#i just need to get this posted awright

[pfhwrittes]

retail hell au again because why not. so imagine with me that 141 fellas find you after a miserable customer has made you cry.

warnings: reader!character is experiencing the aftermath of a panic attack/distressing emotions when she’s approached by the boys, nothing explicitly stated but she’s feeling a bit vulnerable.

fem!reader and the use of gendered pet names (hen, love) and use of the word cunt as an insult to describe a customer.

also apologies, i’m english and my grasp on scottish slang/scots has mostly been informed by the wonderful show Still Game which is distinctly glaswegian in flavour and various scottish twitter posts.

so you’re hiding out in the smoking area (lmao smoking area, okay let’s be honest it’s where a bucket filled with sand has been dumped near an ex-display bench about idk 20 feet from the customer entrance) because you just need 5 fucking minutes to compose yourself…

gaz is actually coming back from his lunch break and spots you hunched up on the bench in a way that looks truly uncomfortable. he carefully sits next to you and offers a soft smile when you look over at him. “bad customer?” he’s gentle when he asks and doesn’t make a fuss when you make a truly gross sniffling noise and wipe at your eyes. “want a hug?” you shake your head no and hunch in tighter on yourself. “want a milkshake?” you shrug and he passes over a strawberry milkshake. surprisingly he doesn’t say anything and let’s you drink in peace. you like gaz, he’s always friendly and warm when you interact briefly on the shop floor. he always seems to know what to say or do to get the best out of you and everyone else around him. eventually you check your phone and see it’s been 10 minutes since you left the customer service desk with tears in your eyes and lump burning your throat. embarrassment and residual anxiety washes through you when you recall how you’d all but fled to the safety of the smoker’s bench despite not smoking yourself. gaz catches your shudder when you check the time and knocks his shoulder into yours gently. “don’t worry, i’ll let price know you need a few more minutes, alright?” gaz gets up and heads inside the building, you know he’ll speak to price so you unfurl a little bit and chew on the straw of your milkshake.

soap and simon find you next. soap’s chattering away about the most recent delivery as they both approach your bench. simon stops dead a respectable three feet away but soap throws himself onto the bench bumping his knee into yours “what’s the matter wi’ you then, hen? you’ve a face like a smacked arse”. you shift away from soap, usually you don’t mind his directness but it’s just rubbing you the wrong way right now. you’re still feeling raw and a bit sick from finishing gaz’s milkshake and lingering anxiety. “fucks sake johnny, leave ‘er alone.” simon grumbles and fishes a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. “how? am just askin’ what’s the matter!” soap’s hands swat the air near your face and you shuffle further along the bench to avoid being hit in the nose in his agitation. “johnny.” simon snaps and soap huffs and folds his arms across his chest. it’s quiet amongst the three of you while simon taps out a cigarette and pats down his pockets looking for a lighter. soap shoots a wink at you and starts playing with a lighter that apparently has just appeared from thin air. “give me my lighter back johnny.” “gies a cigarette an’ i’ll trade it.” “no.” “c’mon simon! wan little cigarette.” “fuck off.” “awright then you miserable bastard.” you shake your head at their bickering and hold out your hand. soap pouts but drops it into your open palm. you lob the lighter in a poor underhand throw to simon who plucks it out of the air easily and nods in appreciation. “aw c’mon hen, that’s no’ playin’ fair!” soap whines and knocks his knee into yours “i thought i was your favourite.” “favourite pain in the arse.” is simon’s dry response around the lit cigarette and you crack a wobbly smile. “there she is! didn’t i tell you si?” soap’s grin is blinding “i knew we could cheer her up!” your wobbly smile starts to resemble more of its usual cheer when you catch simon’s eye roll directed at soap. you open your mouth maybe to defend soap or maybe to provoke him, you haven’t quite decided, when a pointed throat clearing catches your trio’s attention. your smile drops off your face and the anxiety that had started to quiet down in the face of johnny’s cheerfulness rises again in your belly because price is aiming a stern look towards the three of you from only six feet away.

price gently sits next to you on the bench when you’re certain simon and johnny are back inside. johnny squawking about the injustice of having his break cut short and simon calling him an idiot in response as they both disappear through the doors. you open your mouth to apologise for skiving off and offer any reason or explanation that will help your case but your teeth click shut when price holds out a palm to forestall your inevitable word vomit. “i don’t want to hear it, love.” price’s tone isn’t unkind, he’s just shooting straight with you, it’s something you quite admire about him really. “that customer was a cunt quite frankly and i’m proud of you for handling her the way you did.” the praise creates a small glow in your chest and burns away the last of your dread. “but, a word of advice, as the duty manager for today?” price offers a small encouraging smile so you nod. “you’re not paid enough to put up with that shit, so don’t.” you grimace and blow out a breath, you want to argue, maybe even defend yourself and explain that it’s fine really that’s just how retail is. price chuckles “no love, listen. you aren’t paid enough, but i am. so next time it happens, send ‘em my way alright?” price offers another smile when you nod in agreement before pushing himself off the bench. “now, c’mon. i’ve got stock that needs counting down the plumbing aisle and you can give me a hand. no more talking to muppets on the customer service desk today.” you follow price back into the store feeling much better than you did twenty five minutes ago.

the rest of your shift passes by easily enough and you make a mental note to buy gaz a milkshake as a thank you when he shoots you a friendly smile as you pass him on your way out the store on your lunch.

[marichat914]

Yay! September 1! It's Ladynoir and Adrinette's anniversary!

And thus I will post this story made for ML Bigbang 2023 last year to celebrate.

(I received the privilege of having Dori_Sketches to make the beautiful art you see and Des to beta-read my story.)

Do not re-post unless you've received permission from the artist.

Just freakin' look at them! 😍 Gosh I'm melting!!! 😆😅

Miraculous Lucid Dreamers

Chapter 1.1 – The Protector of Dreams and the Hater of Reality

“Cataclysm!”

Chat Noir raised his hand as he said the access word to the power of destruction. His hand emitted dark liquid sparks and touched the brown toy bear that the giant brown bear was holding, turning it charcoal-like and pulverizing it in the process, releasing the child from the curse of the Crookmitten. The giant brown bear then began to shrink. The giant bear’s silhouette disintegrated into the air, revealing a sniffing small boy.

Chat Noir sighed in relief, thankful that the boy was back to normal.

“Are you okay?” Chat Noir asked as he bent one knee to level the boy’s height, placing his head on his shoulder.

The little boy stopped rubbing his tears and looked at him. The little boy shook his head.

“I’m scared…”

Chat smiled softly. “Knightmare?”

“Hm-mh..” The boy nodded then sniffed. “There was a giant black monster that was eating other children’s favorite toys and he was going to eat my teddy bear too. I ran really fast to get away but my teddy tried to protect me and told me to run. But he was captured by the giant monster…and…and…waaahhh!!! I saw the monster eat my teddy alive!” The boy cried again, harder this time.

“Shh. Shh…Don’t worry. Everything’s fine now. You won’t have Knightmares for the rest of the night because Ihe Crookmitten, the unidentified Lucid Dreamer that’s been trying to ruin the peace of Land Des Rêves Lucides. A place where people like him, Lucid Dreamers, visit to escape reality. Crookmitten po already defeated the monster from your dream.”

The boy stopped crying, his eyes were evidently red and puffy. “Really?”

He ruffled the boy’s chocolate colored hair. “Yep.” He reassured him.

The monster he was referring to was the creature he had become. Just an hour ago, a giant teddy bear attacked the Playpen village and started eating all the children’s favorite toys. Chat Noir immediately knew that it was the work of turs Knightmare dust to the thing that the dreamer was holding whenever they feel a negative emotion and turns them into something else based on the thing they were sad or scared or angry about.

It’s his job as the holder of the Miraculous of Destruction to destroy the thing holding the Knightmare dust and release that person from their nightmares.

The boy suddenly looked dreaded and his eyes frantically roamed everywhere as if he was searching for something. “My teddy! He’s gone!”

Chat Noir bit his lip out of guilt. He doesn’t know if the boy would understand that he destroyed his teddy bear to free him from the curse.

“I’m sorry…but I had to use your teddy to fight the monster.” Chat told him the half-truth, biting his lower lip in guilt. “But this is the realm of dreams. You could make the exact same teddy you had before.”

The little boy desperately shook his head. “But Teddy is really special to me. There’s no one else like him.”

Chat understood what the little kid meant. It’s hard to lose something that you really cared about, things that hold special memories.

“How about this? We’ll close our eyes together, and then imagine you have your teddy in front of you. Now, you need to imagine really hard so he can find his way back to you.”

There’s a hint of fear and doubt in the boy’s eyes when he looks at him.

“Trust me…Uhm…Can I ask your name?”

“Kevin.”

“Awright, Kevin. Close your eyes and imagine really hard.”

Chat watched as the lids covered the blue hues.

A few seconds passed, a small white ball of light appeared in front of the child. Chat smiled. The white ball gently formed into the shape of a teddy.

Chat Noir whispered softly to the concentrating Kevin. “Imagine harder. Picture what your teddy really looked like.”

Kevin’s brows frowned as he followed Chat’s instructions.

Suddenly, an exact replica of the teddy popped off in front of them as the light covering it disappeared.

Chat took the teddy gently with his hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

A beaming smile welcomed the Lucid Teddy bear and was immediately squished into a hug.

“Thank you! Thank you a lot!”

Chat Noir stood up and ruffled Kevin’s hair again.

“You’re welcome. Go ahead and play with the other children. I’m sure they were all waiting for you.”

Kevin nodded and ran towards the direction of the newly rebuilt Playpen village. He joined the other Lucid dreamer kids and played with them. Some began flying while others were swinging on the ice-cream sandwich sing set. One kid bit a huge chunk from the wafer chain connecting the swing, making the kid riding it fall on his bum. They all laughed and started eating the rest of the chain wafer.

An applause played behind him.

“Another job well done, I might say, Miraculous of Destruction holder.”

“Felix…You’re wearing glasses. Did you do some paperwork in the Dream Realm again?”

The pale blonde sighed. “You can’t blame me. This is the only place where I can do my work without someone shouting next to me on how to do it ‘properly’.” He air-quoted the last sarcastic word. He shrugged his shoulders as he inserted his hands to his dark-grey dress pants. “Not all dreamers come to this place to change who they are okay?”

“Right, because you remain the same workaholic future duke of your kingdom. And you ‘love’ your work too much to just leave it alone in the reality.”

“Exactly.” He said. “Except this time, I can’t focus on my work with that giant volcano blocking the view of the Eiffel tower from my office.

Using his thumb, he pointed backwards to the unsettling view of the giant volcano which suddenly came to Land Des Rêves Lucides out of nowhere a few months ago. No one knows who conjured it. But they all want it to disappear so they could see the Eiffel tower again. Only the most imaginative dreamers could procure something that big in a dream. Just like how Marinette made the Eiffel tower years ago.

Speaking of Marinette…

“Have you seen her?” Chat Noir asked.

“Who?”

“Marinette. I was looking for her all over Land Des Rêves Lucides but I couldn’t find her.”

“Nope. Didn’t see her. I was busy working despite the lack of relaxation. Maybe she’s awake.”

That made Chat Noir worried. “But she should be sleeping by now.” He sighed. This is not a first, however. There were a lot of times where Marinette couldn’t visit the Dream Realm because of her job. Of which…he doesn’t know.

“She’s probably overworking herself again.” He sighed disappointingly and pointed his index finger in front of him. He imagined a passion fruit macaron in front of him and it popped in the dream in a second. A lot faster than that teddy bear from the boy earlier. When you’re a veteran Lucid dreamer, it’ll be easier to materialize anything to the dream realm. He ate the macaroon in one go. Delicious, he thought. Though the macarons that Marinette makes for him are a lot tastier.

“Huh… Too bad you can’t conjure your lover into this place.”

Chat smiled. “Yeah…too bad.”

In the Land of Lucid Dreams, ‘Anyone can create anything except anyone.’

“I miss her already.” Chat Noir said with a dreamy sigh, propping both hands on his staff and his chin against his fingers.

Felix made a fake vomiting noise. “Get out of here you whipped pussycat. Oh hang on a second…’you are’ getting out of here.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’re disappearing, see?” Felix pointed him out.

He glanced at himself and saw that he was gradually turning transparent. It’s one of the indications that your presence in the dream realm is disappearing and returning to reality. It means that he’s waking up.

“That’s impossible.” He said, astonished by the discovery. ‘No one has ever dared to wake me up in the middle of my sleep.’ His room is heavily guarded from the outside.

“How is it impossible? You’re just waking up. Maybe someone’s calling for you.”

“NO! I can’t go back yet! I still need to see Marinette!” He’s been longing to see her for hours since he saw her yesternight.

Felix crossed his arms and raised an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ eyebrow at him.

“You’re overreacting. You’ll see her again tomorrow.”

“But what if I don’t?! Who knows when I’ll be able to see her again?! No! I don’t want to leave ye---.” He concentrated and forced himself to stay. But his efforts were futile as he’s getting more transparent, almost turning invisible. Then he was no longer in a dream

[aaliyg]

Stick to the Script

TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND. SHE'S BACKKKK

Word count: 5.6K  

Prompt: Meeting For the First Time

Warnings: sojournxmtf!junker queen, bottom!sojourn, top!junker queen, canon divergence, cursing, pet names, dirty talk, squirting, MTF, size difference, title use/kink (brief), body worship (brief), fingering, oral sex (both receiving and giving), missionary, pretty vanilla tbh, begging, crying during sex

Dialogue Color Code: Sojourn, Junker Queen

The humid air settled into the cockpit like a weighted blanket, making Vivian wonder why the hell she agreed to go on this mission in the first place. It was nothing too serious, just some allyship talks with the people of Junkertown, aka the Queen herself. Vivian's been here before, sure, but something about this mission made her stomach pool with unease. It was like some part of her was anticipating something to happen, even though her team hadn't even landed yet. She found solace in the fact that she herself wouldn't be talking, since Jack said he had that covered. All Vivian had to do was stand still and look both welcoming and intimidating. Easy enough. 

She stood up and stretched a bit, letting herself take in the view of the outskirts of the town. For an area that was one of the epicenters of the omnic crisis, the place didn't look too shabby. It was almost…admirable how these people were able to integrate mechanics with everyday life, showing how resilient they could be when needed. Her thoughts were cut short as the airship began to land just outside the gates of the town. There was one thing she liked about this place: the people here didn't look up to her crew like they were gods, just normal people with a drive to make the world better. 

A couple minutes later, she found herself posted inside the throne room of the Junker Queen herself. Vivian let her eyes wander around the room, taking in the details of the omnic parts used as decoration on the walls and furniture. She was definitely glad that Echo wasn't brought along for this mission. With her railgun propped in front of her, she absentmindedly listened to what Jack was saying, doing her best to keep track in case she was asked to add anything on his behalf. Her ears perked up when the Queen snorted in response to what Jack offered.

"An what makes you think we'd need your ‘allyship’ in the first place, huh? Far as I know you lot are just here to look good."

Vivian…couldn't deny that one. Junkertown was doing pretty well for itself, as rundown as it seemed. There wasn't really anything that Overwatch could bring to the table that they would be interested in. She struggled not to chuckle as Jack scrambled to come up with a retort, knowing full well that he was simply out of his comfort zone in this situation. She sighed softly and leaned against the wall of the throne room, clearing her throat to get their attention. So much for staying quiet…

"What makes you think that your people could live off of what they have here in the long run?"

"Oh the bodyguard talks. Awright then."

Sojourn almost raised her gun out of reflex when the woman stood up, causing the Queen to squint her fiery red eyes at her and sneer.

"What, ya think ya lil gun is gunna stop me?" 

