#ethical office supplies

[warandpeas]

So, here’s the deal: after we dropped this comic and it turned out to be a success, we felt this itch—an almost physical urge—to revisit it. Not to remake it per se, but to refine, to tweak, to smooth out those minor imperfections that only become visible in hindsight, like hairline cracks in a mirror that otherwise reflects something whole.

Then, along comes this offer from a print studio, and not just any print studio but one with three locations across the globe, which is kind of a big deal if you think about it. Their whole operation is basically the dream scenario for anyone who cares about what they're producing: colors that aren’t just bright but seem to vibrate on some kind of metaphysical level, like they’ve bypassed your retina and gone straight to the part of your brain responsible for wonder. And let’s not forget the paper. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill, office supply store stuff. We’re talking thick, textured, almost sinfully durable paper. Like, you could probably frame this without glass, and it would still hold up against the minor apocalypses that tend to occur in your living room.

Selected Funnies

Speaking of frames—another thing. They’ve got this black one that’s absurdly high-end, so good that they don’t just frame the print, they frame you, like they re-contextualize your entire existence as someone who actually cares about aesthetics. Which, if we’re being brutally honest, is part of the reason for the price, and we get it: some of you have raised an eyebrow or two about the cost, and we don’t blame you. But here’s the thing: The price isn’t arbitrary. It’s a function of the quality and the ethically sound supply chain. Yes, it’s on the higher end of the spectrum. Yes, it’s an investment. But imagine this: your artistically disaffected friends and the snobbish dinner guests whose approval you secretly crave? They’re going to stand in front of this print, struck dumb, maybe for the first time in their lives, because they’re faced with something they can’t cynically deconstruct. And isn’t that worth it?

Selected Funnies

[navybrat817]

Back to the Office

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You got back to the office to get your phone and stumble upon something you shouldn't have seen.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Dark AU, minor character death, mention of blood, threat of violence, kidnapping, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @youdontknow-things requested Bucky and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #28 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You quietly entered the building and sighed when you caught the time on the clock nearby. Most of the lights were off since everyone was gone for the night, but you didn't mind since you wouldn't be there for long. You just couldn't believe you made it all the way home before you realized that you forgot your phone, too preoccupied with reading a new book on the train. It was a downside of having to go into the office three days a week. Now you’d have to rush to make dinner or order out once you got back.

At least your desk was on the first floor and you could work from home tomorrow.

You passed by a few cubicles and shook your head once you made it to yours. It wasn't much, but it was still your space. “There you are,” you muttered, your phone sitting right beside your keyboard where you left it. Grabbing it, you smiled to yourself when you saw a text from your mom. She was always checking on you.

Just as you were about to respond, you noticed a dim light out of the corner of your eye. It was coming from your boss’s office. You should've known he was still there since it wasn't unusual for him to stay late. He was the kind of boss who showed up first and left last. He also had a good sense of humor to balance out his hard work ethic.

You walked down the hall before you could stop yourself and knocked twice on the cracked open door. He didn't say anything, but his rule was you could always go in if the door wasn't shut and locked. “You know, the company won't go under if you go home,” you giggled as you pushed the door open completely.

Your laughter died in your throat when you saw your boss facedown on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The sight and coppery scent that filled the room made your stomach roll and you tried to force air into your lungs as your phone fell from your hand. You felt paralyzed, unable to go to his side to check his pulse. But from how still his body was, you sensed he was dead.

What happened to him?

“You aren't supposed to be here.”

A deep and oddly pleasant voice you didn't recognize drew your attention past the body to the desk. A tall man clad in black from head to toe met your wide-eyed stare with a soft smile. With cobalt eyes, long dark hair, and broad shoulders, you would've found yourself attracted to him in any other scenario. But this stranger exuded danger.

You were in trouble.

“W-Who are you?” You asked, unable to keep your voice even. “What happened to him?” You added, not wanting to outright accuse him of anything.

He tilted his head. “I’d tell you, but…” He winked, the rest of the statement hanging in the air as the tension skyrocketed.

I’d have to kill you.

Your legs shook before you took one step back. The second step you took made him frown. The third stepped he moved toward you. You turned and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. If he caught you, would you end up in a pool of your own blood, too?

Blame it on fear or disorientation, but you took off in the wrong direction. Instead of heading toward the front of the building like you should've, you went straight toward the supply closet at the other end. Your hand shook as you locked it behind you, your legs giving out as you caught your breath.

Fear raced down your spine as you cowered on the floor, blankly staring at the door in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. You bit your lip and tried not to make a sound when slow footsteps approached. Maybe there was a chance that the man didn't see where you went. It was a stupidly optimistic thought.

And you couldn't believe you dropped your phone. You could've tried to call or text someone for help. Would it have done you any good though? By the time anyone got there…

“I know you're still here and I’m sorry. I was kidding with that whole ‘I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ implication. Bad joke given the circumstances.” His voice rang out clearly through the door. “Bet you’ve never seen a dead body before. I know it can be quite a shock.”

The image of your boss dead in his office was one that would haunt you.

“Everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, so casually that it unnerved you. How was he so calm? “It's a nickname.”

You never heard your boss or anyone around the office mention someone named Bucky. It was a name you would've remembered since it wasn't exactly common. What did he want?

“I was sent here to kill your boss. As you can see, I succeeded,” he continued when you didn’t respond, his voice slightly louder. Closer. “I’m very good at my job.”

You whined, tears burning your eyes. Your boss was kind to everyone. He had a family. Why would anyone want to cause him harm?

“Bet you didn't know he was mixed up with some bad people. Ones who aren't so forgiving with anyone who tries to steal from them. Of course you wouldn’t know. Why would you?” He mused.

Your heart pounded when he stopped in front of the door, his feet blocking out some of the light that came through. You backed up more as if that would help you. Whatever your boss was mixed up in, it didn't justify killing him.

“Sorry you had to see the aftermath. Like I said though, you weren't supposed to be here,” he went on, knocking twice on the door and making you jump. “Can’t say I’m entirely upset that you're here. My team and I like to be thorough when we research our clients. So, naturally, we have a file on you.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming or yelling at him. He didn't really have a file on you, did he? He was just toying with you. He had to be.

But when he spoke your name like honey on his tongue, you knew he was serious.

“Been working here for what? A few years now? Kind to everyone at the office. Their ‘go-to’ when they need help, but you’re underappreciated. No one even thanked you for that cake you brought in earlier this week.” Your stomach dropped when he chuckled. How did he know? “And you haven't gone on a date in about six months. Bet you're pent up. I can help with that.”

Your skin crawled, but you stayed quiet. Your life didn't concern him. Except in a strange way it did. Because your life was now in his hands.

A sigh came from the other end of the door. “I know you won't believe me, but I won't kill you. You’re innocent in this. I do have to take you with me though because I can't trust that you won't go to the cops. Can't have loose ends. You understand that, right?” Bucky said, his tone almost pleading with you to see it his way before he knocked twice again. “So open the door.”

No. You couldn't go with him. The man was a killer. “I won't go to the cops,” you promised once you lowered your hand from your mouth. You just wanted to go home. “I won't tell anyone what I saw.”

He chuckled again. “You’re so cute. And you're a good girl, aren't you?”

Heat spread up your neck. “Please, if you just-”

“You have two options. First option, you stay in there and I break down the door. If I have to do that, I'll drag you to my car, throw you in the trunk, and chain you up in the basement once we get to my home.” Fear shot through your body. “I'll feed you bread and water so that you don't starve, but it'll keep you weak enough that you won't be able to run far or fight back should you get out of your chains. Who knows how long I’ll keep you down there?”

Your mouth parted in horror and you wondered if he could hear how hard your heart pounded through the door.

“Oh. And I'll go through the contacts on your phone and start killing them off. One by one.” He paused when you choked on a sob. “I'll start with your mom and dad.”

Squeezing your eyes shut didn't stop a tear from falling. “Please, don't,” you begged. You couldn't let anything happen to them.

“Now that's the first option,” he said in a gentler tone. “The second? You open the door and come with me. I'll hold your hand while you sit beside me in the car and I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable when I take you into my home. I’ll feed and care for you, and your loved ones will be safe.”

A shuddering breath left your lungs. Going with him willingly was the lesser of two evils. “If I go with you, you really won't hurt my family or friends?”

“You have my word, doll face.”

He could snap your neck the second you opened the door. He certainly looked strong enough to end your life without breaking a sweat. Could you trust him to keep his word? Did it matter? You sealed your fate the second you came back to the office.

At least if you went with him, there was no reason for him to hurt anyone else, right?

“You said you had a team. What about them?” You asked, sniffling as another tear fell. Would they want you dead?

He cooed, like it would comfort you in a sense. “Don't worry about my team. They’ll be here soon to take care of the mess, but they won't lay a finger on you. You have my word for that, too. Just open the door.”

If you let too much time pass, he’d likely make good on his promise to break down the door and everything else after. “Okay, Bucky,” you said, as if saying his name would humanize him. You pushed yourself to your feet, wiped your eyes, and reached for the door handle. “I’m going to trust that you’ll keep your word.”

You barely had the door open before he reached in and grabbed your arm, yanking you out so you were nearly pressed up against him. Instead of pain like you expected, it was surprisingly gentle. His iron grip wasn't breakable though and there was no use in fighting. He won. Both of you knew it.

“I like how you say my name,” he smirked, holding up your phone before he pocketed it. You made a sound before he shushed you. “I won’t hurt them since you came out here willingly, but I can’t exactly give your phone back to you now, can I?”

“I guess not.” You swallowed, your throat dry. He pulled you close and you wished you could pull away. “When will you let me go?” You asked, hoping in your heart that he'd grow bored of having you around and set you free.

His brows furrowed, confused by your question. “Never,” he stated.

A single word snuffed out the hope like an extinguished flame on a candle.

“Never?” You whispered, fear filling you all over again when you looked into his eyes. You saw your future in them, something dark and cold. You longed to feel warm. “But my-”

“I have my very own doll to play with now, so why would I let you go? Oh, don't be so tense. I promised I’d take care of you.” With a loving smile, he used the other hand to caress your cheek. You would've collapsed in a heap if he wasn't holding you. “Let’s go home.”

Home to him. A prison to you. All because you just had to go back to the office.

So, that happened. Maybe we can revisit this yandere-like Bucky in the future? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[paradiseprincesss]

dangerous woman | jonathan crane

i'm sure everyone is familiar with the album cover of "dangerous woman" and what she's wearing on it. if you don't, then i feel like the outfit and nickname won't make sense in this fic !!!

summary: you've been stealing the scarecrow's fear toxin for months, and finally, he catches you red handed.

warnings: smut, p in v, bondage, rough sex, general adult content lol, MDNI 18+ only

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

you’d been stealing the scarecrow’s fear toxin for months now — and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. 

it was profitable, okay? you would steal his supply, leaving him empty handed, and selling it at a much higher price to the criminals of gotham city. easy money, light work. simply put, you were running him out of his own business. 

jonathan was growing increasingly more frustrated with this mysterious thief that was stealing his supply — it’d been months and yet he couldn’t catch the guy. “the guy” — yes, he thought perhaps this was the work of one of the many dangerous men in gotham. 

this type of organized, deliberate crime couldn’t possibly be done by a woman working all alone — wrong. he was so wrong. this was exactly the type of crime that would be committed by a woman such as yourself. he was a psychiatrist for crying out loud, shouldn’t it be in his job description to know personality types? 

jonathan had his goons working overtime, keeping a keen eye on the drug shipments, but it was no use — you were one step ahead of jonathan every time. jonathan was ready to snap his glasses in two at this point. for someone who was trained in human behavior and complex criminal psychology, you would think he would be able to detect a pattern by now. 

tonight, you had big plans — you were going to steal his toxin from his warehouse directly.

forget shipments and hideouts, this time you were going big or going home. it was all or nothing — and right now, you wanted it all. 

your fitted, latex, corset-esque bodysuit clung to your figure as did your matching, latex thigh-high pleasers. the cherry on the top was the black bunny ears you accessorized with.

sure, it was a little risque, even bordering on kinky, but hey — it screamed dangerous woman. it was like wearing a caution sign but in the best way.

something that said: “i bite.”

dressed in your usual attire, you head to his warehouse in the dead of night. you sacrificed a prolific amount of late nights to figure out the location of this warehouse, but it would all be worth it once you were drowning in piles of cash after profiting off of his toxin. 

you’d been watching him for months — you even knew where he lived. you knew his profession, his full legal name, where he grew up, what type of food he ordered the most when he got takeout…

but what can i say? you were dedicated to your job — your morally dubious and ethically questionable job, but still a job nonetheless!

you strategically checked every entrance point of his warehouse (which, by the way, took a total of two hours of driving and twenty minutes of walking in high heels to get to!), making sure that there were no cameras or potential threats waiting outside. once you decided it was safe, you went through the back door. 

how, you ask? well, it was simple — you had a key replicated ages ago when you’d first broken into his office back at arkham asylum. in fact, you had all of his keys replicated. you know, just in case. 

stop asking why — it was for personal reasons!

after sneaking into the warehouse, you flicked on the lights and started to rummage around immediately. you came here for one thing and one thing only; fear toxin — and lots of it. you looked up at the ceiling as if some higher power up above would answer your calls. please, you thought, show me what i'm looking for.

god was your witness that night — and your prayers were answered. 

…just not in the way you thought they’d be.

as you were bent over, half hidden behind a bunch of empty crates, you were digging through piles of miscellaneous items. you were locked and loaded, so very focused on the task at hand, that you didn’t hear the front door creaking open quietly. 

jonathan heard shuffling once he entered his warehouse, the lights being turned on clearly indicated someone was here. jonathan did not panic, however — he believed that the feeling of panic and anxiety was useless to the human body. how could he make rational decisions when his mind was filled with the what if’s?

he was certain that this time, he’d caught the thief that had been stealing his toxin red handed — finally. however, as he got closer to you, he realized that you were not at all what he was imagining you to be. as he inched closer and closer, he saw two little bunny ears peeking above some empty crates.

he silently made his way around the crates, only to be met with a sight that caused his jaw to drop slightly and his cheeks to turn pink. 

you were bent over in your latex bodysuit, on your knees, rummaging through a pile of random things and the best part? you were completely oblivious to the scarecrow standing directly behind you, watching you poke your ass out as the bunny ears on your head moved every time your head did.

jonathan cleared his throat, causing you to startle. you turned around as a small gasp left your lips. once you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes — they were so blue. he seemed to have noticed you staring though, as he raised a brow and gave you an opportunity to explain yourself silently.

“um,” you started a little nervously, “hey?”

you mentally face palmed yourself — all you could come up with was an “um, hey?” so much for being one step ahead all the time.

“that’s quite the costume you have on," jonathan said smoothly, looking at you through the frames of his glasses. “i assume you’re the one who’s been stealing my supply?” 

you stayed silent as he loomed over you — he was tall. very tall. he was still standing above you as you sat almost obediently on the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse. empty handed at that. 

“listen, bunny,” he continued, “do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me?” 

finally, you found your voice. “i do — that’s why i did it.” 

“is that right?” jonathan said, crouching down so that he was now at your level. you felt awfully immature; but it was kind of…exhilarating. to be in the presence of someone so dangerous, just like you. “you’re not what i was expecting.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head to emphasize your question. his eyes darted to your black bunny ears, then back to your face. he didn't answer your question, but instead, he reached his hand out towards you. 

hesitantly, you took a hold of it as he helped you up. “do you always go around stealing what doesn’t belong to you in outfits so…promiscuous?” he asked, eyeing your body up and down shamelessly. 

“...i’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted shyly, watching his eyes trail along every part of you. “i get off on the thrill, mostly.” 

jonathan almost choked when he heard your response — if he wasn’t so attracted to you, he would’ve sprayed an extra concentrated dose of fear toxin in your face. he was standing so close to you now that you could smell his cologne — montblanc, if you remembered correctly. 

“maybe we could work out a deal,” he suggested, his voice low and almost…sultry. “i won’t kill you or turn you into the feds — if you give me what’s mine.” 

a feeling of sheer panic surged through your veins; you’d already sold all the drugs you seized from him. it’s not like you just could get any of it back, and now your life was on the line.

“i-i already sold the drugs—”

“not that,” he reprimanded, eyeing you down hungrily, “i think you know where i'm going with this.”

you stared at him blankly for a moment before you felt your cheeks heat up at his insinuation. he didn’t want the drugs, no — he wanted you. according to jonathan, you were his now. 

i mean, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? 

jonathan was not one to fall so easily, but once he laid his eyes on you, his heart stopped. a beautiful, young, witty woman who was also a thrill seeking, danger loving felon? you were just asking to be his. it didn’t help that you came dressed like you were a triple-x star, either.

“well, what’s it going to be, bunny?” he asked softly, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“what tough choices,” you pouted, looking up at him as you feigned distress, “i don't know what i'm going to do, jonathan.” 

he paused, his hand coming to grab your face gently. “how do you know my name?” he asked, his tone sharp. 

