#his treatment and roped one of his old students into helping him do it which would be jesse + walt became a REALLY terrible person over the

[mad-hunts]

sender and receiver cuddle while watching television @question-marked

after going nearly a week without seeing each other, barton was pretty excited to see edward today. therefore, once dinner was made and the both of them had eaten, the first suggestion he'd made was that they should cuddle. and thank god his boyfriend agreed to it. barton had had some rather monotonous days this week, which by itself wasn't overly bad, but they were also tiring; making the fact that all he wanted to do at this point being to just relax and watch a tv show with edward understandable.

and that brings us to now, with the both of them sitting next to each other. barton had also angled to the side so that he could swing his legs on top of the other's lap. he hummed underneath his breath as he scooted just a bit closer to edward, ❝ okay, so i think that if i were to pick my favorite character so far out of all of them in this show — it would have to be jesse. because i don't know about you, but after everything that has happened so far? he seems to be the only person who's good at heart in this whole criminal underworld they've got. ❞

barton's eyes darted off of the show they were watching (breaking bad) before trailing up to look at edward, ❝ i mean, he has done bad things. i think you also have to take into account how walt has heavily manipulated him at the same time however... and how he's realized how much pain his actions have put people in. though anyways, the real reason why i'm talking about this is because i wanted to ask you: who is your favorite? ❞

[brain-deadx0]

Blood in the Water

Summary: Virgil is kidnapped for ransom, but when his captors don't get what they want they decide to get rid of him.

Characters: human Virgil, mer Logan, oc villain

Warnings: Kidnapping, restraints, hostage, injury of a main character, implied torture, attempted murder, drowning mention, near drowning, noncon kissing(?)/mouth to mouth, knife, uh… let me know?

 Virgil had never given much thought to his father. Sure as a kid he thought the man was cool as hell. But he was more like that rich uncle you never see who sends you cool toys on Christmas and your birthday. 

 As he got older he came to realize this but didn't care all that much. Sure he thought he would've liked to have an actual relationship with the guy, until he got old enough to realize his mom was the only one who was actually supporting him and paying the bills. So he decided the guy wasn't worth it anyway since despite all the money he seemed to have he never tried to help out. 

 Virgil knew his father was a bastard. 

 Virgil thought he was simply a rich yet deadbeat dad up until his mom got sick. The two had never once asked him for anything, but when Virgil was a broke college student who couldn't afford the growing medical bills he reached out. Hoping that if nothing else the man would help pay for her treatment. 

 He didn't even go to the funeral. 

 So yes. Virgil knew his father was a bastard. He just didn't realize how much of one he actually was. 

 Virgil was currently tied to a chair on what he could only assume was a boat. Or at least he hoped it was a boat or else his concussion was worse than he thought. 

 He didn't bother testing the restraints. He was too tired at this point and every attempt before had ended in pain. 

 He didn't even know why these people had suddenly grabbed him off the street and shoved him into a trunk. Sure his estranged father was rich or something but it's not like either of them had been in contact for years. Virgil didn't even get gifts anymore since his mom died and he told the man to not even bother. 

 He really hoped these people didn't actually know who he was because if they tried to ransom him he was definitely going to die. 

 The sound of the door slamming open startled him from his thoughts. 

 Virgil glared despite the new ball of anxiety sitting heavy in his stomach. 

 "So," a man in a pristine white suit said as he walked through the door, "You must be Virgil." 

 "Who's asking?" Virgil growled. 

 He almost regretted it as one of the guards made a move for him, only to be stopped by the man holding up a hand. 

 "You can call me John." 

 "Because that's totally not a made up name." 

 'John' just smirked, "Remind me: what was your father's name again?" 

 Virgil cursed, "Look man, if you're looking for money you kidnapped the wrong guy. I haven't had contact with that bastard in years. He didn't even pay child support!"  

 "I asked for his name, not your life story." 

 Virgil huffed, "George Storm," he ground out, "why are you even asking me? You obviously know already." 

 "Just wondering which alias he used on you." 

 "What?" 

 "Now Mr. Storm-" 

 "It's Sanders. I got rid of his name when I told him to fuck off." 

"Fair enough," the man said, "regardless of your name the fact remains that you're still his son and that means you're worth something." 

 Virgil couldn't help but laugh at that, "Didn't you hear me? He won't give you any money. He probably forgot I even existed by now." 

 "Then let's remind him shall we?" 

 Virgil couldn't help but flinch at the sudden sound of ducktape. 

 …

 "- and if you don't? Well your little boy might just have a little accident." 

 Virgil's screams came out muffled as the cattleprod was once again jammed into his side. 

 "Enough." 

 Virgil shook as he tried to recatch his breath. 

 "Well Mr. Sanders, you played your roll quite well." John told him. 

 Virgil just glared back. 

...

 Virgil wasn't sure how long he had been in the small room. It had to have been a couple of days at least. They had taken a few more videos after his fathers response or lack thereof. Each time Virgil was beaten or tortured just shy of unconsciousness. 

 He wasn't restrained anymore at least. It's not like anyone thought he could do anything at this point. 

 He laid on the cold metal floor hoping it might somehow make his body feel less like a puddle of pain, but if it did it wasn't noticeable. 

 He flinched and curled into himself when he heard the door open. Several sets of heavy foot steps made their way towards him. He tried to curl up tighter in a meager attempt to protect himself but inevitably failed as a rough hand pulled him into a sitting position. A bright flash let him know they were taking another photo before the hand in his hair began pulling him towards the door. 

 "Hello again Mr. Sanders." John greeted pleasantly as Virgil was thrown to the deck. 

 Virgil coughed as he pushed himself to his knees, "I'm guessing he won't give you anything?" 

 "No." John hummed, "I guess you were right. He really doesn't give a shit about you." 

 "Will you let me go now?" He couldn't help but ask. 

 John smirked again in the way Virgil had unfortunately become familiar with over the last however long, "Seeing as you aren't worth any monetary value I see no reason to keep you." 

 For a brief moment there was a flicker of hope in his chest. 

 "But I've wanted to kill that father of yours for a long time now. And you do bare quite the resemblance." 

 Virgil screamed as a heavy net was suddenly thrown over him. He tried to fight off the men surrounding him as they began to wrap rope around the mess he was quickly getting tangled in. 

 "Any last words for your father?" John asked as he stood over him with a camera. 

 "I hope you both burn in hell!" Virgil hissed. 

 "I suppose we'll just have to meet you there." The man told him before nodding to one of his goons. 

 Virgil screamed out a slew of curses as he was dragged the short distance to the side of the boat. He managed to suck in a breath as he felt himself be hoisted over the side and tried not to lose it as he hit the freezing water. 

 ~  

 Logan's nose twitched as the faint scent of blood traveled on the weak current around him. Normally this would be a sign of an easy meal. A struggling seal, perhaps a fish that made a narrow escape, the occasional whale injured by human vessels. 

 He knew there was a boat in this area. He had been following it of course. Humans were dangerous but they were interesting and it was rare for them to be in this area. 

 Unable to resist his curiosity he quickly followed the scent to the boat. 

 The surface churned as the boat sped away but Logan barely paid it any mind as his eyes caught on something heavily tangled in one of the cursed human nets. 

 Logan knew humans used them to catch large amounts of fish. He wasn't sure why they needed so many all at once but that was one of life's great mysteries. He also knew that other creatures often got caught in them. If they were lucky the humans would let them out. If they weren't they often drowned. 

 He swam closer to the poor creature that was still struggling in the net. Whatever it was had obviously been left for dead. 

 ~

I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die…

 Virgil struggled as the net seemed to get tighter around him and his lungs screamed for air. 

Oh god I'm gonna die!

 He had to get out he had to get out of the net. 

 Despite his mind telling him to struggle and get out so he could breathe, his limbs started to fail him as he sank deeper into the cold water. 

 He barely felt the nudge of panic that shot through him as a shadowy figure that looked too close to a shark came closer. 

'Sharks are cool…' he thought as his vision turned dark. 

 ~ 

 Logan wasn't sure what he expected to be in the net, but he knew 'human' wasn't on his list. 

 The human's unfocused eyes landed on him for only a moment before closing. Small bubbles of air began to escape from their face as they went limp.

 That was… not good. 

 He quickly grabbed the net and tried to pull it upwards to the surface but barely slowed the descent caused by the heavy weights. 

 Logan looked up to the sky that grew farther and farther away. He needed to cut the weights off but the human would surely die before they would make it to the surface. There was only one thing to do if he intended to save them.

 He hesitated a moment before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the humans. 

 When he pulled back the human drew in a sharp breath followed by a short coughing fit. Logan was a bit concerned they didn't wake up but at least they weren't about to drown. 

 Logan reached into his bag and pulled out his knife before moving to cut the ropes. The heavy weights quickly disappeared into the dark below and Logan began pulling the human back to the warmer water near the surface. 

 … 

 Virgil woke up cold. It took him a moment to realize he was soaking wet. Another moment passed and he realized he wasn't alone. 

 There was someone next to him, humming in an odd tone, and seeming to be messing with something covering him. 

 He managed to crack one of his eyes open just in time to see a blurry flash of what looked like a knife. He quickly closed his eyes and curled into himself causing the person above him to stop humming. 

 ~ 

 Logan knew he should've fled back to the water as soon as the human showed signs of waking. He was only part way through cutting the human out of the net when the human's eyes opened. Only for them to immediately close again and for the human to retreat into themself. 

 Logically this would be the next perfect opportunity to leave. 

 "It's alright," he said instead, "You're safe now." 

 The human flinched at the sound of his voice but made no move to look at him. 

 After a minute Logan realized he wasn't going to get an answer, "You're stuck in a net," he told them, "I was in the process of removing it when you woke up. May I continue to use my knife to get it off?" 

 The humans eyes remained screwed shut but after a moment they nodded. 

 "Alright, I'm going to start near your abdomen is that acceptable?" 

 Another nod and Logan began to cut through the plastic ropes once more. As he worked the human gradually began to relax slightly. By the time he finished the human was only marginally as tense as they had been when they woke up. 

 Logan stored his knife back in his bag, "You should be able to get out now." 

 Once again the human flinched at his voice but thankfully didn't seem as scared as before. After a few seconds, the human began to shift cautiously. 

~

 By the time the other person had spoken again Virgil was pretty sure they didn't intend to murder him. But he was still confused. The last thing he remembered was being thrown overboard and left to drown. 

 Had another boat just happened to be near enough to see it and help him? It wasn't likely but that was all he could think of. 

 Until he finally got the courage to sit up and open his eyes. 

 ~ 

 The human gasped as their eyes locked onto the sharkmers tail. They seemed to freeze for a moment before their eyes rolled back and Logan lunged forward to try and catch them.

 "Oh dear," Logan said as he looked down at the once again unconscious human. 

 He looked around the area, unsure of what to do next. The sky was beginning to shift to a morning grey and more humans would undoubtedly start making their way to the currently empty beach. Logically he should leave now and let the other humans deal with it. 

 Logan was feeling very illogical today. 

 He gently laid the human back down and waited. 

 It was a bit concerning how long the human remained unconscious a second time. Logan knew it was likely due to their injuries, both seen and unseen, but for some reason he couldn't help but hope they would wake up soon. 

 Logan kept a sharp eye on the beach. Just as the sound of voices started to travel down from the cliffs the human began to show signs of waking. 

 Logan hesitated longer than he probably should have before quickly making his way back to the safety of the ocean. 

 He hid some nearby rocks and watched as the small group of arriving humans seemed to notice the figure in the sand. When they got close the group picked up speed and surrounded the injured human. 

 It wasn't long before humans in matching dark clothing appeared and took the first away. 

 Logan took that as his queue to leave as well. 

...some time later…

 Virgil stared out at the ocean as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. 

 He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to come back to the beach so often. Honestly you'd think the almost drowning in it would make him more wary of the ocean. And while there were many things he'd rather forget, and a few he probably had, he couldn't help but think about the person he saw. 

 He had met the people who found him on the beach, how he got there was still a mystery, and while they were nice people, none of them were the one he'd first seen. The one who he was pretty sure saved him and cut the net. 

 So here he was, sitting on the dock, waiting for something to happen. 

 As the sun finished sinking into the ocean he almost swore he saw a large fin break the water. 

[yan-twst]

oh can you make hcs for Leona, Malleus, Azul and the Leech twins of how they would treat a younger sibling that is attending NRC with them?

leona kingscholar

leona hates farena because he was praised just for being the elder brother. however, both leona and his younger sibling had to endure more judgement from everyone- he definitely feels closer to his younger sibling

he’s got a very laissez-faire attitude with them. he isn’t the type to fuss over them and try to constantly steer them down the “right path”; he’s more for letting his younger sibling do their own thing

since they’re in NRC with him, his sibling can’t be more than four or five years younger than him, which is great, because that’s old enough to not bother him! sorry cheka

while he won’t interfere with his sibling’s school life, he’ll be very protective when he hears others mention them. he has no problem beating up people who he considers talk too salaciously about his little sibling

even if somehow his younger sibling doesn’t end up in savanaclaw, he’ll invite them over for magift practice. it’s not like he cares about “honouring the kinscholar name” or anything like that; it’s just a good way to train body and magic, and leona feels calmer knowing his younger sibling can hold their ground even against the tougher savanaclaw students

malleus draconia

malleus would treasure his younger sibling more than anything in the world. after all, they wouldn’t be the type to be scared or freaked out by him- he’d definitely see them more as a friend than a sibling

however, this doesn’t mean he wouldn’t fuss over them like a big brother. lilia would tell tales about how baby malleus would cry whenever his little sibling tripped and scraped their knee, or how he’d always go and gaze at them in their crib when they were a baby

while malleus may be doting, he prefers to help his sibling be strong rather than watch over them at all times. he and his sibling both have ridiculously strong magic, being descendants from the witch of thorns- malleus is set on making sure his sibling can wield their magic to protect themselves

if people talked about his sibling like they do about him, he’d be extra bummed. just because they’re both royal dark fae and have horns and a dark aura doesn’t mean anything- his sibling is the sweetest! 

if his sibling shares the same fate of always being forgotten to be invited, he’ll most likely sulk alongside them. it stings to be forgotten, but at least he has a companion!

azul ashengrotto

azul is a very protective older brother. even as a child, he’d shield away all the bullying he got from his appearance so his own sibling wouldn’t be targeted

now in NRC, he’s very much so still protecting them. he doesn’t want them to be caught up in his dark business- after all, he’d freak the hell out if an angry student who got the short end of a contract went after them, so he does his best to include clauses and agreements to leave his sibling out of all that

azul would constantly teach his sibling tricks on how to not only get amazing scores in tests and quizzes, but also how to slip out of things and take advantage of other people’s idioticness. hey, it’s a school for villains, he has to make sure they can outsmart bad people, right?

it’s very clear to everyone azul likes to dote on his sibling. despite monstro lounge being a very controlled environment where azul’s word is law, his sibling is treated like royalty there, with food on the house and the rowdier leech twin even behaving properly around them

azul would also revert to his crybaby self when alone with his sibling; there’s no point in acting all high and mighty when they know him since he was a child! 

jade leech

already used to hauling around floyd, who despite being the same age acts like a manchild, jade would make a very caring and careful older brother

jade is very much aware of all the unsavory business going on at NRC behind the curtains; he’d make sure to keep his beloved sibling out of that as much as he could

surprisingly, he worries less about his younger sibling acting up than he does about floyd going off and doing something stupid. he trusts his younger sibling to behave; after all, he’s been teaching them from day one!

sometimes his butler-like act seems to be less like azul is his master, and more like his younger sibling is. he likes to carry them in his shoulders (even if they aren’t as tiny as they used to be when they were all children), prepare their food, and just generally dote on them

god bless whoever messes with his little sibling. not only will they have floyd on their case, but jade’s anger is something even azul doesn’t want to bring forth. it’s not easy to anger jade, but messing with his little sibling is a one-way ticket to a terrible, no good time with him

floyd leech

the complete opposite from his brother, but still a very caring brother. floyd might be older than his sibling, but he sometimes acts like he’s the younger one

contrary to jade’s protective behaviour, floyd likes to drag his sibling around all of nrc. who cares about trouble? floyd can protect them all right!

also, he likes to hug his sibling. jade wouldn’t ever let him squeeze him, but his little sibling won’t deny a hug from his older brother, riiight?

floyd likes to play games with them; tag, jump rope, any playground games he remembers or comes across! though his favorite will always be racing, although he much prefers it in the water than on land...

his sibling will have to be the voice of reason from time to time. when floyd gets annoyed at azul or jade, he’ll probably go sulk to them and try to go do “fun” things; at times, his sibling will have to remind him to not be reckless

like jade, god help whoever tries to cross his younger sibling. the only one allowed to tease the little eel is him! and floyd is not someone you’d want to fight on a normal day; when he’s angry over the treatment of his sibling? oh, that’s just deadly, really

[secret-engima]

Snippet of Team Gremlin verse

(in which Team MEOWN perform their first break in, and also maybe play Over the Rainbow for stealth purposes)

...

     Haven Academy was disturbingly easy to break into. Granted, they had two illusionists strong enough to pull one over on the immortal queen of Grimm, the best assassin in the world, and a boy who had memories of building the school, but it still felt too lightly guarded. There were students bustling around, chatting and smiling as they hurried between classes, and it was far too easy for Neo’s Semblance to cover the four of them, making them all look like students themselves. Like eighteen year old students, a four person team just like all the others rather than a fourteen year old, two eight year olds, and a six year old.

