#guess if next chap is longer you know why)

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 3

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I wanna say this real quick before this gets any deeper. This fic was my first, so I didn't know a whole lot about Batman and the Batfam? I'm not gonna change anything about it cuz growth and progress and shit like that (also I cringe looking at these first few chapters...) but I know a lot more about the DC verse now and I know some of this to be wildly inaccurate or OOC. I'm not apologizing. I just thought you should know ;)

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

Galaxies on the brain, Dick wallows in the pain

Sore.

That's all Tim could feel. Sore and tired and heavy and cold. He could feel warm hands (weren't they supposed to be cold?) Holding him by the shoulders and knees. Something soft meets his back and he falls deeper into unconsciousness.

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

Tim wakes up with a groan. His arm ached like he'd hung by Dick's trapeze for too long, his face felt itchy, and every time he took a breath his chest burned. His eyelids felt like lead and his head filled with cotton, he absently wondered what day he was on of no sleep when he'd finally collapsed.

As his thoughts swam the contents of the previous night (nights? How long was he asleep for?) Started to bubble to the surface of his consciousness. The stakeout, the full-bodied chill and his missing bug leading to the warehouse, sounds of gunshots and a closeup with a steel grey roof. After that, things get fuzzier. He remembered… Green, and white hair? Then an image of a galaxy came to him and he wondered if maybe he really had died.

Something to his right rustled and he struggled to pry open an eye enough to see. Dick was slumped in a chair next to his bed (when did he get to a bed?) reading over what seemed to be police reports. Tim tried to speak but when he went for air he came up in a coughing fit.

Dick's head snapped to attention as his little brother, now awake, tried to hack up what was left of his lung.

"Hey! Hey, Tim, you're okay. You're in the medbay in the Batcave. Calm down and try not to breathe too deeply okay?" Dick soothed as he reached for the glass of water with a straw Alfred had left for when Tim woke up.

As he watched his little brother get his breathing under control and take a small sip from the cup offered Dick felt his nerves settle for the first time that night. His brother was awake. Awake meant alive. Hurt, but alive. He settled back into his chair and shook out a relieved sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Even with the water Tim's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"I said I'd be in Gotham for the weekend, didn't I? I got the call from your comm and picked you up from the warehouse district."

"Call?" Tim's voice cracked with confusion. "I don't remember sending a distress signal…" He trailed off as another hacking cough wracked through his frame. Dick held out the glass again and Tim gratefully took a longer drink.

"… What do you remember from last night?" Dick asked tentatively.

"I remember… the stakeout, my tracker going missing and following the signal to a warehouse by the docks…" Tim gasped, then cringed as the motion sent a jolt of pain down his front.

"I remember the thieves," he ground out. "I'd found their base of operations… but I was sloppy, I didn't notice one of the goons come up behind me until I'd already knocked him over. Then shit hit the fan… I remember making it out, and running, then I guess I got shot? It gets fuzzy from there…" He huffs, shaking the flashing images of white hair and swirling nebulas clear from his sleep addled mind.

He looks over to see Dick with a serious yet contemplative expression, looking down at the bedrest between them and nothing at all.

Curious and weary, Tim mutters a raspy "Why? Something happen?"

Dick seems to mull something over before shaking his head and looking up with a tired smile.

"Nothing serious enough to discuss right now. Why don't you get some more sleep Timmy? God knows you could use it."

Tim wanted to protest, he really did! But the sound of the heart monitor and that strangely familiar buzzing was already restuffing his head with cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier. That feeling of calm and safe washed over him again, sleep quickly following it. He nodded sluggishly and dove back into dreamland with his last thought ringing in his head; 'huh, the buzz sounds more like a purr now.'

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

Danny was not freaking out. He wasn't! He was completely fine with being in the freaking Batcave because he was a hero too. Totally normal.

The sound that wanted to escape his throat was not a squeal. Anyone that told you it was is a liar. 

As he floated through the stalactites (stalagmites? He slept through that particular science class.) He had to physically stop himself from dropping his invisibility and glowing with the force of a neutron star. He was in the Batcave! Tucker and Sam would totally freak over this when he told them. Tucker would have an aneurysm over half the tech he'd seen since getting here (not that he wouldn't already have an aneurysm over him not checking in over the last three days) and Sam would have a field day with the aesthetic of the place. He didn't dare stray too far from his—(not his, no, that's not right) the vigilante he's protecting, which was, in fact, Timothy Drake-Wayne??

He has so many questions.

Like, why was Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprise, going around at night as Red Robin?? Not that he thinks it's wrong, or anything. Danny just feels like that's a lot of stress to have on a teenager's shoulders.

He knows from experience.

The fact that he's also seen Nightwing out of costume, as well as Robin, Orphan, and spoiler with their masks off has Danny feeling like he's seen them practically naked. Because, come on, Damian Wayne was Robin, Orphan was Cassandra Wayne, and Dick Grayson was Nightwing? He'd basically just learned Gotham's richest socialite family all lived double lives as superheroes! If he wasn't already fangirling about being in the Batcave ('the freaking Batcave, ancients end him!') he'd be rolling in his grave laughing and crying from the irony.

Kicking off the nearest stalagmite (stalactite? Still no clue) he floats back down to hover just above the main floor housing the Bat Computer (!!!) with Dick Grayson talking to someone on the other end.

"-have listened to him when he first brought it up a week ago, now he's in a hospital bed! Barbara what am I going to do, I feel like this is all my fault." He watched as Dick (Nightwing? Mr. Grayson?) slumped down in his seat and put his face in his hands. That faraway stare listlessly gazing at the keyboard through slits in his fingers.

Before he could startle the man out of his train of thought the woman from the other end of the call—Barbara, he remembered—spoke up.

"You know you can't blame yourself too badly for that, Dick. While the ribbing may have gone a bit further than you'd have liked, you couldn't have been able to save Tim from getting shot. You were still at least an hour outside the city limits when Tim went to follow the lead his… friend gave him." The way she said 'friend' told Danny she still didn't quite believe in his existence yet, and he was okay with that. As long as Red Robin—Tim?—knew he was there to help, he could let the other members of the batclan think he wasn't real.

A loud groan escapes the older man as he leans back to look at the ceiling of the cave.

"I know Babs," he bemoans, "But I still can't get those thoughts out of my head!" He reached up to message his temples with one hand as silence fills the cave. This time Danny is able to help his friends(?) brothers' turmoil by blowing a bit of frost out and directing it to the back of Dick's hand.

Startled, Dick's head whips around to either side of him, spinning the chair around to face away from the bat computer with a wary gaze before slowly rotating back. He stared at his hand, the one that had previously been nursing his headache and the one that had been covered in frost.

At least, he thought it was.

Dick recalls when Alfred had first pulled off Tim's first aid bandages. He hadn't even changed out of his gear, needing to see the extent of the damage to his little brother, only to watch as green tinged blue ice was revealed to be keeping him together. The ice kept the hole from tearing and bacteria from entering his punctured lung. Alfred shared a look with Dick, confirming that he wasn't the only one seeing the strange ice. As they tried to touch the ice though -get a sample for analysis- it, along with the glove being used as a tourniquet, sublimated away to mist. Leaving the now gaping wound in his brother's side and arm to weep blood, slow and thick.

He left for the showers after that. Better to let a professional patch his brother up than someone with shaking hands and blurry vision.

"Do you think Tim's imaginary friend is a meta?" The words escaped Dick's lips before he'd realized he'd thought them. Refocusing as he heard Babs hum pensively.

"With what you've told me about the magic ice that sealed Tim's wounds, it's possible," she mused. The soft tapping if a keyboard registered on the mic as she pulled something up

"The thing is though, there aren't any registered or rumoured metas with an ice-like powerset in or around Gotham. If there were, we'd be seeing more of them somewhere, ice power sets tend to be flashier." More tapping, then a pained huff came through the speakers.

"It doesn't help that I can't seem to restore Tim's footage from after he fell off the roof," she grumbles.

"What do you mean 'can't restore it'? Even with his mask torn the way it was, the cameras in the lenses should've been working fine."

"That's the thing though! His mask only cut after he fell, it was working perfectly up till that point, then this static whine comes on over the audio and the video glitches out before cutting to static until you find him. It wasn't a signal jammer or EMP, both would do damage to more than just his camera, and a jammer would leave a trace of interference." Her groan echoes through the cave, bringing a small smile to Dick's face as she continues.

"The comm too, if something had tampered with it I'd be able to tell! And yet there's no evidence of tampering and I have a recording of some almost unintelligible mess of a voice talking to us over the main line. Right beside ours that come over with perfect clarity. It just doesn't make sense!"

A chuckle couldn't help but escape Dick's lips as Babs let out a defeated huff on her end. Glancing back towards the medbay he recalled the few times Tim tried to tell him about his patrol companion.

"A snowflake in September," he mumbled pensively, gaze sinking down to his hand again. Then with sudden clarity, he whipped his head up and scanned the Batcave more closely than before, squinting up into the dark corners of the high ceiling.

At one point Danny thought Dick had caught him somehow, the odd cold spot in the area. His shoulders sagged in quiet relief when the vigilantes' eyes swept over where he was floating.

A cold spot in a cold cave isn't odd, after all, and the sensors weren't displaying anything unusual.

Dick glanced back to his hand one more time before turning back to the bat computer and telling Barbara he'd give her an update on Tim's situation in the morning. Saying their 'sleep well's' Danny watched as Dick shut off the giant computer, checked in on Tim one more time then headed to the elevator.

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

Tim woke up quicker than he had previously. The smell of breakfast wafted to the medbay even from all the way upstairs and his stomach rolled in hunger. Something cold was sitting over Tim's wound, pressing into it but strangely not hurting him in any way. The cold felt familiar, comfortably cool but not chilling, and he could faintly make out a low hum -purr?- coming from somewhere to his left. He cracked one eye open to see both what was in him and the origin of the purr, when the pressure on his wounds released. The lightness around his shoulder probably meant there was another cold comforting thing there he hadn't noticed before. Prying both eyes open fully he looked around the small patient room and realized the purring had stopped and that he was alone. He wasn't awake enough yet to wonder why that was strange, just happy when he heard the ding of the elevator open.

Someone in the Batcave meant he could get some food, after all.

Dick poked his head into Tim's room a few seconds later, a bowl of what appeared to be Cream of Wheat in his hand. He gave a smile, seeing his little brother awake, and let his body follow his head into the room. Setting the bowl down on a pull out table for Tim, Dick chipperly asked "how are you feeling, Timbo?"

"Like I decided taking Bane one-on-one was a good idea," he groaned. Sitting up enough so he could eat, he watched Dick give a half-hearted chuckle while staring into the mid-distance. Half remembering the conversation he had with his older brother last night while spooning the warm cereal into his mouth, he looked around and sarcastically commented between bites, "sooo, you gonna tell me what was on your mind when I woke up before? Or do I have to figure it out myself?"

The comment startled Dick more than it should have, and as Tim frowned at the reaction Dick turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room before he spoke.

"That imaginary friend of yours," Tim cut his brother off with another groan.

"If you're still going to make fun of me for that-" Dick raised his hand, trying to pacify the conversation before he could finish.

"Don't worry Timmers, I believe you now. I should have believed you when you brought it up the first time and I'm sorry for that."

Tim almost groaned again when he felt the tension drop from his shoulders, jostling his arm. He wiggled in his bed to readjust himself before allowing Dick to continue.

"I was going to ask if you knew anything more about them. They've been following you around for a month, right? Do you know if they pose any risk to you or the family?"

Tim shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth, it was bland, but it gave him something to distract him from the fact that Dick had steamrolled over an actual apology and went straight to business.

Shaking his head as he swallowed his mouth full down, he began.

"While I don't know much other than they can apparently make ice from nothing and make things glow, I can say they don't have any ill intent. They saved me Dick, after I fell from the roof they caught me and… I think they got the guys chasing me off my back."

He ignored the images of a black-clad white-haired figure flitting through his mind with another mouth full of cereal.

Dick sighed, none of the bats liked not knowing things about what's happening to them, but the fact that the entity following Tim saved him from a bad fall released some tension from the older birds shoulders.

"So you don't think it would do anything to hurt you? I need to make sure, Tim."

They both shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. Pretending not to notice Tim answered, "no, I don't think the thing that's been following me on patrols, helping me with cases, protecting me for a month would hurt me now after all this time."

Was it weird Tim thought that so surely? A little bit. But with the way the room warmed up just as quickly as it cooled had him realising that maybe he and his brother weren't the only ones in the room. Now that he focused, he could feel the quiet cold sitting behind him.

It had never followed him to the cave before.

'Shit.'

The implications of something potentially dangerous being able to make its way into the Batcave, a heavily protected and monitored fortress of a hideout had Tim shivering for a different reason. If B ever found out, he'd have Tim's neck.

He also realized he could hear the thing purring again. 'Like a big cat,' the thought made him huff a laugh, it certainly did seem like he'd taken in a stray, an invisible, cold, possibly monstrous stray, but a stray nonetheless. The purr grew louder to Tim following his laugh and that same feeling of safety washed over him again, like a blanket.

Tim turned around—really just craned his neck, he couldn't really move otherwise—to try to pinpoint where the purr was coming from exactly, but when he faced away from Dick the comfortable noise stopped dead. The feeling of safety stopped with it, making Tim wonder darkly if the creature was intentionally making Tim think it was safe to gain his trust. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came, if it did intend to hurt him, it would be Tim's fault for trusting it.

Turning back around he found Dick watching him. Mumbling a weak and slightly annoyed "what?" He shovelled another spoonful of the now room temperature cereal.

Dick shook his head. 'So the thing following Tim really did come back to the cave with us,' it didn't bode well for them to have a potentially dangerous sentient creature of unknown origin in the cave, but if his brother thought so highly of the thing, he supposed he could let it stay his secret for now. Dodging the question he drawled, "you know, there isn't any footage on your feed from after you slid off that roof."

The "what?" That came from his brother this time sounded less annoyed and more confused, so he counted that as a win.

"That doesn't make sense, my mask wasn't that badly damaged in my escape, or the display would have told me." He watched his brother's brow furrow in thought.

"Yeah, Babs is pulling her hair out because of it. Apparently after you go over this whine comes over the audio and both cut to static until I find you."

The faces his brother was making would be funny if he weren't so curious about it. Seeing his expression finally land on clarity Dick urged "you know what happened?"

"I think I do," Tim admitted. "I heard a buzzing… it didn't have any source that I can remember, so maybe that's what caused it?"

"A buzzing? That could be it, I didn't hear anything when I found you, so it lines up for when the feed comes back."

Noticing the bowl in front of Tim is now, in fact, empty, Dick figures that maybe now should be where he cuts the conversation. The voice over the comms can be addressed once his brother's gotten some more rest. He stands, takes the bowl from the table and turns to leave when he hears Tim mutter a quiet "wait."

Dick stops paces from the door and turns to face his brother. Tim seems to fight with himself for a moment before he ground out "thanks for believing me, finally."

He doesn't look up to see his older brother's reaction, but the smile could be heard in his voice.

"Of course, Tim, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner." With that said, he walks out feeling lighter, and yet with more questions than when he walked in.

Danny watches as Tim sinks into his bed, mindful of his injuries. The bats know about him, with that fact alone he should be leaving, yet even now his core urged him to stay and protect. 

He knows staying is only going to lead to trouble.

He doesn't want to leave.

Leaving means going back to that rundown dump of a townhouse he's been squatting in for the last three months, doing odd jobs around town during the day just to get a bit to eat (not that he needed to eat much with all the ambient ectoplasm in the air) and going back to looking over his shoulder for the GIW or, ancients forbid, his parents.

A soft "hey" breaks him out of his anxious thoughts, and looking over he sees Tim looking in his general direction. The goosebumps on his unbandaged arm tell Danny that he may have made the temperature dip again, unintentionally this time, and he makes a conscious effort to raise it back up to a more comfortable level.

"I know you're there." The sudden admittance made him jump, but Tim continued on, "I know what I saw last night was you. You saved me and I wanted to thank you. Not just for the save, but also the lead on the ghost thieves. For whatever reason you're reluctant to show yourself, and knowing some of my family you have every right to be, but maybe some sign you aren't just some hallucination or actual imaginary thing would be nice? I kinda feel like I'm talking to an actual ghost here." The last bit came out with a chuckle on both ends, Tim for how crazy he feels talking to an empty room and Danny for just how close Tim got with that quip.

Another internal struggle for Danny, oh joy. Revealing himself would be bad, but maybe something small? Tim already knows he makes ice to some capacity, and he's asking so nicely, Danny thought it wouldn't hurt, right?

On the table in front of Tim, where his bland breakfast previously rested a small statuette slowly materialized from condensing mist. Tim watched as the small mound of green tinged ice formed a base, then on nearly invisible supports a nebulous disk spread out. An icy galaxy sat before Tim, about as big as his hand, and it moved. Even after finishing its creation, the edges twisted and swirled in a continuous dance. He could see glittering stars and fluctuating nebulas as tiny clouds of glittering snow.

It was mesmerizing.

Reaching out to touch it, Tim was surprised at how solid it was. It was like touching compacted sand, if they had stuck the sand in an ice box overnight. Ever so gingerly he took the galaxy off its supports and cupped it in his hand. Despite it being made of ice entirely it gave off a strange warmth. It reminded Tim of holding a warm cup of coffee and relaxing with his family. He had to remind himself to breathe as he put the statuette back on its pedestal. The warmth lingered on his palm as he again searched for the cold spot.

It was right in front of him, and he could tell it was watching his reaction. Carefully, he reached out, like he'd done before on that night he'd decided to befriend the strange creature. Unlike before though, his fingers brushed against something. Fabric, he could feel it but there was still nothing to see. His hand slid down what must have been an arm before feeling a fisted hand just over the bed near his thigh. It was tense, and as the cold familiarity of the hand he was holding set in he realized the being sitting on the bed in front of him was afraid. He could feel the quiet anxiety coming off in cold waves, and he had to wonder what it was afraid of.

Tim shifted for better balance and the hand underneath his flinched. Was it… was it afraid of Tim? Afraid of what Tim would do if he knew it was real? That both did and didn't make sense. The being in front of Tim was powerful, he had no doubt it could level all of Gotham if it wanted to, and none of the bats would be able to stop it (not for lack of trying, of course) and yet it was afraid of Tim. Tim, the guys that practically lived off coffee and 5-hour energies, Tim the one that accidentally falls asleep at the batcomputer so regularly Alfred had a specific blanket tucked away just for him. That Tim.

The hand below his flexed again and he realized it must be waiting on an answer. With what he hoped was a reassuring pat to the back of the gloved hand before him, he smiled and snickered, "now, was that so hard?"

The fact that while the hand hadn't moved, the waves of anxious cold he felt warmed up had Tim cheer a silent victory. Trying to look in the direction of where the beings head could be, he continued.

"I get it if you don't wanna show yourself, I really do, but maybe you could keep me company? I probably got six to eight weeks laying in this bed, and I don't know about you, but I'll probably die of boredom before that's up." He chuckles, and going off of the way he feels the hand underneath him bounce, he guessed the thing in front of him does too.

"So yeah, you're welcome to stay, if you want. Maybe help me pull a prank or two, and I know that no matter what you are, you're going to love Alfred's cooking."

Well shit, Danny basically just got the go ahead to haunt the Wayne family, by one of the Waynes. He feels like he should be honoured? Sure the fact he doesn't want to go back to living in that stupid townhouse is another driving factor, but having a friend that doesn't mind his ghosty bits outside of Sam and Tucker sounds really appealing. It doesn't help that he's been really lonely.

Tim feels the hand slide out from under his. Before he can marvel at the fact they did it without making any sound, or mourn the loss of the comforting cold he watches as the galaxy statuette lifts off its base. The statuette hovers above the table for a few moments, then raises and dips repeatedly, straight up and down. Tim laughs at what could only be described as the floating statue nodding at him, before being set down on its base.

"Well I guess that settles it then," he laughs, "if you're going to be around more often, I'll need something to call you though." The room temperature takes a dive, not as cold as before, but still noticeable.

"Okay, I'm going to guess you either don't have a name, "the room temp doesn't change " or have a name but can't or don't want to say it." The room slowly warms up at that. So it has a name but can't use it. Tim can work with that.