“i know everything about you — i've been watching you for months.” 

he was silent as his jaw clenched slightly. a tell that his calm, collected persona was about to crumble at any given moment — you had him where you wanted him. “i see,” he replied calmly, “i should have you admitted to arkham, really. something is very wrong inside of that pretty little head of yours.” 

you didn’t say anything back, but you bit your lip softly whilst looking into his impossibly blue eyes.

that, however, seemed to be the trigger that pushed jonathan over the edge, because suddenly, he had you pressed up against the cold cement walls of his warehouse. your ass was pressed up against the obvious tent in his pants as your face was met with the rough texture of the cement. 

“i’m going to test your limits,” he breathed, “a little experiment between you and i.” 

“i live for danger,” you mumbled against the wall, not letting up as he continued to threaten you. his threats were fuelling you, if anything — didn’t he hear you when you said that you got off on the thrill of things? 

“prove it, bunny,” he challenged, and you pushed away from the wall, grabbing him by the tie that hung loosely around his neck. 

holding onto it with an iron grip, you brought your lips awfully close to his as you whispered out to him. “take this off,” you instructed, “and tie me up.”

“rope bunny — i should have known.” he teased back, undoing his tie. 

roughly, he pulled your body back against his. your ass was flush against his bulge, and he bound your wrists up with his silky, red tie. “walk,” he commanded softly, guiding you into a whole separate room — a room with an old bed. 

he helped you sit on the edge of the bed before shutting the door completely, making his way back over to you. with your hands tied, you were limited in terms of mobility, but jonathan's hands were free — and he intended to make very good use of them. 

“latex,” he pointed out, reaching over to your bodysuit, “bold choice...but it looks good on you.” 

his comment caught you off guard — his tone was far too sweet for what was about to go down. his voice had you in a trance for a moment, but the feeling of him trying to maneuver your garment off of your body brought you back to reality. after a few moments of fumbling with the tight suit, he finally got you out of it. 

his lips were on yours in mere seconds, kissing you roughly as he squeezed the sides of your neck gently. he continued to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you both moaned into the steamy kiss. however, after a few minutes, he breathlessly pulled away and took a good look at the sight that was in front of him.

you were suddenly very aware of how exposed you were — it’s not like you wore a bra or any panties underneath your latex bodysuit. there’s nothing quite like the thrill of wearing nothing underneath to get your blood flowing…

he let out a heavy breath, looking slightly disheveled as he took in every inch of your perfect body. the way your tits sat up, the way your skin was slightly flushed, the way you were on display like an art piece at some french museum — you were a divinity.

not to mention those latex thigh-highs that you still had on — and the bunny ears, too. fuck, maybe he’d keep you like this. take a picture and frame it to really make a point of you being an art piece for his eyes only. 

suddenly, he harshly pushed you down and flipped you around on the bed so that your stomach was against the mattress.

he hoisted your hips upwards, putting you in a face down ass up position. the way he positioned you made how wet you were all the more obvious, your glistening cunt on display for him as he choked back a moan at just the sight of you this powerless.

you heard his pants being unzipped, along with the sound of his belt being undone, and his hard, thick cockhead was brushing up against your sticky folds. he pushed into your tight hole, making the both of you moan. his hands were suddenly reaching for your bound ones, gripping onto the tie as he started to fuck you mercilessly. 

“j-jon!” you squeaked out against the sheets as you felt his cock drilling into you at a brutal pace, sure to leave you sore for days to come. “s-slow down, f–uck!”

“you can take it, bunny,” he assured you lowly, continuing to ram into your tight little hole. “you’re going to fucking. take. it.”

you let out a strangled moan, feeling his cock brush up against that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. it was only a matter of time before you were creaming his cock, the angle giving him access to the deepest parts of you. you were certain that at one point, you swore you’d felt him inside of your stomach with how deep and how forcibly he was fucking your cunt. 

“is this what you — fuck —  wanted, bunny?” he groaned, giving your ass a harsh smack with one hand as the other was still gripping the tie around your wrists. “you just needed to have your tight little pussy stretched by my thick fucking cock?” 

“y-yes, fuck yes!” you whined, “i need to be filled, j-jonathan please—”

“i know,” he cooed with faux sympathy, “you’re such a needy little bunny. you get a cock in your tight fucking cunt and suddenly you’re not so tough anymore, are you?” 

his words went straight to your core, rather than your head, soaking you even further and making his cock slip in and out of you with pure ease. he was slamming himself into your dripping cunt, fucking you raw as you took him so deep that you were full on screaming his name over and over again.

“j-jonathan, fuuuck!” you wailed, letting him ruin you entirely.

this wasn’t exactly how you planned the night to go, but it was better than you’d imagined. better than you’d hoped. you couldn’t dwell on the thought for very long though, because suddenly he was pulling out of you right before you were about to come, much to your displeasure.

you whined, causing him to scoff a laugh. he flipped you over to that you were looking at him now, in missionary, before he sunk back into you. you let out a bratty whine along with a pout. your hands were still tied so you couldn’t touch him — and you were getting desperate. 

“please!” you exasperated as he fucked you stupid, “let me t-touch you, oh my god—”

jonathan watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and finally, he decided you’d been good enough for a reward. he reached behind your back, still balls deep inside of your warm, wet hole, and quickly undid the knot around your wrists.

and as soon as your wrists were free — you were clawing at his back. 

“fuck,” jonathan groaned, feeling your hands pawing at him.

his hand suddenly reached down, playing with your clit as you mewled out incoherent babbles and pleas. he continued to press his fingers against your bundle of nerves, bringing you closer and closer to the edge once more as he plowed you. 

your cunt was dripping with your arousal, you’d never been so wet in your life. you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as you were close to coming, and jonathan moaned as he felt your cunt flutter around his thick cock. “close?” he asked breathlessly, and you just nodded — unable to speak as your orgasm washed over you in a blur.

“thaaaat’s it,” he growled, “pretty baby.” 

you whined, looking to the side as you came down from your high, but he continued to ram himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. you reached for his biceps, clinging onto them for dear life as his cock stretched your walls right open. 

“i’m about to come, fuck!” he groaned. “should i come inside? i think i will — you like the thrill, right bunny?” 

before you could protest, he was spilling his warm, thick cum into your abused little cunt. you were on birth control but you hadn’t taken your pills in days — so you were going to have to figure this out later, after the reality of what could happen would set in. he was right though; you did love a good thrill. something to get your adrenaline pumping and your blood rushing. 

you were a fear addict, and he was the supplier of fear — you were freakishly perfect for each other in all the worst ways. 

after both his and your endorphin levels gradually calmed down, he pulled out and watched the mixture of his sticky, white cum and your arousal drip out of you.

“you know, i could use someone like you to help me distribute my toxin — i'd pay you more than whatever you're making now.” he said after a minute, and your head shot up.

of course — his version of pillowtalk was bringing up business. he seemed to read your thoughts unnervingly well though, because before you could say anything, he was talking once more.

“we’d make a good team, don’t you think? since you’re my girl now and all.” he teased.

“am i?” you teased back, placing a kiss on his plush lips. “hm, i don’t see the harm — i'm game if you are.”

“that’s my girl.” he said softly, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “i’m curious though, out of all the people in gotham — what made you want to steal from me?”

“what can i say?” you whispered, “somethin’ bout you makes me wanna do things that i shouldn’t.” 

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

Blue Shadow Virus

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Blue Shadow Virus Arc, Needles, medical talk, science talk, infections, mentions of dead clones, this is a long one, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (Thank you for liking my writing <3) @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69

You were cleaning up the medical bay when your holo beeped rapidly at your desk. As soon as you pressed the button to answer, General Skywalker appeared, looking panicked.

“Doctor! What do you know about the Blue Shadow Virus!?” 

You shook your head in confusion, “I’m sorry…sir?” He was supposed to be on Naboo for a mission. You weren’t entirely sure of the details though…

“Padme, Ahsoka and Rex are trapped in a lab that's full of the virus in the air.” He explained rapidly, “What do you know about it!?”

“I-what!?” You stood so suddenly the chair at your desk fell back, “General, the Blue Shadow Virus killed all of its hosts thousands of years ago through water, how…”

“His name is Nuvo Vindi.”

Your blood ran cold. 

You’ve been taught through your schooling the importance of ethics and morality in medicine. Vindi’s research had come up several times as prime examples of unethical science, and the consequences of breaking such regulations. Even before the war, Nuvo Vindi had been thrown out of the medical community for his downright cruel methods. 

So this is where the bastard had been…

You furrowed your brow, “Anyone infected has 48 hours to live. It causes dysfunction of the respiratory tract…even inhibits the blood itself from carrying oxygen properly. And it has a 99% lethality rate…”

Your heart broke. That was a death sentence unless they had protection. Rex will be dead in 48 hours…Ahsoka too. And Senator Amidala, who you only met briefly once before. 

“Doctor, please think of something, anything!” Anakin pleaded with you. He was frenzied and desperate. Something you hadn’t seen before.

General Kenobi stepped into the view of the holo, “What Anakin is asking, is what do you know about viruses in general, and can that knowledge be used to help?” 

You thought for a moment. You had contacts through the community. Those with more knowledge on viral outbreaks and infections. 

“Give me some time. I know who to contact.” You responded. 

The younger Jedi visibility deflated and nodded, “Please, hurry…”

Once he hung up, it finally hit you. 

He said Padme, not Senator Amidala…

It didn’t matter. You didn’t have a lot of time. Long distance calls weren’t possible on your holo, so you practically shoved Admiral Yularen aside when you got to the command bridge. A couple of bridge officers weren’t happy that you used the venator itself to make some ‘personal’ calls. You didn’t let them distract you as you reached out to your contacts.

A majority of them led to dead-ends. 

“100% lethality.” 

“No cure.”

“The virus is long gone, who cares?”

Until you made one more call. An old mentor in a brief tryst with virology you had in your schooling. She gave you a clue, “All viruses can be slowed by inhibitors, replication can be slowed until a cure can be made. It’ll buy a patient time, you know this. Why are you asking?”

“Theoretically, how would you cure a virus that you’ve never seen before?” You asked, swallowing.

“Break the capsid. You’ll need to know the exact protein that’s used, but…if you find a compound to do it, you can theoretically cure anything.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” You hung up and called General Skywalker again, this time on your personal holo as you rushed back to the medical bay. You needed supplies.

He answered, looking even more panicked and disheveled, “Did you find anything?” 

“How much of the lab is still intact?” you asked him, “I can buy everyone infected some time using viral inhibitors, and if the equipment is still intact I might be able to get some information that can be used for a cure.” 

“Are you suggesting you go down into the lab?” Kenobi interrupted, “Doctor, you said yourself that this virus is lethal.”

It hit you exactly what you were suggesting. It was dangerous. You’d have protection, but it would be temporary. An EVA suit wouldn’t last forever, but you had to try. 

You nodded, sounding resolute, “I am.” 

“Get down here.” was all General Skywalker said before cutting the call. He was panicking, badly. It was obvious to everyone around him. 

As you prepared yourself and a pack with the medicine needed to help the infected, your thoughts returned to Anakin and…Padme.

They were friends. According to both of them. 

But…well, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between them. 

Like you and Rex-Stop it!

You were probably reading too much into it…Probably.

Instead of landing in the hangar at Theed, the LAAT dropped you off at the landing zone in the middle of a grassy swamp. General Kenobi and General Skywalker met you as you stepped off, the latter looking disheveled. He clearly had been pacing and running his hand through his brown hair. Pure anxiety was rolling off of him in waves.

“Doctor, are you certain you want to do this?” Obi-wan asked as you approached. 

You adjusted your com on your wrist. These damn suits were a pain to move in, but you put the EVA helmet on and nodded, “I am. Where's the hatch to the lab?”

“Are you sure this will work?” Anakin asked, voice cracking from stress. He walked with you, leading you to the entrance of the lab. 

You shifted the pack over your shoulder, “The viral inhibitors I brought should buy more time for those who are infected. In the meantime, I’ll collect the samples and analyze them for information. Once I know exactly what I’m dealing with, I’ll tell you what could be used as a cure.” 

You approached the hatch door. To avoid any danger to those around, you’d have to enter quickly. A little bit of the virus leaking out would easily be handled by the environment and atmosphere, but if the entire lab’s contents were released, it could cause disastrous issues. 

Especially if it contaminated the water. 

Anakin looked at you in worry. You’ve never seen the General so…scared. The situation called for it, of course, but it still surprised you, “What…What will you know what to look for?” 

“I’m a doctor, sir.” You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, “I’m supposed to know viruses and how to treat them.” 

At your words, he seemed to relax slightly. 

Without any more parting words, you opened the hatch and got inside the lab. Immediately your vision was compromised with the aerosolized virus. The blue was dense, denser than a desert storm. Carefully, you climbed down the ladder to the floor, and once steady on your feet, you activated your com. 

“Commander, I’m in the lab.” Your words were quiet, trying to reach Ahsoka, “Where are you?”

“What do you mean you're in the lab!?” It was Rex who asked, now even more worried. His voice was about as panicked as Skywalker’s was.

You furrowed your brow, answering, “Did the General not inform you? I have medicine that will help.” 

“No, Anakin didn’t tell us.” Padme responded this time. You could hear the annoyance in her sigh, “Of course he didn’t…”

“Sky guy…” Ahsoka groaned, “We’re in a safe room on the second floor..” Her words were cut off by a coughing fit, “We’ve cleared the droids already, so it should be safe for you.” 

“On it.” 

Navigating was difficult. The virus clouded everything in front of you, causing you to get turned around multiple times. The fact that you didn’t even know the layout of the lab didn’t help. You made one more turn and paused, through the infectious smoke, you could see the shape of two droids. They turned sharpy when they noticed you.

“Lifeform!” 

“Shoot it!” 

Fuck!

You dove back into the hall you just stepped out of as soon as they started shooting. One of the shots nicked the wall, causing sparks to startle you for a second. Your hand ghosted over your hip and you swore. You didn’t have your pistol, since this damn suit didn’t have a holster.

By whatever space gods existed you hated these fucking suits!

Your com beeped and Padme’s voice came through, “Doctor, we hear shooting. What's going on!?”

“You forgot two droids.” You answered over the noise, “And, admittedly, I don’t have my blaster.”

Less than a minute later, you heard more blaster fire and the telltale sound of droids clattering onto the ground. You peaked out of the corner, seeing the familiar shape of clone trooper armor through the haze. 

“Rex is on his way.” Ahsoka informed you belatedly, “I think…” 

You laughed softly, standing up, “Found him.” Disconnecting the call, you approached him and the other trooper, “I am so glad to see you.” 

“I wish I could say the same. What are you doing here!?” The captain snapped, “This virus is dangerous!”

His anger took you entirely off guard. First Anakin was an anxious mess, and now Rex was enraged. Emotions were clearly high on this mission…

“I know. But I have medicine.” You responded, keeping calm. You’ve been yelled at before. By patients and even other troopers. You could handle it. Even if it hurts for Rex to shout at you.

Rex’s shoulder slumped. He seemed to have caught himself in how he acted and quickly shifted back into his professional attitude, “I..right. Yes. the medicine.” 

The trooper behind him, Nere, you’ve recognized, began coughing and wheezing, leaning against the wall for support. Immediately, your hands reached into your pack and pulled out a small, portable oxygen tank. You got his helmet off and the mask over his mouth and nose within seconds. He gasped, putting his hands over yours to hold the small tank steady.

“Deep breaths.” You encouraged gently, “Keep breathing.”

It’ll only last a few minutes, but anything would help at this point.

Rex motioned for you to follow him down the hall, leading you to Padme, Ahsoka and the others. You got the trooper to lean against you as you followed the captain to the safe room.

Once inside, taking in the numbers, you got to work. Padme was the best out of everyone, so you’d have to treat her last. Rex was active enough to be walking around and even get the troopers in one part of the room, keeping them closer together. Ahsoka, based on the dark veins marking her orange skin, and earlier coughing, needed to be first. 

Jar-Jar….was Jar-Jar. He wasn’t infected at all. In fact, he was the only one other than you in a proper EVA suit.

Rex helped you get Nere to the ground. Once he was sitting against the wall, you stood and nodded to Ahsoka, “You first, Commander.” 

She seemed surprised, but moved to sit on one of the metal boxes that were stacked around the room. Once you were at her side, you opened your pack and began to get the medicine in order. As you focused, she raised her com to her mouth, “Master, why didn’t you tell us you were sending the Doctor down here?” 

After a second, Kenobi responded, “I knew Anakin forgot to do something.” 

The young Padawan rolled her eyes but didn't respond. She moved her face away and broke into a coughing fit. Luckily, you had another hand-held oxygen tank that you got gently over her face. 

As she held it and breathed, you started with the injections. Padme approached to watch you, the Senator looking at the syringes with slight interest, “What is the medicine supposed to do?” 

“The first injection is to boost the immune system,” You answered her as you worked, moving to the second needle, “This one, is to encourage oxygen to bind to blood cells.” Ahsoka nodded, also watching as you poked and prodded her arm. 

You carefully picked up the third and last injector, “And this is called a viral inhibitor, it works by slowing down the virus’ replication. But it won’t stop it indefinitely.” 