     Despite no one knowing them, no one even batted an eye at their presence as they slipped in and out of the flow, Neo still carrying Oscar on her back, disguising him as a bright eyed rabbit Faunus with perky gold ears. She could see some people glancing his way for that, Mistral had a reputation about their treatment of Faunus after all, but that meant no matter what happened next, anyone asked would remember a caucasian, blond, teenage rabbit Faunus rather than a six year old Oscar Pine. She draped Emerald in dark red hair and grey eyes with freckles on pale skin, and wrapped Mercury up in the smug facade of a dark-skinned boy with vivid gold eyes and fluffy black wolf ears on either side of his head instead of human ears. She made herself look taller, stronger, broad shouldered and with the heavy stride of someone used to hauling around heavy farm equipment. Brown haired and green eyed and plain save for her size.

     The less they looked like themselves, the better it would be, and in a school like this, being unique and eye-catching was it’s own form of invisibility, because with students from all over Anima and the world itself, everyone was unique and eye catching in their own way. Emerald knew it too, artfully spinning and walking backward to talk to Mercury about something inane and “normal”, the picture of a soft, civilian student, doing normal student things.

     They ducked around a corner in a camera’s blind spot as soon as they could, slipping into the old music room that Oscar remembered from lifetimes that didn’t belong to him. Letting Oscar down from her back, she helped him over to a piano that looked positively ancient, battered and scarred from years and years heavy use. There was a little sign on its back that proclaimed in big letters that students were not to touch the piano without express supervision of a teacher, and the piano itself was ringed off with a little velvet rope that did nothing to stop them from helping Oscar to the bench. Mercury looked around with narrowed eyes, “No cameras?”

     “No,” Oscar replied as he sat down on the bench and ran his gloved fingers silently over the keys, “Intentionally so. Only the inner circle is supposed to know of this, and it was put in place specifically for if their security measures were ever turned against them.” His fingers settled on the keys and Neo glanced nervously at the music room door when he started playing a slow, complicated sounding melody on the keys, a vague look creeping into his eyes that meant he was leaning on things that didn’t originally belong to him to pull it off.

[they-callme-ami]

Double Dutch. (aka the drunk! Elijah, Aurora, black!MC and Tobias fic)

Note: This story uses lots of AAVE (African American Vernacular English) and is mostly intended for a black audience--you can still read for funsies or whatever, but I better not hear some shit about it not being inclusive or using 'improper grammar'.

Tags: @what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @tyrils-star @melaninnntae @indescribablybre @prism-goddess

It started innocently enough: you were helping Aurora wrap her hair, pinning it up and tying the scarf around it.  Elijah rolled into the living room in his pajamas. You three were the only ones at home since you three had worked later than Jackie, Bryce and Sienna and didn’t feel like going out that night.  But y’all weren’t opposed to chillin and talkin’ shit. 

It had been a long ass day. Ethan was getting on every damn nerve you had, either talking about his mom and their strained relationship or bugging you about your cases. The man just did not leave you alone, and normally it was cool--but today he needed to back the fuck up and stop talkin shit about Tobias. It was gettin old. Not only that, but you had your own intern to deal with--which is what you were going on about now.

“I’m telling you Elijah--I love Esme but that girl is too fuckin much!  She always stay talkin back to the other attendings, nearly started a fight with another intern, and even when she asks for my advice she don’t listen! Thinkin she know everything….fuckin stubborn headass..” You sigh while twisting your hair.  

“Uh-huh. Sounds like a familiar head-ass doctor I know.  You were on trial last year, stoopid!  I know your ass not talkin bout Esme.  She’s a breeze compared to Sothy… he barely knows how to do anythin--it's a damn miracle he graduated y’know.”

“And who’s fault is that Elijah--oh, excuse me, Oracle.”  Aurora smirked and laughed as Elijah could only sit there, ultimately taking the L.

As y’all were about to go in on each other, there was a knock at the door.

“Oh! Finally, must be the package I ordered.  I hope y’all are ready to see me strut the halls in my new---”  You open the door, only to see Tobias there in some sweats with some take out food and a paper bag.

“Not a package, but I’d love to see what you plan on struttin in.”  He teased and smirked.

“SHIT---Uh---why are you here so late---”  You had your bonnet on and a big ass t-shirt with some stains on it and some basketball shorts.  It was the first time he'd seen you so casual.

"Easy there firecracker, I didn't expect you to look--what are the kids saying--'beat and snatched' 24/7." He pecked your lips and walked in. 

“I invited him Y/N. Tobias, don't ever try and say that shit again and bring me my wings.”  Aurora smiled and laughed, seeming to not be phased by her boss seeing her in a scarf and acne cream dotting her face.  Was she just so tired from work she didn’t care?  Who were you kidding, this girl was a complete trip after a long day and was just sayin ‘fuck it’.

“Elijah, I got Tobias to grab you some of that shrimp scampi from that place downtown, and Y/N--he got you your favorite cause I told him and you his new boo thing.”  Aurora smirked with a wing in hand, and Elijah playfully gagged while Tobias handed out takeout containers and handed yours over. Yup, it was your favorite dish from your favorite place.  

“Now--I was invited for 3 reasons: A.) I have a car so I could do the food run and get y’all spoiled asses some good food.  B.)  I live 5 blocks away from the liquor store so--” He held up a bottle from the bag he had--Hennessy, cause of course he’d get the most stereotypical dr--”And C.) I had to pull a double shift so I’m tired and nice enough to share some college Ramsey stories with y’all.”

So there you were, sipping on your glass and laughing as Tobias was explaining how Ethan thought that ‘double dutch’ was some kind of dessert or innuendo for a threesome with exchange students.

“Wait wait---no no you gotta be kiddin me.  Fuckin 4.0 Med school GPA Ramsey--future head of Edenbrooks Diagnostics Team--thought double dutch was some kinda play on words?  I have to laugh…” Elinah snorts. You couldn’t help but burst into whoops and hollars, laughing and even Aurora couldn’t hide the smile on her face after she almost choked on her drink.

“Uh-huh.  Even after I told him what it was, he insisted that he had to see ‘it’.  I took him to my old neighborhood, and watched four 9 year old girls school him while he nearly fell flat on his face!”  Tobias laughed and smiled as he recalled the memory.  “For someone so fuckin smart--I swear to god he’s a dumbass.  Arrogant too, he never wanted to jump rope at the gym anymore.”

Something inside you flipped on.  You took a sip of Henny and smirked.  

“Well, I knew he had the fuckin long-ass neck of a giraffe, but clearly them legs ain’t doin him a favor either.”  Tobias nearly spat his drink and crumbled on the floor into laughter, Elijah slamming his hand on the table and laughing with him.  It was taking all of Aurora’s willpower to not laugh and act a fool.  “I mean, I know he ain’t got any rhythm either!  Mothafucka was clappin OFFBEAT during Donahue’s karaoke night, but I’m supposed to trust him to count how many heartbeats a patient has.”  You joke again, and Elijah was holding his sides.

“Fuck---he---Y/N shut the hell up!”  Tobias laughed and playfully pushed your shoulder.  “Pass me the damn bottle….y’all lemme tell you somethin worse than that--his cooking.  The man can’t stay on beat let alone beat a fuckin egg.  Y/N--tell ‘em bout the chicken.”

“He---He invited me home after work or somethin--and he wanted me to help him with this recipe he saw for chicken.  Y’all, it was the BLANDEST ass recipe I ever saw in my life.  I was terrified to eat whatever the fuck he was makin, it was so bad his dad even helped out and said how it needed some proper seasoning.  I had never seen an old man so disappointed in such an empty spice cabinet.  I had to leave.”  You snicker as you retell the story.  “Even worse?  He tried to bring me some leftovers afterwards and by god was that mothafucka dry as HELL---y’know what, lemme calm down cause I am not about to yell over some bland ass chicken.”  You chugged down the Henny and grabbed the bottle to pour another glass.

“Y’know….for someone who seemed real eager to stuff a chicken, he cannot seem to tell he got a stick stuffed far up his ass.  No wonder he walks around like an emotionally constipated man-baby.”  Aurora said with a straight face as she chugged her own drink.  You turned away, laughing and doing a spit take as Tobias slammed his fist on the table, snorting while Elijah simply was in awe at Aurora’s words. 

 “My first week there, I was assigned to Y/N and cause my auntie was makin me give her full on oral essays of every case I had, I missed out on one of ours and nearly let a patient die.  Now---his ass knows this.  He knows exactly who the fuck I am and who the fuck my aunt is.  And what did he do?  Chewed me out without a second thought.  I was *this* close to curb stomping his ass I swear--He even called Y/N amature after saving someone’s life because it ‘was sloppy’ and ‘wasn’t professional enough’.  And another thing--” 

You watched Aurora stand up, Henny in her hand, and just goin off on Ethan.  She was tearing into him, from him being able to get off the hook for punching Declan, verbally avicerating innocent interns, being all high and mighty--man, she hated his ass.  Elijah was just eating his scampi, vibing and Tobias was smiling like a proud parent, eating his burger. 

 “He gon have the nerve--the audacity--the CAUCASITY to assume that I’M trippin because I told him about Landry being all rude and dismissive of one of his black-female patients.  He nearly put ME on probation for helping deliver the baby properly when Landry prescribed her the wrong treatment for something cause neither of them will ever fuckin LISTEN and--”  You could not have been any more impressed.  You were just soaking it all in.  She finally sat back down and ate some of her wings.

Tobias sighs and grins.  “Damn. Elijah, you been real quiet...you wanna add your two cents?” he asks while Tobias took a big gulp and sat the glass back down.  He took a deep breath.

“No, no….I just want his long-neck-headass, mommy-didn’t-love-me-so-I’m-a-lil-bitch-headass, grudge-holding-grown-ass-man-headass, lemme-insult-my-interns-headass, pompous, privileged, irritating, high and oh so fuckin’ mighty ass to humble himself and learn to get his head and the stick he got outta his ass.  It ain’t cute to just bash everyone around you cause yo ass is feelin like Hamilton, ‘smartest in the room’ mofo.”  He said, all very calmly while finishing his drink.   You, Tobias and Aurora just exchanged a look….and broke out into a fit of laughs and smiling. 

A few drinks later and a hella amount of roasts later, you were cuddled up with Tobias while Elijah laid out on Aurora's lap. 

"Damn…..we really been up for hours now. Jackie and Sienna still out…" Elijah piped up and checked his phone. "They're at Bryce's place, having a 'girls night' with Keiki and sleepin over…..ooooo, Tobias should sleep over too!" He showed y'all a photo Sienna sent. 

"Uh-huh, you should! We can watch movies and... oh Elijah your hair is sooooo soft." Aurora smiled and was playfully twisting it. Seems like the drinks were finally hitting.  Tobias could tell too.

He managed to help Elijah back in his wheelchair and followed his directions to his room.  He came back out to you helping Aurora to her room.

"Byyyye boss. See ya at work! If you do stay over, y'all better be quiet while he rearrange them guts!" She poked you laughing as you rolled your eyes and got her in bed.  You walked back out, feeling tipsy yourself and plopped on the couch...with Tobias.

"Y'know….your friends definitely know how to go all in on a roast session. I found out shit about Ethan I didn't know till now."

"Mhmmmm….Henny is….is a miracle worker…" you slurred and laughed, laying up on him. "And yoooooouuu….are a fine-ass pillow." 

Before you succumbed to the exhaustion and hennessy, you felt Tobias's lips peck your cheek gently and his arms hold you tight against him.

The next day at work, you were taking your break and went outside to the courtyard...much to your surprise you found a few children--presumabley patients-- playing double dutch with some jump rope.

"Apples, peaches, pears, and plums

Tell me when your birthday comes! 1! 2! 3! 4!"

They were counting along as you hopped inside the rope, showing off a bit and laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ethan walking towards the building.

"Hey, Ethan, wanna join? It may not be a dessert or two dutch girls--but it'll be fun!" You called out and teased while working the ropes. You could see his face turn red from where you were, and him muttering softly about Tobias. You couldn't help but laugh as you kept skipping and hopping away.

[pulaasul]

Vengeful Captain

Ryuji found a box inside his room.

Out of curiosity, he opened it.

Ao3 I FFN

--------

Its Ryuji’s Birthday, so in honor of his birthday, here’s an AU where Ryuji discovers his Persona-related powers a year before Akiren went to Tokyo.

Happy Birthday Ryuji! You deserve justice against Kamoshida, if Atlus won’t give it to you, I will

--------

It has been a few months since that bastard Kamoshida broke his leg.

Months since his club had been disbanded.

Months since his reputation took a turn for the worse.

All because he can't control his anger.

All because he can't take all the insults hurled towards his mother.

Ryuji Sakamoto was in his bedroom on an imposed bed rest. He wasn't allowed to put stress on his legs, meaning no walking and no running for the foreseeable future, not unless he was doing physical therapy.

He was simply reading his manga when he noticed an inconspicuous box in his bedroom. His current bedroom was his father's former storage room back when they first moved to Tokyo from Tatsumi Port Island.

If he remembered correctly, they had moved away from Tatsumi Port Island at the urging of his father's boss.

Not soon after, the death of one Shuji Ikutsuki was announced.

That was when their relationship with father had gone sour.

Beatings took place instead of hugs.

Harsh words took the place of praise and encouragement.

Everything had gone south, not even his Track accomplishments in middle school assuaged his father's treatment of him and his mother.

Not long after, his father left the family.

Hopefully for good.

Maybe the inconspicuous box was something his father left behind.

Morbid curiosity got ahold of Ryuji, to satiate it, he used his elbows to crawl towards the box and opened it.

--------

Now that he had finally successfully disbanded that pesky Track Team, thanks to Sakamoto, he can finally reign the school as he pleases.

The principal was easy to please, he was obsessed with the school's prestige. Kamoshida knew how good Kobayakawa's name would smell if it'd become public knowledge that he was the one responsible for bringing such reputation to the school.

Kobayakawa wasn't exactly happy when he broke Sakamoto's leg.

A good sob story about defending himself did the trick and brought him to his side.

Kamoshida was currently sorting through the papers of the school's volleyball teams. He looked at them thoroughly and examined which of these students would be easily persuaded to do his bidding.

When a single envelope fell out from the table.

Curious, he opened and saw an ornate ring inside, alongside a note.

Kamoshida-sensei, I know this must be sudden.

But please take this ring as my appreciation.

For teaching at Shujin.

Your Secret Admirer.

A grin was plastered on the teacher's face as he read through the note. He was only a few months in and he already had a secret admirer from the student body.

He immediately took the roster of the girls' volleyball team and tried to think which of the girls would've sent the note.

----------

A few more months had passed since Kamoshida had received the ring and note. He was still far from figuring out who from the student body would send such a note.

In any case, Kamoshida decided to wear the ring every time he was about to go home, where there were no students or fellow teachers around. He knew it'd be easier to figure out his secret admirer if he had worn the ring everywhere he went.

He can't have his reputation sink so low, so early in the game.

As he stepped outside the school, suddenly his surroundings turned green, the small puddle by the walkway turned blood red.

"What's going on?!" Kamoshida growled. "IF this is a joke, you better cut it out."

Kamoshida tried to walk back inside the school but somehow the doors refused to budge. That was when he noticed a coffin standing near the door, sealing it from the inside.

He looked around the school and the walkways and the street, everywhere he looked he could always see a standing coffin.

--------

Ryuji looked at his former teacher with morbid glee. It wasn't long ago that he discovered this new power, this green-red reality.

Who better to test his new abilities on than the one person who destroyed his chance at life in the first place?

As soon as he saw Kamoshida step down the stairs he immediately announced his presence.

"Kamoshida-sensei" Ryuji mocked. "I thought you were above panicking?" He questioned.

"Sakamoto!" Kamoshida growled at the Sakamoto. "What have you done?!" He demanded. "Get me out of here this instant!"

"So demanding." Ryuji yawned. "Or what Kamoshida?" He glared at his former coach.

"Or what?!" Kamoshida scoffed. "Have you forgotten what I did to you, you punk?!" He glared at the young boy. "Or would you like another demonstration and leave you a cripple for life?"

As soon as the inevitable threat left the perverted teacher's mouth, Ryuji couldn't help but guffaw and laugh as hard as he could. Kamoshida was in unknown territory and he still had the gall to blurt out threats.

"What's funny Sakamoto?!" Kamoshida seethed. "Get me out of here this instant!"

It took a few moments for Ryuji to calm down, but he eventually did.

"You know what Kamoshida, you should be begging for your life." Ryuji stated. "You are in an unknown territory, you are talking to someone who you have wronged, and well the entire surrounding is creepy." He continued. "And yet here you are blurting out empty threats."

"Beg to whom?" Kamoshida scoffed. "You?"

"Who else?" Ryuji gave out a feral grin. "You see anybody else here?"

"I didn't peg you to be a comedian Sakamoto." Kamoshida scoffed once more. "Did a broken leg gave you that talent?" He mocked.

"Comedian eh?" Ryuji raised a nonchalant eyebrow. "Let's see you laugh at this!"

Ryuji kneeled down and clutched his head, as if he was having an intense migraine, while he glowed red. He screamed silently as he pulled his hair in an attempt to ease the pain he was feeling.

Suddenly, something eerie just happened, something in red hue appeared behind the Sakamoto.

It looked like a skeleton with a noose tied around its neck area while his upper limbs were bound by together by another piece of rope. It also wore a pirate-themed clothes complete with a hat on its head, hiding the upper part of its skeletal face. It was standing on an old-looking ship that was used back in the day.

"Is the light show supposed to frighten me?" Kamoshida mocked.

"You may mock me Kamoshida, but I can see your legs shaking." Ryuji smirked as he stood up, wincing in the process, and glared at his former coach. "But I guess, that's just you." He sneered.

"Give'im hell Captain Kidd!"

---------

Everyone was abuzz and panicking.

Crumpled on the street, sobbing uncontrollably, was one Suguru Kamoshida. It looked like he went through hell, his clothes were burnt, and even his jogging pants had burn marks in them.

Different shades of purple decorated the Kamoshida's body, in fact some people commented that some of his body parts weren't supposed to go that way.