She chuckled as she practically loomed over Vivian, easily dwarfing her without a problem. Her eyes sized Vivian up and down, but she backed off before anything could happen. She shifted her eyes towards Jack in a mocking manner.

"You should tell your bodyguard to keep her mouth shut more often."

Vivian could practically feel Jack's eye twitching from how badly the meeting was going, wasting no time in apologizing for her behavior. She almost felt bad for him, but then again he didn't have a solid argument against the Queen's rebuttal. It seemed like she was noticing his plight as well too, as she groaned loudly in mock annoyance.

"Tell ya what. You and your little bodyguard can stay here for the night, and you can come back here tomorrow and try to win me over again. Sound good?"

To say that Sojourn was surprised would be an understatement. The Junker Queen wasn't exactly known for giving people a second shot at anything, really. Jack looked…relieved at her proposal and immediately agreed to it.

"On one condition though."

Sojourn's brow perked up at the phrase, raising her eye level just in time to watch her point in her direction.

"She stays with me."

She furrowed her brow in confusion at the demand, sparing a glance at Jack before answering.

"And if I say no?"

The Queen looked slightly deterred as raised her brow in...shock? annoyance? At her question and chuckled a bit, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, then you can consider this little deal of ours off the table."

"...Just for one night correct?"

"Depends."

"...On?"

"Why would I tell ya?"

Sojourn held back her groan as she weighed the options in her mind. Either they went back with no ally at all, or they waited for Jack to pull something out of his ass by the next day.

"Fine. I'll stay with you then."

That damned smirk became even more prominent from her response as she leaned against her throne even more.

"Wonderful. Don't worry about your boss. I already have a spot for him."

She snapped her fingers, and two of her…henchmen? Came and guided Jack out of the throne room. He didn't even bother fighting back or speaking against what was happening. Honestly, he looked too dumbfounded to do anything.

"And then there were two."

The same feeling that Sojourn felt in the airship came back in full force as she made eye contact with the Queen.

"I want to apologize."

The Junker's face became visibly confused as she blinked slowly.

"For what?"

"...I mean I did just question your authority in your own throne room and all."

"Ah. I suppose you did." 

She leaned forward in her chair, letting her eyes rake over Sojourn's form.

"No worries, though. It's been a while since someone actually bit back at me. Nice change of pace."

Vivian bristled a bit under her gaze, but remained calm.

"So, why did I need to stay with you then?"

"Can't have ya boss thinkin he's getting off easy or anythin."

"He's not my boss."

She snorted in laughter at her retort, grinning back at her like they were old pals.

"Coulda fooled me. What's your name?"

"Sojourn."

"I know your parents didn't name you that. Real name."

"You go by Junker Queen though. I doubt your parents named you that."

She squinted at Vivian, seemingly a bit frustrated with how quickly she could bite back at her.

"...Fair enough, Sojourn."

Vivian couldn't help the smirk that came across her face, but quickly hid it before the other woman could notice. The Queen stood up swiftly, beckoning Sojourn to follow her.

"Lemme show you where you'll be staying tonight."

Seeing no obvious reason to retaliate, Sojourn picked up her railgun and began to trail behind the Queen, being purposeful with the amount of distance she created between themselves. She let herself look around the hallway that was positioned behind the throne, taking in the rough but intricate detail of the walls.

"Are omnic parts the only things you decorate with?"

"I see em as…spoils of war. I'm sure a soldier like yourself understands the need to showcase her achievements."

"I mean yeah but…seems a bit excessive."

The taller woman snorted loudly in amusement at her comment and opened a door the was situated at the end of the hallway.

"I don’t remember askin for a judgement of my decor style, miss. You'll be staying with me for the night, but don't worry I've got two beds. Unless you'd like to share one..?"

She smirked and wiggled her brows at Vivian, causing the shorter woman to roll her eyes and walk into the room. It didn't go unnoticed to either of them just how small Sojourn looked compared to the Queen, but neither of them brought it up.

"Which bed is yours?"

"Oohh. Ya takin me up on my offer then?"

It took everything in Vivian not to side eye the woman. She huffed slightly in annoyance and looked at her.

"I'm trying to figure out which bed to pick. And that'll be whichever one you don't sleep in. So please enlighten me."

"...The one closest to the door is mine."

She pointed at the other bed that was placed near the window.

"Thought it was a good idea to have a bed there at first, but turns out the draft was too cold for my liking."

"So why didn't you just move the bed then?"

She shrugged and moved around Sojourn to sit on her bed, keeping her eyes on her the whole time. Something about her eye contact made Sojourn feel a bit vulnerable for some reason, but she decided to shake it off. The Queen chuckled and shrugged at her question, her obvious answer being 'why not have two beds?'

"So. Are ya part omnic or..?"

"Straight to the point huh? These are cybernetic enhancements. Almost like…prosthetics. But much cooler and more built for combat. Besides, who would turn down rocket legs? Other than that I am fully human."

“Do they rust? The metal parts?”

“I’d hope not. Kinda need them to be in the best shape possible all the time. But no, they don’t rust.”

The Queen nodded in understanding as Sojourn took a seat on the other bed, making sure to place her railgun on the windowsill in case something happened.

"Ok so why exactly did you want me to stay with you? In your room specifically. I'm sure you have holding cells or something like that right?"

"We do, but I wouldn't be a good hostess if I did that to you now would I?"

"Hm…I suppose not. But still, this is a bit…unconventional."

Odessa shook her head and smirked softly.

"...You do know where you are, right?"

"Fair point."

The Queen shuffled around a bit until she was looking directly at the other woman. 

"Besides. You're too pretty to throw in a holding cell."

Sojourn's brows shot up in surprise, clearly not expecting this conversation to go in this direction.

"...Pretty?"

"Mhm. Problem?"

"I- no I just…this isn't very professional of you you know."

"If you want me to stop I can-"

"No no it's…it's ok. Just didn't expect it."

Sojourn drummed her fingers against her thigh in contemplation. Huffing softly, she looked up at the other woman and squinted a bit.

"Fuck it, why not? What about me is pretty then?"

The Queen smirked a bit at her question, sensing that she wasn't against the interest she had in her after all.

"Dunno. You're just…pretty. Maybe if you'd let me get a closer look I'd be more specific."

"C'mon then. I haven't got all night you know."

The Queen patted on the right side next to her, signaling for Vivian to take seat. The other woman quickly complied, taking a seat next to Odessa and facing her.

"Before you start…looking. I gotta say, you're not too bad yourself…"

"Thanks, I try. Though I must say, I didn’t peg ya as the type to be interested in women, though. Guess you learn something new everyday. Now come closer so I can look at you, yeah?"

"This isn't close enough?"

"For such a disciplined person, you're not very obedient. Might havta fix that. Cmere."

Odessa grinned as Vivian shuffled closer to her, looking like a cat that just got caught red handed. Now, their thighs were mere inches away from each other, almost to the point where Odessa could smell the lotion radiating off of the other woman.

"Good. Now…"

She let her eyes dance across the expanse of Sojourn's build, taking note of how…plush her thighs looked and how pouty her lips naturally were. She stopped herself from touching her though, since something was still tugging at her mind.

"Before I continue, can you answer something for me?"

"Oh, sure."

"Gimme your real name, please."

"...Not until you tell me yours."

"Awright then. Name's Odessa Stone. Yours?"

"Odessa? That's a pretty name. Mine's Vivian Chase."

"Vivian…yeah that sounds…right. Like it was meant to be yours."

Vivian could feel her face heat up a bit at that, causing Odessa to grin.

"Thanks…so are you gonna tell me what's so pretty about me then?"

"Patience, patience little bodyguard. One more question though…may I touch you? You just seem so…soft. Like a weighted blanket."

"Hm…I don't see why not. Just…be gentle okay?"

"No problem little bodyguard."

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Would you rather me call you something else?”

“My name would be nice…”

“Awright then, Vivian Chase. Now lemme get a good look atcha.”

Vivian allowed herself to relax as the other woman dragged her eyes all over her frame, taking note of how blown out her pupils had become by now. “Stand up f’me.”

As if her legs had a mind of their own, she stood up and faced Odessa, crossing her arms and looking at her in the eyes.

“See anything you like yet, Miss Odessa?”

“I ain’t done yet. Turn around..?”

Sojourn obliged, instantly regretting it when Odessa whistled smugly behind her. “Didn’t know soldiers could carry so much…baggage around like this.”

“For a second I thought you would’ve had decorum. Guess not.”

“Oh come on. There’s no shame in saying you have ass you know.”

Vivian spun around and squinted at the taller woman. The need to tear into her for her remark quickly died in her throat as she stared at the smirk playing prominently on her lips. “You’re ridiculous…”

“Not my fault you have a nice ASSet.”

“Uht- I hate you…”

The Queen smirked devilishly at Sojourn, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to sit on her lap.

“Aw that’s too bad. Ya stuck with me all night, remember? So you better get used ta me.”

Sojourn gasped in shock at the sudden action, realizing how close they were to each other now. She could easily feel the heat radiating off of the other, causing her to wonder how she wasn’t sweating buckets in the sheer heat of the Outback. “Ya look nice on toppa me, Vivian.”

Vivian placed her hands on the other’s shoulders and wiggled around to get a bit more comfortable.

“Hm…I think I’d prefer if you were on top though.”

An undeniable twitch could be felt against her thigh, but Vivian chose to ignore it as she stared at the freckles dotted along her cheeks.

“Well, I’ve definitely found my favorite part about you..”

“Is it the muscles or the hair?”

“Nah. Those are nice but these freckles are just adorable. They’re like little stars on your cheeks.”

Vivian swore Odessa’s face turned 3 shades darker from the compliment as she coughed awkwardly. “Well uh…thank you.”

She gently pulled the other closer, letting her breath ghost against her nose as her hands cupped the flesh of her ass. She chuckled as Vivian made herself comfortable against her hold, placing her knees on either side of her thighs. “You still haven’t said what your favorite part about me is, you know.”

“Ah well. Can’t I just say all of ya?”

“That defeats the purpose of having a ‘favorite part’ though.”

“Guess you’re right. Fine…your ass is high on the list but I think my favorite part is your lips. They’re nice and plump. I like that.”

“Hm. Never heard that one before. Usually people pick the thighs or the ass…”

Odessa couldn’t help but frown a bit at her statement and squeezed her thigh gently. Vivian raised her brow in confusion, but chuckled a bit when she realized what Odessa was thinking. “Oh no I don’t feel upset about that or anything. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”

“Oh thank God. Thought you were gettin’ sappy on me.”

Sojourn laughed at her remark, visibly relaxing even more into the other woman’s embrace.

“So, am I just gonna sit on your lap all night, or are you gonna go further with this?”

Odessa’s smile could probably split her lip if she went any harder. She quickly scooped Vivian up and placed her on her back onto the bed closest to the window.

“Thought you’d never ask, Ms. Chase.”

Sojourn visibly shivered at the way her name rolled off her tongue and looked up at the taller woman. “So…what do you want me to do?”

Odessa was placing chaste kisses along her jawline, being careful not to leave any marks just yet. Her right hand glided along the other woman’s torso, letting her fingers drag along the swell of her chest before running them against the side of her stomach. She gave Vivian a bruising kiss against her lips before pulling away for air, her fully blown eyes staring her down as she panted slightly.“Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah? Gonna make sure you’re all mine by the end of the night.”“Ooh. Let’s see how well you can do that then.”

Odessa clicked her tongue sharply and started tugging at the clothes that covered the smaller woman’s frame. After a few moments, Sojourn was laid bare for Odessa to behold, her dark skin virtually glowing under the moonlight that shone through the window behind them.

“Fuck…look at you.”

Vivian groaned softly as the chilly air blanketed her body. She looked up at Odessa, grinning slightly at how hypnotized she looked at the moment. “Like what you see, Ms. Stone?”

“Definitely. Mind sitting up f’me sweetheart?” Odessa grinned as she sat up without hesitation, looking up at the woman with some form of anticipation written all over her face. The Queen swiftly positioned herself behind her, pulling her backwards to lay her back against her chest. She chuckled as Vivian parted her legs, sliding them underneath Odessa’s own to lock herself into place. “Didn’t even need to say anything, huh? Such a big girl for me…”

Her fingers traced imaginary lines against the insides of her thighs, purposefully avoiding where Vivian needed them the most. Vivian groaned softly and made an attempt to buck her hips forward, but the Queen’s legs proved to be a stronger barrier than she anticipated. “C’mon then, I know your parents taught you to say what you needed. Talk to me.”

“Fuck, Dez- please- your fingers…”“Hm? What about 'em?”“Want them..inside. Please..!”

“Oh? Inside? I can do that.”

One can only imagine Vivian’s surprise when her fingers slid into her mouth, Odessa chuckling at her obvious confusion. “Can let em be completely dry now can I? You know what to do now, don’t cha sweetheart?” The grin that spread across Odessa's face was undeniable as Vivian silently hollowed her cheeks out and coated her fingers, letting her tongue swirl around the digits expertly.

"That's a good girl…Just like that. You want my fingers inside you beautiful?"

Vivian's nod was so pitiful that Odessa decided to cut her some slack. This was their first time, after all. She gently slid her fingers out and marveled at how coated they were already. She chuckled lowly at the way Vivian groaned, impatience written all over her body language.

"Needy little thing hm? Alright, alright, I gotcha."

She ran her hand towards the other woman’s entrance, cooing softly at the way Vivian moaned needily for any form of contact.

“Cute…”

She gently traced along her folds, taking care to gather up any arousal that crept its way out of her hole. Her middle finger teased at her entrance, giving it small love taps before slowly sliding its way inside of her heat, causing both of them to groan at the intrusion.

“I just started and you’re already soaked? You must’ve been needing this for a good while huh?”

“Mm..mhm..don’t stop please…”“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.”

Vivian hissed softly as another finger slid its way inside, allowing Odessa to do a ‘come hither’ motion, grazing her fingers up against her g-spot. Within a matter of seconds, Odessa was blessed to watch the other’s back arch deliciously as a clear stream of arousal shot out of her. Both women groaned loudly as the Queen quickly swiped her fingers against her clit, causing the rest of her orgasm to spew out across her thighs and tummy.

“Well would ya look at that…”

She gently shifted Vivian to lay flat on her back as she moved around to face her entrance, preening with pride at how blissed out the smaller woman looked already. Her fingers gently pulled her lips apart, chuckling at how her clit quivered in anticipation. “You want more hun? Or do ya wanna take a breather?”“More please. Right now. Want your tongue on me this time, though.”

“Gettin’ demanding with ya Queen now? You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Vivian parted her legs even further as Odessa knelt down in front of her cunt, her breath sending shivers down her spine as the taller woman’s hands rested on her thighs, keeping her sufficiently open for her.

“You look…delicious spread out like this. All f’me yeah? No one else?”“Yes, yes it’s all for you Odessa. Please…tongue…?”

“So fuckin needy babygirl. You want your Queen to eat you out? Such a pretty girl f’me...”

She let her tongue lay flat against her pussy, smirking as Vivian’s breath caught in her throat from the sheer warmth of it. She placed her thighs on her shoulders, giving Vivian one last look before closing her eyes and swirling her tongue around her clit. The way the woman above her whined was more than enough to make her jeans even more uncomfortable, but she pushed her needs to the side for a bit longer.

"Oh shit yeah- Dezzy right there..! Oh God yes yes yess!"

Odessa moaned loudly into her cunt, reveling in the constant string of moans and pleas coming from the other woman. Her chin and cheeks were drenched in slick, and her jaw was on the verge of locking from how rough she had gotten. Deciding that breathing was probably important at the moment, she pulled away from her core, smirking as she watched the string of spit and cum dribble everywhere between them. Before Vivian could complain, she slid her fingers back inside, hitting her g-spot dead on. To say Vivian was seeing stars would be an understatement as her toes curled and she moaned wetly into the pillow next to her.