Senator Amidala looked grateful to you as you explained, “Thank you, for helping us.” 

“It’s my job to help people, Senator.” You returned her appreciative smile as you got a small patch to cover the needle marks on Ahsoka’s arm. 

“Hey, I already feel better.” the padawan perked up, “It's working.”

You stood and nodded, “Good.” Turning, you moved onto the others. Your work was swift and efficient. Each trooper gave you a ‘thanks doc’ as soon as you finished with them. 

However, you paused, kneeling by two of them. They were both still. The one on the left rested his head on the shoulder of his brother. At first, they looked asleep. But they’re stillness indicated they were dead.

“They didn’t make it.” Rex informed you sadly, “They were at the center of when the virus was released.” 

You had been too late. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, moving over to the Captain in order to treat him now. 

“What a waste…” Senator Amidala sighed, looking down sadly. 

“With all due respect, Senator,” The clone Captain spoke with politeness and professionalism, “It’s what they’re born to do.” 

That sentiment didn’t make her feel any better, “I hope their sacrifice brings us closer to peace.” 

“It will,” Ahsoka crossed her legs as she still sat on the metal crate, “We’ll bring peace to the galaxy.” She lowered her oxygen mask to talk before raising it again to breathe. 

“There,” Your eyes met Rex’s, “All done.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” he smirked softly, warmth and appreciation in his brown eyes.

Padme stepped up to you, “If we survive this, I’d like to buy you a cup of caf.”

You laughed softly, rolling up her sleeve to administer the medicine. 

Ahsoka was silent, watching Captain Rex. The clone hadn’t said a word when he sprinted from the safe room to help you. It actually startled her, seeing the normally level-headed trooper act so irrationally. 

Why would Rex…

The padawan leaned forward, eyes on him as he checked on the rest of the men. 

Why…

Her thoughts were interrupted by you, “Alright Senator, done. This medicine buys you time.” 

“How much time?” One of the troopers asked, finding the strength to stand up. Seems the treatment you brought also managed to bring back everyone's stamina. 

You sighed, “Honestly, with the Blue Shadow Virus, it could be hours to days. I’ve never dealt with this virus before. No one has in over a thousand years.” 

“We’ll have to make the most of the time we have,” Padme sounded determined, “We should permanently seal the lab.” 

“Not yet, we still have a plan.” You sounded confident, yet calm, “The lab's main equipment hadn’t been destroyed right? I need to get to it.” 

“What? Why?” Ahsoka stood, “We should destroy this stuff, make sure no one can do something like this ever again.”

Your eyes met hers steadily. Normally, you’d try to act professional, as she’s technically your superior, but when it comes to matters of health and medicine, well…

You outrank everyone.

Your explanation of the strategy was quick but detailed. You went step-by-step of what you and the Generals had planned. Your words took the tone of that of a competent doctor, as if explaining a procedure to quell a patient's anxiety. This was what you knew, and it was clear in how you broke down everything for those in the room. 

Without any other questions, Rex, Ahsoka and the other troopers led you to the main lab area. As you walked, you were already coming up with the protocol to break down all components of a virus. 

Your mentor suggested breaking the capsid, the protective protein shell. Though, destroying the envelope would also be effective. There was also disruption of ion channels. You had options. No matter how you did it, a dead virus was a dead virus. 

And there was plenty in the air you could use for analysis.

“We’re here.” Padme interrupted your thoughts, causing you to snap back into focus. 

Through the thick, never ending blue smoke, you could make out lab benches, bottles of chemicals and some equipment. You were riding on the assumption that Dr.Vindi would have the supplies and machinery to perform what you needed.

The unethical fucker engineered the virus. If he didn’t have the basic tools for protein analysis, you’d question how he managed to do all of this to begin with. 

With a nod, you took a breath and stepped forward. Your mind snapped into that of a scientist now. You fell back into the years of classes, lab work and research you did in order to become a doctor. The world around you tuned out as you worked.

You moved with practiced movements, stepping over broken droids as you practically danced through the lab. You collected some of the smoke in the air, closing it off in a test tube. As you put the sample in a centrifuge and turned the machine on, you began to collect chemicals that you could use. 

Wordlessly, you got to a table as you collected the supplies. Your steps stopped at a shelf and you tried to kneel to grab another bottle. However, the stiff suit was inhibiting your movements. 

“Doctor?” Padme approached, noticing your stalling. 

You swore under your breath before grabbing your helmet and ripping it off, “This damn suit!” Your throw was hard enough to crack the glass when you hurled the round thing against the wall. The suit slipped off your body, and you kicked it away before properly kneeling and grabbing the bottle of ethanol.

“What-!?”

“Couldn’t move in that damn thing!” You spat, “Always hated them.” Immediately, the foggy air hit your tongue, and you tasted iron. The air was thick, feeling more like dust rather than anything breathable. You had to suck it up though, ignoring how, if this didn’t work, you just sealed your own fate. 

Well, there were worse ways to die than surrounded by friends. 

“W-why!?” Rex practically followed you as you continued around the lab, “Now you’ll get sick like the rest of us!” He got in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I know. But if I can't move, I can’t work properly.” You pulled away and returned to the table with the chemicals. Your eyes were on your hands as you began to make reagents. After a minute the centrifuge stopped and you turned to grab your sample. Of course, in any other situation, you wouldn’t disregard safety. 

Afterall, you should be wearing proper gloves when working with some of these mixtures, but you didn’t have the time to dig around the lab for them. 

You poured one of the reagents into the tube with the virus and mixed them before putting them back in the centrifuge. 

Spin down the samples. 

Separate the proteins from viral debris.

Remove the liquid that contained the proteins you needed.

You were in your element. 

The entire process took a couple of hours. Once you had the proteins properly separated and prepared, you moved to the analysis machine and put the sample in. It would take some time for the equipment to read the proteins of the virus, but the process was moving along. 

Once the machine was running, you sighed and stepped back. After a breath, a cough forced its way past your lips. Right…the viral smoke. You were infected the moment you ripped off the EVA suit.

“Now we wait.” You looked at Rex who kept his eyes on you. He was standing straight, arms crossed. He seemed to have calmed down from you throwing yourself into the danger of the blue fog. 

“How long?” He asked, stepping over to you. He looked you over and frowned, “You’re starting to look pale.”

Well, you had less time than you thought. You glanced at your palms and flexed them, noticing the darkened veins. 

Damn, the Blue Shadow Virus works fast.

It never occurred to you that the virus could have worked much quicker when it was aerosolized. Judging by the way Ahsoka had begun to cough again, the medicine wasn’t as effective as you hoped as well. 

You turned to look at the analysis machine. It had beeped, and you read the results on the datapad attached to it. 

Bingo. 

Your com was on and to your lips without wasting a second, “General, I have the results. You’ll want to find something that contains anamitadine or risitine. That's the component that will break the virus’ capsid without poisoning us.”

Anakin’s voice came through, sounding relieved, “Thank you doctor!” he hung up, causing you to flinch slightly.

After a second, General Kenobi spoke through his own com, “We will speak with some of the scientists here in Theed. In the meantime, keep everyone as alive as possible.” 

“Will do, Generals.” You hung up the com and turned to Rex, “I suppose now we wait…” 

And wait you were forced to. Among those hours pacing and administering more medicine, you sat down, leaning against the wall. Ahsoka joined you on your left, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hey Doc…?” The padawan spoke softly, clearly getting hit hard by the virus, “You're a good doctor.” she sounded tired. Fatigued and sleepy.

You looked at her, adjusting her position so she was more comfortable, “Thank you Ahsoka. You’re a good Jedi.” The poor girl was trembling slightly. She was clearly scared, being trapped and unable to do anything to save the people around her….

She was just a kid. A child who was forced to be a soldier. 

Padme sat down to your right, leaning her head against your other shoulder. Both of them were fatigued, remaining silent. 

Being as gentle and slow as you could, you made a call, “General. How’s the search for a cure?” Your sentence trailed as you started to cough. You’d give yourself some of those injections but you were running low. Everyone else needed them more than you. 

“Trying our best,” Obi-wan answered, “How's everyone else?”

You turned to look at both Padme and Ahsoka. Both of them had drifted to sleep. Good. they needed rest. Jar-Jar sat next to Senator Amidala, but kept space between him and her. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep as well, it seemed.

“Tired.” you croaked, “I don’t know how much time is left. I’ve run out of viral inhibitors.” 

“You need to hang on,” Anakin burst on the other end, “Please, you need to keep everyone alive.” 

You jerked, coughing into your palm before addressing the Generals, “I’m trying my best…just…hurry.” Your eyes looked up at Rex. He had regret written all over his face, but wordlessly, he sat down next to Ahsoka. The other troopers joined him. 

You learned from Hardcase that sometimes, after an extremely stressful mission, the clones will move their mattresses together and sleep in a pile. It was unknown to you if the drive for affection was a result of their upbringing or mandalorian DNA. Regardless, it was nice to know the men relied on each other so much. No one was ever truly alone.

“Vi Kelir oyacyir.” You whispered, causing Nere to look up at you. Even through the helmet you could tell he found comfort in your words.

“Vi Kelir.” He mumbled, laying his head on the lap of the other soldier.

At some point you had fallen asleep with the others. You drifted, wrapping an arm around Ahsoka to keep her close. Someone, Rex, interlocked his fingers with yours. Padme snuggled close into your side. 

For a second, you thought it was OK to die like this. 

Until you woke to a needle in your neck and an oxygen mask being shoved over your face. You jerked, ready to fight until you heard the voices of medical droids, “We are here to help you.”

“Get them all to the surface.” 

Medical droids… A rescue. 

The warmth of the pile you and the others had been in waned as everyone was pulled away and put onto hover stretchers. You turned your head, eyes open meeting Rex’s. He was pale, just like you and the others. Despite that, he gave you a tired smile. One you returned.

Generals Skywalker and Kenobi were just in time. 

As every one of you were carried from the underground lab, you tried to take in the state of everyone else. They were your patients. You had to make sure they were alright. However, the medical droid kept you down on the stretcher.

You only stopped trying to get up when you were outside and General Kenobi checked up on you while Skywalker was with Padme.

“Seems almost everyone made it out alive.” Obi-wan grinned as he complimented you, “Your skills are priceless Doctor. I’m not sure what we would have done without you.” He walked beside your stretcher as you were being loaded up into the LAAT to return to the venator, “Keep this up and I may steal you for my battalion. I’m sure the 212th can use your talents.” 

“Not a chance,” Anakin approached, putting a hand on your shoulder, “You saved them, Doctor. Thank you. Everyone will make a full recovery, all because of you.” 

You smiled despite the tiredness that was buried deep in your bones, “Happy to help, General.” you croaked, “I’m just glad the plan worked.” 

“Me too.” The brown-haired Jedi responded, “Padme could have…I mean, Ahsoka, Rex and Senator Amidala would have been lost without you.” His blue eyes weren’t looking at you, but at the senator loaded somewhere else on the LAAT.

Ah. Now it makes sense…

You reached up and put your hand on his, once he looked down, you spoke, “Don’t worry General. I made sure Senator Amidala and the others were safe.” You winked.

I know. And I won’t tell a soul.

He gave you a relieved smile.

[icepip]

tags: fem reader. not explicit smut but allusions and the start of it. masturbation. hiromi having a crush on youuu. <650 words.

hiromi stays back in his office when everyone else has gone home the first time you, his assistant, wear a pencil skirt. he says he needs to look over the case a few more times, just to be sure he didn't miss anything. you offer to stay, even if it's just to bring him coffee when his eyes feel heavy.

he insists you go home, his voice laced with a tiredness you're not used to. it sounds different, a bit tense. you relent with a sigh, packing your things up that are scattered about.

"have a good night, mr. higuruma." you say as you open the door, giving him one last look before you leave, a sweet smile on your lips. the sound of your heels echo in the empty hallway until they fade away, leaving hiromi alone.

he sighs, his body relaxing into the seat, suit jacket discarded and thrown on the small table. the cool leather of his desk chair is a welcome change to the heat coursing through his veins.

hot.

he feels so incredibly warm. loosening a few of his shirt buttons isn't enough, skin practically burning when his fingers graze against his chest. the ceiling fan circulates the same stiff air that's been suffocating him since you came into the office. he wants to crawl out of his skin to find relief, wants to sink into a tub full of ice until his bones become as brittle as those cubes.

hiromi isn't blind, he knows you're attractive. and you're smart — funny, too. you snort at his deadpan retorts, a cute sound that makes him smile every time. you're perfect and if he found you ten years earlier, he might've proposed on the spot.

well, ten years earlier and not working underneath him. you're completely morally and ethically taken. not only would it be unprofessional for hiromi to act on his feelings, it'd be a whirlwind of other problems, too. power imbalances would come into play, possible favoritism (not that he has any other assistants at the moment), and of course there's the chance you don't reciprocate.

so he pushes those thoughts to the side. focuses on being professional and friendly. tries his hardest to not let his mind wander to you when he needs to relieve stress.

it doesn't work, of course. he has his eyes and his hands and his imagination. that's all he'll allow himself. all he can allow himself before he falls deeper than he can crawl out.

"fuck me..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, his mind supplying him with the image of you today. a pencil skirt. hiromi is hot and bothered by a skirt.

the fabric hugged your form perfectly, showing the curves of your body that he thought of grabbing onto as he pulled you close. and damn, your legs looked amazing, too. give him the opportunity and he'd fall to his knees, kissing up and up and up those gorgeous calves. he'd worship the heat between your thighs, tongue lapping all you have to give.

his cock twitches in his pants, a reminder of why he insisted on you leaving. hiromi needed to be alone. he was barely able to focus on a single thing other than you all day, mind instead supplying scenarios, all of which were inappropriate.

he wasn't lying that he wanted to look over that case again. he just needed to get rid of all distractions first.

guilt washes over him, his hand resting on top of his bulge, gently squeezing as he hopes to think of anything but you.

it doesn't work.

a heavy exhale leaves his lips as he pulls out his half hard cock, giving into his desires.

hopefully, he can look you in your eyes tomorrow and the weight of his actions won't keep his head down.

[devilfic]

Saw the previous Matt Murdock post and I can’t help but think of him as college professor dynamic???!

LIKE HOW WOULD HE BE?

❝criminal law professor!matt murdock❞

cw: law school professor matt being everyone's wet dream, brief mention of alcohol, brief suggestive content. words: 1.3k.

AHHHHHHH criminal law professor!matt who never set out to teach but got invited to a lecture held by an old lawyer friend of his and built up such good rapport with the students that when one of them came up to him after class and told him they'd sign up for any class he'd teach, the cogs started turning

only teaches one class a semester, probably one class a year

one of those professors that almost everybody wants to get in with but is prone to several dropouts after the first two weeks because of his teaching style

he's very casual most of the time but very much hands-on and will not let up on you for a second if he thinks it's a teaching moment

he's relentless. he is not an easy A but you will come out of his class better than you went in

his favorite part of the job is getting into ethical debates with the students

likes to do a lot of mock trials and very regularly stick his students with cases that test their moral judgment

it's not to make them feel bad or play at having the higher moral ground if they make a "wrong" decision, but more so to force them to consider what they're willing to compromise on to win a case

and whether winning cases is the best thing for them or for their client

he's the type of professor who will gladly stay an hour or two after class just chatting it up with students over cases he's done in the past or answering questions about practicing law professionally

he grades hard but he always offers ample feedback to make his students do better next time

has a saying that he'll never turn down a coffee from a student trying to butter him up

and immediately follows up with "it won't make me change your grade but it will help me remember your name"

this motherfucker definitely likes to sit on the edge of his desk while teaching, too

undoes his tie a bit when he gets passionate about a topic, rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, has to stop himself from pacing the room without his walking stick when he feels particularly excited about a discussion

does not care about late work like at all

as long as you get it to him before the end of the semester, you'll be fine

you'll be panicking, emailing him about how you're so sorry but your laptop got stolen on your way home and that you'll have to rewrite your entire paper from scratch in the school lab tonight so it'll be a day late and you'll get a response back in 4 minutes that just says "No problem, stay safe - Sent from my iPhone"

and... your laptop is mysteriously returned a few days later. apparently whoever stole it had a serious change of heart. you also got a 98 on your paper