The emergency response team that arrived tried to gain information on what had happened, but all they can hear the Kamoshida say were words of apologies and begging for his life. No one could make sense of the PE teacher.

It was a miracle that Kamoshida didn't end up being a cripple, but his days as a volleyball coach was over. He needed time to rest his body from the beating he took.

A few weeks went by and Ryuji was accepted back in Shujin. People suspected that he had something to do with the assault on Kamoshida but no one could really prove it.

Leaked interrogations proved his alibi. He was at the hospital doing physical therapy when Kamoshida was found on the streets.

In time, those accusations never came to fruition. They found out that Sakamoto had changed a lot. He doesn't even get angry at the people who antagonize him, even to the people who brought up his father.

A year later however, those very same people were suddenly found on the streets, sobbing uncontrollably, but couldn't remember what happened to them.

Some had even soiled the pants they were wearing.

Of course, the media pinned those as done by the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.

[coolcattime]

Character Dossier: Medli

Name: Medli Mistwalker

Age: 19

Race: Water Genasi

Class: College of Whispers Bard.

Sexuality/Pronouns: Lesbian, She/Her

Short Bio:

Medli is an excitable, teenage water genasi with a love of music and an obsession with magic. She will go out of her way to learn more about magic, finding a lot of joy in both knowing about it and practising it. She is quite a charming individual, having a talent with making up stories and mimicry. Some would call it lying but she would be quite insistent that such wording downgrades the talent involved.

She is quite clumsy, though she also seems lucky enough to find a way to turn clumsiness into something that looks impressive. It is hard to tell what is intentional on her part and what is just an accident. If she intended to cartwheel the whole time or simply tripped and then did so to avoid falling.

Medli is completely against violence, getting quite upset if she ever has to hurt anything. Due to this, all of her spells are ones that can’t hurt people and Medli tries to avoid fights if she can. That being said, she isn’t completely defenceless and has some tricks up her sleeve if she does need to do some damage, though she prefers just to help keep the people she’s with safe instead.

Physical Description:

Medli is quite an odd-looking individual, with blue skin and hair, her features look being more similar to a tropical ocean than they do to most humans. She is shorter than most, standing at about 5’2”. She is about average weight, though her genasi heritage, general lack of muscle mass, and odd diet means that her weight is mostly made up of fat.

She has scales on her forehead, cheeks, neck, shoulder, hips, lower back, and upper legs. Many of them have small scars around them, and quite a few are missing. She also has gills on the back of her neck though one is damaged and has a scar over it along with part of her neck. Other notable scars she has are multiple small ones under her hair and one on her left wrist that extends slightly round onto the front of her arm.

 Hair:

Medli’s hair is deep blue in colour and acts like it’s constantly underwater both in the fact that it moves and flows by itself and that it’s always wet. This fact is inconvenient in the winter and in general when in a colder climate as it freezes, becoming brittle which causes Medli a lot of stress. If it ever was still it would go down to her waist. To Medli, her hair is her most beloved feature, with a good amount of her self-esteem tied to it.

 Outfits:

Medli usually wears a simple outfit made up of a white off-the-shoulder crop top, an orange tiered maxi skirt, and a pair of old brown gladiator sandals. They are all made of a cheaper but comfortable material designed to be easy to perform in. She has a single ear piercing, a hoop made of dark blue metal.

She also has two accessories she nearly always wears, the first being a silver circlet made up of two metal rings with four blue jewels as a centrepiece. When she first received it at twelve years old, it was too big to fit her correctly, though that didn’t stop her from attempting to wear it (it often becoming a necklace). Now she has grown enough to properly fit it and she wears it as much as possible.

The other is a green blanket, decorated with an orange sun on one edge and an orange moon on the opposite one. It’s made of thin material, enough that that is almost see-through when it’s stretched out. Medli wears it folded and tied around her waist so that the sun can be seen. Medli has always had the blanket with it being the first possession she ever had, though she has done her best to take care of it. The most notable damage done to it is that at one point it was cut in half, though it has now been sewn back together along with being embroidered with constellation patterns.

 Interests:

Medli has a passionate interest in magic and magical knowledge. She spends a lot of time practicing magic and studying arcane theory. She has a journal detailing her notes and theories on different spells, some of which is completely ridiculous but that is generally stuff that Medli cannot cast herself. The notes on spells she can cast usually detail the uses she can think of for them, as well as the way she’s seen other people cast them and their general effects.

Medli also loves playing instruments, she can play three different instruments but her main focus is the violin. She loves making music and did so even before she began to learn bardic skills that linked music and magic together. Even though she isn’t an expert, she loves playing the violin and it brings her a lot of joy, though she can get quite stressed about any perceived imperfection or when attempting to play an unfamiliar piece.

Important Relationships:

Lady Clarissa Mistbreaker. (She/Her) A middle-aged, half-elven woman who has gotten to her current position through being ruthless and manipulative. She has been the Baroness of Mistwalker Island, a title held by the head of the college, for the past four decades. It is a well-respected position, given to the best bard at the college as chosen by the previous Baron or Baroness, though there are only rumours of the trails Clarissa had to go through to prove herself.

She dresses in refined, formal attire, wanting to make sure she always looks prepared and professional while also being imposing. This is seen clearly in the long, green military-style coat she usually wears; the collar being decorated with the fur of an Arcanaloth. She is also never seen without at less one of her custom weapons; one a short whip made of a violin string, and the other an enchanted hand-crossbow.

Clarissa has known Medli since she was a baby, having been the one to find her abandoned on the docks of Mistwalker Island. At first, she has little interest in the girl, simply putting her into the care of the college but then she realised the unique opportunity she had been presented. She would shape her into the perfect prodigy.

So, Clarissa started mentoring Medli, giving her private lessons from a young age. Medli enjoyed most of these lessons, especially those where she learned to play instruments, looking up to Clarissa as most of the students at the college did. However, there was a darker side to the mentorship as it led to Clarissa abusing her prodigy under the guise of teaching her. She would belittle her for nearly everything, for asking “stupid” questions, expressing her fear or dislike of violence, and even the names she chose for her pets. When teaching her violin, she would whip her across the wrist whenever she made a mistake or used a technique different from what Clarissa thought was best. She also did her best to make sure Medli feel isolated from the other students, including encouraging the bullying Medli experienced.

Throughout Medli’s life, Clarissa has controlled her actions, and even running away from Mistwalker hasn’t stopped her from attempting to do so. Medli is her prodigy, and she can’t allow her to leave while she is still learning and Clarissa especially can’t allow her to be corrupted by the untrained tiefling she is now traveling with.

 Idric Ba’lor. (He/Him) A tiefling man who with only one remaining horn, with the other being wore as a necklace after being smashed off when he was younger and first getting a footing in life.

Being a few years older than Medli, Idric has become a fairly well-known, if potentially polarising figure, playing roles as a violinist, merchant, and generally charming adventurer. More recently Idric captains his namesake ship: The Balor, a former cargo ship turned home and stage for performers and merchants. Idric is usually found in flamboyant attire, most notably a buccaneer’s coat that looks to have been originally designed for someone far taller and broader than Idric. The coat now is littered with marks of by-hand-tailoring, both intentionally and not; the most obvious of these being a series of embroidered constellation designs.

Idric first met Medli a couple of years ago, back when she was running anyway from Mistwalker and before he became Captain of the ship that he took his name from, and have since become close friends, with Idric taking a mentor-like figure. Though it took a while for Medli to come out of her shell, she trusts him fully and looks up to him a lot.

When working beside him, whether it be selling items with outlandish, largely false backstories or falling onto whatever adventure they accidentally started and are now roped into, Medli has felt useful in ways she never did back at the college.

Idric also holds a lot of contempt towards Medli’s former ‘mentor’ Clarissa, a feeling that definitely is mutual. The two first met when she held an open-challenge violin contest at the college, one that quickly became far more of a “duel” with Clarissa failing to best the younger violinist. Clarissa took this as a personal humiliation, for one he was self-taught while she was in charge of a bard college and for another, this battle took place in front of a crowd, her crowd. This hatred has only grown since Medli left the college, with Clarissa believing that Idric has manipulated and stolen her prodigy away and Idric continuously learning more about the treatment of his friend at the hands of a supposed mentor.

 Heather “Heath” Mistwalker. (He/Him) A fallen aasimar the same age as Medli, Heath is another student at Mistwalker College, having become a student a little over a decade ago. It was only when he came to Mistwalker that he started calling himself Heath, wanting to sound tougher in the vicious environment of the college. He looks relatively normal for an aasimar, lacking a defining odd feature that most of them possess. Some say that he is quite attractive, some say he would be even more so if he changed his hair cut to something more flattering.

It wasn’t long after becoming a student at Mistwalker that Heath grew to dislike Medli due to an incident that ended with the small group of friends he had made being expelled, with him only being allowed to stay due to this being so soon after he had started attending the school. They had told him that Medli was nothing more than a spoilt brat, getting away with more than anymore else in the college due to being Clarissa’s favourite, and losing the friends he had made because of her proved this to Heath. The fact that he and his friends had stolen Medli’s goldfish and nearly killed it seemingly not being important his mind.

Since then, he has been a bully to Medli and desperately attempted to gain Clarissa’s favour and attention, the small amounts of attention he did get further fuelling his actions. Though Heath doesn’t know that Clarissa subtly encourages the behaviour in an attempt to toughen Medli up, having no particular interesting in him. He is instead sure that he is slowly winning her over by proving how inept Medli is. After all, he knows that he is better than her, that he deserves to be the school’s prodigy, no matter what he has to do to prove it.

 Mouse Mistwalker. (He/Him) A goliath a few years older than Medli, Mouse is large and muscular enough to intimidate people without intending to while still being surprisingly light on his feet. During his time at Mistwalker, he was studying to be a rogue. He knows a few spells, though is most knows for using Mirror Image.

Mouse met Medli during a family visiting day at the college, where both were alone and not expecting any visitors. On this particular day, she has gotten curious about her parents and asked Clarissa, only to be yelled at, and was found by him crying in the corridors. Mouse conformed Medli, telling her that family is over-rated anyway. He managed to cheer her up, and the two spend the day talking, with Medli being extremely happy to talk to another student without being yelled at, and became fast friends.

Even as Medli was outcasted by basically everyone else in the college, Mouse continued to be her friend, thinking a little of those who would pick on someone smaller or weaker than themselves. After one particularly bad incident when Medli was twelve in which nearly all her hair was cut off, he gifted her a circlet as she had previously mentioned wanting one. It didn’t cheer her up as much as he would’ve liked but she did like the gift.

Mouse graduated from Mistwalker College a few years ago and Medli hasn’t seen him since.

 Altair Delphine. (They/Them) A Scourge Aasimar with chaotically formed shapes and winding veins of embedded stained glass indiscriminately coating parts of their body. Between the multi-coloured glass and blueish, almost bruise hued skin, Altair has a unique look.

Having attended the prestigiously brutal Penattrey Institute, Altair has received unparalleled exposure to powerful magics, influential mages and limit-breaking situations. Their feelings on this time are complex, however, especially considering the crushing expectations forced on them by their parents, school, and divine heritage.

Said immense pressure led to Altair running away from the Institute, just before receiving their final exam results. And so, Altair needed to find a way to support themselves.

Which, after a failed stint at opening a diviner’s tent, meant Altair took an ominous offer as an apprentice for Lady Clarissa herself, using their prolific divination abilities directly for her.  

This is where they met Medli.

A mutual struggle to fit in at a college designed to spark a killer instinct neither was interested in, led to a fast friendship forming between the two mostly on the backs of an avoidance of responsibility, something Altair very much enjoyed doing. For this duo, it mostly meant skipping obligations and finding a quiet spot to indulge their passions, for Altair this was mostly creating and maintaining a custom deck of tarots as well as tailoring and redesigning their outfits.

Despite Altair’s floundering social skills and occasional unintentional insensitivity, Medli was glad to have a new friend, someone she was genuinely excited to talk to. She loved listening to them discuss their passions and watch them draw or paint and was happy to be able to share her passions and hobbies with someone genuinely interested in them instead of mocking or yelling at her. It didn’t matter that their interests rarely aligned, the two developed a sincere and safe bond.

This bond was tested regularly by Heather and the other bullies who regularly made odd demands or interrupted the duo just to make them uncomfortable. Coming to a climax with a particular argument about Medli skipping “Poisons and Other Untraceables” that led to a particular nasty outburst and then Altair drawing out a flash of smoke from his deck with Medli lying about the “toxicity” of the spell.

Altair was still at Mistwalker when Medli left, though they left not long after. Medli doesn’t know why they left or where they may be now.

 Misc.:

Medli was raised in and received an education from Mistwalker College: a once prestigious boarding school, the reputation of which has become shadier over time. The college has always prided itself particularly on its powerful bards, but also on the wizards, rogues, performers, and politicians that are raised within its walls. Though those who investigate see the pattern of suspicious, usually manipulative, and sometimes downright criminal behaviour the graduates often show.  They are also well known for taking in taking in orphaned or abandoned children and raising them. Most who graduate from the college end up taking the last name Mistwalker, seeing joying the “Mistwalker family” as a great honour, quite a few returning to the college whether they take on a full-time teaching position or simply to help out with any problem the college might have.

Medli suffers from night terrors. Despite how often she has them, she doesn’t like telling people that she does until she is sure that she trusts them, to the point of sometimes lying about having one when someone finds her either having one or just having woke from one. They happen more frequency when she is stressed.

Medli has had four pet fish over the years: Mister Bubbles, Coyrim, Talula, and Mister Bubbles the Second. Unfortunately, all of them have passed away.

Medli is a vegetarian which was a problem while at the college due to a lack of options, meaning that she mostly ate pasta and bread as they were always available. Since starting to travel with Idric, she’s expanded her diet a lot.

[The characters Idric Ba’lor and Altair Delphine belong to @atlass-coat​ and their character descriptions were written by/with him]

[naruhoedou]

Transaction

---

Ryuunosuke Naruhodou/Seishirou Jigoku

Susato thought he could do it. Convincing their government, however, was a different task.

-Slight spoilers for DGS and DGS 2-

---

Of course he never thought it would be easy, least of all as easy as the Great Detective made it sound. But it was a logical decision and he was hoping that’d put things in his favor. As disrespectful as this all felt, even more so with the weight of Karuma resting in his lap, he couldn’t just let them get shipped right back to Japan. That’d be too cruel to Susato, who lost a brother apparently, when he could just sacrifice a bit of his mental health to honor his fallen friend. 

 

As he sat on the desk Asougi Kazuma wrote his last journal entry on, pen heavy in his hand, he silently thanked his literature major for his knowledge in writing formal requests. Although, knowing the format didn’t really help much when the situation was so unbelievable and complex. Did he start by mentioning how the star student of the Imperial Yuumei University lost his life by hitting his head too hard? Or that said student smuggled Ryuunosuke on board? Wasn’t the Minister of Foreign Affairs already aware of these things? Or was it just formality…

 

Would he even get accepted? If the country only chose to send the best of the best, would they even want to send some mediocre literature student for an education in law ? As these thoughts swirled and swirled in his mind, he realized he’d already begun writing. Reading over the lines he jotted down proved them to be acceptable. Now, if you asked anyone who knew him, they would say Ryuunosuke worked well under pressure. But what he did on impulse, he wouldn’t exactly clarify as such. With a heavy sigh that trembled towards the end of it in remembrance , he let his hand do as it pleased once more and the letter was completed. All that was left was a once-over by Susato in the morning... which ended in her exclaiming that she didn’t expect it to be so well written, a sheepish smile blooming on Ryuunosuke’s face as shame pooled in his gut. Noticing how backhanded her compliment was, and maybe not caring much about it, Susato took the letter and floated out the room. She’d give it to the sailors for it to be mailed out.

 

——

 

What? As Ryuunosuke held the (supposedly)formal reply in his hands, he felt a familiar feeling of shock run through his body. Now that he’d told Susato they’d gotten accepted and got her to leave, he had all the time in the world to read over this.. this personal threat of a letter in his hands. At least, until he had to throw himself into his law studies again, though he felt more like throwing himself...overboard. This was a joke, right? A funny joke from that Sherlock Holmes fellow who had somehow acquired the letter the sailors sent out a month ago, an official Japanese Government seal and also managed to copy the Minister of Foreign Affairs' handwriting and signature. Honestly, how these things kept happening to him, he had no clue. 

 

He’d heard some stories from Asougi(a pang went through his heart), about the law students both male and female who sold their bodies to get through law school. Prostitution, he’d called it. Tragically contradictory. Ryuunosuke remembered the other man smiling as he’d said it, wondering if Asougi really thought it so tragic after all. “It’s wrong to break the law you’re studying!” he heard a whisper through the room. Bitterly, “The law didn’t save you.”, he whispered back. He leaned forward, taking a deep breath as he usually did. 

 

So, what if the Minister of Foreign Affairs wasn’t immune to such attractions? It’s not like they’d meet for a long while. By the time he got to face the repercussions of the choice he was about to make, it’d be a year at least. Or however long this program was supposed to last. And, he thought he owed at least this much to the girl a few doors down. The girl who didn’t even get to be the last person to see her brother alive. He looked down. There probably was a good reason Asougi didn’t think to tell him about her, and it was no use feeling scorned by the dead. 

 

Did he really have to write a reply to this letter? He debated just ignoring it, how would anyone know if it didn’t just get lost out there? It probably wasn’t easy delivering letters to and from a ship. A lot of calculations and estimates… but he was getting off topic. He steeled his nerves and picked up the pen again. Feeling more and more like some kind of doll every second, he wrote an affirmative reply. He didn’t even want to think about Asougi getting the same treatment as this. But of course, Asougi was above agreeing to such an indecent proposal just to be able to go somewhere. Ryuunosuke huffed hysterically, placing the offending letter in an envelope. Writing back a letter of thanks was kind of normal in this situation, right? Susato absolutely could not find out what kind of.. transaction had just been made inside innocent, white envelopes.