"Gonna squirt on my fingers again princess? Come on, talk to me."

"Mhmmm…oh GodDD OH-"

She grinned proudly as small streams of cum shot out around her fingers, hitting her arm and making it shine with slick. Vivian had tears running down her face from how intense everything was, panting softly and sniffling a bit. Her clit was still quivering from the stimulation, and she whined softly as Odessa slid her fingers out of her, another glob of slick coming out of her when she licked her fingers clean.

"Fuck that was amazing…"

"Glad you enjoyed it."

Vivian blinked in confusion as Odessa got up and walked towards the bathroom.

"Wait- wait that's it? What about you?"

"Ah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Vivian huffed and sat up slightly, squinting at the other woman in annoyance.

"Odessa, that's…No. C'mere I wanna return the favor."

Odessa stiffened a bit at her words, turning on her heel to face her fully.

"You sure? It's not gonna be…what you expect."

The shorter woman chuckled and patted the space next to her, making herself as inviting as possible.

"It can't be that bad right? And besides. I really do want to return the favor. Please?"

"Fine…fine. But don't say I didn't warn ya."

Vivian smiled softly as the other woman sat next to her and kissed her gently, running her hand along her thigh. She briefly grazed over the prominent bulge at the front of her jeans, kissing her neck gently as her fingers dipped below the waistband of the clothing. She didn't miss when Odessa's skin heated up from her touch, and she definitely didn't miss when the taller woman groaned loudly from the attention.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah…fuck. Keep goin."

"May I take these off then?"

She snickered as she kicked her jeans off herself, letting her dick spring up at attention and making Vivian's mouth water with excitement. It was a shade or two darker than the rest of her body with a slightly blushed tip, easily the width of Vivian's arm, looked to be about seven inches, and was pierced at the tip and the balls. Without even thinking, she scrambled to kneel on the floor in front of her lap, getting a new view to take in just how big the Queen really was.

"I've heard rumors, but seeing this in person…they weren't giving you enough credit."

"I take it you like what you see then?"

"How about I show you just how much I like it?"

After a breathy nod in her direction, Vivian gently wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft, being careful not to actually move her hand at all. She drooled slightly at the way her dick twitched from the contact, moaning softly as precum dribbled out the tip. 

"Someone's excited… Want me to put my mouth on it? Or do you wanna throat fuck me?"

Odessa's eyes couldn't be any more blown out as she sat up a bit. She gently grasped the back of her head, giving Vivian ample time to back out if she second-guessed herself.

"Just keep your mouth slack f'me awright?"

"Yes…my Queen."

She squinted a bit at the title and smirked devilishly, gently slapping her dick across her cheek.

"Be a good girl and beg for it. Tell your Queen how badly you want her dick down your throat."

Vivian whined softly at her command, slipping a hand between her thighs to calm herself down a bit. She didn't even say anything, she just looked up at Odessa and stuck her tongue out, waiting for her to make a move.

"Well, I can't say no to that now can I?"

Inch by inch, her dick entered into the other's waiting mouth, causing Vivian to gag slightly and Odessa to sigh in bliss from the warmth of it all.

"Aww, she's got a reflex. Cute…"

She slowly pulled it out and slid it back in, taking note of the tears forming at the edges of the smaller woman's eyes.

"You want more, beautiful?"

"Mhmm…"

"Relax your throat a bit then…good girl…"

Vivian's eyes looked absolutely sinful with the way she looked up at Odessa. After a few moments to let her really mull it over, Odessa gently grasped the back of her head and fucked her throat a bit faster than before. She chuckled at the sounds the other woman was making, taking note of the two fingers that rapidly shot in and out of the other's cunt. Odessa briefly wondered if the metal parts of her fingers would hurt her, but her thoughts were cut short as her knees almost buckled when Vivian moaned around her dick. She grasped the base of the back of her hair and hit the back of her throat dead-on for a few seconds. Odessa could barely get a warning out before ribbons of cum shot down Vivian's throat. The taller woman pulled out gently before her nerves got overwhelmed, and she sat down and watched in surprise as Vivian swallowed her load without a second thought.

"Jesus Christ…think that was the best head I've had in a minute."

Vivian gleamed at the praise and kissed the Queen's thigh gently. She stood up and calmly took off Odessa's shirt- with her permission of course- and started kissing along the scars and freckles that littered her body. 

"Perfect…"

She looked up at the taller woman and smiled slightly, absentmindedly tracing lines against her stomach.

"How do you want me, my Queen?"

"Lay across my lap for a second. Gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready f'me doll."

Vivian couldn't help the impatient groan that came from the back of her throat, but she complied anyway, looking back a bit to see what the other woman was doing. She sighed softly as her middle and ring fingers slid inside of her, with Odessa doing a scissoring motion this time around.

"That's my girl. Wanna see if you can take another?"

"Mhm…"

She wiggled her ass a bit to entice her, groaning as Odessa roughly grabbed some of the flesh, squeezing it slightly. Her breath hitched as her index finger slid in, making her press her forehead into the sheets and moan from how exposed she felt.

"Atta girl. Pretty thing drooling all over my thigh yeah?"

She smirked as she sped up her movements, watching in astonishment at the way Vivian's ass rippled from the force of her fingers and the way she moaned into the sheets, gripping onto them for dear life. Odessa grinned as arousal began to pool at the base of her fingers, letting her other hand slip down and rub her clit, matching the speed of the fingers inside of her. Vivian's eyes rolled back as her back arched once more, and they both moaned as her orgasm trickled down her thighs and dripped along the length of Odessa's arm. The shorter woman was trembling as she rode out the last of her high. She whined softly as Odessa slid her legs out from under her, causing her to slump into the bed.

Odessa gently rolled her onto her back, rubbing her sides gently to pull her back down to the earth and ground her. 

"Dezzy..?"

"Mhm?"

"Want you to fuck me…want that dick inside me please…"

"Let your body catch up a bit and mellow out a bit before we continue ok?"

She pouted a bit, but she knew the other woman was right.

"Ok…"

"Good girl."

After a few minutes of gentle touches and soft kisses, Odessa found herself kneeling in front of Vivian’s cunt, pushing her legs apart gently. She shuffled a bit closer, letting Vivian's thighs lean against her own. Her dick rested on top of her mound as she leaned in to kiss her, dragging her tongue along her jaw and nipping the skin gently.

"Marking your territory?"

"Hm. I guess you could say so. You ready?"

"Mhm.."

"Use your words."

"I'm ready, Odessa. Please…"

She grinned and kissed her one more time, slowly slipping into her heat, making them both groan loudly. Odessa gingerly placed her hands on either side of Vivian’s head, peering down at her with a lopsided smile.

"Fuck…There we go. So fucking tight f'me yeah?"

"Yess oh my God!"

Vivian scrambled for purchase, gripping the Queen's upper arms to ground herself. Odessa smirked at her reaction, kissing her forehead gently as she pushed in a bit deeper.

"That's my girl. Pretty pussy made f'me ain it?"

The shorter woman nodded in a daze, clearly still adjusting to the sheer girth of the Queen. She tightened experimentally around her dick, causing both of them to groan softly. Odessa kissed and nipped at Vivian’s jaw and neck, letting the other woman take as much time as necessary to get used to her. Vivian sighed softly, letting her legs become slack against the taller woman’s hips as she loosened her grip on her arms. “You can move now…”

Odessa slowly pulled herself up to sit on her thighs as she pushed Vivian’s thighs apart.

“Tell me if it gets too much for ya, kay?” 

“Okay.”

Slowly, she pulled her dick out, only leaving the tip inside. She marveled at how plush the other’s cunt looked around her like this, with her pretty lips fluttering around the head of her cock like a vice. Vivian’s head lolled to the side as she slid back inside, moaning at how full she felt.

“O-ohh shit…”

“Atta girl. There we fucking go.”

Odessa couldn’t help but swipe at her clit as she began to speed up a bit, taking in every bit of Vivian’s reactions to her. She swore she could see her dick imprint itself in her stomach, but maybe her imagination was just running wild. The other woman’s moans were certainly not her imagination though, and she grinned like an imp at how quickly she had wound her up.

“Look at ya- fuck..!” She groaned loudly and pressed Vivian’s knees up to her chest, angling her dick in a way that hit her g-spot dead on once again. If Vivian wasn’t a moaning mess, she’d probably ask her how the hell she was finding it so quickly. Odessa smirked as she pressed her palm against her stomach, causing Vivian to squirm from the quickly building pressure.

“Fuckk Odessa!!”“Talk to me, pretty girl. C’mon, I’m all ears.”

“Hnn- fuck you’re gonna make me cum oh God.”

She smirked and leaned in close to Vivian’s face, taking in just how disheveled she looked. 

“Sorry, couldn’t quite hear that. Mind speakin up f’me pretty?”

She kissed along her jaw again and sped up the hand that was rubbing her clit tenderly. Vivian’s whines went up an octave, Odessa swore it. She gripped the taller woman’s shoulders and moaned wetly into the crook of her neck.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. So close…”

The Queen grinned as her thighs began to tremble. She pulled out as gently as possible, hastily scooped her up by the hips, and pressed her mouth into her cunt. She smirked as she felt the shorter woman’s release pour onto her tongue like water, savoring every drop like it was her first and last meal. After a few moments, she gently placed Vivian back onto the sheets and jerked herself off, sighing softly as cum dribbled onto the darker woman’s stomach.

GYAT

Should I put my taglist here..?

as always, hope you enjoyed!! ♡♡

[abirdie]

Gael Garcia Bernal: The Dear Heart Of 'Diaries'

Article from the Washington Post, 25 September 2004 (x)

By Hank Stuever

Gael Garcia Bernal: the Mexican actor, who is so very right now and here in town for, you know, just a day -- the whole thing with the big hotel suite and the half-eaten plate of fruit and dos publicistas tappa-tapping en los BlackBerrys over there. (Mujeres! Silencio!) He's promoting his new Che Guevara movie, The Motorcycle Diaries, and everyone who has seen it is going on and on about how saintly his portrayal of young Ernesto Guevara de la Serna is and how sumptuously the movie's 8,000-mile trek across South America unfurls onscreen and oh, btw, critics agree: Bernal's got Che's iconic, serious stare down pretty good.

Green eyes, we write in the notebook. (Big duh.)

Also can testify that Bernal is about 5 feet 7, though it long ago ceased to be news that the hotties of film are pocket-size. More notes: He turns 26 in November. He has a proud, long nose that sometimes blushes red when he laughs. He's wearing one of those Salvation Army-seeming plaid western-cut shirts that often turn out to be designer-label, a pair of deep blue vintagesque jeans and some scuffed lace-up boots the color of old asphalt. His hair is cut bubblegum-mishap short.

Awright, already, he's de-lish. Did we need to bring that dogeared copy of 501 Spanish Verbs with us? Of course not: Dude went to drama school for a while in London when he was a teenager; not long after he starred for six months in a Mexican soap opera called El Abuelo y Yo (Grandfather and Me), and this particular fact has dogged him in every interview. ("People think I did all these soap operas," he shrugs. "I did only that one. And it taught me a lot — it taught me I never wanted to do another soap opera.") When it comes to Spanish, he can bend it to his will, the way Nicole Kidman can do in English, with whatever accent directors like Walter Salles and Pedro Almodovar need him to speak in — Mexican, Argentine, Castilian.

During our interview, he spends an hour dissecting, in English, the current state of Pan-American politics, extolling his sensible, leftist-tinged childhood, and at one point he quotes from foreign-policy magazines.

We hold up our end of the conversation with such questions as:

"So, um, like, what do you do when you're not working?"

"When I'm not doing this?" Bernal asks, motioning around at the movie-star-with-movie-to-sell air particles of feature story nonsense. "I like to do all the things I cannot do as much. My common days are very different now. I would, if I could, I would be home" — Cuernavaca, just south of Mexico City — "and I would sleep until whatever time. Swim, play futbol. Read and go to lunches and the lunches become dinners. Visit family, organize a party for that night."

Halfway through the image of Bernal swaddled in high-thread-count sheets until whatever time, a half-theory privately knocks around in our pea brain:

Gael Garcia Bernal, or someone very much like him, is exactly why so many of us faithful, independent-minded filmgoers still cram ourselves into the creaky seats of dumpy art house cinemas, even as the years tick by and things like Netflix, the Sundance Channel and the nicer stadium-seating art houses came along to replace them. No, you want to see Bernal's movie surrounded by drabness, because you get a better transport to the happy, imaginative place that way. The stale popcorn, the Fandango.com ads, the bathroom with only two toilets. (Cineplex Odeon Dupont Circle 5, we mean you.)

We do it because we're always waiting for that next small-time heartthrob — male, female, or sometimes just the foreign scenery itself. It's the subtitles and the eyes. It's whatever we can't get from those American goofballs who do those blech movies that tend to be about guys who go on canoe trips where a horny bear in the woods tries to hump them. Or whatever.

Bernal would never do that to us.

Hollywood beckons and he rolls his eyes because it offers him roles like, uh, okay, here's the pitch: He's an undocumented leaf-blower yardman caught up in a caper that only Jackie Chan can make right, if only they could understand each other's Engrish, ha ha.

"I'm open," he says. "I am, I am. But so far in the U.S. what they have offered doesn't even get close to the kind of things that excite me. Nothing is quite right, so I think I'll just stick with what I'm doing. I have to stay … hmmm … congruent to myself."

And so that's why certain filmgoers are inclined to sneak off to his "small little movies" (as he calls them) in the middle of the afternoon, get the large Diet Coke and consider the combustion in contemporary Spanish-language cinema that the rare actor like Bernal can harness. You feel like you've just gone somewhere, talked fast, smoked cigarettes. They call him the Marcello Mastroianni of Latino film when they're not busy calling him the Marlon Brando of it.

All that smoldering, the aching of youth! One, please, for the 2:50 showing of Y Tu Mama, Tambien. (That hormonal breakout hit, a coming-of-age road trip from 2001 starring Bernal and his childhood friend Diego Luna — people mix them up, still.) Or the 4:45 showing of Amores Perros (from 2000, translating as wordplay for "Love Is a Bitch," a chronologically scattered tale of how one car wreck in Mexico City changes three lives). Or the 3:10 showing of El Crimen del Padre Amaro, from 2002, about the sinful lapse of a young priest (Bernal, natch) caught up in a small-town mess of church corruption. Its release in Mexico naturally put hard-line Catholics there in a state of non compos mentis, which both baffled and delighted Bernal.

Some of his key appearances have been as himself. Fresh from Y Tu Mama, he and Luna graced the Oscar ceremony last year, cleaned up in their tuxes, to present a small award, and Hollywood swooned. He was seen dancing all night at parties at Cannes. For a while he dated Natalie Portman (well, that's what the tabs reported) and you almost can't stand the fleeting idea of how gorgeous their children would have been. (Cancel that. They broke up.)

His movies are always in exotic, crumbly locations, and we are there, because Bernal is there: the back roads of the Mexican interior, or ascending to Machu Picchu as a soul-searching Guevara or click-clacking around the cobblestone streets of Spanish villas in transvestite stilettos seeking revenge against priestly pedophilia at a boarding school, as he does expertly in Pedro Almodovar's next surrealistic offering, Bad Education, which will open this year in New York. (It's scheduled to open in Washington in January. Sorry, kids. Delayed for possible Oscar-sensitive reasons of timeliness, and to not get in the way of Diaries. He's one of those stars: Two big projects colliding in the art houses of the world.)