"Well, how about I give you a name until you can tell me your real one? I'm not as good as Damian in naming things but I'm sure I can think of something." A hum heard and Tim begins to think of what he could call his new friend. Remembering the white hair he saw the night before and what was probably the same figure as a nebula had his eyes wandering to the statuette sitting prettily before him. So the being either likes space or space themed things (did it come from space? An actual alien? Just another thing to think about.) Trying to recall the knowledge he gained from the few times he's gone stargazing, a name pops into Tim's head that makes him want to laugh.

"How do you like the name Arcturus? If I remember right it's one of the brightest stars and it looks white when you see it in the sky."

The reaction he gets is instantaneous, a loud purr reverberates throughout the small room and this time Tim does laugh.

"I suppose that's as good of a 'yes' as I'll get. Good to finally meet you Arcturus." He holds out a hand before realizing that a handshake probably wasn't going to happen. Before he could take his hand back he felt the hand he was holding previously snake into his and grip it gently. He smiled and shook it, absently noting the claws he could feel poking at the back of his hand.

"I feel like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he grins.

A puff of frost in his face has him snort and grin in the direction of his new friend.

Yeah, this'll be interesting.

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

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Jayra, Malachi, Fairen and Carla's opinions on anywhere with sand summed up after this chapter:

I refuse to apologize for this and all the Star Wars references I made throughout the chap, because they were too easy and fun to make.

But anyway, Star Wars aside, finally got another Chapter done! We return to the Isle where after Fairen faced the test of the Fruit of Venom and the four ran through the door as the cavern collapsed, they find themselves in a desert where the next talisman, the Golden Cobra, awaits Jayra...

[gayleatherstories]

The start of something new

Caring leather dom 46M looking for younger submissive bottom to take care of

I kept going back to the same profile. Ask me why and I couldn't tell you. Truth is, I'm as straight as they come, I just love anal play. I blame my ex to be honest. I had brought up wanting to try anal and the only way she agreed was if she got to peg me first. We fought about it because at first there's no way I was putting anything up there to which she pointed out the hypocrisy of that statement. Long story short I fucking loved it. I think a bit to much for my ex because a couple weeks later she dumped me.

Turns out not a lot of women seemed interested in the idea of topping me. I casually dated a couple girls but every time I brought up pegging or a strap on they seemed to peace out of the relationship. I couldn't get the feeling of being filled like that out of my mind though. So after a while I made a faceless Grindr account "just to see". And that's how I eventually ended up on this 'caring' Dom's profile. My eyes kept going back to his package. I decided to close the app and just keep it moving.

Later that day I saw I got a notification from Grindr.

I've noticed you've checked my profile a couple times. Hello!

I decided to respond.

Hi! Yeah, sorry! I'm just intrigued I guess! Sorry if that was weird haha

No need to be so apologetic boy. I just wanted to let you know that I don't bite ;) What are you looking for?

Him calling me boy made me feel weird but I didn't have anything to lose and I also didn't really think there was any harm in responding.

Well I'm in a bit of a pickle as they say. I'm straight but turns out I love anal play and I haven't really been able to find a girl willing to scratch that specific itch so to speak.

So you did a bit of mental word association with anal play and ended up on a gay app?

Hehe.. yup

Yup

Well, If you want your ass filled I might be willing to oblige. Depends on a couple things though.

Which are?

1. If I'm attracted to you 2. Your willingness to wear leather and/or rubber during playtime. If my profile didn't make it clear already I've got a bit of a kink you see 3. If I'm fucking you, no one else is.

I see

To be honest. I was getting hornier and hornier the longer this conversation kept going on. In my horniness I decided to sent a picture.

Well this is me. I'm fine with the leather/rubber, though I don't have any. And I'm also fine with just you doing that.

You'll do just fine. Some of my old gear will probably fit you. My name is Derrick by the way. You want to set a date?

Nice to meet you Derrick, I'm Steve. And how about next Saturday?

Saturday works. Here's my address. I expect you around 5pm.

And just like that I had set a time and place to get fucked in the ass by a man.

Saturday 4:57 pm

As I rang Derrick's doorbell I suddenly got hit by a wave of anxiety. What the fuck was I doing? I'm not gay. But right when I decided to turn back around and go home the door opened. Derrick was dressed like his picture. Decked out in full leather head to toe. He said hi and welcomed me inside. He offered me a beer which I eagerly accepted. I needed to take the edge off.

Turns out Derrick was a cool dude. We chatted about his work, my work, life etc. When I finished my third beer Derrick asked if I wanted to get down to business. Feeling a bit braver thanks to the alcohol I agreed.

First he took me to his bedroom where he had laid out two outfits he wanted me to wear. One was a leather vest, a leather jockstrap and leather chaps. The other was a rubber catsuit, a leather dog mask and leather mitts. I decided on the full leather look first. When I finished changing he took me in front of a full length mirror. We looked like a kinky gay couple. While I was mesmerized by my leather clad self Derrick stepped up flush against my back pushing his leather bulge between my cheeks.

"You're looking even more fuckable."

Truly at this point I didn't know what the fuck to feel. I clearly liked Derrick as a person and I definitely liked the current pressure on my hole.

"Thank you?"

"Why don't you try on the rubber option too, so you can make an educated decision."

To be honest I was quite intrigued so I threw caution to the wind and changed again. This time I needed his help to get everything on and when I was all dressed he told me to kneel so he could put on 'my collar' and take a picture. I felt safe behind the mask so I did as he asked.

"Good puppy. Now close those cute eyes for me I want to surprise you with the finishing touches."

Not going to lie I was horny as hell at this point so I just did as told. I heard Derrick open and close a drawer, walk back over to me and fiddle with my collar, cuffs and the back of my rubber suit. A couple of clicking sounds later he told me to open my eyes.

At first I didn't realise what had changed until I saw the locks dangling from my leather mitts. I was effectively locked in this outfit.

Before I could think to much about it Derrick asked me if I'd ever sucked a cock before. I told him that I hadn't. He proceeded to get a suction cup dildo out one of the closets in his bedroom and sticking it to the mirror 'so I could keep track of what I was doing'. He also unbuckled the dogmask and told me to start sucking it like I'd want my own cock to be sucked.

Since sucking another man's dick, real or otherwise, had never crossed my mind I hesitated. Derrick sensing my hesitation told me to close my eyes and start kissing it like I would kiss a girlfriend. I asked him if oral was really necessary to which he replied that he doesn't like using lube so the only way to lubricate his cock is with my own saliva.

So I started kissing the tip, the shaft, the balls and eventually took it in my mouth. Before long I felt Derrick's hand pushing my head further and further on the fake cock.

[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

There's Such a Sad Love (Deep in Your Eyes) - Chap 3

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Eddie’s gonna kill him.

Not even exaggerating, he’s gonna kill Steve dead.

How hard is it to wake the fuck up? His dumb flat phone has been ringing for the last three hours!

…Okay, fine.. Eddie doesn’t know exactly how long it’s been ringing, but when you’re used to head-achingly constant quiet, any interruption becomes a nuisance immediately.

“Hello?”

“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbles when Steve finally stirs enough to answer the phone.

“I’m sorry?” Steve says to the person on the other end of the line.

“I forgive you.” he grouses.

“No, no, I got that, but you were supposed to be here tomorrow, not today!” he struggles off the sagging air mattress and into his jeans, not even bothering to button them.

“Shit, shit, okay, yep, I’ll be here, I’ll—” His voice gets louder “Yes! Deliver! I’ll be here! Alright, bye.” 

He tosses the phone onto the sagging mattress and scrubs his face with his palms, mumbling “Stupid fucking phone signal..”

Eddie follows Steve out the bedroom door and down the stairs into the kitchen.

He smiles to himself when Steve stops in the doorway; He’d worked all night to get the damn cabinets open again.

“Good morning, Mr. Ghost… Ms. Ghost? Ghost Friend.” is what he finally lands on, unfreezing from the doorway and grabbing a can of something from the fridge.

Eddie breezes past him a bit too close, just barely brushing against him. Steve shudders against the chill. “I’m not sure if that’s a ‘Hello’ or a ‘Get the fuck out of here’.”

In response, Eddie pushes the sleep-mussed fringe of his bangs back off his forehead.

Steve smiles. “Hello...” Then he seems to remember something, “Oh, hey, the delivery guys are coming with my stuff soon.” He pauses a moment, “I’m guessing you’re gonna try something, but can you please not cause any injuries at least? I don’t want any more ghost-y roommates.”

“Aw man, but I do!” Eddie groans.

Steve tilts his head to listen to the quiet of the house for a few seconds, then calls out again. “Can you make some sort of noise so I know you aren’t gonna kill anyone?”

Eddie rolls his nonexistent eyes, “Sure, handsome, anything for you,” and knocks his knuckles on the open cabinet door beside Steve’s head.

Steve startles at the noise, “Jesus fuck! I’d also like to not die today, thanks.” he says, adding on a grumbled “Give me a damn heart attack, why don’tcha..” as he starts back toward the front of the house.

A laugh escapes him and Steve falters, stopping a couple steps away and turning back toward the kitchen.

If his word meant anything, he’d swear that Steve looks right at him.

His laughter stutters to a stop, and Steve shakes his head minutely as if to shake off a thought.

‘Did he hear me laughing?’

“....No, he couldn’t have, it’s way too early..” Eddie answers himself.

He watches until Steve’s out of sight, then floats through the hallway wall and into the closet under the stairs.

It’s one of Eddie’s favorite places in the house; small and quiet, and the place he feels most..solid (the most real?)..no matter what time of year it is. It gives him time to breathe, ironically, and no matter how untethered he might feel after Halloween, he feels like himself again here.

He’s done some long, complicated ciphering about why over the years, and he thinks the stairs and closet are positioned right over where his bedroom used to be in his and Wayne's trailer. He can get his thoughts together here, can think the clearest.

There's some commotion from outside his closet, so Eddie pops his head through the door to watch Steve and the moving company travel back and forth between the front door and the rest of the house.

Looks like he was in the closet longer than he thought (There’s definitely a gay joke here somewhere, Eddie thinks to himself), the hired team of movers are here and already carting in boxes and pieces of furniture.

Steve is helping the movers for some reason, carrying boxes further into the house, and Eddie finds his way back to the man’s side without even thinking about it.

Suddenly, Steve yells, “Nope! I have to do some work on the place, so everything but the bedframe and mattress can go in here!” in response to some question Eddie hadn’t heard. “The master is up the stairs, last door on the right. That one big dresser with the mirror can go there, too.”

“Hope you have some help lined up after they leave, pretty boy. You know I can’t help you.”

“I think I do, actually. Some kids already asked to help with the house anyway, so.”

“...What?”

“What?” one of the movers echoes.

Steve sets down the box he was carrying (‘clothes’ according to the large marker letters on one side) and turns back to the mover, confused. “I’ll have help to move it all again after I’m done with the remodels.”

“That’s..great man, good for you.” he says, equally confused.

Eddie’s frozen. “Okay, what the fuck.”

Steve can’t help but help the movers; he carries in some of the unimportant boxes, and grabs up the important ones he’d labeled when he packed up everything. Which was also something he couldn’t help but do even though the company he hired would pack and unpack his things as part of the cost anyway.

One of the five man team asks him about putting his furniture in their respective rooms, at least.

“Nope! I have to do some work on the place, so everything but the bedframe and mattress can go in here!” he calls back, carrying the couple of boxes of clothes in his arms into the foyer to the right of the front door, “The master is up the stairs, last door on the right. That one big dresser with the mirror can go there, too.” he calls over his shoulder

“Hope you have some help lined up after they leave, pretty boy. You know I can’t hel...”

Steve huffs in irritation, why are they trying to talk to him while walking away? “I think I do, actually. Some kids already asked to help with the house anyway, so.” he calls back to where the voice seemed to be retreating to.

“What?” the mover asks, sounding closer again.

Steve sets down the box of clothes he carried in, and turns back to the man who’s looking at him like he’s grown another head. “I’ll have help to move it all again after I’m done with the remodels.”

“That’s..great man, good for you.”

“You’re the one who asked..” Steve grumbles to himself when the guy walks back out to the truck.

There’s not much in the moving truck, so while the team is bringing in the larger pieces, he borrows one of them to help him empty his little trailer so he can take it back that afternoon.

The crew is done within the hour, and Steve sees them off, following them down the drive and turning to head into town. He stops in at the deli across from Melvald’s for lunch, and heads into the one internet provider’s office in town to set up his services (which was as easy as flipping the proverbial switch to turn them on, very nice), then heads to the hardware store because of course there wasn’t already a washer and dryer in the house.

Getting delivery scheduled for his new washer and dryer ends up taking forever, and it’s already late afternoon by time he’s done, so Steve heads back out to the big box store for groceries, heads home to eat Joyce's leftovers, showers, puts some sheets on his bed, then (finally) calls Robin..

“Finally got interwebs hooked up?” her forehead says in lieu of a ‘Hello?’ (that’s the only thing he can see on his screen at the moment).

“Yep, didn’t take too long, luckily, and good news for me: apparently the people who built this place decided to put in fiber cords? Which is really good I guess?” he says, flopping down onto his mattress on his stomach.

“Uh, yeah, that’s real good Dingus; Fiber is still one of the better things for internet connections, so congrats! You lucked out.”

“Then the guy at the hardware store took forever to schedule my laundry shit to be delivered, so I’m out a washer and dryer until next week. Yay.” he deadpans to her forehead (still the only thing he can see).

“But you’re settled in better now, right? At least now you can get started on that DIY board you’ve been hoarding onto since you first saw the place.”

“That's true, that’s true,” he concedes, swapping his video call app out for the one that holds all his inspiration boards, “This place is going to be amazing once I’m done with it.”

“I thought you already thought it was amazing.”

“No, no, it is..it’s just..” he pauses, scrolling down the hundreds of ideas he’d saved for just this moment…all of them not quite right. Even the simplest color palettes he’d liked look drab and boring when he thinks about actually using any of them on the house.

“None of it fits anymore, does it.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, “None! How is that even possible? What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“What indeed..how in the world are you supposed to start changing things if you don’t even know what color paint your ghost roomie likes? What if they start haunting you even more after you paint the dining room sage instead of mustard??”

“Right?! He likes metal music for fucks sake, I can’t paint my whole house red and black or whatever just so he doesn’t haunt the fuck outta me!”

Robin’s silent for a moment, then “Wait, backup. One, how do you know he likes metal music, and two, ‘he’? How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

“Oh my god! So much has happened, listen,” Steve explains everything to her, shifting onto his back as he does.

He tells her about the kids (“You better take them up on the offer, Dingus, that’s a lot of help.”), the girl Max who said “He likes metal music.”, the way his speaker turned down on its own when he asked ‘Jeeves’ to, the damn acknowledging knock he’d heard when Steve asked the entity not to hurt any of the movers as they brought in all his stuff.. All of it.

“I even heard a laugh, Robin. A goddamn laugh! It’s definitely a ghost.”

“Okay. Yep. That’s it, I’m never coming to visit. Mm-mph. Nope. No way.”

“Oh yeah, and the Hawkins Chief of Police said it might be a murderer!”

“Ah! What?! Steve. Steven. Steeb. You need to move. Pack up all your shit and get the fuck back here.”

He only partially heard her; Now he’s focusing on trying to look up any murders here in Hawkins over the years.

“Are you listening to me, Dingus?”

“Huh–yeah, yeah of course I am.”

“No you’re not, I can see you thinking.” Steve hears her type something into her phone. “The Creel murders, a death by rabid dog, death to cancer…”

“Are you reading the same things I am?”

“...No?”

“Uh huh, sure–ah ha! Listen, listen, listen,” Steve exclaims, sitting up and crossing his legs in the middle of his bed. “‘Hawkins High cheerleader, 18, found deceased at Forest Hills trailer park. Authorities say she was found by a resident of the park along with another body late on the night of the 31st. There is no further information at this time.’.”

“....Holy shit..holy shit..Ah! Okay, I found some more, Halloween, 1986... Uh….” she trails off, mumbling along as she reads. “This one says it’s called the ‘Forest Hills Murder’, and that there was, quote, ‘one suspect, two bodies, and conviction for one count of second degree murder.’.”

“Second degree?”

“Means that it wasn’t planned beforehand.”

Steve hums in understanding, continuing to scroll. “Why are there no names! I want to know who my ghost is, dammit!”

“Maybe…you should go to the library? Does Hawkins have a library? Maybe they’ll have old papers or something.”

“Yeah, it’s basically smack dab in the center of town....Do you think I should go to the library?”

“I think you should go to the library.”

That night, Steve once again dreams of that vast black place. He opens his eyes to it, and instead of being scared like last time, he’s somehow…comforted by it. 

The loud splash of water that comes from his right, however, makes him jump.

“Hi!” the girl with the ponytail says, bouncing to a stop in front of him.

“Uh, hi? I saw you last time, I think…Who are you?”

“I’m Chrissy!” she grins, her smile bright yet slightly crooked.

“Hi Chrissy, I’m Steve, uhm…what the hell is going on? Why are you in my dream?”

“I assume it’s because I died at Forest Hills.” She shrugs, as if it was the most benign news in the world.

Steve blinks at her in the darkness, takes in her uniform– “Oh my god, you’re the cheerleader who died! Are you–are you my ghost?” It’d be a surprise if Chrissy was a metal fan, but who’s he to judge? Maybe Max got the ghosts’ pronouns wrong? 

Chrissy waves him off with a laugh, “Oh, no, I’m not,”

“Wait, are they the one who killed you? I better not be living with a murderer ghost..”

She looks appalled at that, “Absolutely not! Where on earth did you even get that idea?”

“I’ve only read a little bit about the–your case so far, and all it said was that there were two bodies.” Steve scratches at the back of his neck nervously. What kind of protocol is there for talking to a dead girl about her death? “Rumor has it that the second one was the person who killed you. That your boyfriend killed him right after…?”

The cheerleader is silent, gazing at him sadly. 

“His name is Eddie.”

There’s a pull in Steve’s gut at the name. 

“Who’s name, your murderer? Your boyfriend?” She’s fading into the darkness that surrounds them, and Steve knows he must be waking up. “Please, tell me!”

Chrissy’s mouth moves, but Steve’s already falling out of his dream.

Groggily, he reaches for his phone, 6:04am. 

He huffs as he flops back against his pillows, but freezes in the next moment.

Out the door to his bedroom from where he’s laying, he can see part way down the hall and the last half of the staircase where it comes up to the second floor.

And what he sees glide up the steps onto the landing out of sight is what freezes him to his spot.

It was barely there, but there nonetheless. A shadow, just dark enough to be seen in the low light of the morning, the dark of it standing out against the pale cream of the wall next to the steps.

His heart hammers in his chest, his brain screaming ‘Holy shit, holy shit, he IS real, oh my god there’s a real life ghost in my house.’ at him (Wait, duh. You already knew this?? You heard the speaker lower on its own, you felt that cold breeze, heard that laugh?? He thinks, his thoughts rambling on without him.) when the shadow reappears, drifting into view in his doorway and it itself freezing under Steve’s gaze.

The shadow is still only just barely visible; not freakishly tall, Steve figures it’s about his own height, actually, and the edges of it flicker and move.

Heart still pounding, Steve speaks, his voice coming out in barely a whisper. “Eddie?”

As soon as the name is out of his mouth, the shadow disappears, looking both like it was swept away by an invisible breeze, and as if it dropped straight into the floor.

“Holy shit!”

After throwing together a whole two pieces of toast for breakfast, and leaving the strips of color he thought to pick up while at the hardware store out for his roommate with a note, Steve takes himself and the name Eddie with him to Hawkins Public Library.

His hopes of scouring old newspapers and records seem at least ten times more likely when he steps over the threshold and immediately feels like sneezing at the smell of the dusty old books around him.

He steps up to the front counter, “Good morning Mrs….” Steve leans in closer to read her name tag; ‘Claudia Henderson - she/her!’ is printed onto the plastic tag in permanent marker and punctuated with a fading yellow smiley face sticker “…Henderson—Henderson? Why does that sound familiar?”

“I’m not sure, hon–”

“HEY MOM!”

They both startle at the sudden yell, turning towards the noise; Dustin, that kid with the cap that had harassed him on his driveway yesterday, is running towards the front counter. 

‘Ah. Henderson.’

Mrs. Henderson tsks at her son, “Dustybuns, this is a library! Use your inside voice.” 

“Where’s th–Steve!”