 

——

 

He could say in good conscience that there were very few things that could surprise him anymore, especially with all that had already transpired. This happened to be one of those things. Who knew waiting with Susato for Professor Mikotoba to arrive would lead to a premature heart attack? All this action would surely end with him in an early grave. The moment of blissful ignorance that came with him not recognizing the tall, imposing man as his flittering nightmare these past few months had quickly passed. In its place was a cold sweat that persisted even as they lined up for a photograph. The man’s arm around his back was sending all signals except fatherly. If Ryuunosuke had a habit of fainting instead of his unbelievable perseverance to stress, this would be the perfect time to topple onto the floor. It might still be, the more shame-free part of his brain supplied. Surely everything would be forgotten if he caused such a ruckus? 

 

He was sure his heart would flee out of his chest when Jigoku took the moment of father and daughter reuniting to lean into his ear, making him feel the vibrations of his words, “Hello, Naruhodou-kun.” rather than hear them. Sure, it sounded kind of silly out of context, but the towering figure of the man behind him did a swell job of erasing any sense of comedy Ryuunosuke could have felt. After giving a tense but polite nod, he felt Jigoku’s hands meet his shoulders, slightly shaking with a friendly chuckle. Distantly hearing some form of reassurance being said to him, he wasn’t aware of much until they were leaving. Susato gave him a light poke on his back to get him to move. Upon feeling him jump under her finger, she gave him a concerned glance, and Ryuunosuke was once again amazed at how far they’ve come.

 

With the cold, cold sweat drying on his body, he couldn’t be all too sure that’s what was causing the shiver running through him. His fingers idly traced the piece of paper in his pocket. Probably slipped in there while the photo was being taken, he thought.

 

——

The Old Bailey was a risque place for something like this. He found himself growing colder and colder by the minute. He knew why he was here, the note was clear enough in its subtle way. The English government appointing a foreign Minister of Foreign Affairs a whole office, even for such a short stay… The line between courtesy and belittlement was truly a fine one. 

 

As he ascended the stairs, he was strangely calm. Like a death row inmate marching towards the rope. A fate he’d narrowly missed, funnily enough. His steps echoed in the grand hallway. The building was quiet but far from serene. For him, at least. As familiar as the courtroom itself had become… The rest of the courthouse, mainly the offices, would always remain alien to him. The door was large and imposing as all the others around it. He knocked twice, somewhat nervously. “Do come in, Naruhodou-kun.” a voice called from the inside. Ryuunosuke entered, closing the door behind him. He stood stock still, like that one time he had to go to the Principal’s office because he forgot his student ID number. Jigoku was no less condescending under his friendly façade.

 

The large man smiled at him, mischief burning in his eyes. Ryuunosuke thought about the door again. Maybe the scariest thing about Jigoku… was that he fit in, here. Huffing in amusement at the younger man’s refusal to sit down before being told to, he gestured loosely at the chair in front of the desk. “I’ve heard much about your cases, though I’d love to hear them from you. Would you have some tea, or perhaps… a drink?” the man’s voice was warm and rich, but it was no secret that he was sizing Ryuunosuke up, trying to make heads or tails of the man so devoted to the dead(or so bored, he might’ve thought) that he’d go to such lengths. “Tea would be alright.”, Ryuunosuke replied, voice lacking the stutter of his heart. Jigoku laughed heartily, getting out two cups from a cabinet behind him. “I had a feeling you’d say that,” he said leaning down, drawing the other’s attention to the kettle sitting on a miniature stove. 

 

After pouring the tea, the man raised a hand to halt Ryuunosuke, reaching under the desk to pull out a bottle of rum. “I’d say English tea is horribly bland on its own, no?” he said humorously. Sensing the other’s apprehension, “Oh, don’t be so shy, young man!” he said, topping both cups with the alcohol.

 

Ryuunosuke Naruhodou was a fair man. He did not leave anything out when recounting the events, regardless of how it made him look. The mix of black tea and rum burned his mouth, but it was nothing worse than some of Iris’ more experimental blends. That is not to say she made bad tea, most of her teas were heavenly, but some flavors were just not meant to become… tea. 

 

Besides that, as much as he’d like to be, Ryuunosuke was not as kind to himself as the Grim Reaper, and he did not drink. That is why, despite all his conflicting feelings, he refused any attempts to refill his cup. The older man did not seem to share the sentiment, however, for he doubted Jigoku would even remember much come tomorrow. Or maybe he himself was just a lightweight, it didn’t matter.

 

It didn’t matter because he already felt the wood floor creaking under his knees. And, as meaningless as it was now,

Close your eyes, Asougi.

 

… 

 

He swallowed up the salt of shame, tongue dragging across his lips.

 

——

 

He laid calmly, in the safety of 221B’s attic. His debt had been paid. Do you see, now?

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Seong Ki-mun Nicknames: He briefly went by the name Kyle in middle school because he was tired of people teasing him about his “weird” name. But by the time he got to high school he didn’t care anymore and was back to going by his real name. (He also started purposely mispronouncing the names of anyone who made fun of his name– think A-a-ron.) Age: 30 Birthday: November 23rd Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Birthplace: Anaheim, California Current Location: NYC, New York Speaks: English, Korean (fluently, but his family teases him about his “American accent” all the time) Dominant Hand: Right Education: He got his Associates Degree from LaGuardia Community College, then transferred to NYU and got his Bachelors in Arts & Sciences. He cheerfully refers to college as the most money he’s ever wasted in his life. Occupation: Teaching Assistant in the English department at CUNY Hunter College. He mostly assists with the Writing and Poetry classes, but also helps out with various Literature classes and acts as a substitute teacher within the department if a professor is out sick or anything. He sometimes ends up being treated more like a personal assistant– sent out for coffee or lunch, asked to type up notes or sort paperwork, but he doesn’t mind. Vehicle: Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle bought him a white 1998 Honda Prelude when he graduated from high school, and he still has it to this day. He doesn’t drive much since it’s so impractical in the city, but he likes having it around as an option for longer trips, road trips, etc. Worldly Possessions: Tons of random art supplies– pencils, charcoal, sketchbooks, clay, paints, brushes, etc. Notebooks completely filled with poetry (with many of the poems scribbled out). A fancy smart TV. A bunch of bean bag chairs. A super nice tablet (Ki-Mun may have a bit of an obsession with having the latest technology~). Tons of socks– like, way too many socks. He has an entire dresser drawer just for his socks. Pet(s): A super adorable calico munchkin kitty named Bugsy.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: He says 5’8”, but he’s closer to 5’7”. Hair: Dark black. Very full, soft and shiny. Always seems to fall perfectly into place even with the bare minimum of effort. He usually just puts a bit of pomade in it and tousles it. Facial Hair: His facial hair is very patchy, so he doesn’t bother growing it out. Eye Colour: Brown Skin Tone: A makeup artist friend of his, Andi, occasionally asks to put makeup on Ki-mun as practice (and also for fun) and has informed Ki-mun that his skin tone is “warm beige.” She also informed Ki-mun that he is an Autumn– Ki-mun doesn’t know what that means, but he likes to share it as a fun fact anytime he has to introduce himself to a group of students. Clothing: Ki-mun dresses like a pretty typical hipster, honestly. Skinny jeans, oversized sweaters, band tees, peacoats, cardigans, leather jackets, etc. He usually wears contacts, but occasionally wears big ol’ glasses. Distinguishing Marks: Does being adorable count as a distinguishing feature? Face Claim: Justin H Min

H E A L T H Physical Health: Not bad. Ki-mun was born HIV positive, but has been taking antiretroviral medications since he was a kid. At this point, his viral load is basically non-existent and he is considered to be in remission, with a very good prognosis. Because of the medication he takes, his immune system is not the best, and he is much more susceptible to getting sick as a result. During cold and flu season, Ki-mun will often wear a mask when he’s out in public– his aunt and uncle ingrained that habit in him from a young age (and also wore masks themselves so he wouldn’t feel like the odd one out). Physical Abilities/Limitations: He’s decent at almost anything to do with art, but is especially good at drawing with charcoal. He also likes doing speed-sketches, figure sketches, etc. He is also weirdly good at baseball, and plays on the New York City Metro Baseball Team as part of the NY Blacksox during the season (June through August). Also, he is great at tossing food directly into people’s mouths– popcorn, M&Ms, etc. He hardly ever misses. Addictions: Definitely caffeine, but no serious addictions. Allergies: He gets a mild rash when he eats or touches strawberries. Mental Health: It’s not horrible? It’s not great, but not horrible. As much as he denies it, Ki-mun is pretty lonely, partly because he has such a hard time letting anyone in. He’s not the most trusting person, and tends to keep people at arms’ length until he’s sure they can be trusted. At the moment, he only has one person in his life that he would actually consider a friend. Everyone else is just an acquaintance to him. Ki-mun has sort of “accepted” the idea that he may end up being alone forever, even though that’s not really what he wants.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Ki-mun was born in Anaheim, California, and got off to a pretty rough start. His mother had AIDS, and unfortunately, it was passed on to Ki-mun. He was fine and had no symptoms for a few months, but eventually began to get sick, though thanks to swift treatment, he recovered quickly and the HIV never progressed. As Ki-mun got older, his mother’s health began to deteriorate, until finally they moved in with Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle so they could help take care of her. She eventually was bedridden and had to stay in the hospital full time. One of Ki-mun’s earliest memories is of visiting his mother in the hospital for the last time, which is absolutely one of his worst memories. After his mother passed away, Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle took him in and raised him as one of their own children. They love him like crazy and were amazing parents to him, and Ki-mun has always been grateful to them– not only for raising him, but for loving him as much as they love their actual children and never making him feel like he mattered less. He had a relatively happy childhood in spite of everything. After high school, Ki-mun decided to move to New York– he wanted a change of pace, and wanted a chance to start over and reinvent himself. He found a job and began taking classes at the community college, managed to get his associate’s degree after a year and a half, and transferred to NYU to get his Bachelors. Ki-mun was a very dedicated student and didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know any of his fellow classmates, going to parties, making friends, etc. Still, he ended up being roped into a friend/study group, which is where he ended up meeting Spencer. Spencer was the first person that Ki-mun had serious feelings for. They were friends for the better part of two years, each attracted to the other but both too nervous to say anything. Finally, a week before graduation, Ki-mun got up the courage to confess how he felt, and they became an official couple for all of one day. Unfortunately, once Ki-mun explained to Spencer about his diagnosis, Spencer flew off the handle and accused Ki-mun of being deceptive, being a liar, being manipulative, etc. He told Ki-mun he was disgusting and to never contact him again, and that was that. Shortly after Ki-mun’s heart was smashed to pieces, he packed up everything he owned and moved to a new area of the city, wanting to put at least a little bit of distance between himself and his old friend group. It was here that he met Andi and became close friends with her, and also found a job at CUNY Hunter College. Although Ki-mun feels that his life is generally good and happy– he enjoys his job, has a really good friend and coworkers he likes, he has gotten really into his poetry lately and has been reading it at open mic nights– he can’t help but feel that something is missing from his life. Job History: He worked in his aunt and uncle’s restaurant from ages fifteen to eighteen. When he moved to New York, he did a little bit of job hopping before finally settling on a job at a grocery store– he stayed at that job until he graduated from college and took his job at CUNY Hunter. Fondest Memories: Despite the fact that his childhood was pretty rough at times, Ki-mun has a lot of great memories as well. Family trips to Korea, various birthdays, his graduation day. He also has fond memories of his job at the grocery store– as much as he didn’t enjoy the work, he really liked his coworkers. Plus, all the various spur-of-the-moment adventures Andi has dragged him into. Worst Experiences: His mother dying when he was four years old. Finally getting to be with the person he’d been hung up on for two years, only to be broken up with after less than a day.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Sarcastic. Often sounds like he might be annoyed. He speaks in monotone with most people, even when he’s not in a bad mood, so people often think he’s angry or doesn’t like them (and to be fair, they are sometimes correct). If he’s talking to a friend, he’ll definitely be more animated and not so grumpy. And if, by chance, he’s talking to someone he’s attracted to (*coughDODGERcough*) then he’ll get a little tongue-tied, like he wants to flirt but he doesn’t really know how. Accent: American. When he speaks Korean, his American accent does come through a bit, something his family likes to tease him about. Favorite Phrases or Words: When he’s done listening to someone and wants them to stop talking to him/stop telling him a boring story, he will just say “cool” in the most monotone voice he can manage. It usually works. Usual Curse Words: He says “Jesus Christ” and “oh fuck” a lot.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: ISFP-T Sense of Humor: Definitely sarcastic and dry. He can be mean at times, but usually only if the person deserves it. As a result, Ki-mun has been described as “sassy” more than once. When he’s with people he actually likes, Ki-mun is a lot more lighthearted and not so sarcastic. Habits: Twists his lips a little when he’s thinking hard. Rolls his eyes when someone says something he thinks is dumb. Also rolls his eyes and sighs if he’s stuck in a conversation he really doesn’t want to have. When he’s reading his poetry out loud, he never looks up at the audience/whoever is listening because he’ll get too nervous if he sees everyone looking at him. Fears/Phobias: As much as he tries to act like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, Ki-mun is very secretive about certain aspects of himself, and is very afraid of someone finding out more about him than he wants them to know. He can’t stand having his privacy invaded, and it honestly makes him feel sick to think of the wrong person knowing too much about him (he still hates that he ever let himself be so vulnerable with Spencer, and blames himself for not seeing more clearly what kind of person he was). Strengths: Ki-mun is very creative and has a knack for all kinds of art. Although it’s hard to get to know him, once he becomes friends with someone, he is fiercely loyal and would do anything for them. As a teacher/teaching assistant, he is exceptionally patient– much more so than in other aspects of his life. He is always happy to answer questions and help anyone student who needs it. Underneath his harsh exterior, Ki-mun is a kind person who just has trouble opening himself up to others. Flaws: He has built up a lot of walls around himself in an effort to try and keep himself from getting hurt. Every time he’s let those walls down, he’s ended up regretting it and building them back up even higher. Anyone who wants to get to know him has to be very determined. Ki-mun is also not the type of person to be nice just because social conventions say he should– if he doesn’t like someone, he won’t talk to them. If he thinks someone is boring, he will tell them so. He can’t stand small talk and will never willingly engage in it. This makes him a very difficult person to interact with. Hopes/Desires: He is not entirely sure what he wants to do with his life, but right now, he’s happy just working and exploring his options. All he knows is that he wants to keep writing poetry, possibly get some published, and keep working in a field that lets him play to his strengths. Wildest Fantasy: A cure for HIV/AIDS being found. Self-Esteem: It’s a little complicated. On some level, Ki-mun is confident in himself and proud of all he’s accomplished in his life. But at the same time, he has it in his head that he doesn’t deserve some of the things he wants, such as a romantic relationship, marriage, a family, etc. He kind of views himself as damaged goods, unfortunately. Religion: He was raised Protestant, and his family used to be fairly devout. He went to church every Sunday, they read scriptures and said a family prayer every night, etc. But the older the kids got, the less active in the church the entire family became. His parents and siblings are still casually religious, and Ki-mun has held on to certain aspects of it, but he doesn’t care about going to church or reading the bible or anything.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Usually on his stomach, occasionally on his back. Boxers or Briefs?: Briefs Day or Night?: He’s okay with both. He works during the day, which he likes, and in the late afternoon/evening he goes to the cafe and hangs out or reads his poetry. Top or Bottom?: Bottom, but he’s willing to switch if his partner wants to. Partying or Relaxing?: He likes parties, but he really prefers relaxing when it comes right down to it.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: Andi is currently the only person Ki-mun would call a friend. He has a lot of acquaintances, but no one else that he’s really close to. Relationship History: He dated a couple of people in high school, but it was just puppy love and nothing serious. He had a couple of flings in college as well, just short-lived, purely physical relationships, and the only sexual encounters Ki-mun has ever had. And then there was Spencer. Ki-mun has not even been on a date since that whole debacle. Sexual Partners: Just the two guys Ki-mun had brief flings with. Thoughts About Sex: He enjoys it. He’s also pretty sure he’s never going to have it again, and has come to accept that.

P A R E N T S Name(s): His mother’s name was Seong Bo-ram. His aunt and uncle are named Park Min-ji and Park Kang-dae. Age(s): His mother passed away at the age of 28. His aunt is 57 and his uncle is 60. Social Standing: His mother was very well-liked, but was shunned by a lot of her friends after she not only became pregnant out of wedlock, but ended up contracting HIV. His aunt and uncle are well-respected in their community, and also well-off financially, firmly in the upper middle class. Occupation(s): His mom was a flight attendant. His aunt and uncle run a small Korean restaurant which is extremely popular– on weekends there’s often a line of people outside waiting to get in. Religion: Protestant-ish. Quality of Relationship With Their Children: Ki-mun’s mom loved him a ton– the reason she left him to her sister and brother-in-law is because she knew they would love Ki-mun as much as she did, and she was right. Ki-mun is still very close to his aunt and uncle. Living/Deceased: His mother is dead, but his aunt and uncle are alive.

S I B L I N G (S) Name(s): Park Kang-min,  Jang-mi (aka Jamie) Sanders, and Park Bo-ram (named after Ki-mun’s mother). Age(s): 33, 31, and 27. Social Standing: They’re all doing quite well in life and are upstanding members of society. Occupation(s): Kang-min is a commercial airline pilot, Jamie is currently a stay-at-home mom but plans to go back to work as an RN once her kids are a little older, and Bo-ram is a violinist with the California Symphony. Religion: They’re all sorta Protestant, but Jamie is the only one of them who still goes to church now and then. Quality of Relationship with Character: Even though they are technically Ki-mun’s cousins, they always refer to him as their brother. They’re all pretty close; they don’t talk all the time or anything, but when they do, they get along very well and have always enjoyed each other’s company. Living/Deceased: All living~

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Ki-mun lives in a modest studio apartment fairly close to both his work and Central Park. The apartment is well-decorated, with a lived-in, cozy sort of look. He’s very comfortable where he is, not at all bothered by living in a small space, especially considering how much more expensive it would be to upgrade to a one-bedroom.