If Salles' Motorcycle Diaries, which opens Friday, doesn't make you feel like an earnest college sophomore with a crush on the Marxist professor who teaches your Latin American history class, then we don't know what will. Predating the muss and fuss of the Cuban revolution, the film is an epic, richly hued journey into the formative years of Che, back in 1952 when he was Ernesto Guevara de la Serna, an Argentinean med student in his early twenties.

Ernesto takes a year off school to travel on a 1939 Norton 500 motorcycle with his best pal, Alberto Granado (played by Rodrigo de la Serna), across and up the South American continent.

Guevara, a devoted diarist as a young man, took notes about the people and places he saw, and the gulf between rich and poor (it helps to open his eyes when his rich girlfriend dumps him). The further Guevara and Granado go, the more Che becomes Che, seeing native people and their lives transcending the bourgeois notions of government and ownership and greed. By the time Che's working with lepers in the Amazon, Salles' movie (and Bernal) have reached a subtly beatific realm. In case you're not quite feeling it, Salles ups the noble-people quotient with black-and-white still portraits of the working-class people the young men encounter along the way.

"We prepared for four months," Bernal says of the research phase, and the crew shot the film more or less chronologically, following Guevara and Granado's original itinerary. "I read 1,001 books about the land and biographies [of Guevara]. We traveled. We practiced on the motorcycle three times a week. We asked permission from the gods, and also the local political and cultural centers…. When finally we started shooting, I wondered if we were prepared enough for this daunting task. We got on the bike and the road started to appear and things started to happen the right way, without you even noticing."

Bernal was born in Guadalajara and raised in Mexico City. Both his parents are stage actors. He has been thinking about Che Guevara for half his life — and even played the revolutionary in a two-part miniseries on Showtime about Fidel Castro, which he would appreciate it if everyone forgot. It goes back, for him, like most kids, to middle-school social studies class.

"It happens when you are about 12 or 13," he says. "When you grow up in Mexico you have a very strong connection to Cuba. As a kid you listen to this story, it's incredibly, incredibly exciting to hear. [The revolutionaries] changed Latin America forever and they changed the world. So you start early, identifying with where [Guevara] comes from, and identifying with his ideas in a way, and identifying with the struggle, and therefore you're able to agree with it or criticize it. Leftist ideas redefine themselves constantly. I think my generation is much more critical of what works in Latin American socialist movements and what didn't. There used to be a stigma that any leftist revolution had to come with violence. I don't think we believe that anymore," he says, mentioning Zapatistas in jungles who carry wood carvings of rifles instead of actual guns, just for the symbolism.

You think this sounds a little pinko coming from the mouth of a movie star? Well, you try embodying Che Guevara and see what you feel like talking about when it's over. When Bernal speaks of politics and the world, it's not with fire. He leans back. He almost whispers. It's seductive, in a way.

Early in the shooting, Alberto Granado, now 82, was visiting the set, Bernal says. And he offered this advice to the actor: "He told me, don't try to copy Ernesto's voice, or his mannerisms. He said, 'Use your own voice. All Ernesto was was a 23-year-old Latin American like you. Traveling around. Seeing things.' And I realized that what the movie needs is that universal experience. Granado was right. I have a right as does any person to tell the story of Che."

When it was over, months later, having lost weight to play the asthmatic Guevara as the trip takes its toll, Bernal found himself still wanting to travel.

When the film was finished, "I felt serenely confused, like in a serene state of almost understanding something bigger, and then not quite understanding it. All the time I felt like that," he says. "It redefined my priorities. I have moments where I understand what has happened to me, and then moments where I don't. I wanted to just get back on the road and travel to anywhere." (He sort of does that now, subletting apartments in New York and London, spending four months in Spain working with Almodovar on Bad Education, spending a little time back home in Mexico. He recently spent a month in Austin, shooting an independent film called The King in which he plays a character named Elvis — "the bastard child of an evangelist preacher," he says.)

He says he can't believe how hamstrung American actors arewhen it comes to saying anything political. He wonders if the United States has forgotten how to hold a real election, with real debates. He shows up in gossip columns lamenting the lumbering, impervious quality of American imperialism.

"The U.S. is a great nation that's becoming a war machine. But it is a great people, which can save it," he says. "Some of us fall into traps where we can't say what we think. But it shouldn't be this way. Actors are free. That's the nature of being an actor, to do anything you want to do, to say anything. It's why we're here. And if I were an American, I could be pigeonholed for what I just said."

He'd go on, but our lecture has to end here, for it is time to throw us out and escort in another reporter. It happens to be a student journalist from American University, and she seems excited to meet the Mexican Marcello Mastroianni, but trying to keep it all in check, remain cool.

She shakes his hand, ready and willing for her revolutionary inculcation in the hotel suite of Gael Garcia Bernal. She's exactly the age where a young woman's thoughts turn to putting that Che poster on the wall, and we envy her.

[nonbelievcr]

[ RORY CULKIN, AGENDER, THEY / HE  ] right, here are the files we have on THE CERBERUS  ——— FLETCHER, FRANCIS. 28 years old, CHOSEN MEMBER. current employment looks like a RECRUITER. current residence is a TRAILER in BELLA VISTA for the past 5 YEARS. current views have been noted as NUMBLY INDIFFERENT TOWARDS THE COTC. current risk level has been listed as MEDIUM. 

TW: INCARCERATION, DRUG USE, MENTAL ILLNESS

hi it’s cee again n this is my second goblin francis ! u may call them frankie unless they are in trouble in which case,, let it Rip. as per usual u can find all the necessary info below :-]

AESTHETICS

calloused hands, fingertips moving over a flame, cloying rotted autumn leaves, clothes worn to the point of becoming threadbare, hollow footsteps, purple beneath the eyes, crooked smiles, nineties pop punk roaring from a battered stereo, twice-used cigarettes.

BACKGROUND

a foster child hailing from Laramie with little expectations to rest on. raised on baptist values that never stuck, Francis knew by the time they graduated high school that their parents would never expect them to find success, no matter how much sickly sweet kindness was spoon fed.

academics were never Francis’ strong suit. it didn’t help that other classmates found them strange, withdrawn -  collateral for being the odd one out wherever they went. often preferring to work with their hands, they found solace working part-time at a local garage. never mind the smell of grease and the dark stains they’d come home with on a perfectly ironed school uniform, at least they were doing something.

Francis dropped out of high school in their junior year, spending some time at the garage and most of the time staring at their scuffed tennis shoes while sitting listless on the couch. twenty and eventually with a GED, they took up vocational training. anything to kill time, really.

after a six-month stint in prison for drug possession (a little weed they got careless about hiding), Francis was estranged from the family at twenty-three. it’s difficult to burn out the look of disappointment from their younger sister’s eyes when they stepped out the front door for good, paler and thinner than the family had last seen them. 

eden county’s nothing special, but at least it’s not laramie. Francis agreed to join the Chosen from an older Recruiter who promised a better life than the one they currently lived - bent over a glass of shitty whiskey at the bar of Exotic Jerry’s to the soundtrack of a gruff fight nearby.

the meadows sucked. they opted to become a Recruiter, if not to hold their stead in Bella Vista and to distance themselves from the weirdness of the truly devoted. it gave Francis a good excuse to continue to isolate themselves, just how they like it. 

they’re not sure about staying or defecting to the Resistance. it’s more about the perks that come with it (free food and a snazzy outfit) than their own livelihood.

PERSONALITY & QUIRKS

dumbass first, gremlin second, empty void in general

king of the bella vista trailer park. feels at home and a part of the community there but won’t admit it out loud

nonplussed when it comes to pronouns. francis has never been fully confident in sharing their identity with others, so if someone uses he it’s little more than a second-best option. if they’re feeling less generous, they’ll quickly drop a hint to use they / them

hardly bothers to take their prescribed prozac

proud of having a grand total of like three friends

will sit and watch bar fights at exotic jerry’s with the same emotional investment of going to a football game. usually makes bets on them too

thinks formal wear is a band tee that doesn’t have any holes in it

often calm and friendly. it’s worked out well for francis in trying to get people to join the Chosen, although they tend to keep the demeanour when bringing someone in by force

francis rarely used to fret over the morality of the Chosen, although it’s begun to take a hold on them more often in recent months

individually names the cockroaches that scuttle around their trailer

a generous person, although francis has little to give by way of money

WANTED CONNECTIONS

francis just needs decent friends. please

in more detail:

friends outside of the chosen: townies, resistance trying to work a little information from them

fellow gremlins: someone they’ve met at Exotic Jerry’s (and maybe bet on a bar fight with), people who’ll indulge them and smoke with

listen i love a cliche good influence

someone trying to get them to defect to the resistance

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Keith Max Card story ‘‘Go viral, Helichan!’’ (full)

Translation of Keith Max’ #Photooftheday card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Includes all three parts in one post.

Part 1

Brad: The following is mostly for your information---

Brad: The public relations department has relayed to me that during the next month, Helios∞Channel will be used to hold a campaign to inform the citizens about the dangers of substance.

Brad: Which means us heroes will have to use our respective accounts to post alert messages regarding said substance.

Brad: And until the campaign starts, they’d like for us to post on Helios∞Channel on a day to day basis to garner interest from the citizens.

Brad: This is also applicable to the rookies, each team will have to inform them about it.

Brad: That’s all for the mentor meeting. You’re all dismissed.

Keith: Whew~ Finally done ‘n over~ I’mma leave it here with work too for today

Brad: Keith, there’s something I must discuss with you.

Keith: What now, gonna lecture me again? Cut me some slack. I’ll have ya know that work was only until morning today. So if it ain’t an invitation to drink I don’t wanna hear a thing

Brad: It’s not a lecture. And I’m certain that there are still 12 minutes of your working hours left?

Keith: Ain’t no lecture but yer sure scolding me…

Keith: So, what’s it this time?

Brad: It’s related to the aforementioned Helios∞Channel, the public relations department told me that they’d like to see you post online more often for the time being. 

Brad: Compared to the other heroes your activity is quite low, which means you’ll have to look into increasing your online presence. 

Keith: The hell? Who the hell would wanna see what I’m posting on social media?

Brad: Sparking interest for said thing is your task.

Keith: …This sucks.

Brad: Hmph. I know you won’t do it seriously even if I order you to, which is why I have asked Dino to be your watchdog.

Keith: Huh!?

Brad: Dino, forgive me but I’m counting on you

Dino: Fu fu fu. Leave it up to me, Brad♪ I’ll think of what kind of posts attract people’s attention and make Keith go viral!

Brad: Yes, I thank you for that.

Keith: Naw, don’tcha both just decide all willy nilly--

Dino: C’mon Keith, we gotta head back♪ We must hold a strategy meeting with Junior and Faith at once!

Keith: S-stop…! Anything but my precious free time~!

-

Dino: We’re baaack~! Faith, Junior, you guys here~?

Junior: Hm? Y’know that Shitty DJ’s gone out somewhere? Like didn’t he say he’d be going to the club again?

Dino: I see, he’s already out then

Keith: We all got time off in the afternoon so what’s there to expect. Awright, everyone go do your own thing, chop chop~

Dino: Keith…..

Junior: What’s up? Was there something you needed from us?

Dino: Yup. You see, we like to consult you two about something---

-

Junior: Gotcha. So gotta post on Helichan and get Keith’s account trending

Dino: Yep yep. And since it feels like something typical for youngsters, I thought to hear out your opinions

Dino: Like I think you’re more well versed on what’s trending lately, and you can teach Keith all about it

Junior: Ah-  Looks like posting pics about this kinda strange milk tea is what’s popular at the moment?

Dino: Yeah, that’s the stuff I’m talking about. Let’s try posting Keith drinking some milk tea for starters?

Keith: Haaah? Ya sure that’s the kinda post everyone would go nuts over?

Junior: Keith drinking some milk tea…. Guess you don’t really need him to be in the picture for that

Keith: See!

Dino: Well, the proof’s in the pudding, and there’s the chance that maybe one of the pictures we post will randomly take off, no?

Junior: Then how about we hit the town instead? I got more than enough free time on my hands to tag along.

Dino: Sure, let’s go look for nice spots around town with the three of us!

Junior: Let’s go!

Keith: Just lemme laze around~....

Part 2

Dino: The perfect ingredient for blowing up on social media are animals! And with that, first up is the zoo♪  

Junior: It’s not like I’m the biggest fan of animals but I do enjoy looking at them sometimes. Like pandas rolling out of trees or penguins that are curious about cameras. 

Dino: I totally get that, it’s soothing~♪

Keith: Naw, this took a whole different turn from milk tea…

Keith: Some amateur pics taken by me ain’t gonna do the job here. Ain’t got the skill for photography, yanno?

Dino: C’mon. You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot? Jay often posts about fish and gets a lot of replies on these so…

Junior: And Ren uploads pics of cats too now that I think of it. Those reel in a bunch of reactions. 

Dino: See, see♪  

Dino: So what do you wanna take pics of? Foxes? Coyotes? Looks like there’s even jackals and whatnot♪  

Junior: What’s up with all these being dogs

Keith: Something I’d wanna take pics of…. S’not like there’s an animal I’m--

Keith: Oh? Well if there ain’t a nice one there

Junior: Which is it?

Keith: Look, the lil’ sloth guy

Dino: Ahaha♪ That’s just Keith’s twin♪  

Junior: Puh… can’t deny that they’re the same. There should be a petting corner where you can hold the sloths somewhere.

Keith: Wait a sec, I ain’t gonna hold it. Wouldn’t dare to interrupt the lil’ sloth lazing around.

Dino: It’s fiiiine! They’re friendly with people, and would be curious about you too. C’mon, let’s go over there♪  

Keith: O-oi! Don’t drag me…

-

Keith: “The kinda lifestyle I wanna have”, there we go.

Keith: Look, posted it.

Dino: I’m looking forward to what people have to say~ It’s a really great picture too

Junior: Puh, huhu… this just makes you wanna burst out in laughter. They’re way too similar…

Keith: Ooh, there’s some comments coming in. Let’s see---

Faith’s reply: aha, i can’t tell them apart

Jay’s reply: The way it lounges is adorable. Suits Keith to a T♪

Keith: ….S’all comments from people I know

Junior: Not a single reply from a citizen in sight.

Dino: Hmmm~ And I was convinced it was a great picture too~

Junior: Maybe the sloth was a weak choice. I knew we shoulda gone with lions instead.

Dino: Lions, huh. It’s true that lion cubs are adorbs~ I think Jay also uploaded a picture of him holding a lion cub before…?

Junior: The lions should be over there in the safari zone. Let’s go see ‘em!

Dino: Ah, wait, Junior! C’mon Keith, you come too

Keith: ….That’s just something you guys wanna see, them lions…

-

Waitress: And here is your Mega Sized Chocolate Parfait. The ice cream is already melting so I advise you to be quick with eating it. 

Keith: …S’huge…

Dino: Yep, this has to attract a bunch of attention♪

Junior: Anything animal related had the same kind of reactions. And if that’s the case we just gotta hit them with Uncle Jim’s Diner special mega sized menu!

Junior: Though if you don’t hurry up with eating a bunch of it’s gonna fall off. Any longer and it’ll start collapsing.

Dino: K-Keith, gotta hurry with the pic! C’mon, strike a pose, strike it!

Keith: Hold on, the hell do I have to do for a pose? Will a peace sign do the trick?

Dino: What about a heart? Look, we’ll make a heart like this in front of your chest. And then from the side I’ll--

Keith: Gimme a break~ Don’t wanna flood the internet with cringy pics of myself

Junior: You’re already cringe as is on a daily basis.

Dino: Hmmm. Then, how about holding the spoon and smiling happily? “Waah~ this is delish~♪” kinda feeling

Keith: Uuh, holding the spoon and…”Aaah~ My tummy’s gonna hurt~”

Dino: Awright, took the pic! How does it look?

Junior: Isn’t it fine? Keith’s smile is super forced though. 