Steve smiles at the kid, “Hey bud,”

“What’re you doing here?” he questions, then his face brightens exponentially. “Are you looking for stuff about ghosts?”

“Dusty, you know better than to ask that,” she chides, “What people are looking for at the library is no one’s business but their own.”

Dustin, however, chooses to ignore this. “It’s ghosts, isn’t it? Hang on, I know of a couple books that might help you!” 

Both Steve and Claudia attempt to stop him, “Dusty, wait—!”, “No, I’m oka—”, but Dustin’s already disappearing between two tall shelves.

“Damn, he’s quick.”

Claudia sighs, “I’m sorry about him, hon, he just gets super excited about whatever thing he’s fixated on at the moment.”

“It’s alright, Ms. Henderson, I know he means well.” Steve says with a smile.

“Well, let’s get you settled then, you need a library card, I assume?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She gets him set up with a card (‘Harrington? Oh, you must be Patty’s grandson! Oh, I’ve heard so much about you; your gran and I were in the same knitting club, you know.”), then points out an empty table by one of the front windows he can use if he’d like. Where each section is, what their return policy is and about the book reserve program, then finishes with a warm “Let me know if you need any help, Steve dear.”

“Actually, can you tell me where you keep your newspapers?”

She hmms thoughtfully for a moment, “Well, that depends on if you want the actual papers, or if you would like to scroll through them on the microfilm…what are you looking for, exactly?”

“I’m looking for information on the house I just bought? I’ve been told there was a death on the property previously and I wanted to look into it if I could. Library seemed like the best bet.”

“Oh, that’s just terrible! Sure, hon, let's get you set up at one of our machines and you can scroll through whatever year you’re looking for,” she beckons him to follow to another long row of desks. There are a couple other people with name tags like Claudia’s sitting at the computers behind it. “Do you have a timeframe?”

“Mid-80s I think?”

“Let me see what I can find for you,” Claudia nods, sitting down at a large white machine.

She shows him how to operate the clunky device, then disappears through a ‘Staff Only’ door.

Steve’s alone at the machine for five whole seconds before Dustin finds him.

“There you are! Okay, here, these are my favorites on the subject,” he hands him a small stack of books with mostly dark covers, one even has a lenticular image of a fanged skull, “These are a couple that are more fanatical,” two more are added to the pile, “and these two are more scientific in nature.”

He keeps ahold of the last two, stepping to the side to reach for and slide a chair from another machine next to Steve’s. “Are they a poltergeist too?  Are you trying to get rid of them? If so, I’ll need to pull some material on exorcisms too. Do you know why they would be sticking around? We need to figure out what their unfinished business might b—”

“Dustin! Dude!” Steve cuts him off with a laugh, “What happened to “Hey Steve.”, “Didja get unpacked already?”, “How’re your projects coming along, Steve?”...I just got here, my guy, lemme breathe for a second.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, “Did you figure out what colors your ghost likes?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “No, not yet. I put some out for him, so we’ll see if he decides to get rid of any.”

Claudia returns then, “Okay, here you are, sweetheart—Dusty! What’d I tell you about bothering Steve!”

“I’m not bothering him!” Dustin complains at the same time Steve says, “It’s been non-stop.”

The kid shoves at Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, shut up!”

He mimes nearly falling off his chair, “Do you see this, Ms. Henderson? I am being harassed in a public library.” he manages to say before breaking out into a grin.

“Shut up, asshole!” Dustin laughs.

“You shut up, buttface.”

“Okay, okay, settle down you two, Now Steve, do you have anywhere we can start? A date?” Claudia asks, loading up the first film in her small stack.

“I have one,” Steve nods, giving Dustin a final playful shove and reaching into his back pocket. “This article I found about the trailer park that used to be there?” He shows her his phone, open to the article from last night.

She scans it, then nods, scrolling on through the first film. “I say we check obituaries first, see if anyone sticks out? Then we can try birth announcements.”

“Would they have had an announcement printed if he was a murderer though?”

She looks at her son curiously.

“What?”

“Dustin is convinced there is a ghost on the property from the death there,” Steve explains as if he doesn’t already believe it himself, “And apparently the stories of the place include a possible murderer.”

“That’s why we need to figure out who it was so we can get him outta Steve’s house!”

“Well…” she gives them both another odd look, “Everybody has someone; this person’s someone may have had them printed as well.”

The first film ends up being the one they needed, for Chrissy at least.

“Here’s your cheerleader, Steve.” Claudia gestures to the machine’s screen. Half the front page of the Hawkins Post from November 1st, 1986 is dedicated to her. 

The crooked smile, the bangs, the ponytail. “That’s her alright. It’s gotta be.”

Dustin squished in from Steve’s left to read the tiny text. “‘Chrissy Cunningham, 18, was found dead early this morning by local 440 chapter president Wayne Munson at his home in the Forest Hills mobile home park.”

“‘Wayne Munson.’, Who’s Wayne Munson?”

“Not sure, but he’s involved somehow. Write that down.”

“‘Police say they have one of two suspects in custody, the other was found dead alongside Ms. Cunningham.’.”

“That’s gotta be the ones, remember? She died and the boyfriend found the guy right after!”

From there, it’s easy to find the information for one Jason Carver.

“Is he the guy?” Dustin squints closer at the small yearbook picture. “Wait, if he’s the boyfriend, then he’s the murderer! Then who’s this other guy…?”

“What about Eddie, is there anything about anyone with that name?” Both Hendersons give Steve curious looks, “I was given that name from…a reliable source.” Very reliable. 

“Why don’t we go back to that Wayne fella,” Claudia says, standing from the machine to move behind a computer nearby. “If it was his trailer she was found in, maybe the other person has something to do with him?”

She clicks into her computer and starts to type at an alarming rate.

Steve glances over to Dustin, who’s wearing a bewildered look. He turns around in his chair, “Thanks for helping with this, Ms. Henderson.”

“Yeah mom, I didn’t know you would be this interested in something like this.”

“Oh pshh,” she scoffs, “Who doesn’t love a good mystery? Now, read off that last name again?”

“Munson, M-U-N-S-O-N.”

“Let’s see…says here that Wayne was President of our Local 440 branch until…oh, 1986.”

“What’s that?” Steve and Dustin ask in tandem.

“The 440 is the local union! Some of those guys come through here twice a month for their book club.”

Steve takes the name to his phone, typing in ‘wayne munson + indiana’. “‘New UA President Elected!’, obituary, oh! There’s a birth here…and it has a paywall.”

Claudia rolls her eyes and mutters a low “Of course,” then louder, “Let's find it here then, what’s the date?”

He gives her the date, a Friday in mid June 1966, and she sets up the corresponding microfilm roll, scrolling into the birth announcements.

“Ah, here it is: ‘Beloved former Miss Indiana and Hawkins native Elizabeth Munson (ne’ Johnson) and husband Albert Munson welcomed a bouncing baby boy to the world this past Saturday. ‘I am just plumb overjoyed,’ Wayne Munson, Al’s older brother and well-known face of Hawkins’ local branch of UA 440 said Saturday evening. Both mother and little Theodore Munson are happy and healthy after their short hospital stay.’. That’s just lovely, I didn’t know Hawkins had a Miss Indiana!” 

“But that’s Theodore though, not Eddie. Did she have any other kids?”

“Uhhh..” Steve draws out, typing ‘elizabeth munson miss indiana’ into his phone. “No, just the one son apparently..” He reads further, “Says she died in 1974 due to ovarian cancer.”

“Damn.”

“Poor Teddy..”

“Teddy?”

“Well sure, short for Theodore?” Claudia tsks sympathetically, “He was so young when she died..”

“Poor kid, I can’t imagine.”

“Wait! Teddy, Eddie!”

“Huh?”

“I dunno, maybe that’s your connection? Theodore to Teddy to Eddie. Maybe Wayne’s nephew is your Eddie?”

It took some more searching, but Dustin was right on the money; Steve finds the first mention of both names in a 1982 Hawkins High yearbook under a black and white picture of five teens in the book’s club section.

“‘Theodore “Eddie” Munson (far left), leader of Hawkins High’s newest club, Hellfire, with fellow sophomores Ronnie Ecker, Jeff Monroe, Frank Zuiwiski, and freshman Gareth Emerson.’.” Steve reads off. “‘The tabletop, pen-and-paper game Dungeons and Dragons (“D&D?” Dustin yells, attempting to pull the book from his hands, making Steve twist around in his chair to avoid him.) is the club’s main focus and is largely math based.’.”

Dustin pulls the yearbook from Steve’s hands as soon as he’s finished reading. “How did I not know Hawkins had a D&D club?!”

“Oh my god, my ghost is a nerd.”

“What the fuck?? What the fuck??”

Eddie had not expected Steve to be awake when he drifted upstairs that morning. Nor did he have any inkling that the man would whisper out a trembling “Eddie?” when he arrived at his door.

It’s only March, how in the hell can Steve even see him?

He sounded so scared too… damn it!  He only just got here and now Eddie’s gone and ruined everything.

Instead of bright sparkling happiness or burning hot rage, a deadening, sinking, cold melancholy seeps into his core. The dreadful feeling sinks him further down into the house, all the way to, and into, the floor of his closet under the stairs.

Eddie stays hidden away while Steve shuffles around that morning and for two mornings after that. He’s aware of the living man’s movements through the creaks of the floorboards and hinges as he goes about his day each day, unpacking boxes and accidentally cutting his finger, shocking himself when he sets up his fancy-ass TV in the master bedroom, listens when he sings along to the Spoofy he’s been playing for Eddie and some of his own modern-sounding songs.

But Eddie doesn't make an appearance.

For three days, he wallows, alone.

Late into the night of the second day, well, early in the morning on the third, technically, the Moon reaches to him, asks him what is wrong.

It’s still dark outside, the sky just beginning to lighten, when he leaves his confines and breezes out onto the back balcony.

He notices belatedly that were are boxes and dropcloths littered around the great room as he passed through it; seems like Steve had been busy.

Again, the moon reaches softly to him, What are you afraid of? her soft hold on him asks, the encouragement bleeding through her glow over him evident.

“My heart may be dead and gone, but that doesn’t mean I want it broken.”

He regrets his words immediately, her amusement at his slip up skitters all along the planks of Steve’s balcony.

“Nononono no, not like that, he doesn’t–I don’t–He just…” why is he trying to lie to her? “Okay, so what if I have a big fat crush on him? ‘Ooh everyone look the lovesick dead guy’,” he mocks. “It’s not like jack shit can happen, so what if I do? It’s only a stupid crush anyway.”

Eddie listens to the sounds of the night as the sky lightens a couple shades more, the Moon’s continued amusement apparent to none but him.

Her jovial mood dies off after a shade or so more, then turns questioning once again, though tired, apparent from her low seat in the sky.

Eddie’s gut twists, “He could see me…Why can he see me already?”

The confusion persists, a new drop of encouragement comes and goes.

“I’m sure I scared him with the…” he gestures to the wispy all of him, “I don’t want to freak him out more…”

She grows exasperated with him; Eddie can picture his late Uncle’s good-natured eye roll and practically hear the fond tongue-click behind her new irritation.

“What? What’d I say?”

The Moon all but bowls him over with one more blast of encouragement before she disappears behind the trees and under her sister’s glow.

Eddie huffs out a sigh. Message received…

Eventually, later in the morning, the stairs above him creak with Steve’s weight, and Eddie listens to him hum as he passes outside his door toward the kitchen.

He’s there for a little bit, probably eating something? Then the sound of Dio filters down the hall to him. 

Steve started the Spoofy for him again.

Soon after, the door into the garage opens and closes, and only after the garage door itself shudders to a stop, does Eddie leave his spot.

He wanders the house, taking in everything Steve had moved, or even torn off in his absence (“That wallpaper really was horrible, good on ya Steve.”), but eventually ends up back in the kitchen, thinking this time he’ll open a couple drawers for Steve instead of his usual cupboard fuckery, show him he’s back in action in a “Didja miss me?” type way, but stops short when he notices something laid out on the counter beside the speaker.

Color swatches. 

There’s a couple shades of green, some blues, a deep red, and even a bright sunshine yellow laid out with a slip of lined paper.

Eddie eases forward, clipping into the countertop as he does, to read the note.

He stares dumbly at it for what feels like weeks.

Steve wants to know what he thinks? What Eddie would pick? Why? This is Steve’s house, why does his opinion matter?

‘It’s because he likes you.’ his not-actually-there brain tells him

“No the fuck he doesn’t, I’m dead. A ghost. I’m a nuisance at best.”

‘He knew your name.’

That happy sparking feeling returns, shooting through where his heart would be.

“He knew my name.”

Bright yellow flashes in his chest briefly. 

How did Steve figure that one out?

‘He said your name.’ he thinks to himself, then the sound of Steve saying his name starts to cycle across his thoughts.

“Eddie?”, “Eddie?”, “Eddie?”, “Eddie?”....over and over again until it stops sounding like a real word.

“Eddie.” Steve says, his tone no longer questioning, but welcoming.

“Eddie.” Steve’s smiling this time.

“Eddie..” Steve’s happy to see him.

It takes him a handful of minutes each time, but he manages to flip over about half of the colors Steve had laid out.

“I must be outta my mind,” Eddie grumbles, glowing bright in the middle of the kitchen.

It took three days for Eddie to tell Steve what colors he doesn’t like. 

He left the swatches alone until something was done to them but eventually, on the morning of the third day since he’d put them out (after more decisions about where he’d use each if they weren’t vetoed, deciding which room he’d tackle first (the kitchen), and getting the rest of his furniture and TV situated in his room), Steve comes downstairs to find three of the blue shades and one each of the green, red, and grays flipped over on the countertop.

He smiles down at them as he eats his bowl of cereal; he’s not sure where his ghostly roommate is right now, so he sets down his bowl, fishes a pen out of his junk drawer, and adds a line to his note

<- prev | next ->

i can't believe i didn't do this on the first part, but tagging everyone who was interested in reading the whole fic from my first post w this concept!! (i think some of you already found pt 1 though!!): @gothwifehotchner @puppy-steve @babydollbaron @a-bun-danceoflove @after-the-end-times @mightbeasleep @shapeofaperson @val-from-lawrence @madigoround @steviebats @nburkhardt @scoops-stevie @kas-eddie-munson @i-less-than-threee-you @milf-harrington @khalesprix @matchingbatbites

and also tagging those interested on the last part <3: @little-birch-boy

[cheeseplants]

Fic: The Apple Doesn't Fall Far Chap 2 & 3

I posted Chap 2 on Wed, but in case you missed it - here is 2 & 3.

Crowley is off to make some trouble in tge village of Whickber, and Aziraphale does not know what to do when a tall dark attractive man marches into his bookshop. Not that he is looking at him like that.

Read Chap 2

Read Chap 3

Start here

Excerpt from Chap 3

He couldn’t help his eyes flicking from one piece to the next, wondering what kind of person collects all this until his eyes landed on a blonde man hidden behind an ancient Globe that probably still showed several countries that no longer existed.

The man was reading, and didn’t even flinch when Crowley walked towards the counter at the front of the shop. He was wearing a faded cardigan, a tartan bowtie, and his hair was a shock of white blonde that beamed brightly against the dark mahogany of the bookshelves. He seemed utterly still, with a pair of hornrimmed glasses on his head, absorbed thoroughly in a book, with a pile of others next to him. 

Aziraphale’s aesthetic appeared to have not changed in the last 200 years, despite the fact he was clearly around the same age as Crowley. One of those eccentric types who pretends they are from another age. He walked up to the till, and jammed his finger on a bell on the counter.

Aziraphale didn’t budge, barely looking up from his book. Crowley jammed it harder, and peered around the corner to see if there was any movement, still nothing.

Finally, he slammed his hand down with a piercing ring and yelled “Oi, you.” 

Aziraphale startled, peering up to meet Crowley’s gaze, he sighed, taking his time to put in a bookmark and placing the book he was reading carefully on a side table next to him. He stood up, and patted the tops of his cream-coloured slacks, before walking towards the counter. 

Crowley saw him properly now, and had to admit, there was something rather charming about him. The way his light blonde curls flickered under the warm lights of the bookshop, his back romrod straight and his hands clapsed in front of his soft stomach. Aziraphale was a long way from the type of people Crowley hung around with in London, and an even longer way from his family that were scattered around these parts. 

It was as if he had fallen directly out of a Charles Dickens novel, and looking around Crowley thought that he couldn’t imagine him looking any different in this setting. In fact, Crowley started to wonder how out of place he looked here in his sleek black jeans and spiked red hair. His mind went back to his cousin Beez, who he could never imagine stepping foot into a place like this.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel this bookshop gave off a similar sense of those teenage memories he had of the cottage. Rustic, old, comforting, like being wrapped in a large blanket and being handed a cup of cocoa. 

“Yes?” Aziraphale stood in front of him, his shoulders stiff. 

“If it isn't Aziraphale,” Crowley said, ignoring the rumble that staring directly into Aziraphale’s sharp blue or was it green eyes seem to cause, probably those six shots of expresso.

“And you are?” Aziraphale’s eyes darted towards the door.

“Crowley, ‘member? I phoned you about the cottage.”

“Oh, Mr. Crowley, yes,” Aziraphale said slowly, shifting his feet slightly, as if he was desperate to bolt at any moment.

“Just Crowley.” He leaned forward on the counter and Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Look. I guess you know why I’m here.”

Aziraphale stared at him. “I am afraid I have absolutely no idea.”

“I was thinking that you might know something about these plans to knock down my aunt’s… my cottage.” 

“What makes you think that?” Aziraphale’s body tensed, and his knuckles whitened, dents forming in the curve of where he fingers dug into the skin of his hands. 

“You’re on the Council, aren’t you? Surely it is part of your civic duty to share what you know with interested residents?”

“Resident? You moved here?”

“Well, it was your idea.” Crowley smirked. 

“It was nothing of the sort,” Aziraphale’s voice raised, and then he lowered it again. “I do hope you are not going to involve me in any of your ideas, whatever they are.”

“Ideas? Who said anything about ideas? I am merely a resident enjoying living in a run-down cottage, which so happens to be in the way of some awful office complex that personally I don’t think you are a fan of.”

The silence between them was deafening.

“I…” Aziraphale shifted again, “What makes you say that?”

“Call it a hunch,” Crowley said. He was beginning to enjoy watching this man squirm on his feet, it was frankly adorable. He blinked and watched Aziraphale’s bright blue-green eyes looking up at him. “Ngk. Erm. So come on? What the Hell is going on?”

“It’s an office building project. We’re encouraging new businesses to the area.”  Aziraphale’s voice was flat.

“You sound so thrilled.”

“I told you, I don’t have to agree with the plans to go forward with them.”

“I see.”

“I am not helping you.”

“Fine, I’ll find another way.”

“Fine.” 

“Nice bookshop by the way.”

“Oh… thank you.”

Thanks as always to @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon & @happynachohologram for the beta!

@goodomensafterdark

[egophiliac]

Hello!! I'm in love with your artstyle (especially the way you did the signature spells??? I've been looking at them for a while adsgfdfsf, they look like movie posters tbh and that's fricking cool to me. anyway!! I'm a player on the NA server (btw, I've already seen spoilers of chap 7 due to tumblr/reddit/pinterest, so yeah it's not the most spoiled I've ever been so yea) and yeah. I'm getting through the story okay but do you have any advice for people trying to get through certain events with a more limited life schedule??? Also, what are some of the differences that you notice between the english (if you see a lot of it??) and Japanese versions of the game? sorry if this was a longer ask, i tried to be simple but i wanted to tell you that I loved your art and everything just spiraled AAAAAAH

thank you! ❤️❤️❤️ I've been surprised by how many people really like my posters -- it's kind of a weird style to do fanart in, I guess, but I'm glad other people think it's cool too! :D

(gonna answer out of order because the event stuff turned into a huge block of text, sorry!)