[tren-fraszka]

Five Figure Fanwork Exchange 2020 Letter

Dear creator,

Thank you for taking your time to check my requests. I know my requests can sound a bit tricky, but please don’t be discouraged. I wish you will have good time writing first and foremost!

My AO3 is Tren, if you wish to check it out.

Likes: comedy, casefics, canon compliants, AUs, time loops, bodyswaps, roleswaps, “being hoisted by your own petard” plotlines, snark, pettiness, rivals, enemies to friends to lovers, violence, friendships, and character bonding,

DNW: explicit sex (makeouts and fade to black is okay), A/B/O, mpreg, rape depicted as positive (so no “it’s okay, because the other person enjoyed it/it was what they truly wanted”), trans headcanons, soulmate AUs, stories ending with surrender to fate/destiny, fourth wall breaking in canons where that doesn’t occur, character has cancer or other real-life terminal disease AU, word “queerplatonic”.

Also, I included what ships I’m okay with in each fandom. Please do not include any ships that aren’t canon and I have not allowed in those sections (if you feel really strongly about a ship I haven’t mentioned, you can always ask through mods just in case).

Additionally, while I almost never request fanart as possible medium, because I prefer my main gift to be fic, I would be very okay with receiving fanart treats. On another note, feel free to use my old letters if you get your hands on them. I never stop being interested in fandoms, and if I requested something once I will still want it in the future.

                                             REQUESTS

MARIMASHITA! IRUMA-KUN

I read new manga chapters as they get translated so feel free to incorporate anything from the manga that’s available in english. I’m not spoiled for anything beyond that, so please no spoilers for future developments.

Kiriwo Amy/Suzuki Iruma

There are many good ships with Iruma, but this one just has a lot things I like.  I love enemy ships with both sides being way too emotionally invested into each other so this was inevitable. I love how this relationship starts as this really wholesome friendship and school festival preparation, except Kiriwo turns out to be a bit messed up and wants to blow up everyone. But then they both accept the outcome and go on with their lives still thinking about each other. Iruma goes through a lot of trouble to keep the club operating even though Kiriwo has been pretty much expelled. And then Kiriwo is now obsessed with Iruma as his anthitesis and perfect enemy.

I’m okay with the potential story happening at any point in the canon. I would love both a story set before the festival while Kiriwo is still hiding his true colors or a story set after festival. Maybe Iruma runs into Kiriwo somewhere after he escapes prison and instead of calling an adult, he tries to stop Kiriwo from causing trouble on his own. As for pre-festival story. Maybe some upperclassmen steal important parts from the club and Iruma and Kiriwo set out to get them back.

Naberius Kalego & Suzuki Iruma

I love Kalego for being a much better take on Snape than original Snape ever was. The second the series made Kalego Iruma’s familiar I knew this was about to get good. And it was. I love how Kalego slowly warms up to Iruma, even if he is still allergic to his and Sullivan’s antics. I love that Kalego is actually a competent teacher who cares about his students, even if he would rather eat a whole lemon than admit it out loud.

For prompts, maybe Sullivan ends up having an important business and Opera isn’t available so he dumps looking after Iruma on Kalego for a few days. Or Iruma is struggling with studying since so much is new for him so Kalego ends up forced to help him catch up with the material (if you are following manga inclusion of Balam is always welcome). Or maybe Iruma gets into usual trouble ends up stranded somewhere and the only one he can call for help is his familiar.

AUs and ships

I love the worldbuilding around the demon world, so I would ask that if you decided to write an AU that it still incorporates demons. I would definitely love an AU where rather than getting summoned to demon world, Iruma accidentally summons either Kiriwo or Kalego into the human world. Maybe Iruma’s parents try to use him as an offering, but instead he ends up bound to a demon. I would love to see Kiriwo excited to unleash suffering (even if his weak powers severely limit him in that regard) onto human world just to discover that he made contract with the biggest pacifist possible. Or Kalego being torn between wanting to return home as soon as possible (he has classes to teach!) and wanting to somehow help the weird human child that just keeps getting into trouble. Any other demon-focused AU is also welcome. I’m also fine with any sort of AU divergences scenario. Maybe Iruma keeps accidentally sabbotaging Kiriwo’s terrorist plans without realizing it. Or Iruma ends up summoning Kalego more often as his familiar when he gets into trouble.

As for ships, I’d rather avoid any love triangle scenarios for this canon, so please focus on just one pairing per character (competing for Iruma’s attention is normal for this canon, I’d just rather not see outright romantic competition). It’s self-explainatory for Kiriwo request, but if you want to include some shipping elements into the Kalego request I also ship Iruma/Ameri, Iruma/Alice and Kalego/Balam.

RE:ZERO

I watched the first season of anime, as well as the two OVA, and I’m now following the second one. Please don’t include any spoilers for events that haven’t been yet adapted. I’m fine with mentions of stuff from Light Novel that adaptation has skipped, just please make sure to establish them properly.

Natsuki Subaru & Beatrice  Natsuki Subaru & Felix Argyle & Julius Euclius & Reinhard van Astrea  Natsuki Subaru & Puck 

I love how many great interactions Suberu has in Re:Zero with various people, not just Emilia. Feel free to mix my requests or include any other characters, I love all of them.

Natsuki Subaru & Puck

I adore how Subaru immediately gets along with Puck due to their shared admiration of Emilia. I would love a story where the two of them decide to work together to throw a surprise party for Emilia or to make a present for her. Or maybe they need to work together to protect Emilia against a threat. Or for something lighter, their shared adventures of pranking everyone they can in Roswaal’s manor. Feel free to include as much Emilia as you need for this relationship, since Puck is contracted with her.

Natsuki Subaru & Felix Argyle & Julius Euclius & Reinhard van Astrea

I immediately loved the queen candidates’ knights and the relationships between them. I would greatly enjoy seeing them work together. Maybe someone is plotting to harm queen candidates and they join forces to bring them down. Or maybe the queen candidates are busy with some bureaucracy and the bored knights decide to spend a night at town, which ends with all sorts of shenanigans. Maybe Subaru and Julius decide to have some sort of competiton that hilariously goes out of control. Or Reinhardt and Subaru rope everyone into helping some poor grandma, but her straightforward request ends up becoming much more difficult to execute than anyone predicted. Alternatively, Felix, Julius, and Reinhardt decide that Subaru has been pushing himself way too much recently and with silent blessing from Emilia they drag him into the local hot springs to make him finally rest a bit and make sure that give Felix plenty of time for some additional magical treatment.

Feel free to also include Aldebaran into the group if you want. He had very little screen time in anime, so I didn’t want to make this request more difficult than it already is, but if you want to write him too I would be very happy with his inclusion.

Natsuki Subaru & Beatrice

Beatrice is a fascinating character. She’s clearly very powerful, but ends up hiding herself in the library due to her strongly hinted tragic past. Watching Subaru try to make her open up more to him and other people is very interesting. I would love to see more of his attempts to befriend Beatrice. Maybe he suggests they do a book club and makes Beatrice choose books they should read. Or alternatively Subaru ends up trapped inside a magical book and Beatrice is the only one who can help navigate him so he can escape from it. Or alternatively a witch cultist invided the Roswaal mansion and Subaru and Beatrice need to work together to find and neutralize the threat.

AUs and ships

I would prefer no setting changes for this story, any other AUs are fine. I especially love Subaru’s reset mechanic, so feel free to abuse that if you want. If you want some AU ideas, maybe another character starts remembering bits and pieces of the reseted timelines. Or maybe Otto turns out to be a witch cultist in disguise and uses the trust he earned to cause problems.

I’m okay with acknowledging Subaru’s canon crush on Emilia, though I’d rather it wasn’t framed as an endgame ship. I’m okay with pairing Subaru with pretty much any guy in the series (especially other queen candidate knights) or leaving who he will end up with ambiguous.

MY NEXT LIFE AS A VILLAINESS (ANIME)

I watched anime and read manga for this story, so please don’t spoil me for the parts not yet adapted from Light Novel.

Group: Katarina Claes/Gerald Stuart (My Next Life as a Villainess)

I ran into this manga on accident, but I definitely don’t regret it. I love how Katarina ends up solving all the problems in this series either through her efforts or by sheer accident and how she ends up becoming the actual protagonist. This charmingly comedic story has a lot of heart and I crave more.

I think I like Gerard the most out of all potential suitors for Katarina’s heart and would love to see more of his crush on Katarina and unsuccessful attempts at actually wooing her. We only see him through Katarina’s perspective, who can’t separate him from the Gerard she knows from the game, even though he changed under her influence. I would definitely be up for a story where Katarina starts to notice that maybe her idea of Gerard doesn’t exactly line up with the reality. Or maybe she remains blissfully ignorant and decides to go in-depth investigation into finding more of Gerard’s weaknesses, because she saw him do something nice for Maria and now she is sure the end is near for her and she wants to be extra prepared. Or maybe he takes her on a vacation trip to escape from her other suitors, but everything goes terribly wrong (maybe their carriage crashes forcing them to spend the night in the woods), and yet both of them end up having a lot of fun.

I don’t mind including any other characters, since they are a colorful bunch. I read this manga for harem shenanigans, and you are free to include as much of that as you want.

AUs and ships

I’m okay with AUs and canon divergences. The story is already a huge canon divergence after all, so if you want to twist it even more, that’s fine by me. If you want to play around with characters accidentally getting transported to the alternate world where Katarina is the original Katarina or getting a glimps of it, I would be very much for it. I love the idea of Gerard meeting the original Katarina and having all sorts of complicated feelings about her, but ultimately acting kind towards her, because he believes that this is what Katarina he knows would have wanted. And just imagine the utter chaos that would result in two Katarinas running around.

I’m okay with all canonical crushes being acknowledged, however due the nature of my request I want the endgame ship to be Katarina/Gerard. I don’t mind other characters being shipped with each other.

TOWER OF GOD

I’m caught up with the newest chapters of the webtoon.

Khun Aguero Agnis/Twenty-Fifth Baam | Jyu Viole Grace (Tower of God)

I got into this series through anime but then I binged the rest of this webtoon and wow it was a blast. I love the complicated world of the tower, the colorful cast, and the complicated relationships between characters. And I love Aguero for being a total asshole and schemer, who becomes a better person due to Bam’s influence.

I’m fine with the fic being set at any point in the story, whether it be beginning of their relationship right after they both started to climb the tower or anything else down the line. I love the slow change that Aguero goes through starting as the very selfish person who burned most of the bridges behind him into a slightly more caring but still willing to burn all the bridges if it’s for Bam person. Also, Bam’s arc of slowly finding himself through interacting with others is great. For some ideas, maybe they have to go undercover to achieve some goal and end up pretending to be boyfriends to throw off suspicions (bonus points for Khun making their supposed relationship’s backstory more ridiculous each time someone asks about it). Or something goes wrong while they are escaping resulting in Bam and Khun getting chained together with shinsu-resistant handcuffs, which begins their epic journey to find and defeat the person who has key to it. Meanwhile Khun is slowly losing it, because he isn’t prepared to handle someone’s constant presence 24h a day, especially if it’s Bam. Or any other towe climbing shenanigans. Maybe Khun wagers something he really shouldn’t have (like his memories) and the team has to get them back, because Khun regresses into his pre-Bam meeting self and is even more of an asshole than usual.

Please use the names Bam and Jue Viole Grace respectively in the fic, because that was the official translation when I picked up the comics (I’m assuming it was different in the past from the AO3 tag).

AUs and ships

I would prefer no setting changes for this story, Tower is a honestly fascinating place and I want to enjoy more of it, but all other AUs are okay. For some suggestions, maybe Bam doesn’t manage to escape from FUG. Khun finds him and decides that the only way to help is to make sure that Elders acknowledge Bam as a Slayer, so he starts to climb ranks of FUG. 

I’m okay with mentions of Bam’s crush on Rachel, but mostly in the context of his past feelings for her. Just please focus on Bam/Aguero. For some other ships, I’m okay with Anaak/Ran and Anaak/Endorsi. As for other characters, you are free to ship them if you want, just don’t ship Hwaryun with anyone.

[ayakashiramblings]

ABC NSFW Headcanons: Aoi

In celebration of Aoi being released, here we are, coming for him! … Wait… no…   Also, I am going to age him up to 18 years old because again, that’s the legal age in Japan. Finally, ignore the ‘Location’ part. 

A - ‘Aftercare’ (What they’re like after sex)

Boys, meet your king and take some notes from the student, y’all. 

Wipes you down and helps you shower, keeps you hydrated and even wraps you up in a burrito of blankets. 

He does ask ‘How was it?’ because I have a feeling you are his first so he isn’t experienced but would let you set the pace.

B - ‘Body’ (Body Part of Yours he Loves)

Aoi is the kind to worship you.

But let’s be honest. You’re his first woman. 

He will HAVE to go for the boobs. 

It doesn’t help they are the only things stopping him from being completely consumed in your heart.

Tease him with them and he will lose it.

C - ‘Cum’ (How does his cum taste like/look like)

He is not even 20 yet but the poor boy is overworked. 

So when he gets a release, it will be in HUGE amounts, albeit not in a complete one-shot and in gradual intervals. 

The good news is that he probably cooks for himself so knows to eat his veggies. 

Moreover, he doesn’t consume alcohol which would have affected the taste/amount of the semen. 

He did indicate a slight interest in Ramune bottles though so I don’t think it’s going to be THE perfect taste. 

Definitely in the top 2 though; slightly sweet with a tangy after-taste.

D - ‘Dirty Secret’ (DUH)

Has always wanted to paint… on your body.

It could be of anything, some sensuous flower, fierce animal or your favourite quote from a good book, he just wants to mark you in every way possible.

So why not his own art?

E - ‘Experience’ (Does he know what he is doing?)

One word. 

Student. 

He’s probably blushing like mad even after trying to discreetly read the books he loaned from Ginnojo… 

Which lead to an awkward study-buddy kind of thing as they debated between themselves on how certain positions were even possible.

Both failed the theoretical but at least Aoi will get practical points later...

F - ‘Favorite Position’ (Again, duh)

He wouldn’t know much in the beginning but after a bit of experimentation, he settles for...

Coital Alignment Technique. 

That technically was only defined in 1988 BUT that is not the point.

The giver lies above the receiver, moving up until his erection is pointing “down,” the dorsal side of the penis pressing against the clitoris as he penetrates.

Essentially, it’s like the Missionary but adjusted so not only can he bring you closer to a good orgasm, he gets to see each and every one of your expressions and be exposed to the pulse near your collar bones.

G - ‘Goofy’ (Serious or humorous?)

I know some might think he is all for serious lovemaking due to his stringent nature but I disagree. 

He and MC seem more in-tune with each other than the rest of the team, and he is more empathetic and considers her needs and likes, without basing it on societal values or whatever norms.

If there is a funny moment or this is part of cheering MC up, he is more than willing to pull out a joke. 

Sure, he might be dying from sheer mortification if you laugh too hard but your smile is enough for him to forget about it and laugh along and learn from it.

H- ‘Hair under THERE’ (Pubic Hair Treatment, does the carpet match the shades?)

He’s a clean-freak, he’s good with his hands, what do you mean he doesn’t manscape??? 

Pry this thought out of my cold, roaming hands. 

And yes, it’s the same shade, if not slightly lighter.

I- ‘Intimacy’ (How they are doing the moment, romantic aspects)

This one depends on several factors honestly. 

If he actually overcomes his fear of peering into people’s emotions, he might want to feel the warm embrace of your heart (with your consent, of course). 

He does get embarrassed and may cover up any cute gestures with abrasive words but nothing will stop him from letting you know how much he appreciates you... even if you may or may not need a Tsundere-translator in the midst of it all.

At least he nails the whole atmosphere, making it nice and soft just to be in each other’s embrace.

J- ‘Jack Off’ (Masturbation)

Before MC? Hell no. 

Dude only works himself up to a frenzy over dirty dishes and broken paintbrushes. 

Meeting MC? Starts aggressively chopping anything in sight and taking out his frustrations in the cooking.

He then realizes the ingredients are getting more pounding moments than he has and starts to relieve himself when he is absolutely sure no one is around to stumble into his room.

Poor boy doesn’t know where to start though and it is only when he imagines his hands being yours does he get anywhere.

K- ‘Kink’ (One or two of his kinks)

I think I have said this before but unwrapping you like a present is a gift in itself.

Ribbons, ribbons, oh so pretty...

Look me in the eye and tell me that tugging on his long, luscious locks doesn’t get him off.

Consent. No, but seriously, him being constantly reassured that you want this as much as he does just encourages him to explore more.

L- ‘Location’ (Favourite places to do the do)

On Oji’s bed so that the old man can’t sleep anymore on that mattress.

Ok, but really, he would love it in either of your bedrooms so that HE can take care of cleaning up the mess and no one else. 

Anywhere is fine, the wall, the bed, the floor. Just let him have access to some cleaning supplies.

M- Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything about you being happy. 

Heck, you could be smiling over some random 2D dude getting his route released in a few hours in some manga and he would be hiding a raging boner.

Did I mention ribbons? If not, then ribbons.

N- ‘No.’ (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Whatever it is, no foodplay. How dare you waste food made from ingredients Oji-san FINALLY remembered?!

No threesomes either because he is always worried you might get Kuya involved...

O- ‘Oral’ (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He is a GREAT giver. 

Not only that, HE ACTUALLY KNOWS NOT TO JUST FLICK IT.

Ginnojo, does your bookshop have some hidden Sex Bible or something?