Keith: That’s all you can get outta me with a parfait like this in front of me, s’normal stuff

Dino: C’mon Keith, try posting it.

Keith: Yeah I know. “Don’ think I’m gonna eat it all”, there

Keith: ‘Kay, posted it. Wonder who the hell would enjoy me being intimidated by this stupid huge parfait though.

Dino: Don’t say that♪ I’d totally enjoy it if I saw it online☆

Junior: You find anything enjoyable though.

Dino: Only when it comes to things I like, you know? Which are plenty

Keith: Oh, replies are coming in again. Uuuh--

Part 3

Will’s reply: That huge parfait is rumored to be structured in a way that you wouldn’t get bored while you’re eating it! I wanna try it too♪

Faith’s reply: what are you doing? batsu game?

Keith: Agaaaain with only people I know…

Junior: Well, looking back over here, what are we gonna do about this guy sitting here

Dino: Alright, let’s take care of it and eat!

Keith: S-someone please call over some sweet tooth…

-

Keith: Haaah~... ‘m home~...

Faith: Could you not come back without sighing?

Junior: Oh, Shitty DJ, you’re back?

Faith: Just got here. Were the three of you out?

Dino: Yup. Would’ve been better if you tagged along with us though~

Faith: Did something happen?

Dino: Actually, we got an order from the public relations department, they want Keith to try harder with posting on Helichan. We used our time off to try posting about all kinds of stuff.

Faith: On Helichan? Aah, explains all the weird posts.

Junior: Don’t just sit there and laugh you shitty DJ, help us out. You’re the one that pops off the most online out of all of us, aren’tcha?

Faith: All I do is upload information about club performances and selfies… Would that really be an example?

Junior: Geh..

Faith: Well… if it’s giving tips for reference, then there might be someone that could teach you.

Dino: ? Who?

Faith: Aah… hello, Billy? There’s something I gotta ask--

-

Faith: ---Makes sense, thanks. Ah, make sure to bill Keith for compensation. Mhm, if he doesn’t have money then he’ll just pay with his own body♪

Keith: What kinda scary stuff is he goin’ on ‘bout?

Faith: I asked Billy. For starters, animals and parfaits are pretty much the typical stuff everyone posts about, trying to go viral with these is a pretty huge hurdle.

Dino: So that was the reason after all…

Faith: The whole idea of trending online is difficult in itself, but putting that aside, it’d be more beneficial to post at a steady rate about things you enjoy to increase your amount of fans.

Faith: That’s why, isn’t it fine if Keith posts about what he likes?

Dino: And what he likes would be-

Keith: Alcohol, cigarettes, skipping work

Junior: That’s where you should answer with billiards.

Faith: Well, alcohol’s good too, no? Buying rare alcohol and writing reviews about it would get people interested.

Keith: Ooh, now that sounds fun~ And the fact that it’s for Helichan makes it so that Brad can’t get on my ass even if I get drunk♪

Dino: Ah, then in that case you could maybe post about cooking too! There’s tons of people who’re interested in alcohol that pairs well with food, no?

Keith: Food, eh. Well, if it’s posting pics of stuff I made then that much oughta work out…

Junior: ……..

Keith: ….Was that Junior just now?

Junior: W-what do you want me to do about it, I’m hungry! I only ate a parfait, remember!

Keith: Haah~.... Whatever. I’ll make sumn’ that I can post about

Dino: Oh, then I’ll record a video of you while you’re at it. Keith, make sure to show off all you want♪

Keith: Yeah, yeah

-

Brad: (...Keith posted something on Helios∞Channel again.)

Brad: (Pictures of food and alcohol, and the team, huh…)

Brad: (Hm, seems that the citizens have properly engaged with these posts.)

Brad: (It ought to be fine with this---)

[tmae3114]

IT MAY HAVE GONE MIDNIGHT MY TIME BUT IT’S STILL HERO APPRECIATION DAY IN SOME TIMEZONE AND THEREFORE YOU GET THIS FIC I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED AFTER WORKING ON IT FOR A WHILE ON THE BEST DAY FOR POSTING IT

The position of this in the Book 3 timeline is ~nebulous~ but it’s sometime after the hero sees Warlic again for the first and before Warlic and Alexander started working together

trust in me (and I’ll trust you too)

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

Or: a hero and a mage have a conversation, trauma sucks, and actual age differences mean nothing in the face of Big Sister Instincts™

[AO3]

-

There is, for some yet-to-be-determined reason, an adventurer asleep on his couch.

Warlic pauses mid-step to contemplate this fact for a few moments, then realises that the cup of tea he forgot in the kitchen is going to keep going cold if he doesn’t return to hurrying to fetch it.

One severe disappointment in the form of a stone cold cup of tea and the necessary subsequent brewing of a replacement later, there continues to be an adventurer asleep on his couch. In full armour, no less. Even after all these years, he is no closer to understanding how that can possibly be comfortable, for all it never seems to bother her.

He sips his tea contemplatively, then clears his throat pointedly.

That prompts a stirring. Ro blinks up at him, looking for all the world like there is no reason at all to question her napping on his couch. She yawns widely, her jaw audibly popping, and stretches languidly in a very catlike way.

Then, in a movement that is all seal, she twists and flops sideways off of the couch.

“Hi, Warlic,” she greets from the floor, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hello, Ro,” he replies, taking another sip of his tea. “I assume that Cysero let you in?”

“Mmhmm.”

There is no elaboration on that. She seems perfectly content to simply lie on the floor and wait for him to say or do something else.

He drinks more of his tea.

She tilts her head slightly.

His sigh is fonder than he’d care to admit.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he says, arching his visible eyebrow “But are you here for a reason?”

She clicks her tongue and twists in a way that is probably supposed to help her get upright but more strongly resembles a seal in the banana pose than anything else.

“I needed a nap and your tower is always so nice and quiet,” she says, voice cheerful and dry.

In the distance, something – hopefully on Cysero’s side of the tower – explodes.

Ro giggle-snorts as she leverages herself upright using the arm of the couch she rolled off of.

“Aye, awright, point taken!” she calls in the general direction of the explosion.

“A social visit, then?” Warlic prompts, hiding his smile behind the rim of his teacup. “You usually give advance warning for those.”

“Ehhh,” Ro replies, making a wobbly see-saw motion with one hand, halfway sitting on the arm of the couch now “Social with a purpose?”

“Do tell.”

“Artix is wanting to dae a thing,” she says, twirling one hand in a circle as though to encompass the incredibly vague concept of ‘a thing’ “Away out at the keep? Hanging out and having a meal and stuff, ‘cept he doesnae know who’ll be up for it. I-” here, she makes an overly dramatic gesture to herself, the fingers of one hand splayed over her heart “-volunteered tae come see if you lot-” a wide sweeping gesture, clearly meant to encompass the tower and its inhabitants “-were free and when, seeing as I’m popping ‘round t’see Cysero aw the time anyways,”

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

“I mean…” Ro leans back, one arm braced against the back, one ankle loosely slung over the other, casual and so, so at ease “Less a party and more just dinner wi’ friends but aye, thereabouts.”

Are you mad?

The words stick in his throat. His stomach twists painfully. Just as he vaguely begins to hope that it isn’t showing outwardly, that he’ll be able to excuse himself quickly and without a fuss, his tea betrays him by sloshing loudly over the side of the cup.

Ro is by his side in an instant, one hand whisking the cup away from him and the other winding around his back to support him by the opposite elbow, gently but firmly steering him to the couch. He is vaguely aware of a quiet narrative litany – “Woah, ‘kay, c’mere, let’s just-” – accompanying these actions, then he blinks and is sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, knuckles white and chest tight. He blinks again, once, twice, staring down at his hands, then up to look at the adventurer sitting at his side. The way that she meets and holds eye contact with him for a few moments more than gives away the worry lurking underneath the calm on her face. His cup of tea is no longer in her hands. A quick glance reveals it to be set down on a coaster on a side table.

“So,” Ro says, pulling his attention back to her “That was a reaction.”

The noise he makes in response to that is somewhere between a snort and a gasp.

“Do you realise,” he asks, voice trembling despite his best efforts “how dangerous what you suggested is?”

She leans a bit closer and rests one of her hands over his clasped ones. The cool metal of her gauntlet is almost grounding.

“It’s not,” she says. Just like the way she guided him to sit, her voice is both gentle and firm. Kind but unyielding. It’s the voice she uses for Heroics.

“It is, how can you not-”

“Ah, of course, silly me,” she interrupts, voice now completely flat. “How could I not have foreseen the incredible danger inherent in you leaving this tower for a few hours to spend some time with your friends. You’re right, that’s an absolutely mental idea. Whatever was I thinking.”

His breath shudders. A distant part of him notes that she seems to have switched from the casual mix of Common and her native tongue she favours in the company of friends to the – as she puts it, with air quotes, rolled eyes, and disdain – “more proper” Greenguardian dialect of Common that she uses for everything from strangers to snotty nobles; the one she uses to ensure she’ll be understood, for better or for worse. She almost certainly doesn’t realise that she’s done it. That distant part of him aches.

He takes another hitching breath.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

She sighs and shifts to face him more fully, tucking one leg up underneath herself as she sits sideways, and moving her other hand so that both of hers are covering both of his. It helps stop the shaking, a little bit.

“You’re scared. I get it. You’ve told me it wasn’t safe for you to leave before and I believe you. But it’s been years now, Warlic, and if it’s safe for me to come here, why isn’t it safe for you to leave, just for a little bit?”

Because it’s different. Because he could lose control at any moment but maybe here it could be contained. Because it’s his fault, all of it, Alex and Jaania and the Rose and-

Because that monster was a part of him, is inside of him still, and what if I-

Because-

“-I’m dangerous.”

Ah.

Oops.

The look that she gives him somehow manages to be drier than the Sandsea and utterly sympathetic at the same time. He has a feeling that he knows what she’s going to say next, can practically already hear it – So am I. We’re all dangerous, it comes with the territory.

He can see it in her face, begins preparing his counterargument.

“You’re not a threat, Warlic.”

Crystallised disbelief is, apparently, a noise and his vocal cords are capable of making it.

“You’re not.” She squeezes his hands. “You’re in control. You’re not Wargoth-” He flinches at the name, the one he’s only heard in his own thoughts for some time now “-and you’re in control. You are exactly as dangerous as you choose to be and not a whit more and I think I know you well enough to say that that amount is minimal.”

“You didn’t see,” he replies, quietly, staring past her head to trace the grain of the wooden beams in the wall behind her with his eyes “What it was like in the early days. What I was like when I was only just recovering.”

It’s a statement, not an accusation. They both know she would have been there, given the remotest choice. They both know she couldn’t be there. They both know why and who is to blame for it.

She flinches anyways.

It’s the Wargoth in him, Warlic thinks, that makes him be so cruel to a friend who is only trying to help.

Ro breaths in, holds it for a few seconds, then breathes out. She flexes her fingers where they rest across his clasped hands. The motion draws his focus back from the wall just in time to see something in her eyes go firm.

“Right,” she says, with the air of a decision made. “Palms up, in your lap.”

Before he can respond to that non-sequitur, she has swiftly, methodically, somehow still gently, pried his interlocking fingers apart and arranged his hands so that they are resting in his lap, one arm to a leg, palms up. He twitches his fingers a little, wincing at the stiffness in his knuckles after clasping them so tightly for so long.

“Now, close your eyes.”

“Ro, I-”

“Wheesht and dae it, Warlic.”

He closes his eyes.

There are several long moments filled with the sound of rummaging and rustling. She grumbles under her breath a couple of times – at one point, he hears a distinct “why do I even have that?” – and then makes a distinctly satisfied rumble that would be much more suited to her seal vocal cords than her human ones.

A beat after that, something heavy and so very soft is settled into his arms.

“’kay, you can open your eyes now.”

He doesn’t want to. His heart is pounding so wildly he half wonders if it’s visible from the outside. A part of him is desperately hoping that she’s just handed him a blanket, some sentimental symbol of comfort she hopes to share, maybe even something with childhood importance. Something, anything, like that.

The rest of him knows better.

Definitely not a blanket.

The noise he makes isn’t so much a vocalisation of her name as it is a plaintive cry made of vaguely similar sounds. His eyes snap to her in panic and-

-she’s smiling. He can tell not just by the way the outer corners of her eyes have tilted up but by the way he can just barely see her teeth because her mask is pooled around her neck and she’s smiling and she looks absolutely, utterly at ease and-

-and her sealskin is in his hands.

“I trust you,” she says, as thought that isn’t a completely redundant thing to say, as though she hasn’t just made herself impossibly vulnerable, hasn’t just- “I trust you, Warlic. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? Trust my faith in you?”

The sealskin in his lap is thick and soft and warm. He’s bunched his hands in it, pulled his arms in a bit to hold it closer, without even realising he was doing so and he can’t quite convince himself to let go. He’s never seen it close enough to realise just how much the white-on-blue markings look like clouds before.

His heart pounds and his mind races. There are a million and one things that a mage of his strength and knowledge could do with a selkie’s coat and almost none of them are good. I trust you she says but how can she be anything but terrified in this moment, this moment where she has all but put herself into the worst horror stories of her people, how could she just hand this to him-

Wargoth enslaved people. He’d stolen them from themselves, reached in to grab the fire in their souls and twisted to chain them to his will, to turn them into puppets in his hands-

-and his friend has just unhesitatingly handed him the power to do it again. To do it to her.

“Warlic, hey, Warlic, look at me.”

Her hand is on his shoulder now and he turns to look, a million repetitions of the same question on his tongue – how can you…- and then she stands up.

She stands up and takes one step backwards.

A second.

A third.

She stops there, three paces away, smiling all the while.

“I trust you,” she repeats for the third time.

As his vision first blurs, then swims, Warlic finds himself thinking it’s a good thing that selkies live in the sea, it would be incredibly rude of me to give her coat water stains after a gesture like that. He takes one breath, then two, and then lets go.

Warlic bawls like a baby.

Ro returns to the couch, sitting close enough that their legs are pressed together, and starts rubbing circles on his back, between his shoulder blades.

It should feel ridiculous, with how much younger than him she is. He remembers when she had to look up just to look him in the face while he tried to convince her to take a nap, assuring her that the world wouldn’t end when she wasn’t looking if she took some time to rest. She’s grown a lot since then, he knows, but the number of years is such a drop in the ocean of those he’s lived that it feels like she must have barely aged at all. And yet, somehow, the rhythm of her comforting him as though he’s the child in the room doesn’t feel out of place at all. It just feels…

…safe.

Inevitably, he runs out of tears to cry. Ro wordlessly passes him a tissue to blow his nose, then another to wipe his eyes. He has no idea where she got them from, as there aren’t any nearby. He can’t remember the last time he cried like that. It feels… good, in a way, to have let it out.

When his breathing settles into a more sedate pace, Ro pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, Warlic,” she says, voice quiet “You know that I know what it’s like to be scared of yourself. I get it. Just… don’t go letting your fear control you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out “Yeah, okay.”

She shuffles aside a bit, giving him some space, but makes no movement to take her coat back. Not even an aborted grasp towards it, though he can see a line of tension beginning to form in her shoulders that she is clearly fighting.

…oh.

Oh. Of course. Trust. The whole point is trust.

He gathers her coat up in his arms, allowing himself just a moment to appreciate all that just being allowed to touch it would represent, let alone having the entire thing dropped in his lap, and passes it over to her.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes it from him, as though this is in any way a casual exchange. She slings it up and over her shoulders, settling it against her neck where the fur will rest against the few uncovered parts of her skin.

He nods, not entirely trusting his voice.

They sit in silence for a few moments and then she tilts her head to the side.

“So,” she says, drawing the vowel out, deliberately light-hearted, testing the waters “Artix’s thing?”

