5 minutes. Oh, we’re down to 298 seconds now. Tick tock, motherfucker.”

And... she has nothing. Pretty much nothing. I mean, I guess she manages to throw the word ‘plain’ out one more time - literally just, “it’s plain to see I didn’t do it” - and that’s... it. Not exactly what one would expect of the mastermind who was able to throw this all together...

NO NOT THAT THING

“Tsumugi I swear to god -”

THAT’S NOT A GOOD REASON AT ALL!!! THAT’S THE OPPOSITE OF A GOOD REASON!!!

;LKDFJAS;KJ

SDKFLJ

kalsdjfsljf;sfj

f m l    that’s actually

amazing

thank you based tsumugi

Where are you going with this????

???????????

I think everyone who‘s played the game has this scene seared into their memories and for good reason.

HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME AGREE WITH MONOPHANIE DRV3 -

oh thank god

Wait no, Tsumugi. Wait. No, we’ve had something good going on between us, right? Right? Tsumugi please - please don’t -

TSUMUGI I AM BEGGING YOU

NO

TSUMUGI

TSUMUGI WHY

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS

FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

......

WAIT DID YOU LITERALLY JUST CHANGE IN THAT CLOUD OF DUST

HOW -

YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT shit she really is the Ultimate Analyst

Wait, the 53rd???

THE 53RD??? THERE’S BEEN 53 OF THEM??? HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE TAKEN UP YOUR MANTLE -

NO FUCK YOU IT’S TSUMUGI GIVE HER THE CREDIT SHE DESERVES

HOW DARE YOU

U-UM

UM WHAT JUST HAPPENED

first of all BITCH -

second of all HOW DID YOU

SWITCH BACK SO FAST WHAT IN THE WORLD

third of all, which is really just an expansion of first of all, I actually still managed to keep liking her despite everything! Even that damn love hotel scene! DESPITE ALL THE ODDS I STILL EXIST -

“I’m pretty sure Kokichi copyrighted that. You gotta wait at least 25 years before you can use it yourself, y’know.”

hHGHGH MEGANE MASTERMIND SPRITE

omfg they

they’ve been holding back on this pose for the entire game

just for this moment

just for glasses!junko

............

fml I’ll allow it but I’M NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT

Also I... I still want to believe that this Junko persona was born from Tsumugi and not the other way around....

Wait, does that mean Maki and the others know what Junko sound like? How? Were there recordings of the final trial or something? This just makes me more curious about the time separation between the last two games and this one! Especially with the number ‘53′ dropped - that would mean someone’s picked up the mantle 53 times, right??? So shouldn’t it be at least 53 years? but then how old was Naegi in that flashback, and that’s assuming every person that took the role would last no longer than a year, but then - wait -

No, if I’m going to stick with the idea that these students were made to replace actual Ultimates... then maybe this is a lot farther back than I initially thought...?

DOES SHE HAVE A V   3 IN HER EYES

....

WAIT A SECOND

Which is why she’s calling herself the 53rd... So Junko Enoshima is a title that can be passed down. It’s officially bigger than the person herself - the same way ‘Ultimate Despair’ belonged to Junko (and she pretty much defined it), but was also a title that could be earned by other people... right?

“You literally keep bringing out your glasses. You can’t even see us properly from over there, can you?”

EXCEPT FOR YOUR DAMN EYES I CANNOT BELIEVE -

SHE’S THE 53RD JUNKO WHICH SHE HAS A V3 IN HER EYES BECAUSE V3 IS SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT 50 + 3 DAMN YOU DRV3

“Please, Shuichi? Please? Can I do it now?!”

omfg Maki why is the answer to everything murder ARE WE REALLY GOING TO DO ROUND THREE HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING -

......... b u t  on the other hand we actually do have the confirmed mastermind here. H M M M M ....

AAAAH IT’S THAT TSUMUGI POSE EXCEPT NOW IT’S OMINOUS AND SHE’S LOOKING AT US OH GOD

Sweetcheeks is staying on track! You’ve got her right where you want her, kiddo! :D

“..... like, do you wanna go get some food or coffee after this, or....?”

“I DON’T NEED YOUR STUPID COFFEE I NEED A GODDAMN NAP AND A CHANGE OF SCENERY!!!”

I’m... suddenly getting a terrible feeling that things won’t be that simple. We’re definitely not far enough into this trial for it to end...

W-Why do I feel like I’m facing a Tsumugi-Junko tag team right now?