Firm, repetitive rolls before sucking on the engorged clit, all the while letting his one free hand grab onto some other erogenous zone of yours.

Initially, super reluctant to receive because “MC! It-it-it down there?!”

A bit self-conscious about the taste and if you can actually breathe. 

Until you start to let your tongue wander over the whole of his length.

Now, he likes to give and receive.

P- ‘Pace’ (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

He’s going for a marathon session whenever possible. 

He loves lengthy lovemaking where all his senses are aroused. 

That means sexy music and lots of foreplay to get a stimulating hour (or two).

Q- ‘Quickie’ (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He would LOVE it ONLY if you made a feisty quickie at work. 

Rip off his clothes, and go at it as soon as he walks through the door. 

That I-need-you-now approach boosts his confidence and his lust.

R- ‘Risk’ (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Honestly, only if you suggest it. 

And he has ensured that it will not jeopardize your safety. 

And that it is technically physically possible, he has all the equipment...

Essentially, as long as both of you are prepared, he is more than willing to.

S - ‘Stamina’ (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

The first few times is a soft ‘2’ because he doesn’t know his own reactions (yet). 

However, he quickly learns how to control yours and his release.

Suddenly, he wants to go at it like rabbits over long durations.

Seriously contemplates making a schedule.

T - ‘Toy’ (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

If you wanted to try one, he will... struggle to buy them. 

So he isn’t so keen on them.

Also because he prefers learning your body’s natural responses to his touches and not through some plastic equipment that is...

Wait, why is it rotating?

Is it another wand?

U - ‘Unfair’ (how much they like to tease)

In the initial stages? You are the Queen of teasing this poor fool.

But remember, he can get his revenge as a Seer. 

Basically, you are going to regret it MUCH, MUCH later.

... Provided he gets either drunk enough to say it or you two are like maybe, 1 month into the relationship.

V - ‘Volume’ (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is more into heavy panting, and airy, hot breaths.

Because he wants to focus on your moans and is a bit self-conscious. 

But occasionally, rough grunts overlap with your sounds, especially the closer the two of you become.

W - ‘Wildcard’ (Random Headcanon)

You and his first time will make him extremely worried about hurting you, even if you aren’t a virgin.

Because one good/bad thing about his appearance is that sometimes girls randomly chat to ‘her’ about their lives… including very, very, very bad sex. 

Until you make him discover the joys of voyeur vision. 

Slowly undressing for him, and then starting to pleasure yourself. 

The sight had made him weak in the knees, and he had quickly joined in to learn the ropes.

Oh boy, he is a great student. :D

X - ‘X-ray’ (How is the package?)

Hidden in loose boxers (to hide any reaction to certain actions of yours)

I’m going to be honest, he is probably just average in terms of length. 

BUT GREAT GIRTH.

Even better that his glans is nearly the same size as his width. 

A bit curved towards the stomach, with some prominent veins.

Y - ‘Yearning’ (How high is his sex drive?’)

High. Super high.

This is going to be first and hopefully the only partner. 

He wants to ravish you at least 3 times a week.

A bit interesting it falls on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Z - ‘Zzzz…’ (How fast do they fall asleep?)

Initially, it takes him a good half-an-hour because he is so busy tending to you until you get him to relax with pillow talks.

Soon though, he likes to cuddle with you before hitting the hay.

[droo216]

if we’re going to reboot CLUE, let’s do it right

On the stormy evening of October 13th, multi-billionaire John Boddy (Christian Bale) held a dinner party. Unfortunately, the host did not make it through the night. Who killed Mr. Boddy… and where… and with what? And why did he throw a party with so many people who might want to kill him??

Was it Miss Scarlet in the Dining Room with the Candlestick? Passion, love, seduction; anger, violence, danger – red is the color of extremes, and Veronica Scarlet (Gal Gadot) is aptly named. She’ll be insulted if you call her a gold digger and correct you with the word “platinum.” This saucy woman drips sarcasm and oozes sex, so it’s not a surprise to most when they learn that she runs a specialized hotel and a telephone service which provides gentlemen with the company of a young lady for a short while. But this sinister seductress has secrets to hide her secrets, and her business is actually a front for international espionage. She’ll steal, spy, and stab for anyone willing to pay the price. Men and women alike are smitten by her charm, allowing her to avoid suspicion. Her recent relationship with Mr. Boddy has caused quite the scandal, but Miss Scarlet insists she has finally found love. Are those real tears she shed at the sight of his corpse, or was Mr. Boddy just another assignment?

Was it Colonel Mustard in the Study with the Revolver? Heavily decorated for his service, James Mustard (Denzel Washington) is a retired military man who holds honors as a marksman with both elephant gun and small caliber pistol. He and Mr. Boddy became acquainted through their shared membership in a distinguished gentlemen’s hunting club. The Colonel can talk for hours on end about guns as well as his escapades – apparently when he retired, his arrogance did not. The Colonel may be regarded as a hero among his peers, but he is not without a dark side. One evening, over several shared cocktails with Mr. Boddy and one of the Colonel’s former colleagues, a certain Captain Victor Navy, Mustard divulged that during his service, he stole essential Air Force radio parts and sold them on the black market. Furthermore, the Colonel is currently part of a team developing the next fusion bomb for the government. Captain Navy passed away quite unexpectedly just a few weeks after his visit, and the Colonel has been paranoid about Mr. Boddy carrying around his secret ever since. Did Mr. Boddy go the same way Captain Navy did?

Was it Mrs. White in the Kitchen with the Knife? The daughter of an opera singer and a construction worker, Millicent White (Viola Davis) has been in the service of the Boddy family since she was twenty years old, when she became their maid upon her marriage to then-butler Laurence Snow. She’s held five different roles in the Boddy Mansion over the years – maid, cook, nanny, housekeeper, and now head of household – and has been married five different times as well. The butler, the illusionist, the funeral director, and the nuclear physicist all died under, shall we say, mysterious circumstances. The most recent husband, Henry White, Mr. Boddy’s accountant, was the shortest marriage and the most graphic death of the five. He was found dead at home, his head had been cut off and so had his… you know. She describes herself as a “poor devoted soul” and does seem quite distraught over Mr. Boddy’s death, despite claiming that he’s treated her horribly for years. She does not at all seem to be the short-tempered matriarch described by her staff. Did this dutiful servant’s attitude finally spoil?

Was it Mr. Green in the Billiard Room with the Lead Pipe? A businessman known across the country for his charm – and his connections – Matthew Green (John Cho) entered into a partnership with Mr. Boddy several years ago. Raised on the streets of New York City by his single mother, Mr. Green was exceptionally bright and did not surprise anyone by rising to the top of his class at Yale. A whiz with numbers, money, and finance, this perfect gentleman may be known for his charisma but not necessarily his charity. This greedy man has never been married because every man he’s dated has eventually been scared off by his massive jealousy. Mr. Green is a loyal friend, for better or for worse, and was truly take aback when he learned that Mr. Boddy did not share this quality when their business relationship came to abrupt ending. Mr. Boddy killed his business with Mr. Green – did Mr. Green make it his business to kill Mr. Boddy?

Was it Mrs. Peacock in the Conservatory with the Rope? A faded flower, but by no means wilting, Henrietta Peacock (Cate Blanchett) spent her younger years dominating the pageant scene until she gave it all up to study ornithology with a specialty in birds of prey. After marrying her husband, Senator Graham Peacock, she established the Peacock Salvation Society and single-handedly saved the loggerhead shrike from extinction. Swept up in her husband’s world of political games, Mrs. Peacock began accepting bribes in return for delivering the Senator’s vote by slipping greenbacks in plain envelopes under the door of the men’s room. The Boddy Estate resides next to the Peacock Mansion, and the neighbors were quite friendly until a stray shot shattered a glass pane of Mrs. Peacock’s aviary, taking out her last pied-bill grebe and releasing the remaining birds. Mr. Boddy invited his distraught neighbor over for his dinner party with the intention of making amends, but sharp-as-a-hawk Mrs. Peacock detected his insincerity, bringing her anger to a boil. Did Mrs. Peacock manage to exact her revenge on her nasty neighbor?

Was it Professor Plum in the Library with the Wrench? Curtis Plum (Michael C. Hall) and Mr. Boddy were roommates for all four years of college, and over the years their relationship developed from strangers to close friends to bitter rivals. They hadn’t even spoken in nearly a decade and a half. Professor Plum has made a living practicing psychology while simultaneously teaching classes at a local university. About a month ago, rumors began circulating that the Professor was a bit too friendly with some of his female students, and finally the girls started coming forward and he was sacked. His practice was shut down not long after when it came to light that some of Professor Plum’s lady patients had received special treatment as well. The Professor was initially surprised when his former roommate reached out and offered an invitation to his home but it all made sense when he arrived and realized it was all a ploy so Mr. Boddy could gloat about his amazing success and ridiculous fortune. Were hs current woes and problems of the past enough to push him over the edge?

Was it Miss Peach in the Lounge with the Poison? Two days before Mr. Boddy’s fateful dinner party, Caroline Peach (Jessica Chastain) showed up at Mr. Boddy’s door claiming to be his long-lost niece. It’s hard to invalidate the story. After all, Mr. Boddy was only two years old when his older sister ran away from home, and Miss Peach does seem to have a rather elaborate and specific explanation: allegedly, when sixteen-year-old Pearl Boddy left home, she met and fell in love with Samuel Peach. They ran a little flower shop together and were a happy family until Caroline was seven years old, at which time a fire burned their house down, claiming Mr. and Mrs. Peach’s lives. Caroline was taken in by family friends Benjamin and Annabeth Meadow-Brook, and at age eighteen she took over the flower shop. Her favorite flower, of course, is the deadly nightshade. Apparently she only just learned of her relation to Mr. Boddy and thought it would be “just peachy” to reconnect with the only family she has left in the world. Although she certainly seems upset over dear Uncle J’s passing, everyone knows what she’s wondering: did he change his will in time for her to receive an inheritance?

Was it Monsieur Brunette in the Hall with the Axe? A man of many talents, many accents, and many passports, Alphonse Brunette (Oscar Isaac) deals in art and arms. Last year he almost made a killing in Paris when he produced what he swore were the missing appendages of the Venus de Milo. Monsieur Brunette’s adversaries claim that he deals entirely in the black market, but it has never been proven. Over the past decade, he sold a number of Impressionist works to Mr. Boddy, who was thrilled to own a series of genuine Monets. Monsieur Brunette arrived at the dinner party believing himself to be in good terms with Mr. Boddy, and even thought perhaps he was being set up with his business partner, the charming man in the emerald suit. But Monsieur Brunette was horrified when Mr. Boddy cornered him and started dropping names: “Joseph Brown,” “Friedrich Brun,” “Diego Marrón.” With his secrets in danger of coming to light, did this man of many names give his primary purchaser the finishing stroke?

Was it Madame Rose in the Ballroom with the Crossbow? Mr. Boddy’s eccentric former secretary, Valentina Rose (Salma Hayek), moved back to her hometown in New Orleans several years ago after a loud and aggressive argument with her then-employer. She has been seeking her fortune as, well, a fortune teller. Claiming to have the Third Eye, Madame Rose uses her crystal ball and tarot cards to “help” those who stumble across her doorstep. Although her past is shrouded in mystery, she seems to see the future as clear as crystal – at least, sometimes she does. She can’t be expected to get it right every time, now can she? Not long ago, in the midst of a séance, she saw a dark and ominous cloud descending over the Boddy Mansion, and took the next train to warn her old boss. But was the message she delivered a warning – or a threat?

Was it Sergeant Gray in the Cellar with the Blunderbuss? Local law enforcer Julian Gray (Clark Gregg) has known Mr. Boddy for years, and upon an early retirement due to a leg injury, was hired full-time as Boddy’s head of security and live-in body guard. Never married and no children, Sergeant Gray has nothing but time on his hands, and has used that particular commodity to his advantage by snooping around the Boddy Mansion. The Sergeant has been paying off a blackmailer for years – in fact, he is the co-founder of the Police Blackmail Awareness Program – and was shocked when he recently broke into a locked drawer in Boddy’s Study and discovered dozens of files documenting his secret past as an assassin. After living so many years under Boddy’s thumb without even knowing it, was Sergeant Gray finally able to turn the tables?

[6of575-oldblog]

happy end - excerpt

++

This elf, sin’dorei by the look of ruddy skin and forest green eyes, is an older elf. Like him. There’s a weariness here. It’s in the flat stare that sizes him up, and the introductions that come without a customary bow. Niceties get waved aside with a rusty voice and a gleaming metal hand.

“I’m Ven’ari Daybreak,” this elf states in cultured Common that’s at odds with the informal treatment. “You’re Senumeros Quicksand. I already know, so let’s move on. Oh, and--do me a favour? Skip the teacher-student claptrap. The day I let someone call me “honoured master” to my face is the day I die. ”

Meros clicks his teeth, points clattering together to bite off scripts he’s learned in meeting others. He’s grateful for less to talk aloud with, but at a loss for its lack.

Ears held loose and low with uncertainty, Meros trails behind at Daybreak’s back. Night elves are usually taller than their exiled “cousins.” Daybreak is no exception: Meros might be a little short for the standard male night elf, but he still has several inches of leg on this blood elf. He has to mind his pace or trod on unfortunate heels.

Besides, what Daybreak loses in height is gained in bulk. The bare, broad back and squared shoulders Meros stares down at are just further reminders of old inadequacies he still sees with his own lanky body.

One of his other adopted brothers joked with him once that at least his heathen god Elune saw fit to edge him in hard lines and gave him an ugly face to match his uglier voice. They’d had a good laugh about it, a troll and an elf, both making light of raw truths.

And it is true:

His lost years took their toll. Ate him away. Gentler curves that She graced him with were the first to go and sure he counts his blessings--but still. Still. He’s put on a lot of muscle he’s proud of in the long years since the eldest of three trolls found him amid desolate ruins but it’s none of it the blocky hips or the wide back of the elf he walks with.

Meros is always going to be too narrow-shouldered and long-limbed. Too small in body. Too... Meros.

Daybreak leads them to a rope-and-plank bridge. It spans a vast ravine and a part of the temple Meros has yet to visit. He’s a bit charmed that Daybreak pointedly marches across the swaying walkway with chin lifted and eyes pointed straight forward.

More so when he hears, “I’ve mastered many things--but fear of heights is still a daily walk.”

He grins his laughter at Daybreak instead of give it out: a close-mouthed grimace of all his teeth and his eyes squinted almost shut.

Daybreak looks at him from the side for it. Says nothing at first.

Meros isn’t so good anymore at knowing the correct expressions from others. He can’t name whether he’s offended his substitute teacher or not, but the weathered face that he carefully watches for clues of doesn’t smile back at him, and those pink ears, reddened even more for the brisk chill, are set forward and held stiffly high.

When they reach the security of the other side and Daybreak has feet planted to firm stone again, Meros shyly offers a mangled apology in quiet Thalassian. He means it--even if he can’t say his rhotics right ever again.

The new look this earns from Daybreak is a lingering one, though the distant expression and neutral cant of ears remains. Meros thinks maybe it’s sort of searching. Or confused. He wouldn’t blame Daybreak for confusion. He knows exactly how he sounds, and it’s not just his accent in Thalassian that’s atrocious.

“Lianji mentioned this,” is said to him at length, and not unkindly.

His heart stutters in his chest, torn between anxious shame--and shameless gratitude.

“I’m not going to ask.”

Meros blinks slowly, his head canting sideways enough to be noticeable. It dredges out a laugh from Daybreak at last. Rusty as the blood elf’s voice. Twice as soft.

“I don’t care about what happened, here--” Daybreak reaches up and taps Meros on dull grey lips with metal fingers made too cold to be pleasant. Then promptly pantomimes throwing something aside. “--Or there, yesterday. I’m sure that’s rude of me, and I’m sure both things came from justly, tragic places.”

Daybreak stares off briefly into middle space. Starts to massage fingers into where grafted metal joins flesh. Finally says, more lowly, “We elves are good at that, aren’t we?”

Meros thinks of another elf with a false limb like this. Skin so deep red it makes Daybreak’s look white. An elf so small and so young and so full of spite, as much as with hope.

Meros airs out his grimace some more, masquerades it as another smile so it strains his hawkish face with his efforts.

“Yeah,” Daybreak agrees with a squint upward. “Sure as the sun, we are.”

Then with a roll of his strong shoulders in a careless shrug, Daybreak adds:

“Elves endure. We keep going. Like you and I should be. This way.”

Falling back into step slightly behind and to the side, Meros mulls over Daybreak’s comments while they take winding stairs down and down and down further. These fan out and circle at their end into a modest courtyard, penned in by a trickling moat and graced with a well-tended shrine.

He doesn’t really quite know what to think or feel about Daybreak’s easy dismissal or the deliberate omission. Others have been eager to draw out all the details; their appropriate noises of sympathy are always paid like some kind of ticket bought to a goblin’s sideshow. A part of it, Meros is sure, is morbid fascination. The need to share an othered experience for a few moments without the horror of actually living it all the time.

He decides it’s a relief: to not have to struggle through vocal explanations for once. For his handicap to simply be expected, adapted around, and moved on from to other things more pertinent and pressing.

It’s a little like being home with his partner. Abruptly, Meros has got another kind of smile slipping onto his face. It must be a particularly stupid and mooning one for how Daybreak eyes him even longer after they both stop at the centre of the stone shrine.

Feigning study of elegant coils chiseled out in the Jade Serpent’s image, Meros tries to school his face into something at least marginally less lovesick.

“That’s the closest thing to serenity,” Daybreak says next to him, “I’ve seen on you since you came here.”

It’s Meros’ turn now to look aside. He raises both bushy brows until the feathery tips quiver at bowed ends with their weight. He tries hard to make his unspoken question plain enough. He also tries just as hard not to give into the full-body blush threatening to heat him up from inside out at the thought of being observed so closely enough or for long enough that such words apply.