He thinks it over for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Considers all of his reasons for saying no; considers the possibilities for saying yes. Thinks about keeping himself locked away where it’s safe; thinks about spending time with people again.

He takes a deep breath in, feels his lungs expand. He thinks about a time when, despite everything, he had trusted himself. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? He breathes out.

He knows his answer.

“No,” he says, letting the syllable hang in the air for just a moment before turning to face Ro with a small smile “But tell him… maybe next time.”

[theyanderespecialist]

Sound Of The Devil~ 1 (One Shot) Cajun Accented Human Alastor X OC Marie (Hazbin Hotel) (Yandere)

[Hello My Sexy Readers, this one shot is going to be beyond smutty And Alastor is going to be making marie a hot mess. Now this is obviously not canon alastor this is just how we imagine him if he was sexual. We do not say this is how he should be and as long as no one is being hurt there is no harm in it. This is all for pleasure and entertainments and we hope you enjoy!]

[WARNING THIS GETS SLIGHTLY DARK MURDER MANIPULATION RELUCTANCE AND KIDNAPPING IN THIS CHAPTER]

(Marie's pov)

I let out a sigh, rubbing my eyes as I yawn as I just finished locking the front door a d am now bringing out the trash as I put it down when I hear a scream as I stand up as I see a man running well Stumbling his way towards me. "S-Sir?" I asked as I backed up when I saw the blood as I see a shadow before I see the person. He was a bit taller, in the 6 foot placement, slende--no wait. No there's no way..

"R-Run! H-He's the devil!" The man said as he grabbed my skirt as I see him now.

"Al... astor ." I whimper out

"Oh dear me, cher~" He says. "Now I nevuh wanted you to see me like this cher, not like this... Dere is no helping it cher, yor are gonna have ta come with me."

I was frozen in place gripping the trash in my hand it is tearing. He slits the man throat and my face is splatter in blood. I scream and run back into the building. I run to the door but when I got there I remember it is lock and turn to run to get the keys but Alastor face is an inch away from mine.

"Now cher ya shold go to sleep, ya'll need your rest for tonight my sunberry sweetness.~" He purrs then slams my head into the wood of the door and everything goes black.

(He couldn't just use a pressure point??? He just slams her head xD)

(XD He knows just how to slam it in just the right way it only takes one hit XD

(XD With only a big chance for some serious concussion)

(XD)

I swore I heard the flash of a camerea as everything was black as I freaked out before I realized it's just my eyes are closed as I was met with a sudden painful throbbing as I let out a whimper as I felt like I would cry, not only from that nightmare. But the pain what did I do to my head?

(Oh look you get her!)

(BAD ALASTOR XD)

(bad! Go to the corner!)

(And think of what you done!)

I tried to go and grab my head but I cant move my arms.... Why Cannot I not move my arms!? I look at them and see them tied and thick padded leather binds against a bed frame. I started to panic and felt like I have a panic attack!

"Calm down cher~" I hear the calming and soothing voice of Alastor I know he did this but his voice no matter how afraid I am it makes me fell calm and safe. "I am sorry, I may have hit ya a bit to hard awn the head jest give me a moment cher. I take real good care of ya."

I let out a whimper. "Alastor..Alastor tell me you didn't do what I saw.." "Oh cher it gonna be awright." Oh god. Oh god he killed him. He's going to kill me!

"Oh god...please..please don't kill me Alastor."I whimper out.

He started laughing. "Kill ya Cher? Why awn earth would I evah do a thing like that!?! No no no Cher~ I am going to make ya'll mine Mawn Ange~"

(Mawn Ange Canjun accent for French mon Ange aka my angel!)

(...well I would say that's worse but it's not ;3)

(;3 no it is not)

"i-,I-I dont--"

"aw Cher." He said pushing my hair out of my face.

"you're adorable~! Ah loved ya ever since I first met ya, you was always so put togedder~ even wit dat boss of yours, yous still smiled and did da best you could~" he said leaning in as I turned my head from his out of fear

"Buy ya saw sumthing ya can unseen Cher." He says. "I love ya to much to kill kill ya so I am going ta do something better Mawn Ange~"

"What?" I ask shaking and her turns my head to him.

"I am going make ya all mine!" He says and starts to unbutton my blouse. "Boudy~ Mind~ Und soul~"

With that my blouse and skirt were off and I was in nothing but my bra, panties, stockings and garters.My eyes widen as I let out a small whimper as my hands tried to cover, but the straos kept them tied to the posts. The one day I wear the nice undergarments my friend got me..

"D-D-Don't look."

"Aw now cher ain't nothing no one hasn't seen." He said smirking as I just looked away, shaking still.

"Wait don tell me cher yous still as untouched as fresh snow." He said as my face and went red

I blush more. And he pulled out a camera. He took several photos of me.

"WE got ta document dis moment Cher~ So we know jus the way ya look before I have ya screaming ma name and falling into a passionate mess of all ya breathless moans and glistening skin just like fresh dew awn the mawning lawn. Mawn Ange"

He took them, smiling at the roll before he pulled down my panties suddenly. I gasped and he got between my legs and licked my core and I cry out and he snapped a photo just as I did. Why did that make me shudder in need?

I squirm when I felt him lap at me.

"S-stoo I-It feels weird! Please my stomach! It feels like something's forming!" (Good~ Also that soon? Come on Marie xD)

(XD Yeah Marie XD What does that Accent Edge that much.......... well it does to me so I feel you XD)

I cried out when he shoved his tongue in and I convulsed and he drank what cam out of me camera flashing and I am panting and arching my back rubbing into his face with reckless abandon.

I..I didn't want the feeling to stop, I hasn't ever felt something like that,never!

(Oh girl ..you're so screwed)

(XD So screwed XD)

[So if you want to hear the voice Alastor Ed talk in Alastor roll as Cajun there is two videos you can find it without having a time stamp one of them is a animation the other just a recording of that moment. Look up Hunicast Cajun Alastor and trust me you ears will be very happy XD

Anyways hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy all of our friends!]

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Land On Your Feet ——————————————-

Before Journal was “Journal,” he was Theodore: a mischievous kid with a handful of charm and a whole lotta stubbornness. On a normal trip to town, he sees something strange that would change his life. For better or worse, the kid has yet to find out...  

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

ultimately I had planned for there to be a lot more going on here, but the chapter got way too long and i need validation to live. i’ll get on my other plans as i can, but there’s this for now! enjoy!

“Are we there yet?” “No, not yet.” “Are we there yet?!” “No, not yet.” “Are we THERE YET?!” “No, not y-” “Would you guys quit it back there?! I can’t focus on driving!” “Just ignore them, we’re almost there, anyway…” Such was the standard soundtrack on trips like these. The wagon bumped along the well worn dirt road, the horses kicking up dust as they went. The front row of the wagon was full to capacity- four people across, full of two parents and two elder children, with no space to spare for the four younger kids in the back. Just a farming family on their way to marketplace, laden down with kids and corn. Another standard around here. Three of the kids tumbled around among the market-boud corn, fooling around in the way bored children do. The last sat with his legs dangling over the back of the cart. The farmer boy kicked his feet idly, green eyed gaze sliding over the brush and wide fields along the road. A shock of messy brown curls rustled in the breeze. He reached up to smooth it down. It needed to stay in the cool swooshing style he’d seen on the cover of his older brother’s novels. His plaid tunic hung loosely off his lanky frame, his leggings more like a pair of pillowcases. Hand me downs. Nothing he wasn’t used to. He’d stuffed the ends of his leggings into his boots. Snatched a belt from his father’s closet to cinch the tunic around his waist. A patchwork look, sure, but he was working on it. Heroes can start off a little rough, his books told him. They soak in every little trip until they stumble into adventure. He believed it wholeheartedly. Though he did wish there was more action on their town trips. Heaving a sigh, he pulled his legs under him. Now crouching on the back of the cart, he considered his next move. He could hear whispers of “do a flip- backflip-! Do it do it-” behind him. He tensed his legs, holding tight to the back of the cart. Coiled to flip backwards, he cast a mischievous glance back at his siblings- And caught his mother’s eyes. “Theodore, don’t y’all dare!” her sharp voice flew back. “How many times’ve ah told ya ta stop doin’ that? Yer gonna get hurt ‘n knock corn outta the cart!” “Sorry ma,” Theodore said sheepishly, “cain’t help myself…” He let himself flop backwards instead. His siblings giggled and squawked as he did so, tossing corn at him. Grumbling from the front of the cart said his mother wasn’t amused. But it was fine, when was she? “Theo theo theo!!!” his youngest sister- Elise- chattered. “Whaddaya think we’re gon’ see in town today???” “Probably nothing cool,” Nilo piped up, his arms crossed defiantly. Always the cynic, his younger brother. “There’s never anythin’ cool in town…” “Don’t be so sure!” a chipper voice piped up, another slinging an arm around Nilo’s shoulders. “There could be ghosts ‘er somethin!!!” Nilo’s twin, Tyler, was definitely the more energetic of the pair. Theodore couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. “We’ll find out when we get there, eh?” he grinned. Popping his collar, he leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah heard from Jessie that th’ candyman’s in town again,” he whispered. His siblings’ eyes gleamed in excitement. “Ah can prolly buy ‘n sneak a bag ‘er two inta th’ wagon. Jes make sure y’all stick by ma ‘n pa this time.” “We don’ want a repeat a’ last month,” Nilo snickered, nudging his twin. “Ay, you shuttit, I did mah part!” Tyler squeaked. “‘S not mah fault pa decided ta check th’ cart fer Theo!” “Y’all both need ta pay attention ta what’s goin on ‘round ya,” Elise giggled. “I’ve always been better at coverin’ than y’all.” “Hey now, one week at a time,” Theodore shook his head, beaming widely. “We’ll git it this time. Ah promise.” Theodore cast a look at the cart’s front row. Dean and Carrie were busy talking to ma and pa about something or other. Crop pricing, probably. Didn’t seem like anyone heard anything. Good. He stuck his hand out, winking at his siblings. “Hands in fer good luck?” Giggling and smiling, his siblings stuck their hands on top of his. “Hands in!” “You bet!” “We gon’ git it…!” “Awrite. Let’s get this show on th’ road…”