I've seen a few of the localizations, but I don't know a lot about the Eng version, so I can't speak too much about differences. (I do think "housewarden" has a better sound to it than "dorm leader" though...they need a fancy little word to match their fancy little outfits.) I did look up the unique magic/signature spells to see if they were able to somehow work in the glossing -- I'm not even sure how you would localize that without it being super weird, so I don't blame them, but I was a little sad anyway! :( in Japanese, they're all written as Japanese phrases with the English as ruby text, and sometimes they're given a little extra meaning. like -- this is where the episode 7 spoilers I'm tagging are) the words that Mal says are "Fae of Maleficence":

but the meaning of the Japanese is "Blessing", which is a nice little "ooooh" moment given the context of it!

there isn't always an extra meaning, sometimes it's just. super literal. but my other favorite is Jack's, where what he means is "✨howl that pierces the moonlit night✨", but what he actually yells is "UNLEASH BEAST" before turning into a giant dog. what a good boy.

as for event advice (under the cut, because this was already getting long)...

speaking as someone who is 100% F2P and therefore also tends to get kind of burnt by some of these events -- the #1 most important thing is to just...make peace with not getting everyone. :') I am a collector-type person, so it definitely gets grating when I can't have all the fancy PNGs my little packrat heart desires. generally though: never do random pulls, always be saving your keys and gems between events. (once a month you can buy a 10-set from Sam for a 50 gem discount, and logging in on a character's birthday will give you a 10-set for free, so make sure to do those!). when the event info starts coming out, pick one or two cards that you really want and work specifically towards those, focusing on grinding out the items and/or using your saved-up pulls on their specific banner. and in the end, accept that it might just not be meant to be, even if you hit the 100-pull pity SSR no I'm not still bitter over fairy gala Ortho why do you ask. if the event doesn't have any cards that you really want, take it as an opportunity to save for the next one!

hoard your star fragments (the things that restore AP) -- if you're going for a card that requires grinding event items to permanently unlock, and the item is one you get from lessons, you can use star fragments to bump your AP up to 30 at a time (10 is the limit that will restore over time, but 30 is the max you can have at once). that makes for a looong lesson loop, but I usually get about 50-60 items per 30 lessons, and I just let it run in the background while doing other stuff. (usually these items are what also unlock the event story, so I'll do a huge amount of lessons first thing and then have enough to get the whole story at once. 👍) it can get really grindy, but events go on for a while so it's not usually that bad if you space it out a bit, instead of waiting until the last minute to try and get those last 600 items (cough) (cough).

if it's one of the ones where you get the item from doing a rhythmic, you get the same amount of items no matter how well you do, even if you miss every note. so you can just...tap occasionally to restart it and get the same effect. if it's a battle one, you do have to actually win to get the item, but once you figure out the sweet spot of a team setup + highest battle level where you win every time, it becomes basically the same deal.

so...yeah, tl;dr you can get away with a lot just by setting things up to run in the background and paying just enough attention to tap through some of the menus. it does require a certain amount of time to just leave your phone while still sorta-kinda paying attention to it, so it might not work for everyone, but that's the best way I've found to get through most events!

[woodenplank-gt]

The Blizzard

Second part of my story!

CW: blood and minor character death

3K words

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Sage zipped through the trees, quickly dodging barren branches as she made her way to the border. She looked up at the clouds darkening above her. Great, looks like there's a storm coming. Guess the gods decided I didn't have enough to worry about she bitterly thought. Luckily, her uniform blocked out most of the cold air, but it didn't stop the fairy from shivering. She didn't even want to think about what would happen to her wings if they froze during the blizzard, all the more reason to get back to The Hollow quickly.

Once the border by the river was in view, Sage flew up to the top of a tree and gracefully landed on a small branch. Crouching down, she began taking in her surroundings; the river was a frozen sheet of blue ice, snow covered all of the greenery, gray clouds continued to form above her, but most importantly: no signs of sprites. The same results as the last borders she checked.

She smiled to herself, why didn't Rod think she could handle this, all she had to do was fly and look at the pretty scenery. Since the sun was hiding behind the clouds, she could only guess that an hour has passed, which gave her plenty of time before noon. Easy. As if on cue, a heavy gust of wind threatened to knock the little fairy out of the tree, forcing her to hang on for dear life.

"Sorry sorry," she grumbled as she hoisted herself back onto the branch,"I forgot I can't enjoy my job."

Sage decided to take this as a sign and moved towards a different section of the border. However, her journey was no longer smooth flying as she fought against the bitter wind, which was suddenly blowing a lot harder than before. Her cheeks and nose began to sting from the cold air. The storm was coming in a lot faster than she anticipated.

Sage quickly flew down and found refuge on a branch shielding her from the wind, pressing her back against the trunk in an attempt to protect her wings from the biting temperature. Shit, it's way too cold to be out here, she thought as she rubbed her gloved hands together. However, she perked up when she realized the sprites wouldn't dare try an attack out in this weather. She could just fly home and help prepare the kingdom for the oncoming storm.

As Sage fought her way back to The Hollow, she saw a green and red feathered hummingbird standing on the powdery white ground. Of course she had to check it out and make sure everything was alright, so she landed by the bird and found it's pilot a few feet away in a ditch, too fixated on the ground to notice the new company.

Sage walked over and tapped the man's blue shoulder pads,"Is everything alright?"

The man screamed and jumped clean into the air as he was pushed back into reality by the sudden touch,"Com-Commander Burton!" He brushed snow off his pants as he stood up and delivered a salute. His tan face had splotches of pink from the cold, and his blond hair was barely visible under all of the snowflakes settling on his hair. The poor guy's chapped lips were trembling uncontrollably and his face held a terrified expression. Sage didn't think she was THAT scary.

"Whoa, easy there soldier," she raised both her hands to show he wasn't in trouble,"I just want to know if everything is alright, what's your name?"

The man's shoulders relaxed a bit,"My n-name is Zave Carwell, ma'am." He managed to say through chattering teeth.

Her frozen lips cracked into a smile,"Alright Zave, let's start heading back home." She said as she took his arm and began leading him back to his bird.

"W-wait Commander!" He exclaimed and dug his feet into the snow. At her questioning look, he continued,"I can't leave yet. I found s-something."

"What did you find?"

Zave simply motioned to the ditch they were standing in,"I-I think you should just see for yours-self, ma'am."

Not wanting to question the poor guy anymore, Sage promptly flew straight into the air, battling against the wind to stay hovering over Zave. She had to clean off her goggles while she stared  down at a very faint Zave as the white snowy air tried to hide him from sight. Her orange eyes narrowed as she looked at the man, not seeing what he was gesturing about.

Then her heart fell to the ground with a loud splat. Just when she thought her luck couldn't get any worse, it proceeded to plummet into the negatives. The ditch her and Zave were standing in was not a ditch at all... it was a giant footprint accompanied by large animal prints beside it. And there were a lot more heading in the direction of.... shit.

Sage bolted down to Zave as fast as she could, face stinging from the mixture of speed and freezing air. She almost crashed into Zave as she skidded to a halt, shooting up snow from her feet.

His eyes filled with even more terror at her haste,"Then it's really a-" he put his hands on his head as if trying to stop it from spinning,"I-I thought I was s-seeing things..."

Through his goggles, the man's eyes started to lose their focus, lost in his own train of thought. But now was not the time. Sage grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. "Zave! I need you to stay with me,"she said sternly. He nodded and she continued,"Listen. I need you to go and warn The Hollow that a human is heading their way. Can you do that?" He briskly nodded again and sprinted to his bird.

"W-wait Commander! You're a fairy! You'll g-get there a lot faster than me!" He crossed his arms as the cold wind blew even harder.

Under normal circumstances he would be right, but the cold was really messing up her wings. Sage can hear them screaming at her to find warmth, threatening to snap under the temperatures freezing bite. She sighed,"My wings aren't made for this weather. I won't make it in time, but you can, so get going."

With that, the soldier jumped onto his saddle and blurred past her, kicking up snow as his bird raced towards home. As he disappeared into the falling snow, Sage looked at the footprint she was standing in. The thing was ginormous. She shuddered at the thought that a living thing could be that big. She remembered that more giant footprints loomed in front of her and painfully fluttered her wings to follow them. If the giant wasn't heading towards The Hollow, then she needed to find out where it went.

-----

She wasn't sure how long she has been following the footprints, her best guess was at least an half-an-hour. Her wings felt stiff as she slowly flew after the giant human, or at least trying to. The fairy was barley able to see a few feet in front of her, and she could no longer feel any part of her body as the freezing air seeped into her uniform. While the blizzard raged on, the large footprints were beginning to disappear, she'll be trapped with no sense of direction if she didn't pick up the pace, though her body simply refused to.

Sage let out a puff of cold air, she hoped Zave had better luck than her, he probably made it home already...if there was still a home to go back too. She shook her head, Gods, I should have never accepted this mission. Looks like I a owe Rod a huge apology, the thought of Rod forced a smile out of her frozen lips. She could picture him lecturing her when she returned to The Hollow, followed by a warm hug thanking the gods she was safe.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp stinging sensation in her arm, causing her to plummet to the ground in shock. She landed in the fluffy powder in a heap. Sage quickly recovered and lightly touched her arm. Warm blood was slowly seeping out of the fresh cut. Sage rose to her feet and turned around to see three sprites standing a few feet from her.

She couldn't see their normal sickly green skin or spiky hair as they wore thick fur jackets along with hoods, goggles, face masks, gloves, and pretty much everything else needed to stay warm. She found that she couldn't see any of their light purple wings, and figured they had them safely tucked in their jackets from the cold. Sage almost felt jealous, almost. She would rather freeze to death than be a stupid sprite. Knowing that people actually thought fairies and sprites were the same made her blood boil. Even from a distance, she could see the pale yellow hue illuminating off of them, easily revealing their positions though the thick snow.

"What the hell do you want!" Sage yelled, resting her hand on the frozen hilt of her sheathed sword.

The sprite in the middle laughed mockingly,"There's a fairy standing right in front of us, that's not a sight you see everyday," the female stepped closer, the two other sprites followed closely behind,"What do you think we want, filth?"

Sage's eyes narrowed. A bounty must have been placed on her head and these fools were looking for some money. Typical sprite behavior.

Sage smirked,"Well if you wanted to die you could have just said so."

The female sprite reached behind her back and pulled out an axe, her friend on the left revealed two knives while the other sprite aimed a bow and arrow. The female motioned to her friends,"lets be honest, the one dying here today is you."

The sprite with the double knives quickly leaped forward, lunging at Sage. She dodged to the left when the sprite landed and started sloppily thrashing the weapons around. Sage quickly drew her sword and stabbed the sprite right in the gut. The sprite stood there for a moment before collapsing onto the ground in a bloody heap.

As she drew her sword out of the body, Sage looked up at the motionless yellow hue, barely visible a few feet in front of her,"Sending a rookie to kill me?" She grinned,"Now that's just offensive."

The female sprite let out a laugh of her own,"Sometimes sacrifices are necessary."

Then, something grazed pass her face, sending a sharp sting across her cheek. Using the blizzard as her cover, Sage quickly laid down on her stomach and crawled to a different spot. She could feel the wet snow soaking through her black jumpsuit as she searched for the second yellow hue, praying the sprite lost track of her. How the hell are they even shooting near me with all this stupid wind, Sage frustratedly thought.

The female sprite's laugh echoed over the wind,"Will you look at that, all of your confidence gone with one arrow."

Sage bit back a retort knowing the female was just trying to get her to reveal herself to the archer. She couldn't believe they thought she was that dumb. But that might actually be a good thing.

She slid her goggles off her helmet and quickly strapped them back over her face. Then she took off her blue helmet and tossed it into the air. Sure enough, an arrow shot through the center of the helmet, sending it whizzing behind her. She quickly looked at the source and saw the faint yellow hue perched on what she guessed was a low branch, before crawling to a new position since her own cover was blown from the toss.

However, Sage was too slow and an arrow shot right into her left calf. She buried her face into the snow as she held in her scream from the excruciating pain. She looked up as she continued to crawl with her limp leg leaving a bloody trail behind her, tears forming in her eyes.

As she crawled over to the yellow light, the female opened her big mouth again,"Awfully quiet over there, filth. Don't tell me that little arrow sent you to your grave," she mocked.

Sage bit into her tongue, trying to focus on crawling to the archer rather than her throbbing leg or the annoying female sprite. She just had little more to go than the archer was going to kiss the tip of her sword.

Right as Sage reached the bottom of the branch and was preparing her stiff wings for the short flight up, the female's worried voice pierced the air,"She's gone! Findanor she's heading towards you!"

Sage took that as her cue and her wings launched her up into the air, aiming right for the branch. A stabbing pain shot through her leg and into the rest of her body as she landed, causing her to stumble. The archer quickly turned from the sudden movement, not knowing what to do as their eyes filled with terror when the fairy lifted her sword. As a last ditch effort, the archer quickly swung their bow, but Sage ducked underneath and swiftly punched them in the stomach, causing them to fold over onto their knees. The archer kept their head down as Sage lifted her sword, delivering the final blow through their skull. The limp body fell off the branch and landed in the snow, staining it blue. Sage watched as the faint yellow hue slowly disappeared from their body.

A blood curdling scream cut through the forest, and Sage looked up to see the yellow hue of the female running towards her. She promptly lifted her sword ready for her final enemy, but was surprised when the sprite only kneeled next to the body of the archer below her.

"My baby, my beautiful baby girl!" She cried into the archer's shoulder,"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault!" Sage could only watch in horror as the female, the archer's mother, let out another desperate wail,"We should have never listened to that man! This wasn't worth your life!"

The mother then glared up at Sage,"You filth! I will kill you!" The mom launched a dagger at Sage, who barely managed to dodge it in time. Before she could recover, the mom appeared on the branch next to her and tackled her onto the ground. The two landed on the harsh snow in a tangled mess. The mom managed to connect some good punches to Sage's face before the fairy kicked her off with her legs. A metallic taste coated Sage's tongue as warm blood trickled down her mouth, but the new rush of adrenaline kept every ounce of pain out of her head. Both women quickly got up and faced each other.

No words were said. None were needed. Sage killed her daughter and now the mom was seeking revenge. In an instant, the mom lunged at Sage with a glistening axe, who in turn, held up her own sword and countered it. The mother quickly kicked Sage's bad leg, causing her to crumble to the ground from her new weakness before driving her axe towards the fairy's head. Sage quickly rolled out of the way as the axe pierced the snow next to her, and Sage swung her sword to meet the woman's throat.

The sprite jumped back, the sword cutting through a thin layer of skin only causing some blue blood to stain her jacket. Sage rose to her feet, her leg felt like it was on fire but it was tolerable for the time being. Her frozen hands gripped her sword as she desperately swung at the sprite, just wanting to end the battle. The mother easily rolled under the silver sword and Sage suddenly felt a shock of pain erupt through her back, paralyzing her as she fell to the ground.

Sage could barely make out the crunching of footsteps as her heart hammered in her ears,"Wings," the angry mother's form engulfed her vision,"A fairy's life, and greatest weakness."

She felt a hand grazing over her back, her sensitive wings twitching from the unwelcome touch. Shit, Sage tightly closed her eyes to hold in her forming tears, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. She winced at one of her wings being harshly lifted up, knowing she will lose it to the axe in a matter of seconds.

As Sage helplessly laid on the snowy ground awaiting her fate, she felt a familiar but foreign feeling begin to erupt in her body. It was nice, warm, and brought a feeling of security she never knew she longed for. It traveled through her terrified form, reawakening every inch of her with a new surge of energy and hope. Sage could feel her battered body tingling with power, relishing in every second of it. It ordered her to get up. She obliged.

The fairy climbed to her hands and knees despite the weight pressing down on her back. She faintly saw a black axe rise over her head, coming down fast. In a matter of seconds, Sage was holding the arm of a shocked sprite, painfully twisting her wrist until the axe thudded into the snow. The fairy could almost smell the terror of the woman who was now kneeling at her mercy, or so she thought. Like her daughter, the mother made a last desperate attempt against the commander, and revealed a dagger under her coat before launching it at Sage's forehead.

Before Sage could even register what was happening, a bright orange light engulfed the space around them, taking over her vision. She could hear the shocked cry of the sprite followed by a crash that sounded further away from her. Sage furiously rubbed her eyes trying to rid them of the blinding light, paranoid the mother would stab her in the back, making her struggle for survival pointless.

As the fuzziness in her eyes slowly cleared, Sage took in the scene in front of her; a faint yellow hue was hardly visible through the thick snow, slumped against a giant tree a few feet ahead of her. Cautiously, she treaded through the thigh-deep snow to her fallen opponent.

When she got closer, Sage's stomach twisted at the gruesome sight staring back at her; a broken branch stuck cleanly out of the sprite's abdomen, gushing in blue blood while the woman writhed in agony underneath. The sprite slowly pulled off her goggles and glared her pained, teary eyes into the fairy,"I-I'm surprised a-a piece of f-filth like you actually o-outlived me," she let out a raspy cough that shook her weak body.

Sage couldn't help but pity the fallen being in front of her and rested a hand on her shoulder, and to her surprise, the mother didn't resist. "With your permission-," Sage struggled to find the right words,"I can quickly reunite you with your daughter. It will be painless."

Despite the obvious agony, the mother's eyes shot daggers through the commander's armor. The woman heaved painfully,"I w-will n-not die to a-a disg-disgusting creature l-like you."

The sprite's body spasmed as she coughed up blood, Sage resisted the urge to look away. She silently moved her hand off the dying woman's shoulder and gripped her hand as she sat down beside her.

Sage could feel her own body begin to ache as the powerful energy surge wore off, painfully reminding her of all the injuries sustained during the battle. She knew she had no right to complain as she held the hand of the wheezing woman beside her, who's labored breathing became weaker and weaker. Eventually, Sage felt the grip on her hand loosen and watched the yellow hue fade in front of her eyes, leaving the fairy alone once again.

-----

Sage looked at the three shallow graves in front of her as she slowly rose to her feet; the grave on the left had a bow and arrow placed on it, the one in the center displayed a glistening black axe, and two knives decorated the grave on the right. They weren't very deep and the fairy knew the bodies would be uncovered with the melting snow, but it was the least she could do with her aching body.

As much as she loathed the sprites, she wasn't a cold hearted killer like the monsters that attacked her village all those years ago. Sage fought and killed when she had to, but never drew her sword on someone who showed no threat to her. Even if they did try to kill her, they deserved to be respected in death. Sage wished someone went and buried the people from her village so she could say her proper goodbyes. She never got that chance and refused to take it from others.

She shook her head to rid her mind of the troubled thoughts and began slowly struggling her way through the now waist-high snow. Sage no longer cared about the lurking giant, checking borders, or even returning to The Hollow. All she yearned for was shelter and warmth.

She used her sword as a crutch, but that didn't stop the burning pain of her impaled leg as it dragged uselessly behind her. The discomfort of her throbbing, bruised muscles was replaced by the freezing sting of the snow hitting her skin. Her frozen wings no longer responded to her as they hung motionless from her back, all she could do was pray they weren't damaged. Sage wasn't sure what the symptoms of hyperthermia were, but she was convinced she was falling victim to it.

Sage shivered uncontrollably as she searched her surroundings for any holes or caves she could reside in, but was only met with the blinding snow falling all around her. A wave of hopelessness drowned her as she dropped to her knees, too weak to even try getting up again. She curled into a ball as she lay in the bitter snow slowly burying her, unable to cry as the cold numbed her face.

The sound of loud thumping against the ground filled her ears, producing a strangely calm feeling.

I'm sorry Rod. I'm so sorry Rod. I really tried to get home but my body hurts too much, I just... I just want to sleep. Sage closed her heavy eyes, once I get some rest, I'll try again. The peaceful darkness quickly overcame her and she fell asleep.

[valencebagelbandit]

every god needs an imp chap. 3: abracadabra

notes: guess whos back! its me! my hiatus is lasting a lot longer but I had enough to put out two chapters. please enjoy sorry for taking so dreadfully long <3

summary: homelander realizes hes in for it.

Homelander had never been so offended and confused in all his years of dealing with other supes all by a goddamn magician. Heart beating hard in his chest He followed eccetrica to the bar sitting next to her not even moving his cape aside. determined not to be rejected at this point he didn’t care if she was even worth it, it was the principal alone that made his hands curl into fists. Eccentrica didn't speak simply looking ahead at her reflection in the mirror of the bar glowing eyes now fully extinguished as she took a sip of her drink. However her calm demeanor only served to piss homelander off more, He glared at her seconds away from lasering her debating on how hard it would be to cover up him just destroying the entire casino.