His effort works. He thinks. He isn’t laughed at and Daybreak takes half a step into Meros’ space. Close enough to jab a finger at him, just under his hooked nose.

“Whatever’s got you making that ridiculous dopey face--you should use it.”

He considers this even while reflexively leaning his head away for breathing room where Daybreak isn’t yielding it.

In faint puzzlement, Meros says, “My... fah-moh-ee?” like it’s half an answer, half a question. He watches the moment of struggle as Daybreak’s mouth moves to repeat what’s been awkwardly given. Meros is painfully familiar with this soundless shaping of the limited syllables he can actually voice and the old, disgusted shame threatens to creep back in.

Finally: “If that’s it.”

Which is vague enough it doesn’t tell Meros if Daybreak knows what was said or if pride just won’t allow admission.

Either way, the point’s been made. Daybreak withdraws, that finger kept levied in his direction with an unerring aim.

“Focus on what helps. The pandaren’ll all tell you meditation’s about clearing your thoughts. It is, and--it isn’t. They like to use breathing as their focus--didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Ah. There it is. He can’t hold back the body blush or the shame now. Face burning in spite of the cold, Meros tucks his ears and tips his chin down until the puffy green bangs curling thickly at his forehead slide low to hide his eyes from view. The bound tails at either side of high cheekbones slip across his collarbone and dangle weighted before his chest.

“You’re not alone.”

He peeks through his hair at Daybreak. The blush gets worse just like he feared. It’s a dry awful heat spreading down his tattooed neck and up along his long, heavy ears.

Rather than clarify, Daybreak’s index finger slides to one side of Meros and draws his gaze with it. Ears rising some to swivel that way, Meros stares back up the winding steps and thinks of the ease in walking the path down to here.

“There’s a multitude of methods, Quicksand. You just have to find yours.”

Teeth clicking and lips thinning out, Meros counters dubiously with, “Whah if I cah-ah eveh fie ih?”

“If you can’t--? Oh. Tch.”

Silver-coin eyes tilt around to Daybreak, though Meros keeps his face angled to the steps.

“With that attitude, sure. Be hard to find, then.”

Reflexively, Meros shows his teeth again, and this time--Daybreak smiles, too. It’s reserved and small and done mostly with the eyes. Daybreak’s closed smile is comforting to Meros because it’s familiar. He almost asks:

Were you a soldier, once? Because it reminds him strongly of another just as reserved who smiled only with their eyes. Who always spoke kindly and encouraged him, too.

He doesn’t ask. He’s aware he’s desperate to chase away his loneliness in this remote peak surrounded by strangers.

But still.

He flicks the lighter greyed tips of his fingers from in front of his mouth on outward. As he tilts his left hand so that it fluidly presents from sign to outstretched palm held out and waiting, he forces out:

“Fhake Ou.”

“Sure,” Daybreak takes his hand and clasps Meros by his forearm with the other. “Let’s begin, yeah?”

The moment that he’s let go Meros bobs his chin--and his fist. He’s eager agreement in a wider flash of all his filed teeth with ears forward and quivering in anticipation.

“Yes.”

The smile Daybreak shares is kind and the blood elf’s not so terrible company either.

So maybe this teacher will like him.

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

From the Civil War to the football field, we have been celebrating the wrong values

Capt. Norwood Penrose Hallowell

Capt. Norwood Penrose Hallowell (Collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society)

Image without a caption

By

Sally Jenkins

Columnist

June 11, 2020 at 3:16 a.m. PDT

There are a half-dozen statues of Stonewall Jackson peering from pedestals, so tall he can see over three states. For a representation of Pen Hallowell, you can find only an archival photograph of a mildly handsome bearded young man in plain tunic, one hand holding a forage cap, the other resting lightly on a sword. Even in that, though, you can see his easy athleticism and his backbone.

It’s not really your fault if you don’t know who Hallowell was. His life and slim writings largely have been buried by “Gone With the Wind” nonsense. They should be revived and made required reading in locker rooms. Maybe then there wouldn’t be so many misconceptions about what constitute guts. Or such a romance with that over-glossed traitor Robert E. Lee and all the other Reb glorification that has haunted our sports fields, police stations, military bases and halls of justice.

American football always has been associated with warrior culture. We have fancied it trained young men to be good leaders, made “field generals” out of them, until it has become associated with what cultural historian Michael Oriard has called “a brand of flag-waving more like superpatriotism.” In truth, just like our statues and monuments, somehow we let the priorities become misplaced. The good teammate must show conformity and mindless allegiance rather than principle, keep his mouth shut and subsume himself and all of his personal colors and convictions in, say, team crimson. Instead of immortalizing Hallowell, we forgot him.

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Hallowell “was a power in Harvard athletics,” according to one of the earliest histories of football, who enlisted in the Union Army in 1861 just after graduating. But what you can be sure of is that he was a hell of a rower and a swimmer. During the Battle of Ball’s Bluff, the 22-year-old swam across the Potomac River three times through bullet-pocked water to rescue trapped and wounded comrades. You can get an additional idea of Hallowell’s virtuosity from the fact that his son Jack was a two-time all-American end in football and his grandson Norwood Penrose III was a runner who finished sixth in the 1,500 meters at the 1932 Summer Olympics before serving aboard warships in World War II.

Jerry Brewer: Black and white teammates know: Conflict is inevitable; winners confront it

Pen Hallowell had something more than physical courage, and so did his elder brother, Edward “Ned” Needles Hallowell. “The Fighting Quakers,” as they were nicknamed, were sons of a Philadelphia abolitionist whose home was a stop on the Underground Railroad. As boys they spirited fugitive slaves to safety in the family carriage. As men they volunteered as officers with the legendary all-black 54th and 55th Massachusetts regiments.

As for Ned Hallowell, he was shot three times charging with the left wing of the martyred 54th Massachusetts at Fort Wagner, just behind his doomed friend Robert Gould Shaw. With Shaw’s body lying in a sandy ditch with his troops, Ned Hallowell assumed command of the regiment. Assigned the rear guard during a perilous retreat in a battle called Olustee, he and his men spent 20,000 cartridges checking the Confederates and then countermarched to save a train of intermingled black and white wounded soldiers that had broken down. When they couldn’t fix the motor, they attached ropes to the engine cars and manually hauled that bloody train to safety, with Confederate gunfire guttering at their backs.

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While those men were towing a locomotive by ropes, Pen Hallowell was beating in the doors of Congress trying to get them paid equal to white soldiers. The 54th and 55th were offered just $7 a month, while white soldiers got $13. Largely thanks to the brothers’ efforts, Congress finally approved equal pay for black soldiers in 1864.

Why bring any of this up? Because it’s an example of what black-white alliances can do, for one thing. Because Sunday is Flag Day, for another. And because every well-meaning but unread white athlete, coach, owner, athletic director and sportswriter needs to understand that Pen Hallowell, to whom black lives really did matter, lost his war. And football had no small part in that.

The vague phrase “systemic racism” is not just perpetuated by men with badges. It’s also propagated by our false victory narratives. There have been few more powerful cultural narrators than the NFL and the NCAA, with their close association with military triumphalism. They have been terrible teachers of historical truth, lousy with misplaced definitions of valor. Pen Hallowell was alive to hear Harvard football coach W. Cameron Forbes declare in 1900 that American football was “the expression of strength of the Anglo-Saxon. It is the dominant spirit of the dominant race, and to this it owes its popularity and its hope of permanence.”

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Steve Kerr believes Colin Kaepernick will ‘ultimately be considered a hero’ for protests

Then there was that Princeton academic and assistant football coach named Woodrow Wilson, who rewrote the Civil War in volumes of purported American history so racist that they enraged Hallowell because they so “abounded with apologies for slavery.”

Hallowell tried to fight back in the post-war battle of values. He wrote essays and speeches devoted to the bravery of black soldiers and those conscientious outliers, abolitionists. On Memorial Day in 1896, he gave a remembrance address at Harvard. Sickened by romantic war myths in which the treachery and slave-driving of the Confederacy were painted over as cavalier spirit, Hallowell said, “To ignore the irreconcilable distinction between the cause of the North and that of the South is to degrade the war.”

Yet isn’t that what we have done? We have degraded that war — to the point that we hardly know what real honor is anymore, much less how to coach it on our playing fields. Degraded it until Colin Kaepernick was reviled for a simple show of conscience on racism. Degraded it until racial justice and the flag seemed in such conflict that a decent man such as Drew Brees couldn’t think clearly and make a clean judgment. Degraded it to the point that Pen Hallowell has faded to a relative obscurity, except among war buffs and historians, while the University of Mississippi kept Colonel Reb as a mascot until 2003. Even now frat boys will dress in the costumes of traitors to the flag at cotillions, without the first blush of hot shame.

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Thomas Boswell: It’s not which sports figures are speaking out that’s telling. It’s how many.

It’s the 21st century, yet 85 percent of the authorities in the Football Bowl Subdivision, the coaches, athletic directors, chancellors, presidents and conference commissioners who run it, are white. So are 28 of the NFL’s 32 head coaches. Almost all of them say they are trying to figure out how to “support” black players. As they filter back to their campuses and team facilities, there are a lot of hard conversations about race and patriotism. Whether to emulate the bent knee of Kaepernick in protest. Whether to support Deshaun Watson and DeAndre Hopkins in their quest to efface John C. Calhoun, who called slavery “a positive good,” from Clemson’s campus.

If we want football to be something worth preserving, we should demand that it celebrates the right qualities — and people.

Here’s a helpful suggestion to the coaches: Try reading a little Hallowell on the subject of what it is to really fight for each other. In the slim volumes produced by that genuine patriot and war hero are some things that may surprise them. For instance, Nick Saban and his Alabama players probably don’t know that after the war Hallowell helped finance a private school for black students in Calhoun, Ala., with Booker T. Washington.

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But most important is what Hallowell has to teach about courage and protest. “The courage necessary to face death in battle is not of the highest order,” Hallowell wrote. He saw a “higher and rarer courage” in the “long suffering and patient endurance” of the soldiers so invested in their equal pay protest that they fought for 18 months without accepting a cent until they won fair treatment.

Hallowell and his brother are buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Mass., with headstones so small they seem like chips compared with Confederate monuments. When Hallowell finally died in 1914, his close friend and compatriot Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. called him “the most generously gallant spirit, and I don’t know but the greatest soul I ever knew.” If there was a peerless man who deserves to be on a height, it’s Pen Hallowell. Yet look what we have done to him. Look what we have done to all of us.

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Sally Jenkins

Sally Jenkins is a sports columnist for The Washington Post. She began her second stint at The Washington Post in 2000 after spending the previous decade working as a book author and as a magazine writer.

[show-me-your-rocks]

Feeling creative and trying to think of a story that’s not been told. Here’s my shot at something somewhat original.

Chapter 1

Walter Hightower is a 62-year old man with nondescript features. He is of average height, with a paunch belly but not what he would really consider fat. Slightly overgrown gray eyebrows, a bushy mustache, and tortoise shell glasses adorn his face. His sunken brown eyes and bald head add to his look of an experienced life. He did possess some hair on the sides, which was in need of his bimonthly haircut. Walter suffers from several ailments which are standard for a man his age and build. A bad back, vision problems, senility, and digestion issues plagued him. Yes, Walter is an average Baby Boomer except for two things. He has stage three liver cancer and he is a serial killer.

In fact, Walter Hightower is the most prolific unknown serial killer the United States has ever had. He was good at what he did because he knew exactly how to do it. It wasn’t some innate ability, but a skill he had developed over decades. Consider Walter’s previous daytime profession as a carpenter. Just as he made several mistakes as a young apprentice just starting in the profession, in his hobby he had also made mistakes. And just as not knowing what you’re doing in carpentry can cost you dearly, not knowing how to kill discretely can cost you everything.

The connection between Walter’s day job and secret hobby was actually stronger than you might think. It was in his late teens or early 20s, he can never quite recall, that an image stuck in his mind that drove him to all of this. It was at work on the Petty house where he was a young apprentice still learning the ropes of the profession that he had a small accident. Nothing major. Just a minor movement of the hand saw and he has sliced open his thumb. It was a small injury that he would have barely even stopped working to notice, if it hadn’t been for the blood. Something about it, the sunlight hitting it or the translucent nature against his worn hands, enchanted him. He stared at it for what seemed like hours. It was at that moment that he had seen such beauty in something quite ordinary and also painful that changed the course of his life.

An obsession grew in him, like the very cancer that was consuming his liver now. At first he thought it odd and shook it off. But as he lay awake at night unable to sleep, he pictured the blood seeping out his thumb and would be lulled to a peaceful slumber. Soon this image would grow stale and he needed a new one to replace it. He developed an insomnia that nearly cost him his sanity. He realized he needed a new image. A different image. Maybe an image of someone else.

“That’s crazy” he thought to himself. “Hurting someone else to see their blood so I can sleep?” These were the rantings of a madman and not the ones of our still yet average Walter. But sleep was necessary and if that was the price to pay, Walter would surely find someone to foot the bill. But who?

So Walter tried to start small. He picked up hunting and fishing, which made him fit in more with the small community he was part of. Everyone else thought young Walter was just exploring new hobbies. In a way they were right. Hunting was more difficult because of the waiting for the right time of year and because of the wait for the perfect shot. But it proved more settling for his delicate condition as it provided more blood for him. All while also providing him a cover of outdoor sportsman, which played in nicely with the people of the small town. But the deer blood wasn’t the same. He was able to sustain it for a while, relying on a combination of the new image with the old one. But soon he was right back where he began, sleepless and desperate.

So then, it was decided. But who? Who could Walter kill and still not feel the overwhelming guilt that would further rob him of sweet slumber? Someone completely vile who the town would be glad to be rid of perhaps. But no, someone like that might be too well known and thus noticed missing. He needed to find someone that was already almost invisible. Someone who lived on the edge of the community. Someone who had few if any ties. No family, no real friends. Someone much like Walter himself. Perhaps that was the answer. Walter considered just killing himself instead of all thes innocent people. Up until now he had been doing it for his own personal and selfish reasons with his deer hunting. But he’d also done some good, by keeping deer population down and donating meat to needy families nearby. In his sleep-starved state he rationalized himself as a hero. If he was to continue his work in doing good for his community he needed to pick someone who took away from the value of the town but not so much to be one who was noticed. He thought hard and made a list. He even scored the potential victims on family connections, friend connections, and overall negative impact on local society.

He was down to three. He always liked that number, three. Something about it was pleasing. The first choice was an abusive single mother of two boys, Nicole Wright. Robbing children of their mother is such an abhorrent act but in Walter’s eyes, these kids would be better off. They weren’t living with Nicole. They had been taken by child protective services several times and he believed they were probably tired of bouncing back and forth between living with her and foster families. They were always taken from her at the hospital after receiving treatment for cigarette burns or broken bones. Other than the two boys, Nicole had no family in the area and was not on speaking terms with her parents who lived hours away. She was as bad a friend as she was a mother which led to lots of lone nights drinking at one of the local bars. If she went missing there would only be a few people who noticed and they were local bar flies who wouldn’t even really notice or care that she had left. Nicole was a strong potential victim.

Potential victim two was Greg Myers. Greg Myers was a loner. He wasn’t necessarily a really bad person who did horrible things and deserved to die. Sure he did some bad things every now and then. As a driver he was certainly reckless and had caused some accidents that hurt people because he thought he was too good to follow the rules of the road. He also donated things to charities. It wasn’t that he was looking to donate. It was just that he had stuff he wanted to get rid of and wanted to give it to someone who needed it. It all added up to being a pretty common person. The key to Greg being on Walter’s list was that he had no friends or family anywhere for miles. Greg had moved away from his home because he hated the big city life and wanted a small town experience. The thing is that when Greg moved here he didn’t realize that everyone knew everyone else’s business and wanted to talk all the time. Greg learned quickly not to overshare and essentially turned himself into a hermit. He could move back home but that would be admitting to himself that he was wrong and Greg was too proud to do that. His job working remote IT from home meant he didn’t have any work friends and with family far away, Greg had very few ties to the community as someon who actively sought to remove himself from it. Greg Myers was another strong potential victim.

The last one on Walter’s list was James Rockwell. James didn’t quite fit in with the other two. He was a relatively successful local business owner and had a beautiful wife. He had connections to the community and would surely be noticed if he was gone. So how did he end on Walter’s list? Because Walter Hightower hated James Rockwell with a fiery passion. After all it was partly James’ fault that Walter turned out the way he did.

Walter had friends growing up in elementary school but when their class hit middle school, so did puberty. At least for most. James was one of those early bloomers who got tall and whose voice dropped to a nice baritone. Seemingly overnight he became the most popular boy in the grade among the boys and girls. Walter took a bit longer to develop and that was something James noticed. With his newfound popularity James had a reputation to uphold and Walter was right there for the picking. It became a constant in Walter’s life. He didn’t do anything to draw this attention other than not have the right amount of testosterone.

Walter’s school life became a constant state of fear from some sort of verbal or physical attack from James or one of his new friends. Because of the constant negative attention the only friends that Walter had left him alone to fight his bullies for fear of guilt by association. But how could this happen? How could a child be left alone to fight this small army and no one at school or home to help? Well Walter grew up in the era of just fight your bully back and be a man. Walter never really saw the need for violence and so this advice was lost on him. School principals didn’t believe that James, who was a good athlete and also a strong student, would even waste time on Walter, who had become a middling student with no friends. It wasn’t that Walter was of below average intelligence. It was that he had lost focus in classes due to James and his friends. But who are principals going to choose - the kid with a bright future or the one they see as a nobody?