The wagon trundled into town half an hour later, the horses snorting as their hooves clacked on a cobblestone road. Sun beaten buildings lined the path, worn wooden sides tacked up with posters and shoddy repair jobs. Plenty of people milled about between them. The crowds parted ways lazily around the wagon, a couple people waving or shouting out a greeting. Standard trip. Standard town. Standard people. The kids in the back didn’t pay mind to any of it. Their eyes were fixed on the approaching town square. Today it was chock full of wagons just like theirs. Wheat, beans, hay, millet- you name a crop, someone was probably selling it. A few travelling merchants had their cart shops set up, too. Bright colors and fabric hangings adorned their stalls. All the better to catch someone’s eye. A good thing, too. That’s what the kids were really interested in. Theodore and his siblings exchanged glances as their parents guided the cart into their usual space. He’d have to work fast today. His siblings had better be on their game. The gentle rock of the wagon as his father climbed to the ground drew him from his thoughts. “Awright y’all,” His father called out, hands on his hips. “I wanna see alla’y’all helpin with the sellin today. Les’ git movin’.” Dean and Carrie hopped down after pa, both instantly pulling down their usual stall crates to set up. So those three wouldn’t be a problem- hopefully. He trusted his partners in crime to keep them busy. They’d scrambled down after the group, already squabbling about something or over. Nah. It was ma he worried about. Ma was busy adjusting her large sunhat and southern belle’s dress, swiping off dust from the road. He tried to look as innocent as possible when she turned to face him. “Yer pa’s gonna help Dean ‘n Carrie up front with handlin’ th’ gold,” his mother explained firmly, “so I don’ wanna hear of any funny business goin’ on while ah’m out browsin’.” “Of course, ma,” Theodore nodded. “We’ll be mindin’ th’ shop. Ya don’t gotta worry.” “Mmh. Thas’ what y’all said last month,” his mother huffed. “Ah expect more a’ all of you. No funny dancin’ around ’r tumblin in the dirt ‘r runnin off ta who knows where ‘n scarin us half ta death, or any’a that.” “I getcha, I getcha…” Theodore’s fingers twitched up towards his hair, fidgeting nervously. “I promise we’ll be handlin things here.” Mostly. “Awrite,” his mother said drily. She sighed, giving her sunhat one last tug before hopping down. “An quit playin with yer hair, Theo. If y’all keep treatin it like a toy, we’re cuttin it off.” His hands fell quick as a hare, knuckles nearly knocking them against the wagon’s wood. “Thas’ what ah thought.” Theodore watched her walk off into the marketplace, face burning a bit. Revaew, he had to quit doing that in front of his parents. There was no way he’d let them ruin his look. Sheesh. He waited until ma quit glancing back to move. He slid off the cart, making his way around to the gated back. He grunted as he slid his hands under it, carefully unhooking and lowering the gate so none of the corn spilled out. Around him, he could hear Nilo and Tyler arguing over who’d get to put the sign out. Dean and Carrie would get on that after they finished stall setup. And Elise was up with pa, using her influence as a papa’s girl to keep his eyes on her. Perfect. He fooled around in the back for a little longer, pretending to inspect the corn. He just needed an opening. Just a small one, so he could slip out. Eventually, the moment came. With all three of his partners in crime deep in bickering, squabbling, and poking at things they shouldn’t, the three elders had their hands full and then some. Theodore managed to sneak out easily around the back. He ran along the cramped alleyway behind the stalls, making sure to put plenty of distance between his home wagon and himself. He popped out in the middle of the silk merchants’ stall. They gave him a strange look at first. But when he swaggered right past, hands tucked in his belt and gaze comfortably uninterested, they turned back to business. Good. Nobody ever pays attention if you’ve got enough confidence, he thought smugly. The marketplace spread vibrant and dusty before him. The usual area sellers were shouting to sell their wares much farther down the street. The town kept this place open for merchants. They were hard to come by, sure. But they had their busy weeks. Theodore grinned as the mix of colors, smells, and sounds swirled around him. “Silk! Fresh spun and cut to a length of your liking!” “Handmade bags and jackets! All cheap! Come’n get it!” “Exotic plants! Guaranteed to keep great and make even greater fruit!” “Toys for the little ones! Wind ups, drag alongs, stuffies, we got it all!” Oh yeah. This was a busy one. He sauntered down the cobblestone paths, keeping his eyes peeled for the swirls and starbursts of the candy stall. The more he walked, the more confused he got. Funnel cake, cotton candy, sweet tarts… all good things, but not something he could stash and hide on the ride home. Where in Revaew’s green world was the candy stall? It had to be somewhere- he trusted Jessie to know what was going on around town. If he doesn’, I’ll have ta find someone better ta be my informant, Theodore thought to himself. Nevertheless, he kept moving. Casual glances from one side of the road to the other and a meandering pace let him blend in with all the other market goers. At least, enough to mask his nervousness. C’mon… his siblings would be so disappointed if he didn’t find- Suddenly, he froze, eyes going wide. Oh no. Oh no. Not ten feet from him stood his mother. She wasn’t facing him, thankfully, but she was right there. If she so much as turned her head the slightest bit, she’d see him. And if she saw him now, he and his siblings be in so much trouble- Not thinking, the boy ducked behind the nearest stall, sprinting back along the alleyways behind the market. Ducking and weaving between different paths, he tried not to focus on the sound of footsteps and squawks from someone trying to tail him. All he wanted to do was get as much distance between his mother and himself before she noticed. He ran faster, ducking down alley after alley, desperation and adrenaline fuelling his mad dash. He could not get caught, he just had to find the candy stall and head back, he- he- Wait a minute. Where was he? Theodore slowed to a stop, leaning heavily on a nearby building. He glanced around as he tried to catch his breath. These were alleyways, sure. But somehow he’d managed to stray from the ones behind the marketplace. Through the gaps of the buildings, he could see the wide open fields and scrub of town outskirts. The hustle and bustle of town echoed far behind him. Where, he couldn't place. Oh boy. Well. This is… less than ideal, he thought nervously. Ah guess ah better keep movin. Try ta find my way back, maybe. His steps were hesitant as he moved forward, eyes sliding over unfamiliar wood and stone. Recognizable landmarks would be great right about now. But. Well. He hadn’t exactly been in this side of town. If those were a bust, maybe he could follow sound? Someone was always trying to play some instrument in the marketplace. He cocked his head to the side, straining for any hint of music. He tensed as something else registered in his ears. A strange… puffing sound. Like someone was throwing something at the ground, or stirring up dust. His brows furrowed in confusion. As he strained for more, he caught a glimpse of something bright and gold flashing above the roof of a nearby building. His eyes glimmered softly as it faded away. “What’n th’ hell…?” he mumbled. … his worries about getting back to the marketplace didn’t seem so dire. I gotta find out what that is. Head cocked and gaze sharp, Theodore jogged toward the source of the strange flashes. The closer he got, the more he sped up. The sounds got louder, and he could just make out a voice or two. The gold flashes shimmered bright as diamonds in the sun, looking for all the world like someone was turning treasure into mist. Eventually he spotted a cloud of it receding down an alleyway. There!!! Eagerly pressing forward, he all but ran down the alleyway, skidding to a stop once it opened into a small dirt patch outside of town. His mouth dropped open, eyes widening at the sight. In the center of the patch, someone was busy weaving air into towers. Or, he assumed it was air- what else could the curious coin-colored clouds be??? As he watched, they jumped off the top of one, tucking and rolling several times before their hands hooked on a newly-formed branch of smoky gold. He silently registered a couple other town kids beside him. But they were far from his thoughts. All he could do was watch in complete awe as the stranger swooped and swung through the air, puffs of smoke and gilded air weaving a lovely dance before him.  Eventually, the stranger seemed to notice their audience. They smiled, winking at the little group. Theodore could only manage a tiny wave in return. He’d never- never- seen anything like this. The flips, yes- he’d been doing those since he was little- and the stranger was doing one hell of an impressive job with ‘em- but he’d not seen anything close to the strange gold sheen in the air. Not even in his wildest dreams. None of his storybooks had this sort of- sort of- whatever the stranger was doing. Yet he couldn’t help but feel he was staring down a legend. With a rather extravagant backflip, the stranger tossed a puff of gold at the air before them- and- disappeared?! The little group gasped. Theodore felt his shoulders tense anxiously. Where had they gone? Why was their gold fog fading? Had he just imagined the whole thing??? He glanced around helplessly at the few others around him. They all blinked, just as confused as he was. What happened? Before he could wonder too much longer, another puff of gold exploded in the air above them. Everyone gasped again as the stranger popped back into existence, flipping through the air. Dust kicked up as their boots landed firmly in the center of the dirt patch, mingling with the glimmering sheen of fading golden smoke. Everyone sat in awestruck silence for a moment. Then... The stranger grinned. And took a deep bow. Theodore was clapping before he knew what he was doing, a dopey grin taking up half his face. He faintly registered one of the group peeling off towards the alleyways. He didn’t pay it too much mind. He was much too focused on how the stranger was looking at him. “Well, seems someone enjoyed the performance, mh?” they grinned. Theodore glanced around- surely they were talking to someone else- but, no, their gaze was squarely on him. Everyone else wasn’t even moving. He nodded vigorously, eager smile still in place. “Y-yessir! Er- ma’am- er- pal?- It was real cool! I ain’t never seen anythin’ quite like it!” he stammered.. “Yer moves were amazin- and- what- what was that cloudy stuff?” He paused, wondering briefly if he wasn’t supposed to inquire such things. His face reddened as he continued. “A-ah mean. If y’all don’ mind me askin’...?” The stranger just chuckled, shaking their head. “It’s quite alright,” they hummed. “I don’t tend to pass through here often- I’m jus glad I caught some gazes while practicing. And… I don’t think you’da seen much of this anyway.” They held out a hand, Theodore gasping softly as golden smoke rose from their palm. “It’s magic, kid.” The second the words registered, Theodore froze. Eyes wide and jaw slack, he felt he couldn’t breathe. Magic? That was magic? His brows furrowed in utter confusion. His gaze bounced between the gold mist and the stranger’s face. Part of him whispered he should turn and go, but- surely- surely it couldn’t be! Magic was a destructive force. Something horrid and corrupting and full of nothing but misery and laziness. You knew it when you saw it. You knew it to avoid it. And it was never, never anything good. At least, that’s what his parents said anytime someone mentioned it. That’s all anyone in town ever said when someone mentioned magic. He’d not had reason to doubt until now. “... are… are y’all sure that’s magic…?” he echoed softly. The stranger seemed to pick up on his unease. Letting the gold fade away, they nodded. “Yeah, that’s magic, kid,” they replied. “Swear on my heart.” “But- but how’d ya-” Theodore gestured for a minute, trying to put to words his clashing thoughts- “how’re y’all usin it without gettin hurt or somethin? That all looked like- like fun, not like trouble!” The stranger tilted their head a bit, a flash of something- pity?- crossing their face. Theodore fidgeted a bit, and it was gone. “Magic’s not bad, kiddo, as long as you’re keepin an eye on it,” the stranger said gently. They gestured to the air around them as they continued. “You can do a whole lot with it- every little bit of gold you saw was a spell! ‘S not all bad, ‘s long as ya know what you’re doin. Magic helps ya do anythin ya put your mind to. Like ya saw, you can mash it together with all kinds’a fancy moves, too. Y’all can do amazin’ things if you keep tabs on your spellwork ‘n watch yourself.” “... really?” Theodore breathed. “Really,” the stranger nodded. “Tha’s… I… hey, wait a sec-” Theodore said hurriedly, “who’s the “you” y’all’re talkin’ ‘bout? Y’all n who else? ‘S there other magic castin’ folks around? Where- where’re they hidin? Who are they?” The stranger chuckled at his eagerness, holding up a hand. Theodore fell silent reflexively, standing up a little straighter. They didn’t look annoyed, but. Well. Habit wouldn’t be ignored. They looked down at him, spreading their hands out at their sides. “Well… yeah, if you know where to look,” they smiled knowingly. “Just… for safety, I won’t list names. But, if you want to know…” They leaned in conspiratorially, eyes shining. “It’s me and every other human around.” Theodore stared at them, blinking owlishly. His words took a minute to find their sound, drifting around his head before he could get bits of them out. “Ev… every… person...? Y… w-whaddaya… how…?” he said softly. “Anyone can use magic, kid,” the stranger said gently. “Even you. You just gotta dig for it.” Theodore just… fell silent. This felt like something he shouldn’t know, but. Well. Here he was. And he’d never been one to turn down something big. Slowly, his gaze drifted down to his hands. Anyone can use magic? He knew he wanted to do something big when he grew up. He couldn’t run the farm- not with Dean ‘n Carrie filling those roles. He loved his little siblings, but they… his parents had plans for them. He was just. Stuck in the middle. He knew he had to do something to stand out. And… well… something about the sight of the stranger swinging around, the clapping and cheering, the golden haze and look of pure bliss on their face, the pure legendary aura that hung off of them, and the amazement they got from the crowd... He wanted that. And he wanted it desperately. Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to think on it before an angry voice rang out. “What ‘n the hell’s goin’ on here?!” Theodore froze in place at the voice, body going stiff and straight as a board. Uh oh. He cast a nervous glance behind him. Standing at the mouth of the alleyway was a small group of adults. The kid he’d seen sprint off a few minutes ago was among them, hiding behind the leader. And- with his heart sinking- he realized that wasn’t the only person he recognized. His mother was there. Glaring at him. In fact, none of the group looked happy. At all. “Kids, git over here, will ya?” the leader said calmly. Though his eyes said he was anything but. The other couple kids around trotted obediently into the group. They disappeared behind a wall of adults, a ring of angry cattle protecting their calves. But Theodore couldn’t get himself to move. He hadn’t quite realized how close he’d strayed to the stranger. And now, with all these eyes on him, he couldn’t move. He just looked back at the leader, terror bubbling across his face. The leader eyed him for a moment. With a click of his tongue, his mother darted out from the group. Theodore cowered as she neared, but that didn’t stop her. Her hand shackled quickly around his wrist, yanking him roughly- frantically- desperately- panicky- back with her to the group. He felt himself pushed into the center quickly, pressed up against other wide eyed kids. A second later, grumbling and muttering broke out. Voices were muffled, stretching over him and his fellows like a cup over a fly. What was going on?! He wiggled around a bit, trying to get a good look. But the wall of adults- his mother included- wouldn’t budge an inch. He needed to see what was happening. But he had to work with what was on hand. He took a gamble and crouched down, peering out from their legs. The sound didn’t travel well, but he could see the stranger’s face. And lip reading did the legwork there. “‘S there a problem, sir?” the stranger asked, chipper tone wavering. “Yeah. I’m lookin at it,” the leader growled. He spat on the ground, disdain all over his face. “Y’all know we don’ like yer kind around here.” “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you m-” the stranger tried, but they didn’t get far. The leader took a menacing step towards them. Theodore could feel the anger radiating off of him. Go, he pleaded mentally, you’re not safe here. “Git out of our town,” the leader hissed. “Or we’ll make ya.” “There’s no need t-” “Ah said git.” With another click of his tongue, the group suddenly lurched forward. Panicked legs crashed against Theodore’s back, sending him tumbling facefirst into the dirt. Oh shit. Theodore curled up frantically, arms covering his head. The group surged forward again, boots and bare feet barely missing his body. When he looked up again, the group was advancing steadily towards the stranger. The sight slammed his heart into his ribs. Oh Revaew- what was going on?! The stranger just stepped back cautiously, hands out and trying to placate them. Theodore couldn’t see what they were saying, but he knew they were in trouble- they were in trouble- they had to get out- they- oh Revaew- his breath was catching in his throat. I can’t let them do this.  Scrambling to his feet, the boy ran blindly past the menacing mob. Nobody noticed him until it was too late. He waved his hands at the stranger desperately. “YOU HAVE TO GO!” he cried. And that was all he had time to get out. The mob- that’s what it was- oh revaew- exploded into chaos. He felt hands grabbing and shoving him back behind the adults, many of them surging forward toward the stranger. He tried desperately to slip past- to yell- to hope frantically that the stranger was ok. But they’d been warned. With a flash bang of smoky magic, they were off. The sound and sight was enough to freeze the crowd for a moment. Enough for Theodore to wiggle free and watch. Though the mob bellowed and crashed, the stranger swung out of reach, golden clouds lifting them out of the way. Their gold branching towers ferried them quickly- gracefully- away from danger. With a tuck, roll, and dive, they landed perfectly on their boots a hundred feet away. Theodore felt their eyes linger on him for just a moment. His own were wide, full of naught but wonder. “REMEMBER, KID!” they shouted, turning tail to run, “A TRUE SHOWMAN ALWAYS LANDS ON THEIR FEET!” And hits the ground running, theodore thought softly. 

The boy didn’t really process what happened after that. He felt the mob quiet back into a crowd. He felt their anger melt into crushing concern. He felt the words of many swirling around him, none of them sticking with the phrase that echoed in his mind. Eventually, he felt his mother dragging him back to the family stall, berating and fussing over him the whole time. It was only when corn gently rustled beneath him, and his siblings gently touched him, that he finally broke from his stupor. He shook his head, holding up a hand. He did what he could to soothe his siblings worries. It wasn’t too hard- spin a tale, flash a confident grin, and make some joke about having to try again on the candyman- they calmed down quick enough. He was left to sit in the back of the cart. As the sounds of the ride relaxed into something resembling the standard, theodore stared thoughtfully out over the path. A true showman always lands on their feet. … And hits the ground running. But… Magic isn’t dangerous, not if you keep an eye on it. How had nobody told him this before? Or that… that… Anyone can do magic. … Even him. The boy’s thoughts trundled steadily along like the wagon, though they were many miles away. The day left much to think about.

[obwjam]

knives out anon here to bring you some headcanons :)!!

ok so:

a borrower lives in the Thrombey estate. they've gone unseen for most of their life, and no one knows about them except for Harlan and maybe Marta, who leave the borrower alone (except for maybe leaving out food)

of course, when Harlan dies and the family returns, the borrower's life is thrown into chaos. they're not used to this many people being around-- this many loud, angry people. there's lots of fighting and yelling, which obviously overwhelms them.

then the detectives arrive, who aren't loud like the family, but they notice everything off. they start to notice that something is up right away. 

one day, the borrower slips up. they make too much noise, or knock something over. enter Detective Blanc, who spots the borrower. the borrower is getting more and more scared by the minute.

Blanc, being a very reserved person, doesn't trap them, or yell, or anything. he just sorta says to himself "what do we have here?" and slowly lowers himself to his knees to see them better (yes i'm taking from your most recent knives out post)

the borrower just loses it. now we have the classic angst. Blanc is surprised that they're so scared, but then he thinks about it logistically: he's so much bigger than them, and they're so small. he's not used to having this much power, and he doesn't really like it. 

so he holds up his hands in surrender and is like "awright, it's ok, you don't hafta be scared." he speaks very softly and asks them questions like "what's your name," and "how old are you," and yada yada.

eventually the borrower calms down a bit, and Blanc is happy with this progress. but then he shoots the question "Do ya wanna stick with me?" and the borrower of course is nervous but he says "i can keep you safe," and "i'm not gonna hurt you" and the whole nine. so the borrower sorta reluctantly nods and Blanc is very happy

cue the fluff (the handhelds, the pocket/shoulder rides, Blanc being very gentle and the borrower slowly learning to trust him)

but of course, then that begs the question...

what happens when the Thrombeys discover the borrower?

sorry if this was so long i had to get it off my chest

————

WHY IS THIS LIKE THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER READ OMG. THIS HAS AWAKENED SOEMTHING WITHIN ME THAT I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED UNTIL NOW

[a-sweet-pea]

I’m alive!

No updates to ongoing stories I’m afraid, but I did a little spit-and-polish on an Elle-James borrower ficlet; here it is posted for the internet to enjoy as a reminder that I still exist.

- - -

The bean fell like a dandelion being cut down; an ill-fated step onto a stack of comics sent him toppling over. His head hit the bedside table with a sickening crack and he slumped to the carpet, eyes shut.

“No,” Elle whispered, peering out from her perch behind the entertainment center. She may not have spoken to the bean before (or made her presence known in any discernable way) but you didn’t live in someone’s room for a year without getting a little bit fond of them. Especially when they had such good taste in sweets and television shows.

What if he’s hurt? She thought, stepping tentatively out into the open. He was flat on the floor; his chest hardly rose as he breathed. Surely somebody heard him fall. But there was no sound of footsteps on the stair, no sign that any of the other beans there had heard, if there were here at all. I have to do something.

- - -

Blinding white pain clouded James’ vision. His breaths were quick and shallow. He didn’t know what had tripped him up, but he cursed whatever it was under his breath. He’d hit his head, hard. I hope I’m not bleeding. He moved his arms to push up off the floor, but they buckled when he tried to put his weight on them. “Christ,” he grunted. The room went fuzzy. Something brushed against his leg, but he didn’t move; he wasn’t sure if he could. He could swore he felt his phone coming out of his pocket. Must be at a weird angle or something.

“Hello, 999?”

James’ head throbbed. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a weak groan.

“My...friend fell and hit his head; I think he might really be hurt.”