(he may not be swayed to change your grade with coffee but he is a bit of a softie when it comes to stuff like this)

he's also just the hottest professor on campus. do I even have to say it at this point

comes to class everyday in a nice button-up, very form-fitting trousers (none of his students have ever seen him in a pair of jeans nor will they), glasses perched on the tip of his nose, a leather messenger bag at his side that is mysteriously well-stocked with first aid supplies, and a loose red tie around his throat

do you see the vision

cancels class often because of daredevil business and treats these as days to work on papers

tries not to cut class short because of daredevil business

it actually makes him a bit sad when he has to, and so he makes it an open invitation that if students catch him out in the wild or walking around campus, they can bother him as much as they want

his TA is a little (a lot) exasperated with him but he makes up for it by buying them food. it has actually put a dent in his budget at this point but their appeasement makes it worth it

he has an office on campus but he very rarely uses it for office hours, you can pretty much find him anywhere BUT his office

he likes to meet in coffee shops or lecture halls or parks on campus because he feels like it's less daunting for students to just sit and talk out in the open

he's very popular on valentine's day

students and faculty alike will shower him with chocolates and mini bottles of wine and roses and proposals to go out for drinks sometime and he always accepts the gifts graciously

and then passes them onto his TA, karen, or foggy

although he'd be lying if he said he didn't keep some of the wine for himself

he has a strict rule against dating within the university, he'd just rather it not be awkward

now,,, a one night stand with a fellow professor maybe? no strings attached? he's not opposed to that

let's just say that tie and office are getting put to good use-

if you're a student and want a piece though, you're gonna have to wait until you've gotten your degree, sorry

he happens to like his one class a semester/year and he'd very much not like to deal with the legal repercussions of getting caught with a student. repercussions of which he is well-versed in

but alright. I mentioned that he sometimes has to cancel class because of daredevil business and so I MUST tackle the big question: does anyone suspect him

yes and no

it starts out simple. sometimes he shows up to lectures with cuts and bruises, some bandaged but fresh, and swears that it's nothing to worry about. you might catch him wearing the rare sweater on those days, even

when he gets questioned about it, he sort of spins some half-baked lie about boxing being his part-time hobby

and then people start noticing that he's never around when there's a daredevil sighting

now, he doesn't always cancel class for daredevil business. sometimes it's because he's got a client to take care of!

but he also loves to invite his students to sit in on the less serious cases so. what gives

one student starts a rumor and then it kind of becomes a joke in class that professor murdock is secretly daredevil

most of them don't take it seriously because how could their sweet, chill, blind professor murdock be a crime-fighting vigilante? it just wouldn't make sense!

and you know what this bitch does? he feeds into it

student: yeah, professor murdock is daredevil. that's a good one

matt: what do you mean?

student: oh, it's just a joke! we know you couldn't be daredevil

matt: but I am

student: hahaha that's funny

matt: no, I really am daredevil. haven't you noticed? same build, never in the same place at the same time, devilishly handsome

student: uh-huh, sure thing professor

matt: is it cause I'm blind? that's pretty insensitive, don't you think? you don't think blind people just read braille all day and get walked across the street, do you? is that what you think?

student: well I mean no but like... I mean.... uh....

matt: nahhh I'm just fucking with you. I am daredevil, though

student: hahaha for sure man, definitely

matt:

he does fly too close to the sun one day though when one of his students tries to debate him in class about it for shits and giggles and accidentally comes up with such a compelling argument for why he could definitely be daredevil that he sort of just nervously laughs and stops making jokes about it for the next four weeks

also keeps a flask in his desk drawer to pour into his mug after a rough night on patrol. but if anyone asks, no the fuck he didn't. mind your business. you have a C in his class

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[ichore]

CHAPTER 1

pairing(s): nanami kento x afab!reader x higuruma hiromi

synopsis: the three of you passed the bar and decided to celebrate in your own little way

warnings, tags: MINORS DNI, no curse au, nanami is kinda ooc, kissing, fondling, smoking, not proofread

wc: est 2k

masterlist

“It's like a church.” you whispered as you stood in the empty courtroom; the chemicals of the cleaning supplies still lingered in the air. It mixed with the woody smell of the stand, seats and tables of where usually life changing decisions were argued for and against.

“And then there she is, with her tits out in all their glory.” said Nanami Kento, who was on your left, while staring at the small statue of Lady Justice who stood proudly on the Stand ahead of where a Judge normally sat. His comment earned a furrow of your brows, but as he lifted the rim of his beer bottle to his mouth, you realized he already drank the majority of his drink - and he was already at his fourth one.

“Do you have something against breasts, Nanami?” Higuruma Hiromi slurred, the heat of his body warmed your right side. His black strands of hair fell messily on his forehead, his tie slightly loosened and awry enough to see the drops of sweat pearling on his neck. He was a mess, but the glint in his dark eyes told you that perhaps this was the happiest day of his life so far.

“Shut up, and enjoy your free drinks.” Kento spat. “Not like you look like you need any more, though.”

“Be nice, Ken-Ken…” your hand rested on Kento's shoulder blade for the span of his fleeting annoyance. Unlike Hiromi and you, Nanami Kento came from a rich family; he had the money and the arrogance to easily survive Law School, to be the second best of his class. The dreams of many came easily and fell on his lap. No matter what he wanted, he got it. Except for you, and the first place of the class - which Hiromi earned.

“I've told you not to call me that.” a defeated sigh left Kento's lips as his eyes wandered to yours that already had the curve of a mischievous smirk. “What are we doing here, anyway? We just passed the Bar, we're going to see this place a lot from now on.”

“Not like this,” you began to walk towards the stand. The lull of your own beer became evident in your unstable steps, the clicking of your heels echoed against the wooden floor, and both men silently watched and followed you as you sat on one of the tables. You held your cold drink against your chest to soothe yourself. “I'm going to be a Judge.”

“That's five more years.” Kento hissed. In that moment, he realized he was never going to have you; when he asked you if you would be his girlfriend, you said you weren't open for a relationship until you passed the Bar and now you just broke the new that he'd have to wait five more years, and even then, he would have to face the ethical concerns and troubles of dating a Judge as he was going to be a Prosecutor. For you, perhaps he wouldn't mind, but he had the suspicion that you would rather not.

“Yeah, no shit.” Hiromi mumbled, his widened eyes stared at the red bottoms of your black shoes as his index finger kept tapping against his empty bottle. He, on the other hand, hoped that despite the obvious choice of your classes, you would change your mind and become a Public Defender like he was going to be. Your sense of just mixed in with the right amount of kindness was what drew him to you. On his lonely nights, he pictured himself opening his own law firm with you, how he would give you the best office with the best view. Where together, you could save the helpless. And now, he just learned that you were going to be the one who would often take one's hope away with your decisions.

“Uhh… Thanks for the support, I guess?” you said, your sarcastic tone snapped both men back to the present where you were staring at them with raised eyebrows as your arms were tightly intertwined ahead of your bosom. “How lucky I am to have such great friends who always motivate me for more in life.”

“It's not that,” Kento clicked his tongue. His honey colored eyes looked Hiromi up and down, the fingers of his free hand fidgeting beside him like they always did before he said something vulnerable. You realized he was thinking that Hiromi was completely out of it. “I'm gonna miss you, is all.”

“Jesus… You said it yourself: we're going to be in court aaaall the time. We're probably going to see each other enough.” you shook your head as you reached out for Kento's hand and began to play with his fingers; he was always well kept, and the softness of his enormous hands and pedicured nails were something you always wished you could feel on your skin. The thud of his beer being placed on the desk next to you, his wide chest being mere inches away from your face and the way his legs were in one line with your knees in between your legs suddenly created a wave of heat in the courtroom.

“But not like this,” Kento whispered, the coldness of his drink remained on his palm and now it was pressed against your cheek. A golden strand of his hair fell ahead as he slowly leaned in, his alcohol drenched breath tickled your skin before he pressed his lips against yours. The softness of his kiss reminded you of a pillow; ever so gentle and weightless, until soft pecks turned into his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He let go of your cheek to cup the flesh of each of your thighs to pull you closer and open your legs wider. 

The view of the vibrant red of your lacy underwear against Kento's black suit pants jolted Hiromi back to reality. His heart sank as his soon to be mortal enemy devoured the woman he ached for for years, and yet, he could not bring himself to stop staring. He wanted his feet to take him out of that place, but they brought him closer to you instead. The smacking of your lips, your sighs, your hums all echoed in his ears as he stood right next to Kento. 

Whereas Hiromi was in pain, Kento was on cloud 9. All he wanted was you, your touch and your skin, your warmth that was seeping in between your groins and pampered his cock into rock hardness. So when his kisses found the sensitive crook of your neck, he didn’t mind that your lonely lips found Hiromi's. In a strange way, your hand pulling the black haired man into your shared, desire filled air made his cock twitch in anticipation and the first drop of his precum began to roll out.

Hiromi's kisses were more hungry and desperate, his tongue massaged yours with the aftertaste of a punishment. His teeth sank into your bottom lip as one of his hands slapped your ass before kneading the abused flesh some more while his other hand began to fondle your breast.

The rustle of the janitor's key from outside the courtroom door made the two men nearly jump away from you. Hiromi held your hand to help you off the table while Kento fixed your skirt just in time before the old man opened the door, and found all three of you in a messy state. Kento covered his mouth with his hand, his fingers slightly pinching his cupid's bow, as if he was boiling with wrath that he got caught in such a situation - but underneath his cover, you could see that your lipstick was all over his face. Which made you realize that it meant your own face was also a mess.

“What are you doing here? The ceremony has long been over.” the janitor asked, his eyes studying the three of you with suspicion.

“Just saying goodbye, y'know…to the place.” Hiromi said, giving half a smile and half a laugh.

“Yeah, well, now I have to clean this place again. So leave.” 

The walk of shame to the parking lot of the school was silent. Each of you had their eyes fixed on the tip of your own shoes until Hiromi pulled out a cloth napkin and handed it to you, motioning that you should clean up around your mouth a little. Your skin was still red from all the rubbing when it was Kento's turn to get rid of your makeup, meanwhile Hiromi decided to light a cigarette.

“That's a nasty habit that you got there.” Kento said as he took the cigarette out of the other man's hand and replaced it with the stained napkin. His free fingers wriggled from the adrenaline while his lips wrapped around the butt of the cig and he took a deep inhale, and held the smoke down.

“You know this isn't a blunt, right? Like you don't have to hold it in.” Hiromi laughed, his hands motioning the blond man to exhale already and to give the cigarette back, but before he could have it, you snatched it from the meeting of their fingers. Kento watched you from the corner of his amber eyes as he blew the smoke in the opposite direction of where you stood.

To their greatest surprise, despite your shaky hand and trembling body, you were smiling. “This was fun.” you said, finally.

“My parents aren't home tonight if you…both wanna come over.” Kento said, hiding his fists in the depth of his pockets. The late afternoon sunlight made his eyes look like two sunsets of their own, his messy blond strands gently danced along with the wind and his arms looked enormous in the posture he stood next to you - but all you could look at was the wet stain on the left side of his lap.

“Maybe another time,” you slowly exhaled the smoke before handing the almost fully finished cig to Hiromi, your fingers caressing the side of his hand as he took it from you. Suddenly, your lips crashed against the dark haired man’s while your fingers remained intertwined as Kento was nervously looking around if anybody else was witnessing the scenario - as if he knew, you were going to kiss him, too. A smile tugged at both your lips and his when you made your way to him; he devoured you like he wanted to memorize the very taste of you, his palms pressed against your cheeks to hold you as long as possible. “Be good, okay?” you said to both as you pulled away from Kento, and began to make your way to your car. Only when they were far away from you, you realized that your heart was raging against your ribcage like a bird begging to be freed. You wanted both men. You loved them, in fact, but Law was your life and you were not ready to throw your career away on the very day it just began.

“I'm going to destroy you, Nanami.” Hiromi eyed the blond man with darkness in his gaze. “In court.”

“Oh? Is that so? I think you're going to be more broke than ever.” 

“Money isn't everything. It's about the people.” 

“But money is everything,” Kento inched closer to Hiromi. The magnetic haze of your existence no longer pulled them together. Their tones were condescending, bile swelled at each of their words. “You won first place here, yeah, but this is a school. In real life, you won't have the manpower or the resources to win your cases.”

“Justice will prevail.” 

“Do you even hear yourself? How pathetic you sound? I swear, I don't understand what she sees in you.” 

“That's none of your business, Nanami. See you in court soon.” An all consuming rage began to bloom in Hiromi, his fists were tight and it took all in him to not hit the man standing ahead of him. Were it not for you, he wouldn't have walked away. But perhaps if it weren't for you, Nanami wouldn't have this type of power over him; it was you who introduced them to one another, the two very best men of the class. What was your reason to do such a thing? He wondered.

[xmorguekittyx]

Chapter 2 : 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙩𝙝

master list

Limited vacancy, who the hell was at this shit hole this late at night and in this severe of weather? Surly, most had been up to date on the incoming storms any Raccoon City resident had a stockpile of supplies, food, flashlights and water in case of a storm like the one of 2003. The entire town had next to no power, shops were throwing out food left and right. The lucky few who had the supplies helped those less fortunate, now you'd be lucky to get a pat on the back. Raccoon City had fallen far in the number of years separating the infamous year and today.

That was what her father stood for, helping the good people of Raccoon City, punishing the bad and finding a way to convince those stuck in the in-between. His ethics were admirable, truly. That's what made her want to work somewhere work the justice system, but her empathetic heart had her leaning more towards helping those who can't help themselves. The deceased, those whose time has come too soon, or those who had been waiting for their time to pass, loved ones finding their final moments together, something not to fear. What she does is well disliked as a career option, but she chose it to make her father proud. Her father was all she had, all she ever needed, until his unfortunate passing. He was on a call with Leon that night, a robbery gone wrong and shots had been fired. Her heart tightened as she thought back to that night, the pattering rain kissing her skin as her lips curled downwards into a frown. Her eyes set in a glare as she shoved the door open, her elbow meeting the wood of the motel office door. She felt the humidity leave the air conditioned air as she relaxed her shoulders, letting the weight drop off like a coat to the floor. Her joints feeling that for once they could stretch and be at ease.

Her eyes closed as she sucked in a deep breath of the chill air, "Some night out there, isn't it?", a voice bellowed from behind her, causing her eyes to snap open and every been of tenseness crawl back up her shoulders. Part of her wished Leon had risked the drive out here, she wasn't use to having to watch herself. Leon protected her, he had her back since day one. That day that his nervous eyes met hers, her father's voice calling to them from behind as she couldn't help but laugh at his stutter. Twenty one years old and still nervous to talk to anyone, but then again, she was seventeen and in the same boat. "Yeah, seems a lot of people got caught in it, tonight.", she let out a small breath as she approached the oak front desk. The words "Motel 8" engraved into the wood.

"You'd think more people would've stayed home. They're calling for more in the night, but who knows.", the older, heavier man shrugged, his body turning away from her as she took note of the sweat stains on his shirt despite the air conditioner. "You're soaked, car break down?", he seemed to be making small talk, but the way his eyes checked over his shoulder at her every few seconds had her hair standing on end. "Yeah, but I got someone coming.", her fingernails tapped the desk top, her other hand propping up to hold her chin. "A single?", his voice called over his shoulder as he pulled down a key. "Don't see anyone else with you. Unless you're using the room for...", he trialed off as he smirked at her turning around and leaning on the desk closer to her. His breath hitting her face with a putrid smell, her body reacting quickly to flinch back and swipe the key. "Yeah, how much?", she turned her face as her nose scrunched up. Her body trying to force the stench from her area as she waved her hand. His smirk told her she wasn't the only one to reach this way to his proximity. "400.", he raised a brow as her jaw dropped. "400 dollars for a single bed room for one night?!", her reaction was valid, she felt. "The hotels in the city have rooms for no less than 280 for a double bed.", she scoffed, "This is a rip off!", she growled. "Unless you think you can make it there on foot, toots. It'll be 400 dollars, I take cash, card or... acts of service.", he grinned once more as his eyes flickered down to her chest. "Oh, you pervert!", she shrieked, her arm croaking up to over her chest, that had been slightly exposed from how soaked her clothes were, sticking to her frame and her other hand reaching for her wallet, plucking the card from her slot and tossing it on the counter. The man laughed before running her card, his amusement sent her seething more as she snatched her card and receipt back.

 

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

"Leon!", the man had just answered the phone before his ear drums nearly burst. "I assume you made it.", he groaned, she could hear the exhaustion in his words. Guilt started to build in her gut. "Were you sleeping?", her tone was much more soft and calm as she eased back into the bed, the sheets engulfing her legs, bare, as she had to remove her clothing to let them dry by the air vent. The warmth sucked all the air in her lungs, replacing it with a semi-safe feeling. She remembered how people used hangers to block the door, which is what she did. "Yeah, but i didn't mean to fall 'sleep.", his voice hummed, it was like her very own lullaby. Her heart thumped as she felt the lingering regret for calling him so late. "I'm sorry. I just... this place gives me the creeps.", her fingers picked at the lace on the leg of her panties. "Lot's of weirdo's stop there, Kitty. I get a few calls, but you remember what I said about the door, right?", her protector. Her eyes scanned until they met the entanglement of hangers locking through door handle in place. "Yep. Already done.", she sighed, taking a deep breath from her nose. "Good, good.", a silence followed, she knew Leon suffered from night terrors from the years of police work he had done. Some cases he would call her in the middle of the night, thinking one of the suspects was at his door trying to kill him for arresting him. Some of the murder victims coming to life in his visions, dismembered bodies, missing arms or a leg chasing him or haunting his dreams. She felt sick to think that this was also what her father suffered in silence, Leon at least reached out to her.