“Ya’ know it's kinda rude to be so disrespectful to someone like me right? I know you're not used to talking to anyone who has any actual weight in this world, I mean look around this is the thrill of most people's lives fucking slapping a button and getting drunk. I'm offering you a chance to get ahead and you're just going to throw it out on the notion that this is somehow better?” Homelander began to rant a bit only breaking to nervously laugh and shake his head as his fingertips dug into his palms. 

“I mean honestly who-” he started again but was immediately cut off.

“Will you please shut up?” Eccentrica stared at him sideways unblinking eyes staring straight at him once more, it felt like he was being judged by an owl. 

“I don’t give a single flying fuck who you are, you're really proving my point your a show dog who has nothing but over-dramatic barks. Like a husky, you're a husky all you do is complain.” she spoke completely seriously sipping her drink she still stared at him posture perfect, body completely still. This… this wasn't how she was supposed to be. In homelander’s mind, she was nothing more than a silly little magician a second-class citizen barely above the heathens she entertained, and yet she had just called him a dog. Now that was something he really didn't like…

Homelander reacted immediately, reaching over he rested his forearm on her shoulder his left hand locked around the spot right at the base of her neck that sensitive little sweet spot where he could feel her pulse pounding beneath his fingers. He could feel the veins move when he tightened his grip,  restricting blood flow, she immediately started to strain under his super strength, the reaction involuntary.

“I don't think I like you very much eccentrica, if I'm a dog that makes you absolutely nothing compared to me, tell me why I shouldn’t shove you into a box and toss you into the Atlantic to see if you can Harry Houdini your way out.” he waited for some kind of reaction from her but instead she took another sip of her soda uncaring of what he was doing focused on something else. She casually finished off the glass before finally turning back to him with a fake frown lips pouted out.

“Oh no, I'm so scared! Please don't hurt me Mr.Homelander I'll join your silly little team just don't break my poor brittle bones I'm just a pathetic little magician!” she put her other hand on her cheek eyes filling with tears as she wailed mockingly. “I-im ju- just so weak and sad!” her wailing immediately broke down into cackles.

Homelander didn't know how to even reply, he was about to snap her wrist when she calmed down. Reaching out she patted his shoulder giving one of his eagle decorations a pet before leaning in closer, “Abracadabra.” 

his mind barely processed the words before Eccentrica’s eyes lit up again with that purple glow that burned in his mind even when it dulled. As if the floor had dropped from beneath him plunging him into darkness, at first he thought she had somehow knocked him out before a single spotlight came on. Eccentrica had perched on a massive table legs swinging as she sat back observing him. various props for magic tricks were strewn about what he realized was a stage, the clever little magician had just made him disappear and reappear in an instant like a bunny in a hat. 

“I'm less of a bug and more of a stray cat thank you.” she casually commented as she disappeared only to appear behind him watching him curiously.

“That was impressive I suppose. What now are you going to saw me in half?” Homelander looked over his shoulder at Eccentrica who had her hands behind her back tapping her foot against the wood of the stage.

“Kinky, but no.” she puckered her lips smiling cheekily as she offered him one of her hands. Flipping it over a deck of cards appeared on the back of her hand, flipping her hand again she spread them out in a single flourish. “Go on, pick one.”

He sighed taking one from her, he flipped it over expecting to see a playing card but instead, it was a VIP ticket to her show that night. Looking at the back of the card again he realized she had swapped the cards in the instant that he flipped it over. 

“Very clever, anyways why would I come to your show?” his eyes flicked up to where Eccentrica had just been standing only to find her gone again.

“Because it's the last one.” her voice came from above him where she was laying on her stomach feet lazily kicking upwards as she watched him chin sitting in her hand. She sighed softly letting her arm drop off the catwalk, “I'm tired, tired of the lights and the alcohol and the drugs. You won't get that, you've been in the big leagues forever you didn’t have to beat the shit out of your teammates for ratings or get felt up by tv producers at sixteen. Besides it's so boring so boring you and all of your loser teammates.”

“What? What do you want me to say to that? Oh, I'm so sorry you had to go on TV as a kid get over it. I had to do worse to climb the ladder.” Homelander crossed his arms rolling his eyes. “Just take my offer-”

“I am. I'm leaving tomorrow I've already decided chill airbud.” she dropped down from the catwalk landing next to him teleporting at the last second to break her fall. He barely caught it but he saw a look cross her face, some somber shell-shocked hurt far too close to the ones he had seen in the mirror. He did understand to some extent but still, he suffered too. She was just so inconsistent, so goddamn startling. He couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated every bit of her.

“Just come to the show hell even bring your kid, Brian or whatever his name is.” she began to walk away hips swaying giving Homelander some highly inappropriate urges for the tone of the moment. As soon as she hit the shadow of the curtains she vanished leaving Homelander to his own devices.

thank you for reading <3

[fabraies-archive]

LESS THAN ZERO

notes n warnings ❅ *: snowboarder! reader x coach! Iwaizumi, all fluff and cute winter wonderland theme, a little angst, heavily inspired by Taylor swift’s folklore album, bad pacing as always, areblogs are always appreciated, and I hope you all have a great ski season! wc 4.2 k

part 2 of snowflakes are kisses from heaven

DAY 1

You hated this voice. Echoing all over the ski slope, everyone could hear it loud and clear: you had not managed to keep up with the public’s expectations. The distorted voice continues calling out the podium winners, eventually taking a break to build the suspense when he gets to the gold medalist. The gold medalist that should’ve been you.

“First place! Chloe Kim of the United States of America!”

You look down to your feet as the Chinese translator takes over, and play with you bronze medal. You’re not mad at her. You’re mad at yourself. 'If onlys’ quickly fill up the entire functioning parts of your brain. If only you had worked harder. If only you had listened to your coach about this and that. If only you had worked longer. If only you hadn’t brushed off the criticism online. If only.

Looking back at the past months, disappointment takes over. You’re about to enter a self-deprecating inner rant when a someone grabs your hand, and you almost feel bad for wishing it would be somebody else.

“Are you thinking of getting off that podium anytime soon? Or maybe you’d rather sleep there.” A deep voice chuckles. You don’t find it funny.

“Iwaizumi.” You nod, acknowledging his presence. You don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. You two had built some sort of a friendship throughout the games, playful banter making up most of your conversations, but right now, you don’t feel like it. Especially since he’s Chloe Kim’s coach.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” He jokes, again, and this time, you don’t bother answering. You don’t have to, because he gets it. You wish he didn’t. Iwaizumi puts his hands on your shoulders, and continues, “Come on! Don’t act like third place is bad! These were your first games, you’ll have plenty of time to get first place at any other time.” He tries to make you see the bright side of things, knock some sense into you. It doesn’t work, as you just decide to shrug his hands off instead.

You can’t stand the act you’re putting up in front of him anymore. You take off your helmet, step down from the podium, and there it is. The disappointment comes by again, because if only the step was a little bit bigger. Maybe you would’ve been more satisfied then.

“Of course you’d say that.” You scoff lightly, “Your trainee just won. For whom, by the way, I’m very happy. Really, I am. But you didn’t have time after your first Olympics, and that’s why you’re on the sidelines right now. There’s a fifty fifty chance I might end up like you before the next Olympics. So excuse me, but no.” You turn on your heel shortly after that, not expecting the conversation to go any further.

“I get it.” He calls out to you.

For a while, you don’t say anything. The cold mountain breeze blows softly, the snowflakes silently settle on your hair. You realize you forgot to put on lipbalm this morning, and carefully reach up to your lips. The bumps you feel with your fingers confirm that they’re chapped: even more so with the cold. 

Hajime catches his breath before starting again. “I get it. You’re an athlete, our careers end early. We don’t have much time and that’s how it is. It’s unfair. And that, is exactly why you can’t let this get to you. You don’t have time to bitch and moan.” He couln’t help adding a personal aside; “Besides, you know, for somebody who’s never been at Olympics before, you actually did great; I don’t mean to discredit Chloe but, she’s been there before. You haven’t.” 

“I guess” You mumble quietly. You don’t dare look at him. His gaze is unsettling, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“Bye, now.” Your attempt at indifference is laughable. Your voice is weak and lacks authority, your words sucked into an empty void as you wave your hand dismissively. You begin your walk up to the Olympic village, and his voice makes way to your eardrums once again. 

“Meet me at this exact slope tomorrow, at midday. I want to tell you something.”

DAY 2

Your indexes press both your temples, your elbows lying on your bathroom counter. You look at the time, then back at the mirror, only to find it reflecting an image that doesn’t satisfy you; at all. Concealer, foundation, setting powder, color correcters- you had tried everything, if not more, to get rid of the awful panda eyes you woke up with, but nothing worked. 

At this rate, you were surely going to be off the rocker by midday -which happened to be the time at which you were supposed to meet Iwaizumi. You take one last glance at your watch for good measure, only to find out you had a measly quarter of an hour before you’d have to leave. You have 10 left when you realize you’re a desperate case. 

Who were you trying so hard for, anyway? You stop dead in your tracks. Who were you trying so hard for? Iwaizumi? Surely not. You feel your cheeks and the tip of your ears get hot at the thought. Inhale, hold, exhale. And again. You repeat this action a few times, in hopes to cool down, clear your head, but it’s not easy. The fact that you’re running late for the meet-up is not helping, either. You’re considering taking a rain-check on it, because you just realized you’re probably in love with someone else’s coach. 

“Probably”, smoke forms itself in the cold air after  the words escape your lips. “Probably.” you repeat, in an attempt to reassure yourself.

The next time you catch yourself thinking of your impromptu ‘crush’, you’re going up a mountain, the subject of your thoughts staring right back at you. 

“A penny for your thoughts?”

The question almost makes you snicker. Iwaizumi had coined this expression after hearing it on an American sitcom you two had watched not too long ago, and your heart aches at the memory. You had no doubt that if he even had an inkling of what was going on inside your head, Hajime would’ve been out of your sight before you’d even be sure of your feelings. You suppose it won’t make much of a difference, considering you’re to leave in a day from now.

“I wouldn’t even sell them for a million, forget it.” You narrow your eyes at him.

At this, the bulky man raises a brow. “So you do have something to hide ?”

“Drop it.” You warn again.

You can see his mouth slightly parting, ready to shoot you another remark, attempting to find out what exactly is clouding your mind, when the lift doors open, and one of the cable car drivers usher you out of the cabin with a disapproving look.

You elbow Iwaizumi in the ribs, asking him what exactly went through his mind for your presence to get such a reaction out of the driver.

He doesn’t answer, and instead grabs your gloved hand to drag you through the woods until you reach a tiny ski shed. It’s slightly old, and the wood is close to giving out, the color slowly fading from a nice brown to a dull grey.

The inside is a nice contrast to the cold outside, and you don’t wait a second to come in and find a tiny loveseat while draping a duvet on yourself. 

“By all means, make yourself at home.” Hajime says. At this, you stop moving, suddenly realising how impolite you were being. You raise your head, only to be met with a handsome grin. “I’m kidding” he finishes. 

You reply with another smile, turning your head to the tiny scratched square window on the right. The sky is oddly bright, the clouds acting as a screen, reflecting the light. It’s truly a beautiful sight to behold, the snowflakes fluttering down to land softly on the rim of the window. Over time, the snow clumps together to form a thick blanket over the frozen grass. The snowfall is so harsh it only takes a few minutes for the layer to thicken until it’s already reaching 15 centimeters. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi whispers. 

“It is.” You answer. 

There’s no need for any of you to fill the empty void of silence after that. You fall into a comfortable atmosphere, and it feels like a dream neither of you want to wake up from. You can feel Iwaizumi’s soft stare, and few seconds later, you feel your loveseat dip, and a head fall on your shoulder. you tilt your head, questioning his behaviour, but the slow breathing indicates he’s already fallen asleep. 

“Maybe I do like you.” You whisper to yourself, your eyes running over his features. It’s a risky move, but as far as you’re concerned, he’s supposedly asleep. Your heart swells as you notice the droplets of snow on his eyebrows and eyelashes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anybody this beautiful before. His delicate lips are the last thing you see before you fall asleep yourself. 

You wake up, and it’s noon. By then, you’re sure you’ve fallen in love with Iwaizumi Hajime. 

“Hey sleepyhead. Look, I’ve talked to the cable cars staff and the last lift is in 15 minutes so, we should get going.” A tall man opens the door and speaks up. You don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the past day. 

You relunctantly get up from your comfortable seat, and put on your jacket, and head out to the cable car station. On the way, you can’t help but ask a question that you’ve been keeping to yourself ever since earlier this afternoon. 

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” You start, fiddling with you fingers. It hadn’t been your goal to pressure him into telling you, but your curiousity took the best of you. 

“Won’t tell you until you tell me what was up with you on the way up here.” He crosses his arms on his chest, determined to know what was up with you. 

You raise a brow, clearly unimpressed with the chantage attempt. “I’m not telling you.” You stay firm and focused. You would rather die than have anybody know about your crush about your opponents’ coach, let alone the man himself.

“I guess I won’t tell you what I wanted to tell you, then.” He says nonchalantly, playing with your nerves. You don’t give in to his game, and shrug, “fine by me.”

It was not fine by you.

DAY 3

“Are you sure we’re even allowed to do this?” You shout over the wind, snowboard in hand.

“We used the lift last time and the guy said it was fine. I asked him about it again this morning and he said it was also fine. Don’t stress.” Iwaizumi answers, adjusting his ski glassware.

You huff. “I’m not stressing. I just think it’s very irresponsible, ‘s all.” Your maternal instincts take over as your hands settle on your hips, as if you were scolding a child. “And, your injury. I don’t want to be blacklisted by your twitter stans, they are terrifying.”

He doesn’t do anything but laugh, until he speaks up again. “Thought you were actually worried about me for a second.”

“You wish” A grin takes over your face, which is quickly mirrored by your interlocutor; “A man can dream” the black haired man sighs, looking up. It doesn’t take too long for him to wake up from his daydreaming, as he shuns you forward, and indicates for you to get your snowboarding gear on.

You consider questioning his words from a few seconds ago, but quickly decide against it, and wordlessly comply and count the seconds until your partner was done as well. The view in front of you is breathtaking. Far off, you can already see the steep sides of the mountains and their sloping sides and rounded ridges. They’re not snowboarding friendly, you know that, but their beauty is so captivating, as if they’re beckoning you forward, begging you to come their crooked tracks. 

The slopes are untouched, yet to be used, and a fresh even layer of snow broods the land. In moments like these, you remember why you’ve been doing this for so long, why despite the losses, you’re still out there, competing. 

“Come on! We don’t have time to loose!” Iwaizumi’s voice fills the short-lived silence, and you start worrying. 

“You said the cable car driver was fine with it! Why would there be time to loose?” You reply, fastening your helmet. 

“I said the cable car driver was fine with it, not the security!” 

You let out a frustrated grunt, unheard by Hajime, who’s already on his way down the slope. In this moment, you can’t find yourself to be mad at him. Not when he looks so happy, so carefree. He’d always looked slightly off ever since you met him, as if he was he was missing something, a particular little thing. So little, but so important. It now hits you that the particular little thing has to be snowboarding.

Iwaizumi is halfway down already, and you get ready to try and overtake him. A few tiny jumps, and you smoothly start gliding on the snow. You’ve always loved it. The speed, the adrenaline, the risk. By now you’ve amassed an incredible amount of said speed; you’ve always been used to things going by pretty fast, but even by your own standards, your eyes start to widen: maybe you’re going a little too fast after all. 

You know you have when you suddenly collapse in what you thought was a tree, and land face down in the snow. The wind is knocked out of your lungs when you realize you can still feel the tree. Have I hit it so hard I uprooted the tree?? You start panicking. You were already in trouble for going down this slope when you weren’t supposed to -which your coach would definitely kill you for- and now you were supposed to deal with an uprooted tree? How unlucky could you even get? 

A slight groan from the supposed tree gives you an answer: incredibly unlucky. 

“Could’ve been a little nicer,” he laughs a little, and you wonder how he still has the energy to do this despite being hit by bulldozer; you. “I’m not as young as you.” 

“This,” You take some time to recover from your irregular breathing rhythm, “This is all you have to say?” 

“You’d rather have me yell at you or something?” He quirks an eyebrow, “Besides, I’m not too mad about how this whole thing ended up.” At this, you feel his hands go up to your waist, and only then do you realise the compromising position you two were in. 

“Shut up.” You seethe, getting off of him and attempting to hide the flustured expression your face is bearing. 

The task proves itself to be harder than you initially thought, as both of your snowboards get slightly intwined. 

“Let me- Hold on, just-” His slightly out-of-breath tone is making your heart beat at a pace that you are sure was probably much faster than the speed at which you hit Iwaizumi. Your faces are so close to each other, you might pass out. He looks slightly shaken as well, because he holds on to you. Puts his arm around you, draws you close, and waits. You both close your eyes, and for a moment, nothing happens. 

The only things to be heard are the ruffling of the trees and the wind’s whistles. You wish you could stay like this forever. You can’t even bring yourself to think about the fact that this isn’t how it should be. This isn’t right. But if it isn’t, why does it feel so normal? 

Your helmet makes a noise, and you realize it’s due to both of your helmets blocking each other from getting any closer. Talk about a cockblock.

“The thing I wanted to talk to you about. You know, yesterday, on the lift?” You start. Your hands feel moist from the nervosity wrecking your brain, but this time is right. You’re obviously not the only that has enjoyed this ‘encounter’, and you had drawn two conclusions out of this fact: number one: you probably do have a shot with him after all, and number two: you should probably shoot it soon. Soon as in, right now.

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I have to say something, too. But, you-, you can start.” The position that has him laying on his back adds a slight edge to his voice, and you’re not sure if you feel incredibly attracted by it, or if it’s a sign you shouldn’t confess after all.

“Well. There’s no easy way to say this, and feel free to stop me any time because honestly, if you get weirded out, I won’t even get mad, like, this so out of the blue and totally weird so really just-“

A mechanical click is heard from the woods, behind one of the trees, causing both of your heads to whip to the tree’s direction. A black shadow, and suddenly, nothing. That’s what you see. However, it’s enough for you both to understand: it was a paparazzi.

The cozy and comfortable atmosphere you two had created had now vanished an record time: you two were soon enough messily getting off each other, running back to both of your respective hotels. This was not good. It couldn’t be.

DAY 4

The one time you desperately wanted to be wrong, you weren’t. Your coach woke you up at a whooping five am, with 46 messages et 6 missed calls. Out of the impressive amount of messages you could make out a link to an article; Oh, this definitely was not good.

Your first reaction is a scoff. Star Crossed Lovers? How cheesy could these boulevard journals actually get? Your second is to pick up your coaches incoming call.

“Mind to explain? In what world does somebody get so reckless? With Iwaizumi, no less? Look, I know you’re upset about that bronze medal, but this was not the way to bring the attention back to you. God, how could you just-, what were you thinking?” The rest of his rant you don’t hear, drowning out his voice. All you can think of is Iwaizumi.

You just ruined his career. He had to retire from competitive snowboarding, and now, because of you, he’s going to have to let go of coaching, too. All because of you.

“I-I’m sorry, coach. Really. I know this is bad timing, but I really have to go.” You let out, bracing yourself for yet another storm of anger.

“You have to go? You cannot be-“ you hang up shortly after, having had enough of his grating mechanical voice.

You skip the bathroom; you don’t have time for casualties, you need to get to Iwaizumi as soon as possible. All throughout getting ready, you think about the fact that you would not have to get hastily ready if you had Iwaizumi’s phone number.

You take your jacket off the hook, grab your room’s key, and head out. You try your best to avoid the overwhelming stares. Some flash a sympathetic grin, and others opt for a glare of disdain, such as the woman sitting by the reception of the resort, seemingly waiting for someone else to arrive.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t stand for our Chloe to have the spotlight for a second, could you? You couldn’t steal her medal, so you stole her coach, didn’t you? You poor girl.” The woman comes up to you. The tone of her voice is unforgiving and unyielding. Soon enough, you notice the American flag embroidered on the sleeves of her jacket. She’s part of the American delegation, that’s why she’s blowing a fuse and having a go at you in public.

“Do we have a problem here, ladies?” An amiable voice from the back echoes in the reception.

All of a sudden, the woman, who, just a second ago was standing tall facing you, surrenders, muttering out a ‘no’ and soon leaves.

You turn around and, sure enough, it’s the man you’ve been trying to bump into. He takes your hand and, had you not been in your current situation, you would have felt the butterflies swarming in your belly.