At home it was just as bad. Walter was made to feel weak by his father who didn’t see why he couldn’t just fight James and wasn’t one to hide his disappointment. They even engaged in sparring matches out back after dinner. It might have started out as a chance for Walter to learn a new skill but it turned into opportunities for Walter’s father to physically abuse him under the guise of friendly father-son time. His mother would clean him up afterwards to help Walter feel better but also to cover the marks so the school wouldn’t see. Walter’s mother was one who heeded her husband in spite of her objections. After all she was worried if Walter wasn’t taking the punches she might be the one doing it. Average grades, no friends, no romantic interests, and a bad home life. All because James Rockwell got a visit from the puberty fairy just a bit early. Just recounting the reasons for James being on the list caused Walter to feel the only real emotion he had left. Anger. A deep, searing rage filled him and he could feel the blood rushing to his face. It would be James first.

Chapter 2

Walter felt almost giddy after arriving at his decision. He knew there was risk in killing James but the mere thought of seeing his blood was enough to put him to sleep that night.

Walter began to plan. He took a couple days off work to follow James around and learn his daily routine. Luckily Walter was an average looking guy with his light brown hair and brown eyes, average height and build. He was every man and that would be his camouflage, his key. James had a very similar pattern to each day. He would leave for work at approximately 7:15, taking some less traveled roads to avoid the little traffic there was, arrive at work at 7:30 and work til 11:30 when he would take lunch to a nearby park. He would find a secluded corner of the park for lunch, eat in roughly 20 minutes and head back to work to arrive at 11:55. He would work until 5:30 and head home, arriving at around 5:45 with dinner waiting for him on the table. Walter saw three opportunities - on the way to work, lunch, and on the way home. But which of these would cause the least amount of stir?

If he took him on his way to work, his employees and customers would all notice because he wasn’t there to open up shop. If he took him at lunch then his absence would still be noticed by those same employees and customers. On the way home his wife would notice he wasn’t home and she would surely be one to call the police. Walter had to think about which one would work the best. Fewest witnesses, fewest people to notice he was gone.

Walter had hatched his plan and now it was time to execute. He went to work to not seem suspicious so that ruled out taking James on his way to work and at lunch. Walter left work at 3 while James was still working so he went to pay James’ car a visit. He took a small nail from work and poked a hole in one of the tires. Not a huge gash, but large enough to make a difference on the way home.

James was excited to leave work that day and head home because his wife Eleanor was making meatloaf. He was driving home with the windows down and the radio blaring when he heard a thumping noise. He turned off the radio and listened carefully. He pulled off to the side of the road to check on his car. He opened the hood and saw nothing wrong and then he checked the tires. He got a flat on the back tire of the passenger’s side. With the road he was on there wasn’t much of a shoulder so he had to be careful in jacking his car up to change the tire. As he was lessening the lug nuts he kept wondering how this could have happened, how he could have hit something that would puncture the tire, and why did it have to happen on meatloaf night. As he was lost in thought a stranger pulled over in a black truck to see what had happened.

Walter had used a hat and the fact that James hadn’t seen him since high school as a disguise to move in closely. With a tire iron in his hand he asked if he needed any help.

“No thanks, I’ve got it,” James said in a gruff manner. He was upset that he was going to have to pay for a new tire and that he was missing meatloaf.

“What happened?” Walter asked as he approached, ignoring James’ response and sounding as if he hadn’t been the one to cause all this.

“I just ran over something and got a flat,” James grunted as he secured the spare tire.

“What a shame,” Walter noted. He tried to fake sympathy in his voice for this man who had caused him so much pain and anguish. Maybe Walter should have gone into acting with the level of concern he thought he was able to put into his facade.

This was it. This was the moment to strike. James had put the last lug nut on the spare tire and was taking the car off the jack with his lug wrench. His only real weapon was in use. Walter reared back with his own tire iron and struck James on the head. If it was like the movies, James would be knocked cold. But it wasn’t like the movies. James fell but he just grabbed his head and looked up at Walter in shock and anger, reaching for his own lug wrench. Walter struck again on his face this time. A more successful blow. James laid there, not unconscious but not really moving. Walter struck again for good measure and this time he was sure he was out. Just to make absolutely sure and for a little enjoyment he hit him one last time.

The blood coming out of James’ face. It was beautiful. Walter had to touch it. It was a beautiful crimson and in the afternoon sun it seemed to sparkle. Walter played with it for a minute before he remembered he needed to dispose of the body and the car.

Walter wasn’t sure he would get this far so his plan from here on out was rough. He knew he would take James’ car and his body so there wouldn’t be any trace of him left to discover. He left his own truck which would be much less suspicious. He even moved his truck to cover the blood stains on the side of the road. By the time anyone would discover them they would be dried or washed away by rain. And blood on the side of a country road wouldn’t be suspicious. It would look an animal was hit by a car.

So Walter drove the car with James laying bloodied and unconscious in the back seat. He didn’t drive him far for fear of him waking up and attacking him. Walter didn’t know that he already killed James on the side of the road. He wasn’t a doctor and didn’t know how to check if he was still alive.

The next part of Walter’s plan was two-fold. He had driven him to a rural highway which no one used except to leave town. He pulled over and put James into the driver’s seat. He aimed the car so it would drive toward a big tree off the side of the road. He took out a small bottle of rum and poured it on James to give him the smell. Walter poured a little down his throat for good measure. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket as well as his lighter. He took a brick he had stolen from work and put it on the gas pedal. Then Walter put the car and drive and watched it go. Success! It hit the tree dead on and made a big crash.

Now for the final part of the scene before Walter ran back to his own truck. Walter put a lit cigarette onto James’ lap as if he had been smoking and it had fallen out during the crash. It would catch him on fire because of the run soaked clothes. Walter hoped his plan would work and that it would look like James was driving home drunk and ran off the road and into a tree dropping his rum and cigarette and catching him on fire. Then Walter ran from the scene and walked casually back to his truck. No one had seen him he hoped.

But how would he explain why he was driving up that country road instead of on his way home. This part he wasn’t as excited about because he had to hurt innocent people. It would come in the form of two notes. The first note was to James’ wife. It read,

“Sorry Eleanor, but I’ve taken a mistress and I want to marry her. So I’m leaving you and heading for a new life in a new state. Don’t bother trying to find us. I’m leaving you the business though. Jimmy can pretty much run the place. See you next lifetime.

-James”

It was a bit rough but Walter had done his best to be kind but also concise. Walter put it in the mailbox hoping she would find it easily. The other note would be taped to the front door of the business James owned.

“I, James Rockwell, leave this business to my wife, Eleanor Rockwell for her to own and operate. I am leaving the state to pursue new opportunities. This business is now under new management. “

Just in case no one believed her Walter wanted to make sure it looked legitimate.

There it was. Walter’s plan had been carried out. He was going to be in the clear because he had no connection to James or his business. James looked like he died in a fiery car crash and he had given reason for James to be on the road and had spurned the only person who would call the police looking for him.

It would have all worked out so well too if only.

[arielsojourner]

Vader Strikes Back - Part the Fourth

Not beta read/really rough/not really proof read/plot holes and OUT of order.  Also spoilers for the original first story in AO3 Back From the Future: Episode VI The Clone Wars.  Check the tag #vader strikes back on my page for the other parts to this mess/fic outline. Again I value feedback and ideas if you have any. 

  *

Fives wanted to move. His back itched. The view of the medical quarters ceiling  grew boring after about 20 minutes when he was finally allowed to lie face up after days on his belly. Quick was weaning him off the good drugs but he couldn’t just sleep the day away. At this angle he couldn’t do anything. He wanted to get out of bed and do something.

But he was lucky that his spine was still intact, he was lucky to be alive.

(A year ago, perhaps two, an injury like this would have meant decommissioning. Now resources were used to keep him alive, heal him. He was very lucky. He knew that.)

Others hadn’t been so lucky.

Fives closed his eyes and clenched his fists. The casualties reports of clones fighting clones was sickening, there were Jedi dead in the field at the hands of their own troopers. And to top it all off, his teacher was dead. So many dead and he was stuck in this prone position for at least another week before he’d be allowed to start physical therapy. And even when he was back on his feet, who would teach him and his brothers now?

Yes, the Sith Master had been defeated. Yes, the damn chip was out of his head. Yes, he had the Force and medical treatment and the war was over and he should be grateful. He should be happy that he was alive but all he was was frustrated and pissed off and worried.

If only he could get up and do something productive!  If only he could be of some use!

“What do you think you’re doing?” Quick barked.

Fives turned his head to see which patient had earned his ire this time. (He didn’t dare raise his head under threat of being strapped down for the duration of his convalescence.) He needn’t have actually looked. He could guess who it was.

“I’m better, I don’t need to be here!” Hardcase argued even as he hopped back over to his bed, thwarted in his most recent escape attempt.

Quick shoved him down and checked the bacta patch over his leg. “You nearly bled to death, you moron. We’ve had to ration the bacta with all the injuries. It isn’t healed yet. You put pressure on it now the wound could reopen and you could die!”

“Aw, c’mon. It wasn’t as bad as all that,” he protested trying to bat the medic’s hands away.

“This is the third time today. And you didn’t even bother to steal a hoverchair this time! Do I need to strap you down? Because I will!”

“Look, Quick, I’ve got stuff to do I can’t do in here,” Hardcase wheedled. “It’s been weeks.”

“And just what can’t wait until you’re not at risk of losing your leg or your life, trooper?” The medic demanded, hands on his hips.

“Have you been watching the holonet? Have you heard what they’re saying about Luke and Vader? We need to be doing something to help!”

“What?! What’ve they been saying?” Fives interrupted, raising his voice to be heard. “Hardcase?” he asked worriedly.

“No holonet in here; my patients must all rest,” Quick insisted firmly.

“They’re saying that Vader’s trying to take over the galaxy or something, that Palpatine was his master. They’re saying Luke was helping,” Hardcase said hotly. “It’s total kriffing banthashit and someone needs to set the record straight. They were heroes! We were all heroes!”

“Who’s saying it?” Fives asked urgently, forgetting himself for a moment and trying to sit up only for all the monitors around him to start beeping warningly. “Why would they–?” he began, in turns furious and horrified.

“Lay down, trooper!” Quick yelled rushing over to his bed.

“There’s some new report out,” Mixer said from the other side of the ward. “Uni told me about it when he stopped by.  They say the Order’s going to hunt down Vader for going after Palpatine and his allies. They say that Luke wasn’t even a Jedi Knight.”

“Banthashit,” Hardcase snarls. “What’d I tell you, total kriffing banthashit! We need to do something. Fives, Fives we need to–!”

“And what exactly are you going to do about it, may I ask?” Quick asked. “Don’t you think Captain Rex already knows?”

“Luke was our teacher. He was our Commander,” Fives said. “He and Vader came and killed Krell. They got the chips out of our heads and healed us. They gave us all our freedom and ended the war. Hardcase is right. We’re troopers; even laid up there’s got to be something we can do to help.”

Mixer and the others who were awake voiced their loud agreement to Five’s words, some sitting up, others trying to stand. Quick turned around frantically, not sure where to go first to stop the full scale uprising of his patients.

“We could help with reports, or gather intel, or hells even go on the holonet and let everyone know the truth,” Fives continued, rallying the others, lifting his head slightly. “Where’s Echo, is he still on duty? Where’s Hack Squad? We need a holoscreen in here. We need to know what’s going on. We need to comm the 104th and the 212th. Where’s Vader? What–”

“All right! All right! I’ll get a holoscreen in here if and only if you all get back into your beds this second troopers, do you understand me?” Quick yelled, reaching the end of his rope. “Lie back down!”

Grumbling the men obeyed.

“Get a big one, we all need to be able to see and hear,” Hardcase insisted as he relaxed back down.  

“Don’t push your luck,” Quick retorted rushing over to check the clone’s blood pressure and tsking in dismay at what he saw.  “If you go to sleep now, I’ll see what I can do,” he added a bit softer.

“And let Chatterbox and Flare and the others to come by. We need to talk about what we’re going to do,” Fives called out.

“Sleep!”

*

Obi-Wan thought he had set the bottle down on the edge of the table, but it turns out he’d missed by quite a margin. He stared at the shattered glass and alcohol on the floor. It was such a waste of good liquor, he mourned. Luckily, the house had a fully stocked bar.

Grabbing his glass, Obi-Wan went to get another bottle, knocking over a chair and a decorative plant along the way.

“What is going on? Obi-Wan, are you hurt?” Padme entered the room in a rush. “I heard a noise and–“ She stopped in her tracks.

The Jedi Master turned slowly, bottle and glass now in hand. “Senator,” he said in greeting and then turned his attention to getting more drink into his glass.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like your getting drunk,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, Senator. I am getting black out drunk. I am getting so drunk I stop thinking for a few hours. So I stop seeing it, him, every time I blink.”

Her face grew wary. “You watched the vid.”

“I watched the vid,” he confirmed toasting her and then knocking back the entire glass. “What an excellent suggestion you had. I didn’t realize what a total and abject failure I was until I watched the vid. Thank you for that.” He wiped his mouth with his hand, nearly dropping the bottle. “I mean, there’s my Padawan all grown up in a life support suit slaying the Sith Master even after falling to the Dark side. And there’s baby Luke, all grown up and now quite dead after enduring the agony of Force lightning at the hands of the same Sith Master. The Sith Master incidentally who’s been ruling the Republic and controlling the Separatist, who was right under our nose, who nearly exterminated the entire Order using our own troops.”

“Obi-Wan …”

“I’m not sure how much worse I can screw up, Sennan– Padme. As a Jedi, as a General, as a teacher, as a friend. I let that monster near my Padawan, let him do gods know what to him since he was a boy, only a boy. I am quite sure,” he continued staggering and nearly tripping on the fallen chair as he came closer to her. “No one has failed as greatly as I have in the history of the Order.” He waved his hand to cut her off when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “No, no really. Jedi have lost students before, yes. My own Master lost a student. Xanatos. Always trying to kill me. But to kriff up so badly that your Fallen Sith Lord student comes back in time to fix things, now that’s a new low, deserving of a place of honor in the Archives.”

Padme grabbed hold of the bottle and the glass and yanked them out of Obi-Wan’s hands. “Enough of this. I know you’re hurt and shocked, but–“

“I was going to talk to Anakin. I was going to talk to him but he’s in the nursery, sleeping on the floor. He did that sometimes in the beginning. He wasn’t used to the sleep couch. He was cold, so he’d make a nest in a corner of his room. I used to tell him off for hoarding blankets. I was such a bad Master.”  He stepped backward, reaching for the couch and finding it with one hand, flopped down on the cushions. “ I don’t want to lie to him anymore. I don’t want to tell him that the war is good, that the Order knows what its doing, that he’s doing good, and he needs to keep fighting and fighting and fighting. He’s very good a fighting and killing,” he said mournfully.

“Yes,” Padme agreed softly setting down the bottle and the glass. “Anakin’s very good at killing. All of the Jedi are.”

“You sound like Satine,” he says crossly. “Warriors can’t be peacekeepers. Soliders can only do one thing. If your only tool is a weapon, everyone looks like a target,” he parrots in a Mandalore accent.

“I can’t say I disagree. That was probably the plan all along. Sheev Palpatine was famous for such tactics when he was a Senator.”

“And he was in front of us the whole time. We saved his life a dozen times. He talked of democracy and we happily helped build his Sith Empire for him,” Obi-Wan spat. “He played the kindly old man while he dripped poison into my Padawan’s ear. I let him– I let him–“ He wiped one shaking hand over his face and breathed, trying to release his anger. “And he won. He won. Vader is proof of that. Force knows what they did … After. Killed everyone, I imagine.” He touched his throat, remembering the durasteel grip, the Forcestorm of hate and betrayal.

“Now that you know, what will you do?” Padme asked.

“Do?”

“Do you plan to tell the Jedi Order? Do you plan to lock Anakin up or kill him preemptively?”

“What? No! No, of course not! Anakin is not Vader!” he yelled defensively. “How can you say that?”

“Anakin was terrified to tell you of our marriage, of the babies. He believed you to be more loyal to the Order and the Council than him.” Obi-Wan sputtered at that but some part of him whispered that Anakin had every right to think that about him. “The war and constant fighting has taken a toll. He is suffering and in pain. Your Order teaches that those types of feelings aren’t allowed, that they lead to the Dark side, to somehow becoming evil like the flick of a switch. Knowing that in some other time and place he became Vader … I have a right to know what you plan to do to my husband.”

“Nothing! I plan to do nothing!” Obi-Wan tried to stand. “He’s my brother. I love him! I would never– I could never kill him! Never!”

Dark eyes watch him for a long moment.

“I promised him. I promised Anakin I would stay with him and help make things right. I meant it. Forget about the the Council and the war. I said I wanted to help and I will, Padme. Not because of the Code or the Order or-or some promise to my dying Master, but because I care for him and I don’t want to see him hurting, not anymore, not if I can help it. I’m going to help. I swear it.”

“And Vader?” Padme asked softly. “Will you help him too?”

“Vader?” Obi-Wan drew back in shock.

“He’s lost everyone and everything. His son … my son is dead. He will need our help.”

“I … he’s a Sith,” Obi-Wan tried to explain.

“And what, Sith can’t be redeemed? Sith can’t make new and better choices? Sith can’t save the galaxy and defeat evil? I don’t believe that,” she said sharply turning and looking away from him. “I don’t care what his name is now, he was once Anakin Skywalker. I can tell by what he’s done. There is good in him.”

“Padme, once a Jedi starts down the Dark path, their destiny is fixed and dominated by death and suffering.”

“He saved us all. He and Luke. And now, he’s alone.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. It went against everything he had been taught and believed his whole life. But then again, what he believed and was taught said that time travel was impossible and that Sith were incapable of good. Vader had already disproven both points.

And he was alone. Anakin never made good choices when he was left all alone.

It made him dizzy just thinking about it. But then again, it may be the alcohol.

“I will do what I can,” he said finally.