Nights of facetime calls that lasted hours as she watched his sleeping face, his brows furrow and his teeth grit once one started. His body sitting up with a scream, his hands curled into his chest as sweat poured from every pore on his body. His breath panting as he struggled for a breath and her unheard words as she tried to calm him from the other side of the screen. His shaking and flailing when he tried to fight off what wasn't there. But it was, to him, it was there, a threat that he knew could hurt him, his mind manifesting his fears. Leon was a very traumatized man, his attitude had shifted sometime during the years they've known each other. Nothing either of them could do, perhaps hers had too, but she never noticed, only tunnel visioned onto his suffering. "Want me to let you go?", her voice sounded like it was muffled, she didn't want to stir him too much if he was close to sleep once more.

"No, no. You're okay, i'm worried about you.", always the worry wort, making sure everyone else was cared for. That's what got him here. That's what turned the bright eyed and eager rookie into a seasoned police officer who had seen just about anything. "I'll be okay.", the sound of the bed squealing could be heard in the receiver on his end, hearing her get up from the bed. "What you doing?", he asked with that sleep thick voice. "I'm gonna grab a water.", she didn't mind his questions or want to be protective. He never crossed that line of being too nosey, though sometimes she wished he did. It was like her heart eyes had been overlooked for years, her desire for the man going unnoticed. "Shit- fridge is warm.", she sighed, the door of the mini fridge slamming. "My fucking luck-", she groaned, before she laid back on the bed, plopping back. "They've got an ice machine, before you pout too hard, princess.", he snickered as she scowled. She figured she could just inform him of the creep down the hall tomorrow. Leon had said he was here before, maybe he already knew the front desk was a pervert. "Fine.", her legs ached from the walk, already having given what energy they had to the endeavor to get here.

The hall lit up with lightening, the fogged up windows muting the brightness. "He put me in 17, how far down is the icebox?", she asked softly, hoping not to wake up anyone who might be sleeping though the storm. "It's between room 26 and 27, so not too far.", he whispered back, despite not having to. Her pants were sticking to her only slightly now, she had more sense than to not change before coming out here, god forbid that fucker catch her in her underwear, she didn't want to give him something to get off to. "Ah! Found it.", she whispered, pulling her arm down in a 'hell yeah' motion. "Good, now the princess can have the finest of cold waters.", he laughed, causing her to snort in amusement. "Shut up, room temperature water drinker. It's disgusting.", she shamed his preference. "Hey! It's healthier.", he corrected, his voice slightly muttered in annoyance. "Yeah, old man has to take care of himself now.", she teased, scooping some of the ice into the metal bowl that was in her room.

As she scooped the thunder clashed loudly, followed by a lightening strike that sounded like it landed right on her. Causing her to shriek and drop the bowl. "You alright?!", his voice came from the speaker in urgency. "Fuck, yeah.", she sighed as she looked at all her spilt ice. "There goes my ice.", she growled, pushing the bowl with the toe of her shoe. "I think i'm just going to try and go back to my room and sleep. Hopefully this is all over by the morning.", she gave in, turning on her heel before she caught the outline of a man down the hall, causing her to halt. "What...", her voice trailed off as she stood watching, the figure of the man watching her, his eyes wide and white, all she could make out was his eyes and build. He was skinny, but tall. "Leon?", she whispered, her throat tense causing the words to sound almost like a wheeze. "Kitty?", Leon called back, his voice also tense, sensing something was wrong. "I...", she started before the man turned on his heel and darted into a room. "Oh my god-", she breathed, the words airy. "Some creep was standing at the end of the hall acting like a creeper.", she explained as her heart rate tried to ease itself back into a normal pace. "I can't wait to be home.", she didn't waste time getting back to her room, passing room 25, 23, 21, then 19- before she stopped once more. The door was open, from her peripheral, she could make out legs, laying straight out on the bed, "Huh?", her nose curled up as she tilted her head, "Jesus-", her eyes had caught just the small sight of blood dripping from the mattress, staining the white, red. "I think you may want to come by tonight, Leon.", her voice was grave, she was use to being around bodies day in and day out. But here? Out of nowhere, laid the body of a blonde girl, her head tilted towards the closet as Kitty stepped in further. Her jaw slightly left open and her body covered by just the sheet. Her hair was tangled as if someone had gripped it. Her legs and wrists bruised a dark purple. Her shoulder marred with a bite mark, the skin punctured as blood pooled into the divots. The bed was messy, her clothes nearly folded by the bed on the floor, a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. She felt tears come to her eyes, just another soul gone too soon by hands of another.

Kitty stepped closer, Leon's muffled voice going unheard as she leaned over the girl, "I'm so sorry, angel...", murder was something that Kitty strived to treat differently. "I'm so sorry.", she placed her hand on her hair, stroking the dead woman, before closing her eyes, slowly and softly. Her skin was cold, no warmth left within her.

part 1

[rottenpumpkin13]

A school AU in which SOLDIERS and Turks+ Rufus are teachers. What subject are they teaching? What do the students think about them? What kind of teachers are they? Is there any teacher drama?

Sephiroth: Science teacher who insists on having a very ethical approach to teaching. He's wonderfully patient and lenient with his students, especially when the subjects they're covering are a source of discomfort. His class is easy to pass but only because he makes it so fun to learn. He loves taking his students on field trips.

Genesis: He teaches literature and is known for his two teaching styles—either intense, no nonsense seriousness because his class is notoriously a bitch to pass and "he won't have anyone making a mockery of Loveless." OR he's perched atop his desk with overpriced coffee and gossiping with his students.

Tseng: Math teacher, but he has a patient and pragmatic approach to teaching that makes it easy to learn from him. He's strict but he also doesn't care if you take his class seriously or not. But if you fall asleep in his class, you will wake up with an air horn blasting in your ear.

Angeal: The school guidance counselor, admired by all for his warm demeanor. Formerly the P.E. teacher but he transitioned to counseling as he found himself increasingly involved in guiding his students. His office cozy and the go-to safe space when students need a break from everything.

Zack: P.E. teacher. The man never runs out of steam. Rumors say he's not even human, he's a machine that runs on energy drinks. He's super energetic and enthusiastic about his class and goes out of his way to make them fun. He tries to get everyone involved, but doesn't push students when they don't want to participate.

Cloud: Social studies teacher who's very passionate about his subject. His only fault is that his colleagues have this ongoing joke where they interrupt his class to "borrow" office supplies every day. He once threw a whiteboard eraser at Professor Crescent's head because he interrupted him in the middle of a lesson.

Reno: Is in charge of the school's greenhouse and may or may not be growing weed in there. He's also the wise adult students go to for advice (when they don't want to give Mr. Hewley a heart attack).

Rufus: The Vice Principal. Yes, he has beef with Professor Crescent. Yes, there have been numerous pranks mysteriously set up in his office that could only have been done by someone who knows their chemicals.

Rude: Spanish teacher who insists everyone speak nothing but spanish in his class.

• ASGZC congregate in Angeal's office for lunch every day. They take turns each bringing in a homemade snack to share.

• Rumor has it Professor Rhapsodos and Professor Crescent were once caught making out in a janitor's closet.

[mixelation]

i wrote more reborn au. it is the situation described previously when tori has a non-team 4 mission go awry

i might change the timeline a little, but for now: tori is 16, and she has an official position in R&D so she takes fewer out of village missions. i might change it later but she gives her rank as tokubetsu jounin, because my interpretation of this rank is that you have some sort of high-value jounin-level skill (like fuinjutsu) but your OVERALL skills aren't really jounin level. so she got promoted hella fast after making chunin, but she gets stuck at this rank a while whereas itachi and deidara get to full jounin like immediately lmao. also she and itachi have been fake-dating a few months, but that's not relevant to the following

uuh also this has some stuff that i feel like doesn't punch as hard as it should without context to foreshadow it, so apologizes if some details seem to come out of nowhere???

--

The mission started off uncomfortable and it didn’t get much better. 

The premise was this: a research team had tracked some rare scrolls all the way into the boonies of a tiny jungle territory between Fire Country and Water Country, which had historically been traded back and forth between both countries but was currently maintaining its status as an independent state after the fallout of the Third Shinobi War. It had no native ninja clans, but enough powers had occupied it that both Kiri and Konoha occasionally sent in probes to figure out if there were any leftover ninja-related valuables. 

The idea was that a ninja village had the rights to ninja materials, even if they’d both technically agreed not to interfere with the tiny nation. Tori understood everyone in her life just accepted this as a morally neutral fact of the world and elected not to analyze it further for her own sanity. It wasn’t like she wasn’t ready and willing to forego her own ethical framework when it was convenient. 

So the research team had followed some local leads to unearth an ancient and abandoned shinobi stronghold of unknown origin, but had been blocked from accessing it because the fuuinjutsu protecting it was so old no one on the team could figure out how to break it. This was how Tori was chosen for the back-up team Minato was sending in: if you wanted someone to disentangle an unknown and strange set of seals quickly and without damaging the surrounding structure, Tori was your girl. There simply wasn’t anyone else as good except Kushina herself, and Kushina had way more in-village responsibilities.  

The risk of spending a long time at this location was that Kiri would inevitably notice and send their own team in, and then even if they avoided an outright conflict, Konoha risked Kiri running off with the scrolls or whatever other treasures happened to be in the stronghold, if any. This was how the rest of the Tori’s team was picked: combat ninja for back-up. 

“Oh, this is the most fun part about being a fuinjutsu specialist, you know,” Kushina had told her, when she’d gone over to pick up fuinjutsu supplies from her office. “You get sent on all sorts of weird missions to all sorts of places, and work with all sorts of people!”

Kushina was… maybe more social and likable than Tori. Kushina could make friends with a rock. Tori, in contrast, somehow started a feud with half the people she met. 

It started with some weird comments. Tori pulled a bottle of insect repellant out of a storage seal during one of their breaks on the first day, and her teammate made a snide remark about Tori living a life of luxury. 

“...do you want some?” Tori offered. 

She was literally just using a store-bought spray in a standard-design storage scroll. Kushina had told her off more than once for over-relying on storage scrolls which could be easily stolen or destroyed or lost, but she’d seen other shinobi do this. She’d seen their captain do this, earlier. This was normal behavior. 

The weird comments continued from the same teammate, who was a rank-and-file jounin with no additional titles. Mostly they were jabs at her main designation being R&D: surprise she could clean fish, condescendingly assuring her she wouldn’t have to fight and risk chipping a nail. The comments got an occasional snicker from other ninja, but they weren’t overtly hostile and definitely not as mean as whatever the fuck Itachi might say just in friendly conversation. She gritted her teeth and beared it. 

The guy was only like nineteen or twenty. Tori wasn’t sure what his problem with her was, since he was pretty young for a jounin and couldn’t be so untalented that it would make sense for him to have a chip on his shoulder, but also he was young enough that maybe he just hadn’t matured very much yet. Or maybe it was just that she was even younger and already a tokubetsu jounin and– gasp!– a woman. People generally highly praised Deidara and Itachi for making jounin so young, but their talents were generally more obvious, and also they were men. Shinobi were less sexist than the surrounding civilian attitudes toward women, but the misogyny still crept into their culture. Sometimes some men just got upset when women were smarter or stronger or higher ranked than them. Even Kushina occasionally got pushback. 

(Not that no one ever acted jealous or insane to Itachi or Deidara– it was just that they got it less often, and people rarely acted like that twice, because both boys were nightmare people.)

So she ignored her teammate and didn’t think much of it. Sometimes people were just assholes. In Oto or in Akatsuki, this might have led to him doing something unspeakably horrible to her, but this was Konoha. Konoha ninja could be petty and mean and jaded, but they didn’t do that. 

Tori hadn’t gotten to go into the jungles of this world often, and her mood did brighten even as the weather got hotter and more humid and they had to slow down as the foliage got denser. She liked seeing the shift in trees from Hashirama trees to broad-leafed jungle trees, seeing strangler figs and hearing tree frogs and finding the prints of a large cat. She even found delight in the presence of native giant leeches they also imported to their Forest of Death.

“The anticoagulants they excrete actually have a lot of medical applications,” she said cheerfully, poking one gently with a stick. They could also kill you if you let one attach for too long. 

“Uh, okay,” said their captain. “Keep on task.”

“When you let a researcher out of the lab,” another teammate joked to the one who kept ragging on her. Tori rolled her eyes. 

It took almost an entire week to get to the stronghold. During this time, the teammate that was ragging on her got both the other ninja with them to also start on the same sort of stupid jokes. Tori pulled a branch off a squat little tree and offered it to the teammate who’d started it all. 

“Here, it’s an insect repellent,” she said, smiling as sweetly as she could. “Since you forgot to bring yours.”

For some reason, this just made the teammate meaner. By the time they researched the stronghold, she was getting accusations that she was only here due to favoritism from the fucking Hokage. 

“On task,” the captain sighed, having also laughed at a couple of the jokes. 

Whatever, Tori thought. 

The lead of the research team, at least, didn’t even blink when he saw her. He was technically part of R&D. She had a reputation there. 

The stronghold was a small, stone building overgrown with strangler figs. The research team had already removed the foliage from the entrance and revealed the seal protecting it, which probably saved at least half a day’s work. Still, the fuinjutsu on it was a mess, and it took Tori a couple hours to disentangle what was even going on. 

The research leader bounced his knee in anticipation the entire time. Apparently they’d found evidence the night before of other shinobi in the area, and they were afraid Kiri could show up at any moment. 

“Can’t you do that faster?” Tori’s captain asked as she made notes on her own scroll. 

“Not unless you want me to risk blowing it up,” Tori replied. 

“Well, try harder,” he said.

She wondered, vaguely, if he would have this attitude towards her if he hadn’t spent a whole week listening to someone make demeaning comments about her. Maybe she should have tried to nip that in the bud sooner? Usually she’d prefer an opponent underestimating her, but these were people she needed to trust her skills… she’d promised herself to stop thinking of everyone she met as an enemy until proven otherwise. 

Well, whatever. The nice thing about her boss being a fuinjutsu master was that if this captain tried to report on her being too slow, Minato would put him straight immediately. 

She got the seal off in record time. Instead of opening into the little building, the door led to a staircase that went straight down into the earth. Tori held back a comment about Oto also being arranged like this. She didn’t need to remind her asshole teammate that she was a foreigner on top of whatever he didn’t like about her. 

“Great,” the research lead sighed. 

The next several days were spent exploring the tunnels that turned out to be underneath the building. They were carved out by an underground river, which still flowed through the main passages. The remains of wooden walkways over it were still apparent, but the structure had largely rotted away and they were forced to walk on the walls or the river itself. There were more fuinjutsu-covered doors leading to narrow rooms and more fucking stairways down, in a confusing labyrinth of passages that mostly held nothing of value. 

The combat team was roped into searching the tunnels in order to cover more area quickly, since there was the ongoing anxiety that Kiri could show up any minute. They all seemed bored by the slow progress of Tori opening up new passageways only for no one to find anything but rotting wood furniture and, once, some old and useless cookware. Tori was having fun, at least. Whoever had set up the security seals must have been high when they did it. 

Then everything went to shit all at once. 

Tori was taking her lunch break, squatting in the corner of an empty room and eating a protein bar, when her asshole teammate showed up to report he’d found another fuinjutsu-covered door. Many of the rooms had puddles from the river leaking through cracks, and the jounin rushed in so quickly he didn’t even bother water-walking over them. 

The door he’d found was different from the rest, with an ornately carved stone door frame. It also wasn’t wood like the rest had been, held together against time by fuinjutsu. This door was a solid block of rock, a giant disc on the side of the door frame. 

“I bet Hokage-sama will give us a bonus if we’re the ones who find the scrolls,” he said, his excitement obvious as Tori poked at the door. “They do that for object recovery, right?”

“I think that’s only if you find something that wasn’t a part of the mission parameters,” Tori replied, taking a step back to squint at the full seal. There wasn’t a universal pattern to them, but she was getting pretty quick about identifying and then dismantling the relevant parts. 

“Pft, what do you know,” her teammate replied, kicking at a puddle. 

“No offense,” Tori started, pulling out her brush and a jar of ink, “but what is your problem with me?”

Her teammate didn’t answer, watching her paint very carefully over the seal. The stone wheel that made up the door groaned and slowly rolled aside. 

The room inside was definitely different from the rest. The back wall was nothing but running water, held in place by more fuinjutsu that formed a gently glowing web of chakra over it. There was also actual decoration on the exposed stone walls, carved and then painted in. In the center of the room was a stone pedestal with an obvious scroll box. 

Tori’s teammate was obnoxious, but he was still a jounin and not an idiot. He waited for Tori to flick chakra-infused ink into the room and then perform a jutsu to check for traps. 

The room itself was safe. The problem was that the pedestal was obviously boobytrapped. 

“Can you undo it?” her teammate asked, peering at the box. It matched the description the research team had. 

It was hard to reveal the seals on the pedestal and take a look. They were, in fact, more insane than what was on all the doors. Unlike the doors, these were meant to be somewhat permanent, not meant for anyone but the sealmaster who made them to take off. 

“It’s… going to take some time,” Tori said cautiously. “But, shit, this array itself is probably valuable.”