“Come on up, we’ll go to my room, I’m sure they won’t give us any trouble there.” He proposes with a stunning smile, seemingly unaffected by the recent events. You stay in place, unable to move or speak.

“Assuming you’re here to talk to me, I mean. In light of recent events.”

You nod.

It doesn’t take too long until you both reach his suite, and only then does the long-awaited conversation start taking place. “I know about the article, by the way. You didn’t need to come up all the way here and deal with them. Appreciate it, nonetheless.” Iwaizumi reassures you.

“That’s.. great. Awesome. Could’ve avoided all that if I had your phone number, though.” You hold the sleeve of your left arm, unsure where that confidence came from.

“Is that your way of asking for my number?” He chuckles, “You could’ve just used social media.”

“Is that your way of rejecting me?” You comically imitate his last question, “And, not a fan. Besides, your accounts are all set in private.”

“So you did check.”

“You wouldn’t have accepted me either way.”

“What makes you say that?” Hajime tilts his head to the side. “After all the lifts I had to negotiate for you, and you think I wouldn’t have accepted you?”

You shrug. Now is not the time to give in to your delusional tendencies. “Isn’t this what friends do?” You ask, and when you turn your head around to face the brunette, you immediately regret it.

He looks dejected at the conclusion you’ve drawn from the past few days.

“What nice friends you have, then.” He doesn’t waste a second, and gets up from the bed. Clearly, you weren’t the only one that had suffered from an emotional turmoil this week. Your heart jumps at the realisation that Iwaizumi most probably likes you back, and also that the current situation you’ve found yourself in.

“No, I just- That’s not what I meant-“ you reach out to him, in vain.

“I get it. I’m not a child. We don’t feel same way about each other, and that’s fine. I can deal with it, I’ve been there before. Go back to your resort.”

“That’s not-“ you protest, but with a single hand movement, he silences you again.

“Go pack. You leave tomorrow.” The tone is unusual. It’s cold, hard, unwelcoming. It’s an order.

You’d be a fool to walk out of this door. Don’t walk out on him, the little voice in your head says.

“I like you back. I’ve always liked you.” You whisper. And with that, you walk out. Hajime doesn’t try to call you back.

DAY 5

You had never felt so homesick. Not even browsing the airport shops can help you feel better. Every tuft of black hair reminds you of him. You can’t shake him off, and feel like going crazy. The rest of your delegation won’t talk to you, presumably under the pressure of your coach, who was still incredibly mad at you.

The only one who hadn’t succumbed to peer pressure yet was a pretty and quiet girl by the name of Kiyoko. She mostly only listened and hummed as a sign that she was really listening, but that was more than enough for you.

“I just feel like shit for not having done more. I don’t know why I walked out on him. But like, at the same time, why wouldn’t he chase after me you know? If he really likes me. But maybe, maybe I was just being delusional the entire time and turns out he never liked me at all and I literally got it all wrong!” You gasp at that, “Oh my god. I would die if that was the case.”

You turn to kiyoko in panic, and hold her shoulders. “Do you think that was the case?”

In classic kiyoko fashion, she only blinks, and lets out a small ‘no’.

“I mean, even if that was the case, it’s not like I care. Like, Spencer Reid is hotter anyway.” You bite your fingernails, “or is he? Kiyoko, who’s hotter, Iwaizumi or Spencer Reid?”

“I don’t know who Spencer Rei-“

“I’d say Iwaizumi.”

It’s him. The only back tuft or hair you had been looking for in the swarm of people in the airport. You don’t have time to answer, because he takes your hand, and pulls you closer by the waist.

“I’m not sure..” you hum, “I think Spencer Reid might be a little more-“

Your words are drowned out by the sound of Iwaizumi’s lips smashing into yours. You relax into the kiss, and put your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible. The scent of his cologne is addictive, and you would’ve stayed like this for centuries if it weren’t for the crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t chase after you like I was in a Hollywood movie. I thought you might want space.”

“You’re not forgiven.” You smile, and the grin he wears in response is making your heart jump out of your thorax.

Who knows if he never showed up what could’ve been?

©234423zip ALL RIGHTS RESERVED do not copy modify or translate my work/theme

A/n: I swear I really am on a semi-hiatus. This was just like 3/4 finished so I just wanted it to be done and posted

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (29/09/24)

Man I wasn't even following JJK weekly for that long (a bit over a year) but it always feels weird when a long runner like this ends.. Next week the new anime season starts so that'll be fun at least

blue - finale/completed

Anime

Mayonaka Punch Ep12 (Finale)

That was a great show. I went in not expecting much but I shoulda trusted PA, they can cook. It was a bit over the place, but it's highs were really high and the lows were still better than the average episode for most shows so it balances out in the end. I really liked the twist in the finale, I thought it was weird that it started off so serious (including ep11) but the payoff was good. I figured out what was going on right before it was revealed but not fully. At the end the yuri didn't amount to anything but I figured that'd be the case, so I didn't have my hopes up or anything. The reason why Live is so into Masaki was cute too. TL;DR: Great show, fun cast with good voices too and a lot of fun and goofy episodes. Tho funnily enough my favourite episode was one of the more serious ones (ep 4 which I did talk about). But yeah, really fun slice of life show that did a good job with it's concept. Trust PA 👍

Oh also, it had my favourite op of the season (from stuff I watched), it's just really catchy and fun (samurai's is the runner up)

The Elusive Samurai Ep 12 (Finale)

Great adaptation for a great series, I wish all of them could get an anime this good. There were some weaker episodes but they were masked well enough and the use of CG was to be expected considering how many people are in some of these battles. The sakuga we got was great tho, with a shoutout to ep 9 where they really went off. All the little changes and additions they did for the anime were really good as well. Sadly there was no announcement or even tease for a S2 and the way the episode ended felt very final so I'm worried this is all we'll get, but hopefully I'm wrong. Regardless of all that, it was a great anime and well worth the watch even if you haven't read the manga (tho the manga gets much better after what was covered here)

Pokemon Horizons Ep67

That was a pretty good end to this arc. The outcome of the battle was as expected but at least it was somewhat close. It was nice to see the evolution tho, we already knew it'd evolve cause of the promo material for the next arc so it kinda makes sense it'd be in this climax. Wish the explorers had done more since they infiltrated the school and all but they don't do enough in general, outside of plot eps, so we're used to it I guess. With the next arc focusing more on story stuff with them pursuing rayquaza again, and the other missing mons, I hope they show up some more but I doubt it. We'll also get the dlc charas so that'll be fun at least

Manga

Jujutsu Kaisen Ch271 (Finale)

Man where do I even start. I didn't accompany the series for that long, I caught up on chap 238 which was a bit over a year ago but it feels much longer than that. It was a great series from start to finish. It may not seemed like I liked it that much since I gave it a 7 but it would've been an 8 if the story wasn't so convoluted and hard to follow. It's also one of the rare cases where I'll say the anime is actually better than the manga. But regardless of any of that it's still a perfect example of what a WSJ series should be to me.

Gege's art was good and he always did a great job of making readable fight scenes that flowed well from panel to panel and that were really creative. The power system ended up as one of my favourites. The cursed techniques were already cool and creative but the introduction of all the domain expansions and the various binding vows people could place on themselves to change how they worked were super cool. A lot of my OC's powers and abilities are modeled after this because I liked it THAT much. My favourites in the end were what I expected early on, Maki and Gojo. Maki obviously, cause if you know me you know that I love the "guy with no powers that's just strong enough to go toe to toe with others" trope. And Gojo cause, to be honest, he's just so damn cool. Like at first, and from what I knew before reading, I was like "Oh he's just some overpowered pretty boy that all the fangirls love" but he turned out to actually be great. I know he got used a lot as a deus ex machina and Gege even had to seal him away or he wouldn't have been able to do the Culling Game Arc but that doesn't make me like him any less. Still miffed about what happened to win and it getting turned into a meme, cause he was RIGHT, he would've won against sukuna for sure, the reason he lost was because Sukuna had Mahoraga and the other summons since he was in Fushiguro's body but oh well, he still put up and incredible fight and gave us one of the coolest fights in the series

Anyway, I'm rambling now so I'll stop. I loved the series, I know I didn't talk about it much and there's others I like more but it was still a really fun ride from start to finish. It's entertainment and it did it's job for it's whole run, what else can you ask for? I'll certainly be looking forward to Gege's next series whenever he decides to come back. Just like the memes say: "Stand proud. You can cook."

Hakutaku Ch2

I didn't expect to talk about this one so soon but this chap was way better than the first one and did a way better job at selling the series. They shoulda cut some of the stuff in ch1 so it could've ended in the pic below but oh well. At least I'm not as down on it as I was last week so that's good at least

Undead Unluck Ch224

Let's goooooo this is exactly what I wanted After the last chap, where they skipped the 1v1 fights against the master rules and went straight into ragnarok me, and everyone reading, were worried that the series was rushing to a premature end. It's been doing pretty bad in ratings for a while but we figured it's because the magazine is gonna let it run it's course so it's placement doesn't matter anymore. But after seeing it skip straight to the last boss like this had us questioning it. However, I did point out last week that god had those numbered balls floating around him that weren't there before and that they prob were the master rules and that everyone was gonna go inside and beat them to weaken god, and I was absolutely correct 😎 Now I just hope that everyone at least gets 2 or 3 chaps for their fight and none of them happens off screen

Glad it didn't get a rushed ending, keep cooking Tozuka 🙏

[slytherinbangchan]

Inked Dreams (NCT Dream Tattoo Artist!Au) (M)

Chap 3 out of 6 -> Second arc: Tattoo apprentice Park Jisung x tattoo artist female reader.

>>Inked Dream's Chap 1 here

Summary: A NCT Dream Tattooist!Au where the Dreamies are college's heartthrobs and most likely will steal your heart whenever you less expect it.

Cute, "shy" but very hot, flirty Jisung. A deadly combo, I promise.

Inked Dreams Masterlist~ Blog's Masterlist~

[2nd Arc: Seven Days. ("A Week" 없어.)🐹 Chap 3.]

You wake up pretty late on Sunday, but that's not weird taking into account how long you were talking to Jisung on the phone last night. Your heart flutters a bit as you think about it. Can't believe someone as shy as him has entered your life with such a rush. But there's this thing you've noticed about him, he's confident even though he's shy. He can be a blushing mess but still will say what he wants to say, and that makes you feel some kind of way.

Your phone buzzes a bit after dinner and a smile draws on your face as you see Jisung's name on your screen. “No texts tonight?” You answer and he smiles on the other side of the call. “Nah, I wanted to hear noona's voice.” He says, making you blush, but you scoff. “Player~” You say and he just chuckles. “How was your day, noona?” He asks. “Hmm, a bit boring I guess? I slept all morning. What did you do?” You ask as you turn off the tv before heading to your room. “Nothing much... I went to visit Chenle and we played some games... Ah!..” He exclaims by the end of the sentence, then you hear some clattering. “What was that?” You ask, chuckling, and he sighs. “I... dropped some food.” He says and you chuckle again. “Oh, are you making dinner?” You ask. “Mhm, kinda... Actually Chenle gave me some leftovers.” He explains. Oh, Chenle gave him some food, that's cute. From what you learnt in your hours long call last night, they're really close. “Ohh... Should I call later so you can eat now?” You ask. “Mhm? It's fine though. I was the one who called, noona.” He chuckles softly. “I thought you were a bad multitasker.” You tease and he scoffs. “I literally just dropped my food while talking to you.” He points out and you laugh. “Right, see? I believe you.” You say and he scoffs softly as he smiles. “Well, I'm fine with dropping some food... As long as I can listen to noona for a bit longer.”

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

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

“Ugh.” Renjun complains as he checks his schedule for today and you chuckle. “What?” You ask and he sighs. “My head hurts like hell. I think I got a bit sick last Friday.” He clears his throat. “That or I'm still hungover, who knows?” He says and you laugh. “What did you do??” You ask. “We had a party and I fell in the pool, so yeah... It really can be anything.” He explains. “We?? Jisung too?” You ask and he nods. “Yeah, I thought he wouldn't come but he ended up showing up.” He says just as Jisung is entering the shop and you scoff as you smile.

“You went to a party last Friday? Is that why you disappeared?” You ask Jisung right away. “You could have told me.” You laugh and he blushes a bit flustered by the sudden question. “Sorry noona, I wasn't going to go but Chenle hyung insisted so much.” He explains and you narrow your eyes. “Wait...You drank at that party, didn't you? That's why you didn't tell me.” You guess and he nods. “Ah, seriously. No wonder your tongue hurt so much the next day. You're lucky that's all that happened.” You say, then you sigh. “Let me see it.” You ask him and he pouts but you raise your eyebrows and he shows you his tongue. “Hm, it's red but doesn't seem too bad.” You say, softly pushing his mouth shut by his chin with your finger. “Are you mad at me cause I went to Chenle's party, noona?” He asks with puppy eyes, and you scoff as you smile. “Of course not, you dummy. Just be more careful with it, yeah? You could have gotten it infected.” You say as you take out some designs from a binder and Renjun chuckles. “Noona, I think he wants to know if you're jealous.” He says, making Jisung blush. “Ya, hyung...” He says and you blush too. “Aishh, Renjun-ah, don't mess with him like that.” You nag at him and he laughs. “Yees~” He says before leaving to his work station. Your eyes meet Jisung's, who is still blushing, but Seonhui arrives just when he's about to say something, so you both end up just chuckling softly. He shakes his head and moves his hand as if what he was going to say wasn't important and you nod as you smile and leave it there.

“Oof, Jisung, you really have poop hands, huh?” Seonhui asks him, making you chuckle softly as you work on a client's tattoo. You take a quick look at them, Jisung must have dropped something again. He's picking up some suff from the floor as Seonhui rolls her eyes at him. “Such huge hands and you don't know how to use them.” She keeps complaining and he huffs loudly. “Hey, stop it, we have clients here.” You say and they apologize. You chuckle as you shake your head and apologize to the girl you're tattooing too. They're actually cute. You don't want to nag at them but you have to. Also, you really don't want Jisung to feel bad for being clumsy like that.

You see your last client of the day finally leave the shop and sigh as Jisung sanitizes your tattoo equipment. “So tired.” You complain as you stretch a little and he simply smiles at you sweetely, but you can see he's exhausted too. He looks so soft. It makes your heart flutter.

Having him this close definitely feels different after all the time you spent on the phone this weekend.

You ruffle his hair as he keeps working, lingering a bit as you think about how bad you want to lie next to him and just listen to his voice as he talks about random stuff. Then, Chenle comes to mind as you think about that party Jisung went to, and you wonder if you'd have seen him in the shop sometime but forgot about his face. You're sure you've heard his name before though, more than sure actually, since he's part of the guys's group of friends too.

You sigh as you distractedly keep playing with Jisung's hair, and he rests his head on your waist, awakening some butterflies in your stomach as he softly grunts out of tiredness and his sleepy voice comes back to your thoughts again.

Your eyes wander a bit around the shop, still lost in your thoughts until you notice Seonhui staring at you, which makes you snap out of it and leave Jisung's hair alone as you lightly blush. Then you go find Renjun at his station. “Hey, so... You still up for those drinks?” You ask, leaning on his table. Your cheeks still red from what just happened. “Sure.” He says without looking at you and your eyes move to the guy sitting behind him. “Hi, noona.” He says and you blush even more. “Oh, Jaemin... I didn't realize you were here.” Okay, you do know this friend of Renjun for sure. “Mhm, I had something to talk about with Renjunnie.” He says as he sweetely combs Junnie's hair back with his fingers and Junn blushes lightly at his action, then clicks his tongue. “Jaemin-ah, I have to finish this.” He softly nags at him, not taking his eyes off what he's drawing but Jaemin just smiles. “Mhm, I see~ I'll leave you alone.” He chuckles. “Can I take the car then?” He asks in a sweet tone as he attentively looks at Renjun. “Yeah, I'll sleep at Jisung's.” Junnie says, finally looking at him and Jaemin pouts making Renjun chuckle softly. “Jaemin-ah, it's fine. Just update me about what happens, yeah?” He asks him and Jaemin nods, caressing Junnies cheek. He stares at him until Renjun starts blushing again, then Jaemin smiles and sighs as he stands up. “Okay, I'll text you later Junn-ah.” He says and Renjun smiles, still focussed on his drawing. “Mhm~”