FML I really like this transition between her initial sprite and this menacing one!

I-I... I guess we’re just going to let her exposition-dump now? O-Okay...

Ffffffuuuu where do the weird memory shenanigans mix into this and what part of this is the truth? Because Tsumugi clearly feels a deep connection to Junko (lmao inner Junko) but the flashback light machine showed us that we could literally choose scenarios where people other than us survived!

MAKI

MAKI NO

I THOUGHT WE HAD FINALLY GOTTEN SOMEWHERE ON THIS

.... Whoa this sprite looks really different from the rest. It’s ripped straight from the first game, right? I don’t know if the colours quite match up with the others. 8′D

I didn’t realize I could hate the Remnant of Despair Kokichi theory more than I already did but then he, with the supposed talent Supreme Leader, was relegated to a mere follower. 8′D

Unrelated but I lowkey love this ^ line.

... Do you ever just realize how small Kokichi was in a moment like this.

Anyway I thought we’d already drop-kicked Remnant!Kokichi into the sun but apparently we have to do it in-trial now. Or, well, soon, anyway.

Himiko and the others are trying to stay on track though - on the idea that there are viewers to the madness. At first I thought, ‘oh, that’s a bit of a tangent though’ then I remembered Kokichi was the one who gave us the tools to get all the evidence to prove that so it actually does make sense to bring it back up now!

Bullshit.

An intriguing line of thought, but bullshit.

THERE IS SO MUCH WRONG HERE THAT I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN -

so thank god for Shuichi, who can help us get started.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘Life in Death’ Chapter 4: Broken Hearts and Twisted Minds

               Have you ever looked into a mirror only to see a new version of yourself? Not outwardly, but deep inside, you know you’ve changed. I couldn’t quite place what it was about me that was shifting, but whatever it was, I felt like I was closer to my true self than I’ve been in a while. I examined myself in the burgundy off-the-shoulder dress that now hugged my curves in all the right places. I had only ever worn it once before a couple of years ago, and thought I’d take it for another spin. The color complemented my dark hair and brown eyes, and a simple black belt wrapped around my abdomen gave it the needed contrast.

               I only applied eyeliner, leaving the rest of my face natural. Simple was always best in my opinion. I left my hair down in loose waves around my shoulders. After taking a deep breath, I stepped outside of my room, and approached the sitting room where Sherlock was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

               “Is he here yet?” I asked, pulling at my dress to make sure there were absolutely no wrinkles. I watched as Sherlock turned around, ready to open his mouth and rant I’m sure, but instead he blinked his eyes several time. His mouth was agape in what I can only describe as astonishment. I couldn’t tell if he was ready to deduce me to pieces, or if he was going to simply think twice before speaking. Oh God, what if I looked terrible!? “I look awful, don’t I?”

               “N—no, Miss Hooper. Quite the opposite.” It wasn’t usual for him to stumble over his words. I watched as he smoothed his hand over his hair. “I am sure you will captivate Mister Jameson’s fancy.”

               I blushed at his remark, silently wishing the man in front of me was alive. I quickly shook the thought from my head. It was ludicrous! Here I am about to go out for dinner with Thomas, and yet, I’m still pining for this infuriating ghost of a man. I needed to get it together. I could hear my mum’s voice in my head already if she believed this situation.

               “How terribly morbid of you, Molly. Get your head out of the clouds and find an actual prospect.”

               My mum still got on my nerves even when she lived miles away.

               “Thank you,” I managed to get out, my throat suddenly feeling dry. In fact, I was parched. I hardly heard Sherlock’s flat tone of voice announce that Thomas was here. Upon hearing the knock on my door, I approached to open it. I was nervous—not for the date—but because I was afraid Sherlock would somehow be seen even though I’m the only one he’s known to be able to see him.

               “Molly, you look dazzling,” Thomas smiled sweetly. His dirty blonde curls were tamed, more so than usual. I noticed him look around the room, his eyes locking on something in the far corner, but I hadn’t bothered to see what it was that captured his interest.

               “Suck up,” Sherlock murmured from somewhere in the room.

               “Shhh,” I hissed in annoyance. Why the hell did I ever think I could have feelings for him?

               “What?” Thomas asked, his brows knit in confusion.

               “Oh, nothing,” I laughed it off. “We should head out if we’re to make our reservation.”

               “Indeed,” he agreed, taking my hand in his.