She pointed to how it scattered down the pedestal to the river wall and then up and across the ceiling in a nonstandard shape. If it were disrupted, the seal holding the water back would break, immediately flooding the room. At the same time, the bit on the ceiling would collapse… something. Either the ceiling itself or wall with the exit. 

There was a mechanism also holding the box in place and locked shut, so no random person would be able to move it or open it and then accidentally set off the trap. Breaking that part of the seal wouldn’t be any more difficult than the doors, but Tori would need some time to figure out how to disentangle this mechanism from the deathtrap so they didn’t set it off and could remove the scrolls safely. 

“Alright,” the jounin said at length. “But you have to make it clear I’m the one who found it.”

Tori really, really didn’t think this mattered, but before they could decide what exactly to do, two strangers walked into the room. They were both wearing Kiri headbands. 

“Are you kidding me?” the jounin said, stepping between Tori and the Kiri-nin and drawing a kunai. 

She hadn’t noticed it over the rush of the river in front of them, but now that Tori was concentrating, she could hear the shouts of a fight outside. 

“Oh nice, you found it for us,” one of the Kiri said. Both had swords drawn. Tori drew her own kunai and shifted into a fight-ready stance. 

“Surely there’s a diplomatic solution to this,” she tried. 

“Oops, too late,” the other Kiri-nin answered, flashing teeth at her. 

Tori’s jounin teammate took a step back and whispered out of the corner of his mouth: “I’ll engage them. Get the box off.”

“But–” Tori started.

Behind his back, he signed that they’d flash step out. Tori nodded slowly. It was risky, and she wasn’t sure she could flash step quickly enough to not get caught in the trap, but a really good jounin could. 

This was the best part of Konoha, she thought. Even assholes had your back. 

One of the Kiri-nin chucked a handful of kunai at them, and Tori fully turned to back to face the seal on the pedestal. She heard the clink of her teammate batting the blades out of the air with his sword. Yes, even this guy had her back, no questions asked. 

She barely watched the fight as she concentrated on her own work. Her teammate was a good fighter, and he managed to counter both ninja while also keeping any attacks from hitting her. It only took a few minutes for him to kill one of the Kiri-nin, after which the second backed off and tried more mid-range attacks. 

“Got it,” Tori finally announced. Her teammate pounced on the Kiri-nin, plunging the sword into her. 

“Do it,” he told Tori, turning to her with the wild eyes of man high on his own bloodlust. 

“As soon as I release it, the seal–” Tori started to warn.

The Kiri-nin he’d left crumpled in the corner groaned and rolled onto her feet unsteadily, still alive. 

“It’s okay, I got you,” her teammate said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “The faster we move, the faster we can back-up our teammates.”

“Right,” Tori agreed, poising her paintbrush. “On the count of three.”

What happened next was such a slimy move that it completely blindsided Tori, even if it shouldn’t have. Training herself to no longer assume that people were just going to screw her over for no reason had been a bad idea, it turned out. 

She called one as she made the last of her brush strokes. Her mouth started on the syllable, and the jounin adjusted his grip on her so his hand was around the supply pack at the small of her back. He leaned over and put his hand over the box, his grip adjusted wide enough to wrap the last joints of his fingers over the top. This would be a weird as fuck hold for a joint flash step, but Tori didn’t give it a second thought. He just moved to put his hand on the box. That was their mission. 

And then he flash stepped through the rubble suddenly raining down on them, taking the box and Tori’s pack with him, leaving Tori behind to be knocked over by the sudden wave of water. 

The first few moments of the room flooding were chaos. Part of the ceiling and the entire wall collapsed, and debris hit her shoulder and legs as the water battered her around. 

It calmed eventually, with the water only waist deep. Tori spat out water and fumbled for one of the glow sticks in her weapons pack. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the wounded Kiri-nin asked when Tori lit up the room. “Holy shit, did he leave you on purpose?”

Tori bit her lip. Yes, he totally had. What the fuck. Konoha ninja weren’t supposed to be like this. 

When Tori didn’t respond, the Kiri-nin wrote her off and started yelling at the collapsed wall for help. There was no evidence anyone heard her at all. 

The good news was that the river wasn’t rushing in. Its source must have also partially collapsed, leaving the river at a small trickle. 

“The water had a way out,” Tori announced, wading toward the back wall. “Maybe we can…”

She tried diving. When she found nothing, the Kiri-nin also tried. The exit the water had been taking before was completely sealed off. 

“Oooh, we’re fucked,” the Kiri-nin sighed. “What the fuck was your friend’s plan?”

“I don’t…” Tori started. He should have taken her with him. It was well within his abilities. He’d told her. 

He’d also taken her travel pack with all her fuinjutsu supplies. She still had some kunai and shuriken and a flare and a couple glow sticks in her weapons pack, but those would hardly help. She had a few scrolls still on her, but none of those were going to get her out. 

The water was getting higher. Tori found she was shaking. Konoha ninja weren’t supposed to do this. 

Old Tori had been physically weaker, but she hadn’t been this gullible, this stupid. She hadn’t been able to afford it. 

“I-I can stop the water,” Tori told the Kiri-nin, embarrassed that her voice sounded like she was on the brink of tears. 

The Kiri-nin eyed her with something that was either pity or disgust or both. 

“Is this your first life or death mission, little girl?” she asked. 

Tori let out a hysterical laugh. No, actually, she should have anticipated this happening from the first weird comment. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m sixteen,” Tori said. “They’ve sent me into worse.”

She said this more to remind herself. She’d survived worse. She’d just been an idiot, thinking she’d finally been in a position to trust people. 

The Kiri-nin snorted. 

“Whatever, Konoha. Don’t stop the water yet. That might be the only way out.”

The Kiri-nin performed a series of water jutsu, meant to scope out the walls and floor and ceiling and find any gaps they could take advantage of, either to drain the water or send a message for help or get out. It would make sense if the person who set up the trap also left a way to get out, rather, let themselves back in to retrieve their scrolls. 

Tori wondered if the Kiri-nin would actually help her if she identified a way out, or if she’d also spitefully leave her for dead. How sad would it be, if she was betrayed by her own comrade and saved by a random Kiri-nin?

Tori didn’t get to find out the answer to the question, because the Kiri-nin didn’t find anything. If there was a way back in, it wasn’t accessible from the inside. The Kiri-nin leaned back against a wall, panting with exertion and holding her side where Tori’s teammate had stabbed her. 

“I’m a medic,” Tori offered. Her medical supplies were off with her treasonous teammate, but she could still do some chakra-based stuff.

“Shut up,” the Kiri-nin groaned. “Okay, I’m going to dive again and try to get out through the river’s entrance.”

“You sure you don’t want me to at least stop the bleeding–”

“Shut up.”

The Kiri-nin dived. When she didn’t come back for a very long time, Tori waded over to the river’s entrance and attempted diving herself. 

There wasn’t an opening big enough to fit her body through. Instead, she found the Kiri-nin’s body with her arm wedged into a crevice that must have collapsed further when she stuck her arm in. Tori couldn’t dislodge it to try and drag the woman back to the surface. She was dead, anyway.

Tori pulled one of her remaining scrolls from her vest and set up a barrier to block the influx of water. It was now up to her chest. 

Then she pulled herself up to sit on top of the water and very quietly freaked out. 

It wasn’t being trapped in a sealed room with two dead Kiri-nin that freaked her out, exactly. It wasn’t even that she had no idea if any of her teammates outside were alive or aware she needed help. It wasn’t even necessarily that her teammate had seemingly turned on her for stupid reasons. 

It was that she had gone out of her way to assume an asshole was just an asshole, that Konoha ninja were the exception to the rule she’d learned through both her shitty lives, like an idiot. It stung, worse than she would have thought it would. 

Her barrier eventually ran out of chakra, and as she watched it flicker and die, a horrible thought struck Tori. 

No one was going to come help her, because her teammate was not going to report her as alive but trapped. He was going to report her as definitively dead, because there was no way he’d let her be seen alive to tell her side of the story. 

Maybe, once they got back to Konoha and formally reported her KIA, Minato would send someone for her body. They usually only did that for people with stealable bloodline limits, but Kushina would probably push for it. Or maybe, if the rest of the team was all killed by Kiri or otherwise too injured to go back themselves, Minato would eventually send someone to check up on them. Neither scenario was a timeline where Tori would still be alive if she stayed in here. 

In the best case scenario, her team beat off the Kiri-nin, and then someone came looking for her. The asshole teammate would protest, would insist she was dead in a collapsed and inaccessible room, but maybe someone would insist on retrieving her body. 

It seemed unlikely. She’d already been too charitable with her assessment of this team. None of them were coming for her. 

She had two more scrolls with barriers to hold back the water slowly seeping in. Neither of them had enough chakra to last more than a couple hours, but she could recharge them a few times with her own chakra, although without food, chakra would become a finite resource. She had maybe a day before she drowned using just these tools. 

She could make a seal, of course. Her teammate had taken her supplies, and the ink and brush she’d had out before we lost in the flood, but she still had a body full of blood and plenty of surfaces to draw on. It wouldn’t be easy or neat, since blood required different calculations and wet, uneven rocks would be hard to draw on, but she could do it. 

 Her first idea was to tap into one of her storage dimensions. She had some food squirreled away in one, and some fuinjutsu supplies in another. The one she’d stuck a bunch of spare camping supplies in probably even had a better light source. 

Okay, Tori decided, standing on the water, here I go. 

xXx

Two days passed, and no one came for her. With food and fuinjutsu supplies, she’d been able to wrap a double barrier around the main source of water, but it must have been slowly seeping in from somewhere else too because the water level was still slowly rising. She could no longer stand fully on the water surface, and she’d had no good way to sleep. 

She tried a controlled explosion on the wall she knew led to an open passage, but instead she’d just collapsed more of the room. There must not have been anything above her but more earth. 

The explosion had also shaken the Kiri-nin’s body loose, and Tori didn’t really have anywhere to put it, so she was just… floating. 

Tori’s new plan was to get a message to Konoha. Maybe a regular team wouldn’t get to her in time, but Minato could. She wasn’t sure he would, but… 

She struggled to cling to this hope, even though it turned out trust was a lie and Konoha-nin were the types to just fuck you over for no reason. 

Tori didn’t really have a good way to send a message herself. Between Itachi’s crows and Deidara’s animated clay, they’d always taken care of it when she’d been on a regular team. She’d never had a need to invent her own way. She stuck some messages into storage dimensions she knew Kushina also had the key to, but she wasn’t sure why Kushina would check them unless she knew Tori was in danger. 

Which she wouldn’t know, because Tori’s teammate was an asshole. 

She did know a couple time-space jutsu, but those were notoriously difficult, and she didn’t know any that wouldn’t require another person. She wasn’t even sure any solo ones existed, besides the Hiraishin, because usually you at least needed a receiver. 

Tori ran option after option through her brain. She didn’t know shit about summoning jutsu, which would be super useful in this situation if not just for the ability to reverse summon. Could she logic her way through how they must work and then reverse engineer it…?

No, she’d have better luck reverse engineering the Hiraishin. At least she knew some of the theory behind that one. 

Sitting on the water, the top of her head brushed the ceiling. Or maybe she should focus on making a full-wall seal to keep the water out. That she was at least positive she could do. But that would take so much time… 

Tori stuck her head between her knees and willed herself not to cry. She still felt so fucking stupid, and the lack of sleep and floating corpse weren’t helping. Of course she shouldn't have trusted the guy who was making fun of her the whole time. Of course, of course, stupid, stupid, stupid.

She mentally flipped through everything she knew about time-space jutsu, feeling hysterical. She’d tried the Hiraishin before, and nothing had even happened because only two people in the world had ever managed it. Even with entire villages trying to beat it during the war, no one had even come close. It would be deeply stupid and arrogant of her to push forward assuming she could accomplish what entire teams of more experienced shinobi had failed to do. 

She was developing a crick in her neck from being bent forward as she approached the ceiling, so she laid down on her back. All her clothes were already wet regardless. 

Except, she had spent a lot of time thinking deep thoughts about the Hiraishin, because, well, it didn’t make sense no one had been able to copy it. Minato had left seals all over the place. No one had even been able to figure out how to undo them without removing the entire object the seal was on; it was why Iwa had been so terrified of them sneaking even one in. 

The markers are only a guide for the actual jutsu, Minato had said when she’d asked, and then when she’d asked again and again, Only I can use them, because only I have my chakra. 

But why couldn’t someone else use his chakra? She just couldn’t shove this explanation into her understanding of how space-time jutsu worked. Most of them worked using another user as a receiver on the other end, or else by using multiple people to throw something to a receiving array, and none of them worried about chakra incompatibilities. Tori had been considering using a fucking tree as a receiver, if she’d had the foresight to set up a tree-powered seal to be her receiver. And why the fuck hadn’t she done that, if she’d thought about it so much? How had she never anticipated being trapped with no hope of back-up? Old Tori would have never. Stupid, stupid, stupid–

Actually, Tori thought, sitting up on her elbows. Hiraishin wasn’t receiver-less, was it? Minato just did both jutsu on one end but somehow the marker anchored the receiving jutsu, somehow slingshotting him through space. Or at least that was the only way Tori could conceptualize it possibly working. You could, in theory, use an already active seal as an unmanned receiver; it was just that you needed to be really, insanely good to make a seal that complex that could stay active for long periods of time. That was why Tori’s idea had used a tree’s chakra to power the receiving end. But if you just had, like, some sort of tiny, self-sustaining guide for your receiver jutsu….? That was probably why it had to be Minato’s own chakra. 

Tori had no idea how to simultaneously do two jutsu and also do them so lightning fast it was basically instantaneous from having the thought to teleporting, the way Minato did. But why couldn’t she include both in a seal, with one of his markers as the anchor? At the end of the day, Tori had taught herself to use fuinjutsu almost entirely with other people’s chakra. Her original concept she’d been working on (but never tested, like an idiot) had been based around a goddamn tree. She’d done extensive testing on how chakra from different sources varied and how to optimize jutsu to it. She could totally hijack one of Minato’s seals. 

She was worryingly close to the ceiling now, even flat on her back. She drew a copy of a Hiraishin marker and then got to work painting a combination send-and-receive transport seal around it. 

xXx

Tori found herself on a dark forest floor, gasping for breath. She had no idea where she was, but at least she was no longer under fucking water. Pine needles poked into her back as she collapsed, staring up into the canopy. The trees had spindly arms and the full moon peeked through. 

The forest was still and quiet. Tori was working very hard on not hyperventilating. 

I’m alive, she promised herself. I’m breathing. 

Her body was shaking from adrenaline. She’d gotten a working seal painted in time, even if she’d had a hell of a time activating it. She was fine. She was alive. 

She got about three seconds of time to lay there and breathe before Minato was suddenly on top of her, a rasengan waving in her face. Tori shrieked. 

“It’s me, it’s me!” she screeched. The rasengan, being made mostly of chakra, gave off its own weak light, and Minato’s face was dead-serious as he commanded that she give various identifying codes to confirm her identity. Tori’s brain was already scattered and panicked from barely escaping drowning, and her answers came out garbled. Finally she yammered, “Who else would be hijacking your seals?”

Minato was quiet for a few moments, and then he released the rasengan. Rather than reabsorb the chakra, he let it spiral out in a gust of wind that made Tori shiver. 

Minato stood. He was in his pajamas, and one knee was damp from where he’d been kneeling on her stomach. He offered her a hand. In the moonlight, his face looked weary. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, sounding exhausted. “Report.”

The phrasing of the command meant that even if he was in his pajamas, he was talking to her as Hokage right now. Tori did her best to straighten up and explain herself like she would for a mission or a lab experiment gone wrong, but her story quickly turned into an upset ramble. 

She didn’t know if her team was alive. She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. Her teammate had been an asshole to her and she’d ignored it but she shouldn’t have because that was her clue she shouldn’t have trusted him with shit– 

“How did you get here?” MInato cut her off. His voice was barely restrained emotion, stress and anger. Tori felt almost taken aback. She’d thought he’d care more than she nearly died. 

She felt stupid that she was this upset over a bunch of nobodies leaving her for dead, about being this incoherent over almost dying. Wasn’t she tougher than this? Why did Minato being mad at her make her want to cry?

She walked him through the logic of her escape efforts. If Minato had any personal thoughts on her initial attempts or her aside that the Kiri-nin’s body had just been hanging out, he didn’t show them. His eyebrows did raise higher and higher as she described her eventual solution to her predicament. 

“You just came up with that?” he asked. She couldn’t tell if he was dumbfounded or furious. 

Maybe this will be when they decide I’m too dangerous and kill me, Tori thought. She’d thought she’d been safe from this inevitability, but maybe not. 

“Well,” Tori replied slowly. The fact that no one could hijack his seals had been bugging her for years. He knew this, because his and Kushina’s own dismissive attitudes were why she’d been stuck on it. He knew this about her. She shouldn’t have to lie and back off. “I’ve been mulling it over, and I thrive under stress.”

Minato sighed loudly. He still seemed tense, but he wasn’t exactly angry, she didn’t think. 