“Unnie~” Seonhui calls you as soon as Jaemin leaves. “Are you guys drinking tonight? Is it okay if I go too?” She asks and you look at Renjun. “I mean... Jisung is coming too.” He says. “He is?” You ask as you chuckle and he smiles. “Yeah, as I said I'm sleeping at his house. I'm also pretty sure he'd be all sulky if we don't take him with us too.” He says, chuckling softly as he smirks, and you scoff as you smile then look at Seonhui. “Okay, yeah, why not?” You tell her and she jumps a little before hugging you. “Where's Jisung anyway?” Renjun asks. “I think he's taking out the trash.” You say after you take a look around and Seonhui confirms it. “I see, well, I guess I'll be wrapping up then and we can leave when he's back.”

~~~~~~~~

“Are we all drinking soju?” Renjun asks and everyone nods. “You can't drink, Jisung-ah.” Junn tells him as he chuckles and Jisung sighs. “I drank on Friday night though and it was much more dangerous then? Also I had to lick salt from other people's bodies?” He says and you gasp. “Omg, how are you alive?” You ask as you chuckle and he chuckles too. “I was too drunk for it to actually hurt.” He explains and you shake your head in disapproval but can't help laughing. “Pain is not what I was worried about...” You laugh. “Like, wow... You must be indestructible, there's no other explanation.” You say and Seonhui scoffs. “Or he's the luckiest guy in the world, his tongue should have fallen out by now if what he says is true.” She says and you agree. “Whatever, he's fine, I'm sad. Let's drink.” Renjun says, ending that conversation, and you all take your first shot of the night.

5 Soju shots later~ (For you)

“Okay, unnie, I've got a dare!” Seonhui exclaims after her 7th shot. “Yeah? Okay, go ahead.” You say and she giggles. “I dare unnie to peck oppa's lips~” She says, making you and Renjun scoff at the same time. Why do people always assume that there's something going on between you two? The amount of times someone would dare you two to kiss eachother while drinking is ridiculous. “Sure.” You say and Junnie shakes his head as you both come closer. “Here we go again.” He says, making you smile before quickly pecking your lips and taking another shot after. His phone buzzes a couple minutes after that, and his expression changes to a slightly worried one. “I should go.” He says, calmly throwing some cash at the table before standing up. Your heart beating a bit faster seeing his face after the text. “Renjun...” You call him. “Hyung...” Jisung too. “It's okay, I'll see you tomorrow.” He says but you all look pretty worried. “Agh, I promise. It's nothing.” He says, then he whispers something at you. “Okay.” You say, a bit less worried now, but a bit bummed you didn't get to talk about what you were supposed to talk about.

You take another shot as you all silently watch him go. “He's really okay guys. Don't worry.” You soothe them, pouring some more soju, and they finally let go after a bit.

Another 5 shots later~

“I'm gonna go outside for a minute.” Seonhui announces, checking her phone after her 12th shot and you simply nod, then watch Jisung move to sit closer to you. “Hey~” You sweetely say and he smiles. “Hey.” His body is touching yours now, making your heart beat faster with just that. “I'm guessing we won't be watching any movie tonight, right?” He asks and you chuckle. “Yeah, too much soju.” You say and he nods as he chuckles too. “Mhm, tomorrow then.” He says as his hand finds yours under the table, making your heart skip a beat as you blush lightly. “Unnie!!” Seonhui calls you, startling you and Jisung, and you both let go of your hands. “Y-Yes?” You reply, noticing someone new is standing next to her. “This is my girlfriend, Sarang.” She says and Jisung chuckles softly, happy to know that's the only reason she called you out. “Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” You say and Jisung nods. “Nice to meet you.” He says too and Sarang introduces herself again. “Okaay! Let's keep drinking!!” Seonhui happily says as she lightly pushes her girlfriend so she sits down.

3 Shots later~

“I don't think I know where my house is anymore.” You say as you drink a last shot and the others chuckle. “It's okay noona, I do know.” Jisung says and you scoff as you smile. “No, you don't.” You tell him, making everyone chuckle again. “No, I don't.” He admits. “It's okay guys, you can stay at my place.” Sarang says and Seonhui quickly agrees. “Yeah she lives like five minutes from here.” She adds as Sarang nods. “It's not like I'm not tipsy, but you were all already kinda drunk when I arrived so... Maybe we should just go now.” She says as she chuckles and you all agree.

Seonhui is practically asleep already when you reach Sarang's house, but no wonder, she drank more than any of you and you're kinda impressed by it, to be honest.

She's leaning on Jisung as Sarang opens the door. “Cute.” You say as you poke Seonhui's cheek and Jisung pouts making you chuckle softly. “You're cute too.” You say, softly pinching his cheek, and he gives you the cutest eye smile. “Come in~” Sarang says, leading the way.

Her house is big compared to others in the city. You have to stop a couple times to get Jisung who got distracted staring at random stuff on your way to the guest room, so you end up just holding his hand so he won't get lost. “You guys can sleep here, there's only one bed though.” She says. “And there was only one bed~” Seonhui teases, coming back from her stupor just to point that out, making you all chuckle. Then she announces she's going to bed herself before walking away. “Okay, well. There's blankets in the closet in case one of you wants to sleep in the living room instead.” Sarang explains and you and Jisung nod. “Good night then guys~ Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” She asks and you both thank her before she leaves the room.

There's a bit of a silence while you both stare at the bed before you realize you're still holding hands. “Oh... Sorry... You kept getting away...” You explain, letting his hand go and he chuckles, holding your hand back, lacing his fingers with yours. “I still could, noona.” He says and you scoff as you smile. “Right.” You say. Then you stare at him for a second before you pull from his arm softly so he leans over a bit. “You have something in your hair” You say, taking it off carefully as he watches you, and your eyes drift to his lips for a moment. He notices and smiles softly before coming closer, but you smirk and stop him with just a finger on his lips. “No kissing, remember?” You say before letting his hand go and turning around to get into bed. He tilts his head, confusedly watching you walk away as he bites on his labret. “Come here, dummy.” You call him, patting the bed so he'd join you and he sighs before walking over and getting into bed.

“Hey, you can sleep in the living room if you want.” You chuckle and he scoffs as he smiles. “You know I don't want to do that, noona.” He says, lying on his side right next to you. “You look bummed though.” You chuckle softly and he rolls his eyes as he bites a smile back. “Yeah, I'm kinda regretting getting my tongue pierced.” He says, making you laugh again. “Mhm, I'm kinda hating on you for it too.” You say and he scoffs again. “You could have stopped me.” He smiles and you bite your lips not to smile too. “I asked if you were sure~” You say and he silently gasps, making you giggle. “So that's what you meant when you asked...” He chuckles. “Yeah. I thought you may had someone you'd like to kiss.” You say and he smiles softly, looking down for your hand to hold. “I do.” He says, distractedly playing with your fingers before shyly looking at you.

You pull from him and he scooches closer. He softly brushes his nose against yours and you smile as he looks at your lips and then your eyes. “We can't.” You whisper and he nods. “I know.” He says in the same tone before ghosting his lips over yours. You can feel your heart racing everytime his lips slightly touch yours. God, you really want to kiss him. “Jisung...” You whine in yearning as his nose and lips caress your skin from the back of your ear to your neck, and his huge hands find a way to get under your shirt, resting on your waist for now. “Mhm?” He distractedly says before leaving a sweet bite on your shoulder to later kiss it. Your heart flutters as you softly tug from his hair while he pepper kisses your collarbone up to your neck.

What did you want to ask him? You don't even remember... He's unbuttoning your shirt now as you blush under his eyes, just enough to reveal your cleavage. “So pretty. Did you wear this for me, noona?” He teasingly asks as he lightly tugs from your lace bra, and you blush profusely as you purse your lips.

Cause he is right. You didn't actually think he'd get to see it tonight but... He is, indeed, absolutely right.

He chuckles softly at your silence and your rose cheeks, then leans over to peck your nose. “I love it.” He says and you look away, still blushing. “Mhm...” You say and he giggles as his hand distractedly finds his way back to your waist. “Are you shy, noona?” He asks and you scoff as you smile. “Ughh, stoop! Where is all this confidence of yours coming from?” You finally ask as you chuckle, jokingly pushing him away, and he smirks but blushes. “I don't know... Guess I'm just trying to distract myself from how bad I want to kiss you.” He confesses, a bit more nervous now that you've mentioned how shameless he was being, but making you blush lightly too with his answer anyway.

See? He can be shy (or not), but he'll say what he wants to say in any case.

You nod and comb his hair with your fingers before he tries to hide going back to nibble on your neck. But you cup his face with one of your hands so he looks at you instead. He rubs his cheek on your hand like a little cat before kissing it, and you smile at his cuteness. “What?” He asks, blushing lightly, and you chuckle softly. “Nothing, I... Really want to kiss you too.” You say and he gets immediately flustered. “Oof, don't say that.” He chuckles. “Why?” You ask and he sighs, unable to erase that smirk from his face. “Cause, I'll just give up and kiss you.” He says. “Noo, you can't do that. Your tongue will get infected and die.” You giggle and he scoffs as he smiles. “I don't care. Noona wants to kiss me. It's a big deal.” He says, making you smile. “Oh, is it? You like me that much? I hadn't noticed.” You teasingly say, and he rolls his eyes at you as he smiles. “I wasn't trying to hide it anyway.” He says, leaning over you, his lips so close to yours. “Yeah, like... At all.” You say, brushing your nose against his before you giggle and he rolls his eyes again. “Stop teasing me, noona... I get it, I was super obvious.” He says, unable to hide a smile, but you just chuckle at how adorable he is and he pouts a bit embarrassed. “Okay, I understand.” You say as you sweetely caress his cheek, but he keeps pouting. “It's okay... I like you a lot too.” You say before pecking his forehead as he blushes. "And I don't think I was so good at hiding it either." You say and he finally giggles. "You were good enough." He says before brushing his nose against yours and you chuckle softly. "Yeah?" You ask. "Mhm!" he exclaims, ghosting his lips over yours and you can't help but chasing them for a second before you stop yourself.

His eyes drift from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes again as your heart beats faster. There's too many thoughts going through your head right now. “Noona...” He suddenly calls you, taking you back to Earth as his lips come even closer. Awakening once again the butterflies in your stomach. “Just... A goodnight kiss.” He says, just centimeters away from your lips, and you can feel the heat growing inside you. “Please.” He begs, making your heart race. Why does he have to ask like that? He sounds so desperate, it makes you feel stuff.

His hand grasping on your waist once again, eagerly pulling you closer. You bite your lower lip as you try to keep inside the rush of sensations and emotions you're feeling right now. “Noona...” He calls again as his hand climbs a little higher. “Ah~ Okay..” You say, giving up almost in a moan, and he doesn't wait another minute to meet your lips. Breathing you in while he's at it.

Your heart skips a beat as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, and you use the entirety of your will to pull away from that kiss. “J-Jisung...” You call him, kinda breathless, but he simply looks at you a bit confused, catching up his breath too. Guess your hearts were really racing just now and you still have to catch up. “Ah... Sorry.” He apologizes and you tilt your head. “I really forgot about why we can't kiss for a moment.” He chuckles softly, pulling a smile out of you too. “Are you serious?” You ask and he nods. “I don't believe you one bit.” You laugh and he does too. “Okay, maybe I didn't forget. But you were the one to chase my lips anyway.” He admits and you bite your lip not to smile as you roll your eyes at him. “You really want your tongue to get infected, huh?” You ask and he chuckles as he shakes his head. “You're just a bit like a drug noona. I want your kisses even if they're bad for me right now.” He explains and you scoff. “What am I supposed to say to that?” You ask and he laughs again. “That you'll kiss me anyway so I don't suffer from withdrawal.” He says. “I won't!” You chuckle and he pouts for a second before talking normally again. “Ya, ya~ Wait. Hear me out, noona.” He says and you raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “There's going to be a lot of pouting happening if I don't get goodnight kisses from now on.” He says and you can't help but chuckle. “Is that so?” You ask and he nods. “So you can't take those away from me.” He adds. You think about it for a second then sigh and caress his cheek. “Okay. I'll kiss you good night before saying good bye every night.” “And hello.” He demands and you chuckle. “Jisung, of course you can kiss me hello too." You giggle."As long as they're pecks it's fine, okay? You just can't use your tongue, dummy.” You explain and he chuckles. “I know, I'm sorry for earlier. I'll be good from now on noona, I promise.” He says and you sigh. “Okay, I believe you.” You say and he smiles. “Maybe you should kiss me just to prove to me that you can be good, though.” You tell him and he scoffs as he smiles but he comes closer. “Mhm, I'll take my goodnight kiss now, then.” He says as he leans over and you nod before meeting his lips. “I want mine too.” You say, kissing him again and he smiles on the kiss. “Guess you're kind of a drug to me too.” You whisper, making him chuckle softly. “Mhm~” He says, and you can just tell how happy he is right now. So cute. “Night Jisungie.” You say, pecking his lips once again, and he sweetely brushes his nose against yours before kissing you a last time. “Night noona. Sleep well.” Chap 2🐹......Chap4🐹

[somewhereinthepines]

Happy New Year! I hope it has been treating you well so far. I come to you with another ask, possibly the first of the year? Lol.

In an old ask, you said that Chris in GP is more of a creeper (vouyer, etc), and that after what Ryan is gonna do next, what Chris does that is already creepy will no longer be harmless. And it's had me thinking for a long time, like, dang, that is ominous, and what does it mean. I know you're busy with things and invested in other fandoms, which is why I appreciate you still answering my asks about GP. So, ik you don't wanna give it away, so without spoiling what's to come, how is Chris's creepy habits/behaviours gonna evolve?

It's just really interesting to me how you write him, as he's really complex, and us not seeing his perspective this time makes him even more interesting. So it got me wondering how he's gonna be when the jig (well, part of it) is up. I know you said before that he wouldn't feel so threatened by Dylan anymore, and they couldn't be an open/normal couple for reasons. But like...I've just been thinking here, about how different things might be between them once they are both on the same page. How Chris will evolve and Ryan too. Like you said, he isn't rlly as 'good' as he lets Chris believe. I remembered that one au idea you mentioned one time, about Ryan being jealous of Dyan/others that he thinks are Chris's new faves. It got me thinking that maybe Ryan will maybe get comfy admitting a thing or two to Chris. Something tells me he isn't gonna be as shy as he was in ASB, haha.

It got me imagining a scene of them in bed, maybe just waking up, maybe both just laying there, and Ryan could be curled around Chris and just quietly admits that he gets jealous thinking of non-existant competition, lol. Like, the thought of Chris being pursued or shown interest by someone else makes Ryan jealous, and he doesn't like it. GP Chris seems the more likely to accept that info, and maybe feel satisfaction with it? Bcs as you'd said, once Ryan shows him proof that he wants Chris not Dyan, then he's secure bcs Ryan chose him. So it's maybe a lil treat for him, yk since he's been so bothered by Dylan before. It's just a small silly imagine, kinda like one of Ryan's first awkward attempts at pillow talk, haha.

He just puts it out there after a bit, his hand on Chris's chest and all. This is random, but I love that you described Ryan in chap 1 sneaking a look at his chest hair peeking out his shirt. And just admiring him as a whole, knowing that he's being kinda weird about it in his head. Our guy is down bad for real, I love that detail, tho. Man's is obsessed. And I love that even with Chris's hidden nature just under the surface, Ryan is still like 'Yeah, I'm still on board...he's kinda being weird, and it's bothering me a bit...but that's still my man." I'm looking forward to seeing what Ryan does and how that's gonna go down with Chris. I know he's gotta be having a midlife crisis in his office after Ryan's snooping. I'm also loving the wolf patterns peeking through. It's both interesting, thrilling, and creepy to see from him.

I'd say sorry for the long ramble ask, but I think we're past that, lmao. In 2024, I accept my fate of long-winded rambles just being a thing I'll always do, haha.

heya! and a happy new year to you too! i also hope, that it treats you well! as for me, i’m fine! kinda working on things between the jobs and such, haha. and yeah, your ask is the first one! i will take this as a good omen. i love your asks! i honestly think that a detailed review or question is the highest praise and treat an author can get! 

and oh don’t worry, i do love asks about supermassive! and i do love asks about chris/ryan, even if i’m currently invested in other pairs/fandoms. like, how do i say it? i guess, that i mostly just collect all my fav things into one big mental basket, so technically i don’t lose love or interest for them, merely letting them lie there for time being, while i’m playing with some other characters and setups. i guess, i’m kind of person, who if they fall in love with some narratives or elements of certain characters/ships, i just sorta keep returning to them, when i feel a flicker of interest beckoning me back to them. 

but anyways! i’d say, that GP not only explores the darker underbelly of chris’s nature, but it also applies to ryan as well. they’re a perfect match in my head for a reason, haha. i suppose, that everything that i ever shipped can be broken down to the notion of how they can make one another better, but how they also can make one another worse. in GP, chris and ryan are pretty much about to do the latter, haha. but as for chris, specifically, well, he’s still trying to be somewhat decent, but he’s also kind of a man, who's at the end of his rope, so to speak. things don’t go all that great for him, and that one good thing, that he has is just endlessly tempting and ‘messing’ with him (from his perspective). it’s hard for him to not see this as an ‘invitation’ to continue his inappropriate behavior, even if he himself knows that it’s just an excuse. but it’s all the excuse that he needs at this point, really. just not be met with disgust or downright fear. and naturally, since ryan knows no better, he doesn’t view chris’s behavior as smth, that is absolutely hideous and dangerous. nope. ryan just being ryan, so he’s confused and kinda annoyed at worst. it’s basically the same as dangling a piece of fresh meat in front of a hungry wolf, and be surprised, when it snaps its jaw, not even around the piece of meat, but the wrist of a person, who holds it. it doesn’t want the meat, it wants the one who brought the meat, bc they’re a tease. what i’m trying to say, is that while in ASB chris was somewhat alright with taking things slow, and he wanted them slow for ryan’s sake, in GP, he can no longer be satisfied with just some rutting and a kiss or two. considering this, he also won’t be alright with just looking either. and you expect this kind of aggressive pushiness from emma or whoever else, when they were on the verge of becoming a werewolf, but it’s mostly bc of idk, they’re young, i guess. no one there had an esp fucked up backstory or whatever. well, maybe laura, bc she was kept hostage by a man, who was weird toward her, and she got her eye clawed out, but it’s also all low-key her own fault in a way lol. in comparison to all those examples, chris is a man with messed up childhood, messy adulthood, and bunch of uncatered needs (considering we follow my fanon, where he’s pretty much a closeted dude and was this for years). it is scary to picture what his aggression will look like lol. like in private. toward a person he loves and pins for. but who for a change pins back. 

and yeah, part of why GP is ryan-centric, bc it is so much more tense and confusing to not know what chris thinking. he’s a ‘weird’, predatory dude in this, and it surely would have put one more in ease, if they knew what he’s really thinking and why he does what he does. but since the reader shares experience with ryan in this one, there is a lot of that confusion. sure, we know things that ryan doesn’t, but concerning chris himself….well, it’s still a dark spot for everyone. but then again, if we flip the tables, just like in ASB, chris might be just as unsure about wtf ryan is doing or why. and as things progress, i think that he will find himself taken aback by certain stuff, that ryan capable of, bc he’d never suspected him to be anything, but that awkward shy boy, that kinda relies on him for advice. 

considering, the admission of jealousy, i can see chris being surprised by it, bc it never occurred to him, that ryan can even be worried about such a thing. i suppose, inside chris’s own head, ryan being his only ever favorite is just so cemented and natural, that he never pictured anyone else in his place. so if anything, ryan prob be the one more satisfied here, haha. tho if chris admitted, that he was jealous of dylan, ryan would also be like ‘lol why’. he never saw dylan in that light. then yeah, chris be like ‘oh, okay’ and smile, bc it’s nice to know that they’re on the same page. so stupidly committed to one another, that they both wouldn't even notice, if other people showed interest in them. also i picture, that ryan’s pillow talk won’t be much better, than his flirting skills. like, he was that pushy in ASB bc he literally have no idea how to be ‘sneaky’ or graceful about showing someone, that he fancies them. honestly, when i write characters attempting to be seductive, they either got it or they do not. i mean, some people know how to throw a rock at the water and make it do that bouncy thingy, which is pretty smooth and elegant. others would just throw that rock into the water, and create a splash, and that’s pretty much it, haha. maybe, not as impressive, but perhaps, at times more effective. ryan is kinda the latter type. he just does a thing, and chris has to stand there and deal with it. but to be fair, out of all characters who i ever written, ryan doesn’t have the worst flirting skills. or even the worst ways to get attention / get his feelings to be known. in fact, compared to some, he prob a freaking guru at this, haha. 

oh, i’m glad that you liked that lusty bit, haha. i kinda wanted to show right away, that i imagine ryan to be generally into older males, not boys of his own age. like compared to that hairy chest, mainly build and muscle, dylan has nothing to show with his baby features. but considering how ryan is in GP, dylan should count it his blessing, that ryan not interested in him for a few reasons. one of which would have prob gotten him killed. and yeah, ryan is canonically obsessed with chris tbh, i just took it to a new level, haha. if ryan wasn’t all that shaken up by piling up corpses, somehow still insisting, that mister h have nothing to do with it…..well, that guy was already a lost case! now, he’s just like well, yeah, intuitively knows that smth is a ref flag, but still digs it. as for chris, his life just gets harder and harder by day lmao. 

and ah, no problem, honestly! in a way, i always feel better, when someone talks as much as i do, bc i know that it won’t bother them as much. i know some folks be like ‘wow, wall of text, nope’. but i love wall of text! i talk in walls of text and it’s kinda a mystery to me how someone would not do that, esp if they’re passionate or interested in subject. 

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.l.

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

_______________

~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” Waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh… What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. Faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” She stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate in sight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” Taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm… If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now… What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” He turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. Various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them… Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoth's home.”

Of course it is. “Oh… Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” Other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” His voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. “Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days.” Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them…”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” She hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” He nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoth's got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

[backtothestart02]

Do You Have My Number? - 3/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: So inspired for this fic, so here's another chap! Enjoy!

...

Chapter 3 -

Around nine p.m. the following evening, Barry emerged from his bedroom after spending a good couple hours packing up his things in his closet. He still had a week and a half to get through everything, but he figured packing the small things he rarely used wouldn’t hurt. He hadn’t touched anything the day before, too consumed with work and Iris and Cisco kicking him out unmercifully to bother with packing. But today he made a point of doing something, so Cisco wouldn’t get on his nerves. Said nerves were already shattered enough for one week.