               I told myself this was exactly what I needed whilst we were in the cab. If that were true, why did I feel so uneasy about this date at all? Sherlock was back at the flat, and I was safe from his tiresome comments.

               Dinner was delicious, and the wine was crisp in flavour. We talked of little things about ourselves, and our interests, but to be honest, I wasn’t quite interested in him. He seemed the type to sit on the sidelines rather than dare to live life to the absolute fullest. He was nice enough, sure, but a bit too predictable…or so I thought.

               “Forgive me for bringing up work,” he began as dessert was brought to our table, “but I wondered what you thought of our latest serial killer. Is he brilliant, or simply just a madman?”

               “Oh, well, I suppose it depends on which way you look at it.” I felt tense, but didn’t want to be rude. “You’d have to be mad to murder in the first place, but the calling card is a brilliant feature. I believe it refers to Doctor Watson’s story, ‘The Final Problem.’” I hoped I wasn’t giving too much away, but I highly doubted Thomas would just assume I’ve been working with the ghost of Sherlock Holmes.

               The smile that adorned his face was one of satisfaction. But, when he thought I wasn't looking, there was something menacing about his look that sent a chill down my spine. He didn't quite look like himself, and it was unsettling. I couldn’t help but feel wary around him. My heart rate elevated rapidly, and the feeling of nauseousness made my stomach protest the cheesecake I had for dessert. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to leave, but if Thomas was dangerous, I didn’t want to cause a scene, possibly getting myself killed. His interest in our newest serial killer only meant one of two things: either he was obsessed with this case, or he was the man behind it all. Granted, the entire hospital staff has been talking about it, but he seemed to be eager over it.

One thing that clued me into Thomas being a possible suspect is that he asked if the killer was brilliant, and was satisfied when I said that the calling card was. Serial killers are known to have ridiculously large egos—of that, I was sure. Another thing—and this was a stretch—but his last name was ‘Jameson.’ The meaning of that name is ‘Son of James.’ Could be coincidental, but my intuition told me I was on a date with a descendant of Colonel James Moriarty.

               I decided to text Meena, my hands and phone beneath the table. She said she’d be here in five, so I continued my faux fascination with Thomas. When she let me know that she was entering the restaurant, I got up, letting my date know I needed the ladies’ room. As I stood up, I felt dizzy. The room was spinning.

               “Molly, are you alright?” Thomas asked. His hand was clasped on my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off, but I had no control of my body. I only felt relief when Meena came running to catch me.

               “Oh my God, Molly!” Meena shouted. “Thomas, what happened!?”

               “I-I don’t know,” he spoke frantically. “She got up to use the restroom, and then she started fainting.”

               “Uh-huh,” Meena raised her eyebrow, unimpressed. “C’mon, Molly, I’ll get you home safe.”

               I was feeling nauseas by the time we made it back to my flat. I noticed the look of horror on Sherlock’s face when he saw Meena bring me in.

               “Miss Hooper, what happened!?” He rushed towards me, following right behind Meena who was bringing me to the bathroom. I ended up retching into the bowl, emptying the contents of my stomach. I panted heavily, a sheen of sweat building up on my face.

               “I can’t believe he used a date-rape drug on you; these are classic signs of one. Rohypnol is what it is by the looks of it.” Meena dug through my bathroom cupboard for a washcloth. I looked up and saw the worry etched on Sherlock’s face. He truly was genuinely upset over what had happened. I felt a light pressure on my shoulder, knowing it was my ghostly friend attempting to comfort me.

               Gradually, I felt myself slip in and out of consciousness. The last thing I remembered was Meena helping change me out of my dress, into my pajamas, and being put to bed. That’s when it all went black, though I do remember my dream vividly.

               I felt the tightening of my corset squeeze my body. I was about to meet the man my parents had arranged for me to marry according to my lady’s maid.

               “What if he is repelled by me?” I asked, pacing around my bedroom. The four poster bed looked quite inviting.  

               “Well, ma’am, according to Doctor Watson, he is not very fond of romantic relations, but his parents want grandchildren, and won’t stop pestering him about it.”

               “Sounds like a real charmer.” I was, of course, disappointed about this. I would never—could never—find love with a man such as that. I refused to be nothing more than a breed mare. So I did what any self-respecting woman would do. I ran.

Author’s Note:  So, Thomas is Moriarty's descendant! Brownie points for those of you who guessed it! Sherlock's beginning to show real affection for Molly. What do y'all think? xo

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Molly’s Dress