“We need to destroy it, even if you think the passage is inaccessible,” Minato told her. “Tori, I cannot stress how dangerous it is to leave evidence–” He cut himself off, frowning. “Shit, I can access it.”

And then he was gone. Tori shifted awkwardly, peering around her. She definitely wasn’t anywhere near Konoha. The amount of pine meant she’d probably ended up way further north, although she didn’t have enough light to be identifying exact species to narrow it down much further than that. How the hell did Minato aim this thing?

Tori was soaked, and the forest was colder than a Fire Country night. She shivered and peeled off her outer layer, wringing it out. A few minutes later, Minato returned, now also wet. 

“Good news is, I destroyed it for you,” he told her. He still sounded stressed, but there was a hint of relief in there. “So that problem, at the very least, has been resolved.”

Minato was not mad at her for breaking his jutsu, per se, but everything about his body language was deeply tense. He banned her from ever drawing it up again without his direct supervision, or even mentioning the idea of it to anyone. Now that Tori wasn’t afraid of dying alone in a cave, it occurred to her that Minato had hundreds of his seals in Konoha. Tens of them were in his house alone. One was in the Kyuubi’s seal. If an enemy could do what Tori just did, they were all fucked. 

Tori was very certain no one else on the planet could do what she did in this very specific regard, including Minato himself. But perhaps a motivated person could copy her, or an informed person could follow her line of research to figure it out themselves. 

“Okay,” Minato finished his very long list of commands on things she was never even to think about doing again. He took a deep breath. “Now we can move on to the other problem. Your teammate did what?”

She walked him through the story again, and was relieved that she seemed too tired to cry. That asshole wasn’t worth her tears, although she still felt deeply stupid and almost embarrassed as she described what happened to Minato. She felt like a whiny kid recalling the passive aggressive comments, and then like a moron when she described trusting his plan. 

When she was done, Minato said very slowly, “I want you to understand that I believe you, Tori. However, as Hokage, I will have to do an investigation before making any decisions.”

Tori frowned. “So no one sent a message?”

Minato raised an eyebrow. “Tori, you beat any message they could get to me.”

That seemed wrong, as Tori had also had this whole upsetting detour where she’d nearly drowned in an underground room. 

“Okay,” Tori replied dully. “What do you want me to do?”

If he made her go back to her mission, she was going to throw a fit. Instead, he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“You successfully completed your assigned part of the mission,” he said. “And, as much as you scared me, I’m really glad you didn’t die. I think you should get some rest.”

He brought her to his home. Tori had not seen full light in days, and even the kitchen overhead light made her squint and blink rapidly when he switched it on. 

“I want to hear what they report before they know you made it back alive,” he told her in a hushed tone. “So lay low and hang out here a few days.”

Tori squinted at him. “That’s pretty mean,” she assessed. “I like it.”

She wasn’t sure how he would treat this situation if it happened to another shinobi. Certainly he wouldn’t let most people stay in his home; they didn’t exactly have a revolving door of house guests. It made her feel better, she thought as she showered off in the guest bathroom, to be reminded someone did value her as more than a tool or an obstacle. 

Even if he commented about the mission first, her brain reminded her traitorously. 

When she stepped out of the bathroom, a set of women’s pajamas had appeared neatly-folded on the guest bed. They were almost definitely Kushina’s, and given Kushina was significantly taller than her, fit comfortably loose. Tori stepped out of the guest bedroom to find Kushina angrily chopping vegetables in the kitchen. 

“It’s 2 AM,” Tori told her. “What are you doing?”

Kushina paused, sticking her bottom lip out at Tori. She was wearing a baggy shirt that came down to mid-thigh and her hair was braided back and wrapped for sleep. Tori barely had time to react before she was in a hug. 

“I’m working out my feelings in a productive way,” Kushina said, releasing her. “Besides, you need to eat.”

Tori did not want to admit she wanted a longer hug. Instead, she persuaded Kushina to let her eat cup ramen instead of the full course meal Kushina appeared to be preparing to make. Kushina did insist she felt better chopping things up and she was only saving herself time doing it later for dinner, so Tori sat at the table and listened to the rhythmic sound of Kushina taking out her anger on some carrots. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Kushina insisted more than once. Minato might have told her the basics to explain Tori’s presence, but surely Kushina didn’t know all the details of Tori’s mission. She was in no place to know if Tori had actually done anything wrong or not. Still, sometimes Kushina’s blind faith was reassuring. 

“Thanks for the PJs,” Tori told her before escaping to bed. 

She’d never stayed overnight in the Uzumaki-Namikaze house. She’d only ever seen the guest bedroom to dump her coat off before a party. But the bed was comfortable and had a thick comforter, and she found herself bone-tired. She fell asleep immediately.

[mayakern]

Hello, I bought skirts from you before you changed the fabric and after and I was upset at the fabric change. I have sensory issues, and the old fabric was nice and soft. The new fabric is very uncomfortable to me and I was wondering if it would be possible to order skirts with the old fabric in the future.

i’m sorry you don’t like the new fabric but it is not possible to get skirts from the old factory anymore unless we randomly have some old skirts laying around the office, which you’d have to email in about in order to find out.

we do not work with our old factory anymore. they had some quality and consistency issues that eventually escalated to the point where we had about a 60% defect rate with them (for reference, a normal defect rate is 1-5%). not only was this immensely wasteful and environmentally reprehensible, but continuing to work with them would have literally bankrupted us.

our new factory is much more consistent and uses better quality fabric and has higher quality sewing and they also have really wonderful certifications for their ethical textile production and labor practices, which limits the kinds of materials they can work with. they are certified up the entire supply chain, which is incredibly difficult to do because things like buttons and zippers and other fixings are often made with prison or sweatshop labor. similarly, a lot of affordable fabrics are made with harsh chemicals like formaldehydes or even lead, which are still present in the garments when you receive them. using a factory that is certified for ethical textile production means they do not do not use those harmful chemicals and that the garments are actually certified as safe, which limits our choices in materials but is ultimately for the better imo.

what i can say tho is that if you do not like the new poly skirts, you may absolutely love the viscose ones. they are buttery soft and super flowy. so if you’re interested in some super soft and comfortable solid color skirts, i’d recommend those.

[lesbianralzarek]

you know those airplane mechanics who are good at their jobs and keep them in top condition because they wanna fuck the plane so bad? thats me with ethical practices in medicine. yes i WILL sit with you running prior auths and adjudicating insurance claims for an hour until i can get that drug below 1k for you. i know all pertinent hipaa policies by heart. is this needle size working for you? i bet i can get you a 72-hour emergency supply of that blood pressure med while your prescriber is out of office. i wont say anything weird. but. dear tumblr followers, i am being a sicko about it internally

[3liza]

re: last reblog - saw a TikTok ad the other day of a zoomer lifestyle peddler visually coded as a Nonbinary Dirtbag Leftist (dyed ratty hair, conspicuous piercings, cheap punk clothing) attempting to sell me an ebook about how to elevate my class position by buying a turnkey business like a laundromat.

so, exploiting the poor. and I mean they aren't wrong, that's how you get class mobile. I don't think it's actually possible to run a business like that ethically and still make a profit. maybe I'm wrong. but it seems like every bit of the profit is extracted from a dependence upon the poverty of the clientele, eg, lack of access to home laundry, charging greater than cost for time, water, soap and cleanliness which are all human rights, hiring employees at minimum wage, etc. the entire basis of charging money for such an amenity is a process of creating waste also, it creates waste in travel from home to the Laundromat, it creates waste in putting a laundromat in a storefront where housing could be, it creates waste in handling money and bills for a business that isnt essential etc etc. and it's an economic coercion because clean clothes aren't something you can budget or cut down on, you basically have your clientele by the balls.

on the other hand I'm rapidly approaching a grinding surface in terms of either entering into one of these exploitative processes as a means-of-production owner, which would be accomplished purely through debt on my part, or having to withdraw to permanent poverty, and the third option is winning the lottery either literally or figuratively through an unforeseen inheritance, sudden recovery from illness, or getting popular on social media in a way that produces profit

I think the anarcho syndicalists are broadly correct in that small organization is the correct move, eg, I'm about to lead test my apartment water supply and do some other moves that I expect to use to lower my rent, but the bigger project would be to contact the other tenants and see if they'd be interested in essential a "hostile" acquisition of the building based on having it fail a bunch of inspections, which I absolutely think is possible.

I could see using a small syndicate of partners/friends to collectively purchase the laundromat as a co-op. but would the profit splitting make it not worthwhile? maybe we would recoup from not having to hire any employees and just taking the shifts ourselves. this is the classic American immigrant model and it's a classic for a reason. I would really hate trying to do all that horizontal organizing though (huge cost for me personally)

idk how any of those stuff works. my parents are from the managerial-intellegentsia officer class and are stupid about money from a weird combination of having too much of it and too little. the overeducated poor. food insecure people who get all the jokes on Frasier. extraordinarily weird class position, it's sort of like being in the circus or being a pickpocket. you can fool people into thinking you're wealthy when you aren't, which is why I'm so insane on here about grammar and spelling, because you don't know until you're actually on the other side of it how much your level of education affects your material existence, even if the education is DIY. I have been literally homeless for periods of time and have almost always been poor, and the amount of "skating by" you can do on good grammar and nice table manners is like a big secret no one tells you anymore because the boomers pretended they got rid of all that jive during the summer of love. people have gotten REALLY mad at me on here about this topic I think because they think I'm enforcing these cultural standards every time I try to teach people about them. I'm trying to warn you!!

think of it this way: how long is someone willing to let you stay in their coffee shop or diner or house if you're "acting poor", vs how long if you're charming and helpful and conscientious? if you're loud and using "low class" dialect vs if someone has at some point taught you to act fancy? this is extremely racialized obviously. I can't speak on that.

the communist coin op laundry could have a shuttle service and group wash nights where people can combine laundry to use the big washers and dryers for larger loads at lower total cost if they were willing to sort out their clothes at the end 😔

[pub-lius]

Hi! Happy to see you’re posting again! Hope your recent traveling has been enjoyable.

Lately I’ve been deep in research about Alexander Hamilton’s tenure as a New York artillery captain (for purposes of my historical fiction series about AH), and I was just genuinely curious what your thoughts were on this short period? Besides the three or four highlights most books acknowledge, I’ve noticed the details of his men and such haven’t been discussed too often, which makes me sad because this little period has become super fascinating to me.

Hope this finds you well!

Hey man! Traveling has been great, it’s one of my biggest passions and I was very happy to recently see some historical landmarks in Boston recently

I absolutely LOVE that you’re interested in Hamilton’s time as artillery captain, because it’s often just a footnote in his life story, but it was his whole life for around a year. It is really sad that we’ve lost details about his men, since they were very important to him, and I wish we could know them too. It’s definitely one of the things I’d ask him about if I ever had the chance.

By all accounts, Hamilton was a very good leader, and he was very attached to his men in the artillery company. Even though he was younger than most of them, he took on a more paternal, caring role, which is later reflected when he tutored young law interns and with his own children.

It is absolutely to Hamilton’s credit that he advocated so strongly for his men to have the necessary supplies and accommodations, and it carried on with him when he joined Washington’s staff. There’s also some indication that he had a hard time with the decision to leave his command to be an ADC, not only for the fact that he’d be leaving an active position for a sedentary one in an office, but due to his connection to the men who remained. He would maintain contact with some of them for the rest of their lives, and those who spoke about their service under him were proud to have had him as their captain.

I wholeheartedly believe that this period really shows us a lot about Hamilton’s character, which is so multifaceted that we hardly see a particular time where all aspects of it can be seen. Given that he was so young at this time, much of his personality and wisdom had yet to develop, but so much of it is still clear. From his frenzied work ethic to his paternal gentleness, along with his adrenaline addiction and hunger for distinction and honor, it’s all visible in little glimpses in this early period. I highly encourage you to read through some of his correspondence on Founders Online if you’re unable to find a good book on it, since i know they’re scarce. Ive personally read through it, and its so distinctly Hamilton that its almost nostalgic for anyone who’s familiar with his writing.

Thank you for the ask, i love giving my thoughts. And i’m very interested in hearing more about this historical fiction series. I just finished reading another mutual’s novel about Lafayette, so know I will eat that shit up

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Norwegian bank withdraws investment in company for violating Indigenous rights in Brazil

Prosegur company, linked to community violence cases, lost over US$ 6 million from the Norwegian Global Fund

Last Thursday (5), the Bank of Norway published a note on its website informing of the withdrawal of six companies from the Norwegian Government's Global Pension Fund (GPFG) due to human rights violations. Among them is the Spanish company Prosegur, a subsidiary in Brazil that provides services to the oil and fat producer Agropalma in Pará. According to the notice, Prosegur is practicing "serious and systematic human rights violations."    

The decision is based on a recommendation published in April 2024 by the Ethics Council of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund. The council determines which activities will receive investments based on guidelines on compliance with human rights and sustainable environmental practices.   

"Between 2021 and 2023, while on guard duty at Agropalma, security guards from SegurPro [responsible for Prosegur's security sector] prevented Indigenous peoples from visiting their ancient graves, fishing in the Acará River, and traveling to the town they depend on to buy supplies and seek medical attention," the recommendation states.   

The recommendation is based on news reports, information from Prosegur's website, public documents from the Pará Public Prosecutor's Office (MPPA, in Portuguese), and a public civil action ruling. The document also uses information from the NGO Global Witness, which published the report The Shadow of Oil Palm in 2022, which shows the rights violations against Indigenous peoples and traditional communities because of the expansion of oil palm plantations in Brazil. "In the quilombola communities of Vila Gonçalves and Balsa, 206 families feel strangled by the oil palm plantations around them," the report says.

Continue reading.

[void-ink-studios]

Traitorous Cockroach

I wrote that idea I had about Orbo!

It was fun, writing from a bastard's perspective. Orbo is simply the worst, unapologetically so. He's a narcissist, and I will not say sorry for writing him as such.

So enjoy Scarab putting him in his place!

Word Count: 4,100

When Orbo got to roll back out into the light for the first time in... what, 5,000 years, he thought he'd finally be allowed a bit of peace.

He thought he'd have his rad office back, he could find someone to get rid of this fucking snake, and he could spend the rest of eternity not thinking of two certain gods ever again.

He gave the Organizer nothing more than what was strictly necessary in terms of a farewell. He listened to the Judge prattle on about how they hoped Orbo had seen the error of his ways or whatever.

It was all worth it for when he'd get his office back.

Until the Organizer handed a piece of paper with a new room assignment.

"Demoted?!"

The Organizer gave no verbal reaction to the Star Core's indignation.

"Hold on, wait, I served my time! I want my office back!"

"Did you expect to be granted your old position back after what you were in trouble for in the first place? Do I need to go over everything you were found guilty of again? What were you honestly expecting?"

Orbo sputtered for a second, feeling himself shrink a moment at her harsh tone.

"Orbo, you stand before the Judge to answer for several egregious violations of Judgement Hall conduct and ethics. Organizer, please read the charges."

Orbo couldn't believe this was happening. Just a few days ago, he was about to get his buddy the Wishmaster back from whatever spell that bug put on him and now... Now he was standing in the Judgement Hall like some kind of criminal?!

"Yes, Judge. Orbo, you stand accused of abuse of Judgement Hall resources, repeated instances of abuse of power over subordinates, failure to respond to reported threats in a timely or appropriate manner, and inappropriate enactment of punishment outside of your authority and jurisdiction."

"Orbo, how do you explain these charges?"

"I... They're not true! None of that is true!"

"Is it, or is it not true you sent a High Auditor on missions meant to be handled by Interns and Low Auditors? These include cases of misattribution of Judgement Hall supplies and misuse of Judgement Hall time."

"W-Well, yes, I sent Scarab on those missions. But he was out of important missions to do!"

"The appropriate course of action would be to let Scarab rest if that were the case. Sending him out on such missions is a waste of his time, your time, the Judgement Hall's time, and is taking learning opportunities from new recruits, which has lead to an overall decrease in productivity in the lower branches of Auditors. Organizer, is this assessment accurate?"

"Yes Judge."

"That is one charge you have lied about. Do you wish to revise your previous statements? If you revise right now, I will not add perjury onto your charge list. Otherwise, we can continue down the list, and I will add a new charge of perjury for every single instance we find. So I will ask again. Orbo, how do you explain these charges?"

Orbo swallowed at the memory of his... interesting trial. He shook his head, looking back up to the Organizer, who seemed to be preoccupied reading something on the desk.

"But-"

"Not to mention your... substandard performance in the Archives. No, I can't grant you your previous position at this time. Perhaps if you show improvement, we can revisit this. But for now, you are being reassigned."

He couldn't believe this.

He was a god. He was older than most of the starry-eyed dolts in the pantheon, he had earned his position!

"Let's see... Hmm, no, you've been out of practice far too long to be an Auditor again... Let's see here... Ah, here's a place for you."

She handed him a piece of paper.

"...Compiler? As in... as in the guys who sort through those endless stacks of paperwork looking for discrepancies?" She couldn't be serious. She couldn't really be diminishing him to... to a paper pusher!