“Hey,” Cisco said, popping some pizza pockets into the microwave. “You want some of these?”

Barry wrapped his hand around the back of his head and nodded.

“Uh, sure. Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Barry stood awkwardly in the kitchen before finally moving into the living room and plopping down on the couch, waiting for the microwave to beep. He hated that Cisco always let it beep and didn’t stop it before the last second went off. Something he could look forward to not having to put up with once he lived alone, he guessed.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He rolled his eyes but shrugged his off, smiling half-heartedly when Cisco brought the plate in and set it on the coffee table.

“Bet you won’t miss that,” Cisco said, mimicking the sound the microwave had made.

Barry chuckled.

“I’ll miss it a little,” he admitted.

They shared a smile and both grabbed a pizza pocket, promptly spitting them out simultaneously when they were too hot for either of them to eat.

They both grimaced and then smiled at each other. Surprisingly, beats later Cisco sobered up.

“Listen, Barry, about you moving out…”

Barry tensed up.

“I’m sorry I was so rough about it, like I was shoving you out the door…like our friendship doesn’t mean anything to me when really, it means the world.”

Barry looked down at the floor, Iris momentarily forgotten.

“So, why did you do it? Did Cindy make you do it?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. The moving in was my idea.”

Barry frowned.

“Then I don’t-”

“Wait. Just…hold on.”

He got up, dashed into his room, then came out holding a small box that fit in the palm of his hand. Barry’s eyes widened when he saw it was made of velvet.

“Is that…what I think it is?”

Cisco wait till he sat back down, then handed it over to Barry. Sure enough, when Barry opened it a brilliant diamond ring sparkled up at him.

“Wow. I…I don’t know what to say. Congrats, man. I always knew you were crazy in love, but this is on another level.” He closed the box and handed it back.

“Yeah. And I was going to propose, I really was. Get the two of us our own place, and then you could stay here. But Cindy made an offhand comment a couple months ago about how she was nowhere near ready for marriage. I had already bought the ring by then, so there was no going back, at least for me. But she did say she wouldn’t be opposed to moving in with someone as a next step. She said it as if she meant someone else, but the last few weeks she kept dropping hints, kept staying longer when she was over and not wanting to leave, even commented on how much better our shower is than hers.”

Barry scrunched up his nose. He hated their shower.

Cisco noticed and laughed.

“Yeah, exactly. So, I knew something was up. When I asked her hesitantly if she wanted to move in together, she triumphantly exclaimed how she was glad I’d picked up on all her hints to live here.”

“Ah. And you didn’t ask her to clarify?”

“No, no, I did. She went on to say how despite loving you as a friend, she really wanted this to be our space, as in hers and mine. I didn’t know what to say to that, but I was just so glad she was down with getting more serious that I let it lie.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve known you longer, and it wasn’t fair to just…demand you leave like it was nothing.”

“Thanks, Cisco. I really appreciate that.” He smiled faintly. “But, as it turns out, it may be for the best.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Well, having my own place will certainly make it easier to have dates over.”

Cisco snorted.

“Since when have you even tried to bring dates home? I mean, it’s been months, hasn’t it? If not over a year?”

“Well…” he squeaked.

“Unless there’s someone now that you happen to fancy,” he joked, but Barry’s eyes locked on his. “No. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.”

“What?” Barry asked, confused…sort of.

Cisco shot up the same time as his phone rang in his pocket.

“You cannot bang Iris!”

Barry’s jaw dropped. He went to protest, to say he wanted to do so much more than just have sex with her, but the ringing phone got to them both, and he gestured for Cisco to answer.

Cisco looked at the screen and laughed sardonically.

“Speaking of…” He showed Barry the screen, which showed the name ‘IRIS’ in big capital letters. “Hey, Iris, what’s up?”

“I can’t see Barry anymore,” Iris said on the other end.

“What?! Why?” he asked suspiciously, spinning around to give Barry a nasty glare.

“What does she say about me?” Barry got up and scurried over, nearly tripping over the coffee table.

Cisco waved him off.

“Not as a client, at least,” Iris continued. “It’s too unprofessional.”

“What did he do to you?” Cisco demanded, and Barry scoffed.

“Nothing!” Iris screeched.

“Then, why do you want to drop him?”

Barry’s heart sank. Cisco couldn’t take the puppy dog eyes and Iris’ insistence at the same time, so he locked himself in his bedroom and focused on Iris.

“It’s just I…” She sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m attracted to him, Cisco.”

“Oh, good lord,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

There are two of them.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He continued in denial. “I don’t understand, Iris. Surely you’ve had clients you were attracted to before.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And you were still able to do your job.”

“Yes, but-”

“So what’s the difference this time?”

“I don’t know. It’s never been this…intense before.”

“Did he come on to you?” he accused.

“Sort of? Not deliberately, I’m sure. Though he did ask me to get lunch with him between seeing properties.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“I don’t know if that counts though,” she defended. “He’s probably not even into me.”

Cisco snorted.

“Oh, he’s into you.”

“He is?” She could hardly catch her breath. “How do you know that? Did he tell you?”

He groaned, hating being caught in the middle of this hornball fest.

“What I mean is, you’re hot, Iris. What guy isn’t into you?”

“Oh.” She deflated, but he felt only slightly bad. “Well, he could be different.”

“He’s not. Trust me. He’s a guy with eyes and sometimes a brain. They all want you.”

She got defensive.

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“All I’m saying is that you should view Barry as if he’s any other guy. You’re a professional. Hell, you’re Iris Ann West. You can handle anything that comes your way, even someone named Bartholomew Henry Allen.”

“Bartholomew?” She giggled. “That’s funny. I’ll have to tease him about that.”

“No,” he cut in. “No teasing.”

“Right. No teasing.” She shook her head. “Nope, can’t do it, Cisco, I’m sorry.”

“You have to tease him that badly?”

“Tease him, flirt, fantasize…” She sighed. “I want him, Cisco.”

He groaned and fell back on his bed.

“Just,” she grumbled. “Tell him I’ve referred him to my co-worker, Sue. She’s excellent, and she’ll have all his notes and the properties I was planning on showing him tomorrow. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“And what’ll you do?” he asked. “March over here for a one-night stand?”

She gasped, scandalized at the suggestion.

“Cisco!”

“Well?”

“No. Absolutely not. I…I will wait till he’s gotten moved into a new apartment and then I’ll find an excuse to get invited over. I will not be a booty call.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” she asked pointedly, firmly, accusingly.

“Nothing. Okay, fine. I’ll tell him he’s to see Sue…?”

“Dearbon.”

“Dearbon. Okay. Fine. But seriously, Iris, get your shit together. It’s one man. It shouldn’t mess up your whole professional life.”

“Goodbye, Cisco. And thank you.”

Click.

He sighed, got up and opened the door to the same sad puppy dog eyes he’d left behind in the living room.

“She doesn’t want me?”

…

The next morning, Iris sat at her desk in her high-ceiling, large-windows office that Barry Allen loved so much and stared at the number one on her answering machine, praying it wasn’t from one Barry Allen.

Since he and Cisco still lived together, she imagined Cisco had shared something of the situation with him, but she didn’t know how much, and she was afraid to find out.

Besides, she knew she’d cave the second he started begging her to take him back as a client.

Her hand was lifted in mid-air when Sue waltzed in through her open doorway and plopped down on the other side of the desk a coffee in each hand, one for each of them.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Iris winced and accepted the coffee graciously.

“Not exactly. Just a matter of the heart and the profession.”

Sue frowned.

“Is this about that Barry Allen case you wanted me to take over that you refuse to tell me why?” She sipped at her coffee.

Iris cringed.

“Maybe.” She leaned back in her chair and drummed the arms with her fingertips. “I didn’t tell him directly.”

“That’s not like you.”

“I told his roommate.”

“Still not like you.”

“And I’m afraid the one message I have is for him begging me to take him back – as a client.”

Sue squinted.

“Why do you say ‘as a client’?”

Iris gulped.

“What would you be instead? A friendly neighbor?” She joked. “Or…” She watched Iris avoid eye contact, and the dots fused into a solid line. “Oh my god, you want to fuck this guy.”

“Shhh!!!”

She got up and closed the door to her office before sitting back down.

“We are at work right now! People could overhear!”

Sue looked amused and languidly sipped more of her beverage.

“Yes, but you’re acting like a horny teenager, not the professional realtor we all know and love.”

Iris sighed.

“He’s just…a guy. I’ve handled guys before. Guys that got too handsy – out, guys that were rude to my face – out. But if this guy, if this Bartholomew Henry Allen,” Sue blinked in continued amusement. “If he tells me to take him back, I will do it, and I will ruin my career in the process.”

Sue laughed and uncrossed her knees to lean forward.

“I don’t think you’ll be ruining anything. Listen to the message.”

“But I-”

“Listen to it.”

She blew out a sharp exhale and pressed the big round button for messages on her phone.

“Hey, Iris, it’s me, Barry. Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I just feel like I need to apologize for the other day. It was unprofessional of me to come on to you, and I promise if you give me another chance and just help me find an apartment, you’ll never hear from me again. Just think about it.”

Beep.

“End of messages. To delete-”

Iris pressed the message to delete it, so she wouldn’t have to listen to it again.

Sue raised her eyebrows.

“That’s decisive.”

“Well, I had to make a decision.”

“Now you just have to call him back and tell him you won’t be taking him back on.”

“What?!”

Sue smiled, standing back up.

“It’s what the professional in you would do.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Let me know if you still want me to take him,” she said, opening Iris’ office door. “I’ll be in my office.”

She whistled on her way down the hall, sing-songing to Jerry, another realtor who worked across the hall from her, on her way.

Iris leaned back in her chair and groaned. Then, she flipped through Barry’s file until she found his cell phone number. Having found it, she got up to close her office door once more and put the phone on speaker after dialing said number. Then she crossed her fingers and prayed that he wouldn’t pick up, so she could just leave a message and that would be that.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she cheered, preparing her message-leaving voice.

She cleared her throat, and then-

“Iris?”

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 3

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Third chap, here we go! It’ll start picking up soon. I know there isn’t much ‘horror’ rn, but it will get there, I promise. Also, I’m sorry Tamaki’s part is a bit longer than Hawks. I just adore Tamaki so much and he deserves the world and lots of hugs and kithes.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing. More to come.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

You peek over your clipboard to see his cocky smirk and hide your eyes again. "Keigo, would you please put on a shirt?"

He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows. "What, too embarrassed to look at me, baby bird? I'll tell you what. You tell me who you are, and if you're single, and I'll cover myself."

"My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist in this facility, here to observe you, hoping it helps to find a cure. And there is no need for you to know my relationship status."

"Ah, ah, ah. If you don't tell me, you'll have to do this interview while gazing at my gorgeous body." You hear the cockiness in his voice.

"I swear to fu- fine, yes I'm currently happily single. Now, please put your shirt on." You mumble under your breath, "this is so inappropriate."

After a minute of rustling, Keigo leans back onto his bed. "Okay, my single baby bird. I'm all covered up for you."

You lower your clipboard just below your eyes to make sure, seeing the smirking bird man lounging on his bed with a shirt on. You finally lower your clipboard all the way before giving a curt nod. Making your way to the desk chair, you smile at the man.

"Thank you, Keigo. As I said before, my name is Y/N and I'm here to get to know you."

He snickers, "well, I'm here to answer any questions you have for me, baby bird. Fire away."

You sigh and open your notebook. "Must you call me such a name?"

"Awe, do you not like when I call you that?"

Sighing once more, you decide to just move on. You know you'll end up going in circles. "Please state your full name, age and date of birth for me."

"My name is Keigo Takami. I'm 28 years old. My birthday is December 28th." He paused to let you write that down before opening his mouth again. "Did you need my star sign and my relationship status? Well, I'm a Capricorn and I am definitely sin-"

"Nope, that's enough." You cut him off before he could ramble on even more. "Now, can you tell me what your quirk is exactly?"

Keigo blinks before turning around, the chains on his ankles clanking against the bed frame. Your eyes light up being able to actually see the giant, beautiful red bird wings coming from his back. You frowned slightly noticing they were pinned down, preventing him from being able to use them.

"Does that hurt? Having them pinned like that?" You tilt your head eyes following the edges of each feather.

Keigo lets out a quiet chuckle, eyeing you from over his shoulder. "A little. But nothing I can't handle. Why, is my baby bird worried about little ole me?"

Your frown turns into a glare and you clear your throat. "So, what exactly can you do with these wings of yours?"

Keigo's mouth twitches into a smirk as he turns back around to face you. "Well, I can fly. And I can also disconnect each feather from my wings and use them individually."

You nod, not wanting to show how impressed you were, knowing he'd make a crack at it. You finish writing down that information before asking your next question. "Now, can you tell me why you are here?"

"Getting down to the nitty-gritty, I see. Well, I was arrested and charged with Drug Trafficking, Forgery and Assault." You look at him, motioning him to continue. He shrugs. "There isn't much else to it. I'm a mafia leader. This shit happens on a daily basis, for years. Just so happened that I eventually got caught, on account of a leak in my group. Fortunately, for me, I use other people to do the killing for me. So that means they couldn't get me with murder." He cocks his head. "Unfortunately, though, trafficking and forgery are also felonies, so. That's why I'm here."

"So you spent your life moving copious amounts of drugs, forging money and assaulting clients who did you wrong?"

Keigo thinks about your words for a moment and nods. "Essentially, yes."

"Alright then." You stand up and bow your head to the mafia leader who was watching you carefully. "I will take my leave, as I have one more inmate to see before the end of my shift." You head towards the door, but pause for a moment. "Oh, and Keigo?" You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "Your wings are beautiful."

Keigo's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly, watching you walk out that door. His face turns bright red after processing your words. He mutters under his breath, "oh, baby bird…"

After shutting the door behind you, you breathe out. Aizawa looks up from his phone. "How'd it go?"

You raise a brow, "what, you weren't watching me through the security cameras like before?"

"Oh, I was," he deadpanned. "But, visually, it didn't look as compromising as the last two visits. The cameras don't pick up audio."

"Well, besides the lack of clothing in the beginning and the incessant flirting, I was pleasantly surprised."

Aizawa looked at his watch. "Now, I think we have time for one more before we have to turn in paperwork and unchain the more dangerous inmates from their beds to give them some room to stretch out." Aizawa flips through the profiles before stopping on one. "How about Amajiki?"

You turn to his profile and scan the words in front of you. "A cannibal, huh. Well that's not something you see every day."

"I think he'd be good to end the day with. Despite him being, well, a cannibal, he's actually extremely reserved and quite timid. I don't think he'd try to hurt you or get close to you. He suffers from borderline personality disorder, as you see." Aizawa looks up from his notes and eyes you. "However, he is a level 10. He may come across as innocent and somewhat angelic, but remember, he is one of the most dangerous criminals in this facility. He has multiple murders under his belt. So just keep that in mind."

You nod your head, slightly bouncing with excitement. This one sounds quite interesting to you. You've never met a cannibal before and this one has a quirk that sounds intriguing. Aizawa sighs before turning away from Hawk's door and heading further down the long hallway. He stops in front of a heavy door and scans you in.

Once you step inside the white room, you furrow your brows, not really noticing anyone. That's when you hear a small whimper and a few muffled, stuttered words coming from the floor next to the bed.

"W-Who are you?"

You lean to the side to see an indigo-haired figure huddled against the wall between the desk and the bed. You notice his body is trembling, only his eyes visible through his bangs, his arms covering the rest of his face. Head tilted, you squat down from a distance and smile.

"Hi there, Amajiki. My name is Y/N. I'm the newest scientist at this facility. I'm here to talk to you and get to know you to help further our findings for a cure. I'd like to be friends, if that's possible." You reply gently. You can tell he's scared out of his mind.

He raises his head up, giving you a full view of his…

Muzzle?

"F-friends?"

Your eyes widen slightly. The bottom half of Amajiki's face, from his nose to under his chin, is completely covered by a silver muzzle. It's strapped around his head and locked in place by a padlock. Your eyes travel down to see his wrists chained together with quirk cancelling cuffs and, as you expected, both of his ankles are chained to the heavy duty bed frame.

"They have you muzzled like that?" You stare in disbelief, slightly angered at the treatment. You understand that he's a known cannibal, but to strap that heavy muzzle around his head on top of chains already weighing him down.

Amajiki nods shyly, "y-yeah. I guess it's because of the whole e-eating people… thing."

You sit yourself down on the floor across from him, your notes in your lap. "Is it uncomfortable?" He nods slowly, his eyes avoiding yours. You give him a small smile. "I'm sorry."

His eyes shoot to yours, confusion flashing through them. "Why are you sorry?"

"It...seems like a lot of you are possibly being mistreated here. I've noticed a few things here and there."

Amajiki's brows furrow. "And why should you care? W-We're criminals."

"True. However, this facility isn't supposed to be judge, jury and executioner. You're entitled to a fair trial, just like everyone else. That includes not being mistreated." Your smile never leaves your face as you look the man in the eyes. "I am not only here to research a cure, but make sure in doing so, it won't harm any of you. It'll be humane, I promise." Amajiki just stares at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh and click your pen. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Amajiki?" He shakes his head but stays quiet.

"Can you please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

"U-um. Tamaki Amajiki, 25, March 4th."

"Thank you. And what is your quirk?"

Amajiki hugs his knees tighter. "I-It's called Manifestation. Essentially, whatever I eat and digest, I can manifest as a body part."

Your leg bounces in excitement. "So, if you were to eat, let's say, Takoyaki, you can turn your hand into tentacles?" He nods his head. Your eyes light up. "That is incredible, Amajiki. That's such a powerful quirk!"

Amajiki's eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks that were partially hidden under his muzzle. This is the first time he's ever been thankful to have this thing attached to his face. "U-um, t-thanks."

You let out a soft giggle and continue writing in your notes. "Here's a little bit more of a difficult question, Amajiki. Can you please tell me why you are incarcerated in this facility?"

Amajiki stays quiet, not looking at you. You notice his hesitation. You think for a moment before looking around the room. Amajiki sneaks a glance at you, watching you look around the room. His brows furrow. "W-What are you…"

You finally spot the locations of the camera and move your body so your back was facing it. Ignoring his question, you place your pen down directly in front of you so only Amajiki can see. You furrow your brows in concentration and stick your tongue out as you hover your hand over your pen. To Amajiki's utter shock, the pen starts floating in the air.

"Y-You have a quirk?!"

You nod your head and release the pen from your power. "Yeah, I do. It's nothing fancy like yours, but it is a mutation, nonetheless. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who understands more of your situation than you might think. So that's why I wanted to show you." You smile at the man, who is looking at you with pure adoration. "Please, keep this to yourself. I don't know what Aizawa would do if he found out about it." 

"I-I won't tell anyone, I promise."

You giggle and sit back down in your original spot. "Thank you. Now, can you please tell me why you're in this facility?"

He nods his head, still slightly dazed about this new-found information. "I was charged with multiple counts of 1st degree murder a-and…" his voice drops to a whisper, "s-serial cannibalism."

You couldn't help your interest in the subject and started rambling. "Would you be so kind as to explain how this came about? Did you grow up into a family of cannibals or-"

"NO!" He lashes out, causing you to flinch slightly. He winces as your reaction, not intending to scare you. "N-no. Nothing like that. It happened… against my will, so to say?" Amajiki sighs and rests his chin on his arms, not meeting your eyes. "I was one of the only kids in my small town to have been born with a mutation. My parents tried to hide it, tried to hide me. I don't know if it was from fear of people hurting me or fear of everyone judging them for having me."

He blinks a few times before continuing. "The town I lived in was small, a bad side to say the least. Lots of low-lifes and gangs running around. Well, long story short, someone found out about me and what my quirk was. They kidnapped me and…" He trails off. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to yours, an uncomfortable and intense feeling overwhelming you. "They forced me to eat another person, someone with a quirk. They wanted to see if I could turn their power into my own."

He cocks his head and lets out a cackle, still making eye contact with you. "Can you believe that?! It actually worked! So what did they do? They forced me to eat ANOTHER quirk user. They wanted to turn me into an ultimate weapon." Amajiki lets out a strange noise, sounding like a mixture between a guttural sob and a laugh. "Well, the joke was on them in the end. I ended up killing and eating them in the end and escaping. But after that point, something mutated further in my quirk. I couldn't stop craving human flesh." He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "A-And that's why I'm here now."

Your eyes are wide and your breath is heavy. Something inside you feels a sense of panic, looking at the clearly broken man in front of you. It's so much information to take in, you stay quiet for awhile, your body on high alert. Amajiki notices how quiet you are and he opens his eyes. He notices a terrified look on your face and internally panics.

"W-Wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I-I'm not going to hurt you." He finally moves out from his huddled form and kneels instead, the sound of chains clinking together snapping you out of it. "I-I would n-never hurt you." He whispers the last part, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

You clear your throat after taking a few deep breaths. "T-Thank you for telling me this, Amajiki. It was really brave of you to relive those experiences." You look at him and notice the fear and concern in his face. Giving him a small smile, you close your notebook. "I'm fine, I promise." You stand up on shaky legs and bow your head. "I need to get going."

Amajiki quickly stands up, making you slightly flinch again, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "Y-You're leaving already? Will I get to see you again?"

"You will. I'm an employee here now, so I'll be the one to check up on all the inmates and work on everyone's individual sessions." You turn your back and walk to the door. "I'll see you later, Amajiki."

The indigo-haired man watches you walk through his door, longing written across his face. The only thing running through his mind are thoughts of the pretty telekinesis that made his heart race.

Once out the door, Aizawa meets you in the hallway. "How'd it go with the man-eater?"

You scowl at the doctor. "Why do you say things like that? He has a name."

"He's a criminal, Y/N. They're all criminals. Shouldn't matter what we call them." He rolls his eyes. "Just come with me. We have to finish our paperwork before the end of the day."

You grumble under your breath but follow the tired-looking doctor to his office. "You also need to prepare yourself for tomorrow. You will be meeting Kaminari, Midoriya, Shinso, Bakugo, Todoroki, Dabi and Kai. And 5 out of the 7 are level 8 and above."

~~~

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