"Yes, a Compiler. You'd have no subordinates to terrorize, and it's one of the only jobs in my jurisdiction that you can't fail at badly enough to cause a crisis."

"But... But that's... That's almost the bottom of the barrel! I have Seniority over everyone in that office!"

"Yes, I'm sure they'll be impressed that such an old guard is joining them. If you don't like it, you can always continue where you left off in the Archives."

The door to the side of her slid open, the dusty smelling ozone seeping into the room.

"N-No! No, that won't be necessary, mate. Compiler it is then..."

She hummed, gesturing for the paper to be returned. Orbo silently obeyed, wincing as she brought the stamp down, and handed it back to him.

"Glad we have reached an agreement. Now then, you're to report to your new office immediately. You're dismissed."

Orbo's eyes widened as the door to her office opened.

"W-Wait!"

The Orgranizer shifted a few tired eyes at him.

"Is something the matter?"

He squirmed a little under her gaze, but took a deep breath.

"Could you do... something about this?"

He gestured to the snake currently sinking its teeth deep into the side of his head. He was thankful he had no blood to spill.

"I'm sorry but curses and the breaking of them are not part of my jurisdiction. You either need to resolve it with the one who cursed you, or take it through the official channels and file a request for the Judge."

"The Judge?!" The snake snarled, biting a bit harder, making him wince. "The Judge has a waiting list lightyears long!"

"Well then. Better file one as soon as your first break starts. You might want to get going."

And so, Orbo did.

He languished in the Compiler's office. It was as dreadfully boring as he imagined. Paperwork stacks a mile tall, replaced with a new one just as he nearly finished.

He wondered if his punishment ever actually ended.

And don't get him started on his... coworkers. Nothing special, most of them not even truly immortal. Many of them were just long-lived species on the intergalactic stage. Most of them didn't even have magic, not even innately. And none of them had a remotely interesting thought to share.

Several tried to chat, but none were even remotely cool enough to dignify with a response. Eventually, they got the hint and stopped trying.

One of them even had the audacity to try and pet the snake latched onto him. Called it cute.

Until one of them, finally, said something worth his attention.

"Guys! Guys you'll never guess what just happened!"

Orbo rolled his eyes as he continued working through his newest stack. The one currently disrupting the quiet was an odd little thing, an octopus looking creature, piloting some kind of robotic skeleton.

"What happened this time, did you finally catch your lunch thief?"

Nope, because that would be Orbo.

"No, that's still a bust. No, I saw Scarab! He was here, and he even said hi to me!"

Now they had his attention. He turned to look more at the excited alien. Wait... excited? About Scarab?

"No way! And you didn't tell us the Star Auditor was here? Glorm, I will tie your tentacles in a knot, I swear to Glob-"

"I didn't know! I literally just got back from delivering something to one of the managers, and he was just... There! Just leaving the Organizer's office!"

"And you're sure he said hi to you?"

"Yes! He asked where I was coming from and said to keep up the good work!"

No, this couldn't be right. This was the same Scarab, yes? The traitorous little cockroach, there was no way he was being spoken of with... awe, right? He must be mishearing the emotions in their voice.

"Sorry you had to experience that, mate" he decided to butt in.

The office went weirdly quiet. They were looking at him now, but with dumb confusion.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"If this is the same Scarab I remember, I can't imagine seeing him being pleasant. Not a cool bone in his body." Orbo shivered just thinking about it.

"Wait... You knew Scarab from back in the day? Back when he was the God Auditor?"

"Knew him? I was his boss."

"Is it true? Is it true that he was hand-picked by the Boss for defeating a Comic threat as a mortal?"

Orbo scoffed. "He got lucky. Wouldn't have been able to without that crystal he swiped from the Judgement Hall. Look, just take my word for it, you don't wanna be on his radar. Best to avoid him in my opinion."

With that, he turned back to his desk, satisfied.

"...Where have you been for the past, I don't know, eons?"

And he stopped again.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean... Scarab's awesome! He saved his home world, like, single handedly! As a mortal!"

"Like I said, he got lucky." How did these knuckleheads not get it yet?

"He was the most effective Auditor of all time! He's the Organizer's go-to!"

"Her personal enforcer if I remember correctly!"

"Wait, what?" When did that happen?

"He's captured almost every cosmic criminal sitting in the Neo Citadel!"

"He's an inspiration! He was mortal, and he managed to do all that! Gives me hope maybe I could do something amazing like that."

"Yeah, maybe when you finally remember which stamp goes on which form, we'll talk."

They all laughed with each other like they'd said something actually witty but... Orbo was just... stumped. How is Scarab this... well liked? What happened in the time he was gone? He thought he had everyone being on the same page as him.

There was nothing admirable about a cockroach.

Looks like this place really has gone mad.

He shoved it out of his mind for now, more focused on trying to get his office back than worry about what that skittering little creature was up to.

Until he heard about it again.

"I think Scarab's going to be hosting a seminar soon, right? Yeah, for the new Interns. Maybe they'd let some of us hang out in the back?"

And again.

"You hear Scarab took down the Star Leech? Can't imagine what that battle must've looked like. Wonder what he'll go after next."

And again.

"I saw Scarab out by the gardens a bit ago. I wanted to talk to him, but I think he was meditating or something. Looked peaceful, I might try it."

Okay, what was happening?

Back when he was in charge, Orbo practically had to pull teeth to get Scarab in the Judgement Hall. Now it seemed he was here every other minute. And people didn't seem to have a problem with it. How? How did no one see the issue here?

Something was off. Something had changed. But what?

A particularly hard bite to his back prompted a potential answer.

Prismo.

Prismo had to have done something, there's no other reason Scarab had such free reign.

He was still baffled by the Wishmaster's behavior. How could someone so... so cool fall for such a repulsive little worm? He acted like... like he loved him or something.

He gagged at the thought.

Prismo had to be swaying the pantheon, that was the only explanation.

If Orbo had known that the mercy he granted the bug would blow up this badly, he'd have just chucked him in the furnace and been done with it.

Why hadn't he? He'd finally gotten what he wanted for eons, and he just... Why did Prismo stick out for him? It still made no sense.

At first, he'd been amused. Sure, let the Wishmaster "mentor" Scarab for a bit. Prismo had an annoying habit of trying to see the best in everyone. But, spend a long enough time with Scarab, and that'd be his last ally gone. He waited for the day he got contacted by Prismo telling him he changed his mind, he wanted this gross bug out of the Time Room, and Orbo would be the hero.

Except... the call never came.

A day past.

Then a week.

Then a few months.

Nothing.

A part of Orbo worried Scarab might've finally killed the Wishmaster, but that would've been instant news. No, Prismo was probably okay...

Maybe he was just too nice a guy to say anything? Afterall, he knew first hand how awful Scarab was to deal with at the best of times, much less when stuck with the one entity he hates the most.

He really should apologize to Prismo for that one.

And yet, when he showed up, Prismo didn't take the out! Despite him witnessing Scarab's creepy behavior, he was on the ceiling for Glob's sake, but Prismo seemed none to care! He got angry at him! Him! Scarab must've been saying something. Something to turn their beloved Wishmaster against them.

How else would you explain that terrifying shadow he turned into?

Orbo was getting tired of hearing about Scarab. He even saw him, once, out in the hall. Didn't even acknowledge him.

How dare he.

"GUYS!"

His manager (ugh) barged into the office, clearly excited about something. Everyone jumped as he banged the door open, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.

"What what what?"

"Guess who just got invited to a party at the Time Cube?!"

"No way!"

"What?! Jealous!"

"Aw man, lucky!"

Orbo sat there. Baffled. Prismo's hosting... parties again? And he wasn't invited???

Wait, since when was Prismo's parties invitation based?

"I know, right? I guess I really made an impression on Scarab! He got me invited! I can't believe I get to party with both Wishmasters! Somebody pinch me! I'll put in a good word for you guys, maybe I can get Scarab to come in one day!"

Wait wait wait wait wait.

"Did you just say... BOTH Wishmasters? I thought Prismo was the only one?"

Now they looked at him like he has three heads.

"Wow, you really missed a lot, Orbo. Yeah, Scarab's a Wishmaster, part of the time. After a string of big cases, the Boss gives him some time to be Wishmaster alongside Prismo. Sounds like a lot of work to me, but it seems to work for the both of them."

"Oh, it works alright. They get to smooch all they want."

"Carsinda! We don't gossip like that!"

"Since when? You know it's true, it's not gossip if everybody knows."

Okay, now Orbo's brain was broken.

Prismo and Scarab? Together?

The thought of anyone wanting Scarab like that... to say it made him retch was an understatement.

And here he thought Prismo had decent taste.

Although, from what he's heard about a connection he had to some... mortal, maybe that was an overestimation.

This entire place has gone mad, that's the only explanation. Things have fallen apart without him. People have forgotten exactly what Scarab is. What he always will be.

A dirty little traitorous cockroach.

And dirty little cockroaches don't get to win. They don't get to hang out in the most powerful spot in the multiverse, in the good graces of the most powerful gods in the pantheon. Not when awesome, true gods like him is left to languish in a meaningless office job!

No, they belong in the dirt. Preferably under a boot.

Hmm...

Maybe it was time to pay his old pals a visit. Just to clear the air.

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

It wasn't hard, slipping away from the office. And getting to the Time Room from the Judgement Hall was simple enough.

But... woah. Seems the Time Room's... changed a bit.

He lingered in the doorway, just taking it in, swallowing down winces and yelps from his "buddy's" little interruptions.

There were plants everywhere. Vines, ferns, flowers, even a willow tree. How they were there, he had no idea. He thoughts things couldn't really... live? Not in the Time Room at least. And yet, it looked like a terrarium in here, with strange glowing flowers to boot.

Crystals wrapped in gold filigree cast a soft light, contrasting against the strange clouds swirling at the ceiling. Throw rugs covered a large chunk of the floor, a desk against a wall, and many shelves climbing up and down the previously featureless surfaces of the Time Room. The only wall spared of strange shelves and photos was the TV Wall it would seem.

Well, at least the hot tub was still there, sitting underneath the previously mentioned willow tree. Something familiar.

An elaborate nest of pillows and blankets nearly covered up and comfortable looking seating area, so all encompassing it took up a huge corner of the room.

And it was there that he saw... them.

Prismo, holding Scarab against his chest, sitting on the couch.

Orbo had to blink a few times to process what he was seeing.

Prismo. Was off the wall. He looked strange, not just because he wasn't just a shadow anymore. His legs looked different, he appeared to be made out of gas, he had stars orbiting him, it all looked... wrong. That wasn't his Prismo.

Scarab looked pretty much as hideous as he remembered. There wasn't even the decency to wear his mask. Just his horrid face, out for all to see.

The cockroach seemed to be asleep, thankfully, tucked in close to Prismo's side as the Wishmaster browsed the TV Wall. Scarab made those odd chittering noises as he slept, mandibles twitching ever so slightly. Prismo seemed to have taken to idly petting Scarab's head. It was... sugary sweet.

Wait a second... Were those....?

Yep. Antenna. Ghostly blue antenna, but antenna none the less. Prismo curled his finger around one and dragged up, earning himself a content sigh from the bug in his arms.

How in Glob's name did he get his antenna back? He made sure they were gone, he watched them get cut from his scalp, he tossed them into the incinerator himself!

Wait, if his antenna were back did that mean...? No... No, he couldn't have those back...

The longer he stared, the more confused he became. What had happened to this pantheon?

Scarab's antenna twitched. They shivered, perking upright, making the cockroach rouse from his slumber. A nervous chitter fell from his mouth.

"Hmm? Something the matter, Lovebug?"

"...I know you're there" Scarab said, voice flat.

Well, now or never.

Orbo rolled on in, smiling.

"Ya got me. Guess who got out of prison!"

Scarab sat up, his eyes narrowed but expression blank. Prismo frowned.

"What are you doing here, Orbo?"

"What, I can't visit my favorite Wishmaster after 5,000 years? Like what you've done with the place."

Neither entity seemed impressed.

"Get to the point" Prismo growled.

Woah, tough crowd. He yelped a bit as the snake sunk its teeth into the top of his head. He missed Prismo's little smirk.

"Just wanted to confirm some... rumors I heard around the office. Scarab's Wishmaster now?"

"I am. Part time, at least."

"Hmm. So. You finally got all you wanted, Scrabs?"

"You don't have permission to call me that."

Orbo's head throbbed. This little...

"Oh you skittering little-"

The snake on his head seemed to get a bit bigger. A bit heavier, now biting over and over. Prismo had stood up at some point, leering angrily over Orbo.

"I thought I made it clear you aren't welcome in the Time Room, Orbo. I thought that maybe the Archive might've given you time to think or something. Maybe realize what a scum bag you were. But I guess not."

Scarab watched from the sidelines, an even expression on his horrid little face.

"Oh shove off you sham of a Wishmaster! You and I both know that he wouldn't have none of this if it weren't for you! He's a leech. And you're just letting him cling to your belly."

"That's it, get out-"

Prismo stopped as a hand tapped his shoulder. Scarab had stood up and walked to stand beside the Wishmaster.

"Lovebug?"

Scarab took a deep breath.

"Let me handle this, Prismo."

The dream's eyes widened, looking between Scarab and Orbo concerned.

"Are you sure...?"

"Completely. It's clear he has something to say to me. I say let him say his piece. And I'll say mine. And then I kick him out."

The two shared a look with each other, a silent conversation bouncing back and forth between them. Prismo nodded, taking a step back to observe.

Scarab turned back to Orbo.

"You've got something you want to say to me, Orbo? Now's the time. Go ahead. Nothing will leave this room. You've never held back before."

Orbo blinked. Scara had never looked this... calm before. He saw the traces of wish magic thrumming across his shell.

"You're nothing. You know that, right Scrabs? You're just a dirty little cockroach. This life ain't meant for the likes of you."

"Oh come now. Is that the best you've got?"

Rage boiled into Orbo's heart.

"You know what I said was right. This? All this? It's all Prismo. You'd be nothing without him. I'd have tossed you in the incinerator without a second thought if not for him. Just like I did with your antenna and your wings."

He saw Scarab stiffen a bit, but his expression remained unchanged. Prismo seemed to be boiling, but the cockroach seemed to be keeping him at bay.

"Yeah, there's that little mystery solved for you, mate. I tossed your antenna the second you left. I kept your wings in a drawer for a few centuries. Then I tossed those too. It's what creatures like you are meant for. You're an ugly little novelty. And if it wasn't for him trying to get some, you'd be nothing. You're built on nothing but luck and riding on someone else's coattails. You and I both know it.

"I'd do it all again. I'd just be better at training you to keep your mouth shut."

Scarab was still. Silent.

Yeah, that's right. You know I'm right, you cockroach.

"Are you done?"

Orbo's scowl deepened. He didn't step down, he never would to the likes of Scarab.

"Seems like it. You know... Everything you said probably would've... I'm not sure. Devastated me? If it were a few thousand years ago, I'd have believed everything you said. I still believe some of it. I truly believe you'd have done everything you did to me, again and again. Even after one million years in the Archive, you would still see me as nothing but a skittering little insect at your feet."

Scarab opened his elytra, letting his false wings carry him up into a relaxed hover, above Orbo.

"But... Well, we're not 5,000 years ago. I lived. I carried on. You languished. I know where you're stationed, Orbo. I know all you have is words. Empty words. You can't help but recall what happened all those eons ago, because you can't do anything except revel in the past."

Scarab took a moment to examine his talons before looking back down at the Star Core.

"I know what you are, Orbo."

He lowered himself, leaning his face in close.

"You're empty. You're sad and empty. There's just... nothing but hollow ego inside you."

Scarab raised himself back up, his expression almost softening.

"That's the difference between us, Orbo. You're nothing but ego, so what are you when you sit at the bottom of the hierarchy? I'm not interested in your politics. I'm not interested in your games. I know you only came here to play. But you're the only one at the table, Orbo. You're playing by yourself."

Scarab let himself drift into a relaxed position, even reaching down to pet the snake's head softly.

"I don't forgive you, for what you did to me. But I will thank you. Unfortunately, you have nothing else I want. Perhaps I'll forgive you, in a millennia or two. Honestly, I hope all the best for you. But... above all else..."

Scarab landed on the ground again, hands folded in front of him.

"Above all else, I pity you Orbo. I. Pity. You. Now then, this has been a good chat. Goodbye."

And with a snap, Orbo was gone. Dumped right back in the compiler's office. With nothing but a hollow anger and confusion.

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

Scarab released a shuddering breath. Prismo was by his side in an instant, cooing and kissing the side of his head and neck, nuzzling his cheek.

"You did so good, Lovebug... Glob, I'm so proud of you..."

Scarab nodded. His hands trembled, but he made sure to get a good hold of Prismo's. He turned his head to nuzzle back. He let the Wishmaster drag him back to the couch, wrapping around him in a loving embrace, murmuring sweet nothings.

Scarab thought hard about what just happened. What he said.

That was hard. That was terrifying. But...

He purred into Prismo's sweet touched. He looked all around their little paradise, their home. He was safe here. He was loved here.

Above all, he was free here.