A cluster of pain tightened in the base of James’ skull. Where’s the voice coming from? It was a woman’s voice, one he didn’t recognize. He couldn’t imaine how a strange woman got in his room. There was wetness on the base of his skull, and his eyelids were getting droopy.

“I don’t know if he has a concussion, please, just get here as quickly as you can.”

He managed to turn his head a fraction, and caught a glimpse of a miniscule figure, sliding a miniature hand across the screen of his phone, before his eyes shut.

- - -

James was careful lying down so his head hit the pillow gently. The doctor had said he should take a lie down, now that his parents were home and they could keep an eye on him. He wasn’t going to go to sleep; he knew enough to know that was a bad move when you’d had a head injury, possibly a concussion. He didn’t say as much to the doctor, but he was fairly sure he did have a concussion, or something terribly wrong with him, seeing the last thing he’d seen before passing out was a little person. He closed his eyes and tried to picture them in his mind, but the image was blurry. I’ll go downstairs for a tea in a few minutes, he thought. But not before he took a few quiet moments just to lay down; hospitals were stressful places.

He hadn’t been lying down more than a few minutes when he heard a small noise. He opened his eyes a crack, not enough so that anyone would know they were open, and saw something very small climbing up onto the mattress beside him, something not much bigger than a mouse. He shut his eyes again and tried to breathe slow and steady, like he was sleeping. Either the head injury was worse than he thought, or there was in fact a little person in the room, perhaps the same one that had called the ambulance. Nice of them to come check on me. Now there was a delicate touch on his head, and James had to fight to keep from smiling. When the touch disappeared, he opened his eyes a crack again. There was the small figure of a girl, four inches tall, walking away from him.

“Ah thought I’d imagined ye.”

- - -

Shit. Elle stared down the bridge of a giant nose to two curious eyes beyond. This is what I get for trying to be nice. She did a one-eighty and took off at a run back toward the earring-hook grappling line stil caught in the cover at the base of the bed.

“Whoah, slow doon!” A wall of flesh thudded down in front of her, deforming the soft blanket below. She struggled to turn the other way again on the uneven surface, but it was no use; she faced an equally high wall in the opposite direction.

“Shit.”

“There, jist haud still a wee minute, aye?” The bean’s face loomed above her and the hands on either side came close, cupping around her.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, fruitlessly trying to pry apart his fingers as they closed tight in front of her. For a moment, she was in a tumble of warm darkness, and then the sky opened up above her, revealing the bean’s staring face.

“Hullo.” Elle covered her head with her hands and curled up tight. “Och, ye poor wee sowel, dinnae dae that. I’m no gonnae hurt ye.” She looked up, shoulders still hunched. “Ah want tae thank ye!”

“Thank me?”

“Aye!” He smiled. “You called the ambulance, didn’t ye?” A blush rose in her cheek. She looked away and nodded, unable to muster any words. “Christ, but you’re a tiny wee thing. Must be how ye’ve been living here aw this time without me noticing.

“I, I don’t-“

How else would you know the address tae give the paramedics?” Elle flushed. Stupid, stupid, now you’ll have to move, and it’ll be somewhere with spiders with a bean who doesn’t like any of the snacks I like.

“It’s awright, I’m no mad!” The hand lifted higher, closer to his staring face. “Ken ah might ae had a concussion, aye? And naebdy else was home. If ye hadnae called, ah might have died.”

Elle shook her head. “You wouldn’t have died.”

“Mebbe not,” he conceded. “But ah’s be in worse shape, for sure. So,” he smiled wide. “How do ah reward ma wee lifesaver?”

“What? N-no, I don’t need-“

“And I’ll no be taking no fer an answer.” The hand lowered until it was resting on the bed again. Elle clambered off the bean’s palm and found her footing on the blanket. The bean’s head and shoulders rose as he stood up from the bed. For a moment, she was gripped by a desire to run, looking at the full height of him. She could probably get pretty far before he could react; the hand hanging at his side would reach for her, but she would be too far away, halfway down the bed. The urge was powerful, but it was brief. She was used to this view of him, towering over her, but the eye contact and the smile were new, and foolish as it was, they made her want to stay. For the moment, anyway.

“How’d you like a cup of tea and a biscuit?” Elle sat herself down in a fold of the blanket.

“I would like it very much, thank you.”

[sohin-ace]

Jonathan - Sick

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

F/N means father's name awright.

It's been quite some days since you have seen your friend Jonathan. You two would usually hang out after school and during the week ends to talk about your day, joke and play around, or even share some snacks together sometimes, as friends do.

But these past days, you've been waiting for him at your usual spot, but he hasn't been showing up. This worried you a lot since he never ever dumped you or made you wait as he was really serious about acting like a real gentleman and treating a lady properly.

You knew he also had some problems with his adoptive brother Dio and you got scared that maybe they got into a fight again, or something bad happened to him. You decided to go visit the Joestar Mansion and see for yourself what was happening.

You came to the huge wooden doors of your best friend's home and knocked. You dusted off your dress a little bit and made yourself presentable, waiting for an answer. A moment later, the locks clanked and the door opened. You were then greeted by a nice-looking maid who smiled politely at you.

"Hello, my name is Y/N L/N, daughter of F/N L/N. I came to visit Jonathan, is he here?" The maid's face brightened visibly.

"Aah! You are milady Y/N that young master always talks about! Please be welcomed!" She stepped aside, gesturing you to come in and you complied, thanking her.

The maid then closed the door behind you and, as she asked you to follow her, a tall blonde figure came elegantly descending from the stairs.

"Don't fret, Sakuya. I will take our guest to Jojo's room." He said in his deep, smooth voice while looking down at you. You stared back, unfazed.

"Ah! How considerate of you, young master Dio, thank you very much!" the maid bowed to him and walked away, getting back to her own business and leaving you both alone.

You stared at him as he approached you. You didn't know much about Dio, you only met him a couple times, but you already knew from what Jonathan told you, and from your small encounters with him, that Dio was not the person to be trusted. You were very wary of him.

Although charming and handsome, the guy radiated an eery aura and had this intimidating scarlet gaze that always put you on edge.

You understood how girls would fawn over him and how guys would want to be his friend, but you personally, would rather keep your distance. Everything about him screamed 'danger'. Overall you always kept your guards up around him.

"Oh please Y/N dear, don't show me that face, I don't bite." The blonde smirked as he got closer and closer.

Your eyes darted away from him and you tensed up, not saying anything. You had nothing to tell him, you weren't here to deal with his shenanigans anyway.

He stood next to you and kindly offered his arm out. "Now, shall we go?"

You reluctantly slid your hand around his arm and walked with him to Jonathan's room, never making eye contact.

"You're awfully silent Y/N, I'm hurt." Dio feigned. "Don't you want to know why Jojo has been absent as of late?"

"Don't bother. I'm here to figure it out." you huffed and he chuckled at your defiance.

You detached yourself from him as soon as you reached the front of Jonathan's bedroom. You knocked gently on the door when Dio continued.

"You being stone cold won't stop me, Y/N you know it." You paused, glaring at the door until you heard the faint sound of Jonathan's voice.

"...Have a nice day, Dio." You then entered the bedroom and you swore you could feel the blonde smirk behind you.

You closed the door a bit harder than you intended and sighed. Upon entering, you immediately noticed your friend laying in his bed, a wet cloth resting over his forehead. His face was flushed and he breathed in slight pants. He tiredly looked over at you and smiled weakly.

"Ah, Y/N it's you!" He tried to sit up but you rushed towards him and pushed him back down.

"No no no, Jojo don't get up. Are you okay? What happened to you?" His eyes softened at your worried self.

"It's nothing really, I'm just a little sick. I think I must have eaten something I shouldn't have, but I'm fine." He chuckled sheepishly and you sighed in relief, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

You always imagined the worst case scenarios, especially with Dio around the corner ready to trouble him and make his life a mess.

"Anyway, what a surprise!" he started, his voice hoarse, "It's so good to see you!" He smiled weakly which melted your heart.

"Of course, Jojo. I missed you." you softly spoke and and he couldn't help but stare at you, taking in your beautiful form. He missed you too.

You took a moment to observe his features as well. This boy scared you so much sometimes with his foolishness. You brought your hand to the side of his face and caressed his warm cheek gently and he let you do as you pleased.

"What will I do if you don't even take care of yourself." you laughed then paused. "I was worried you know, when you stopped showing up..."

Jonathan felt a pang in his heart. He felt bad. First of all, his pride as a gentleman was hurt for abandonning and letting down a lady, but most importantly, he felt horrible as a friend, for making you worry about him and leaving you alone.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to tell you, but I knew that if I sent Dio to let you know, he probably wouldn't have done it..." He looked away, as disappointed as you were.

'Of course.' you thought to yourself, annoyed but not surprised.

As a comfortable and relaxing silence fell upon the room, you let your hand glide from his cheek to his neck in a feathery light touch. He blushed an even darker shade of red than he already was and his mouth was agape as a silent gasp escaped from it.

Your hand was so soft and gentle on him, like the touch of a caring mother. Something that he never experienced.

His skin almost burned you with his fever. "Jojo, you're very hot. You should rest for a bit."

He then grabbed your wrist and widened his eyes. "You're leaving already? I'm not sleepy, you can stay!"

You chuckled at the boy. For a strong, big guy, he sure acted cute and childish sometimes. You pulled the blanket higher over his body and patted him, effectively soothing him. His heart was beating hard in his chest, but he was relaxed. Being with you was the only medecine he needed.

"Okay then, I'll stay. If you need anything, tell me and I'll go bring it to you, okay?" he nodded.

There was another moment of silence where only his breathing and you patting his covered chest could be heard. You looked around a bit and noticed small rags, medecine and a water bowl on his bedside table with a little bit of unfinished bread. You would make sure he ate that bread later.

You took the wet cloth on his forehead and dipped it in the water to cool it down. You squeezed the exceeding water out, and gently laid it back on his forehead.

You then pressed your now cold and wet hands over his burning cheeks and the dark haired male smiled in delight.

"Aah it feels good Y/N~ Thank you! When I get better I'll make it up to you."

"There's nothing to make up for, Jojo. It's only natural." You reassured him.

"Still... You always take care of me, without asking anything in return... " He took one of your hands in both his and turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of it. His soft lips tickled you and your heart beat hastened.

Still kissing you, his eyes fluttered open and he glanced at you through hooded lids and you blushed madly at his enticing expression. Even sick, he was still handsome as ever, and his actions never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

You could never get enough of the Joestar heir and it drove you crazy sometimes. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by his voice.

"This is why I fell in love with you..." He breathed, nuzzling your soft hand like it was a treasure and your own breath hitched at his confession.

"J-jojo...! You are sick right now, you're not thinking straight. Please, go to sleep." you reasoned, utterly flustered.

You didn't know how to react yet. You knew you loved him to death too, but you wanted to make sure he was in good condition to talk about feelings. Also, you wouldn't take advantage of a sick man like this for your own interest, so you decided to wait before answering any kind of confession.

"But I'm sincere, Y/N." He gazed at you intensely with blue glossy eyes. "You are so beautiful..."

Your eyes widened and you gasped, fighting back a squeal. This was too much for you, you had to stop his madness, now.

You released your hand from his grasp and tucked his own under the blanket. You caressed his hair gently to try and lull him to sleep.

"The fever is making you talk nonsense, Jojo. Please now, rest. I'm here so you can close your eyes."

"Aah... Maybe you're right... I'm a little bit... tired... I... slee...p..." he slurred his words more and more until he finally let out soft snores, signaling he fell into dreamland.

You sighed heavily. Your heart was still pounding hard and fast inside your ribcage and you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed and shaken by his earlier words. This boy will kill you one day.

"Please, please God, let his words be his actual feelings, don't make me hope and hurt me like this..."

You couldn't see it, but Jonathan's lips broke into a secret smile.

Did you see that Touhou reference I made there? Except it totally doesn't match Sakuya's character lol she would stab Dio in the face with no warning.

[phobiadeficient]

Gosh I loved Running Blind, like literally it's my favorite fic in the fandom and one of my top three in general. The slow burn and mutual pining is so good dude it's hard to find quality writing like that and I really like that it's more on the sfw side. All the stuff posted here is amazing too. Anyways uuhhh if you're comfy with it could you maybe do a SpeedingBullet fic where Scout gets fisted? Thanks for all your wonderful contributions to the fandom!

thank u very very much you’re very kind anon!! and sure thing dude here ya go

(warnings for emotional overload, although still with clear and enthusiastic consent)

-

Scout whimpered on each exhale, head rolled back, neck exposed in such a way that Sniper very much wanted to lean in and get his mouth on it were he not otherwise occupied.

It was something Scout admitted he’d wanted to try for a pretty long time, a recurring fantasy of sorts. Not such a surprising one—Scout was very much into bottoming, and had only topped once or twice at Sniper’s direct request. He was one of the rare sorts who could finish untouched while getting fucked, and on a few occasions Sniper had been coaxed into stretching him further than was strictly necessary for the main act.

So this step up into Sniper trying to work his whole hand in, well, it didn’t really catch Sniper by surprise.

Half of it, Scout had admitted, flushed up to his ears, was how big Sniper’s hands were. The other half was just the idea of it, of Sniper being wrist-deep, stretching him open and open and open—

Just talking about it had gotten Scout so worked up he’d ended up sucking Sniper off then and there, which was evidence enough for Sniper that he really did mean it.

It had been slow going, working Scout up to four fingers. He’d been so worked up that he was a bit more tense than usual, and Sniper had made the call that he wouldn’t be able to control himself long enough to go the full distance and had tied his wrists up above his head so he wouldn’t try and reach for himself. And about the third time Scout wiggled so much that Sniper’s fingers nearly slipped out, he’d tied his legs ankle-to-thigh to put a stop to that, leaving Scout pinned open and vulnerable in a way that set him to shivering and made Sniper need to stop entirely for a few minutes lest he accidentally send Scout over the edge.

Four fingers deep had Scout already well into ecstasy, mind clearly turned to jelly, half-begging half-pleased noises spilling from his lips every time he shifted. His dick was leaking all over his lower stomach, and he was sweating and flushed from head to toe, and his eyes were rolled back in a way that was very rewarding.

It was a little hard to tell exactly when Scout was ready for more when he was reduced to gibberish, but Sniper was taking things almost painfully slow either way, both because he didn’t want to hurt Scout and because he didn’t want Scout to finish yet.

So he pushed and pulled, rotated his hand in small amounts, added just a bit more lube for good luck and thanked his foresight to put a towel down. Scout mostly just whimpered and moaned, entire body rocking with even the most minute motions. Sniper flickered his fingers just to make Scout’s voice rise almost into a howl, just to hear him groan in complaint when Sniper stopped, body falling still again.

He stroked his free hand up Scout’s stomach and back down again to squeeze his hip. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, more to give Scout the comfort of his voice than to get an answer. “There’s a beaut. Just take it easy, there.”

The closest thing that night to a moan fraught with discomfort came as Sniper managed to work his knuckles in and out once, twice, getting him used to the stretch. It was unbelievable how tight Scout was, but how far he was capable of going anyways. And Sniper knew he was going to be wacking off to high heaven as soon as he could, very much finding the show to be beyond erotic, but in the mean time he was more concerned with staying focused, keeping Scout there at a manageable level of pain and pleasure.

He watched Scout’s dick twitch and leak with another push and pull, and god, it was almost too much.

“Just a bit further, love,” Sniper soothed, free hand smoothing down his inner thigh gently as he made one more firm push to be sure before he pulled his hand out enough to readjust, trying to find a good shape to get his hand in. “Ready?”

Scout’s head whipped up when he was hit with the realization, and his expression was hazy and disoriented, but he couldn’t have been more clear the way he nodded, the way he got his words back enough to stammer out “do it, do it, fuckin’ do it—“ until Sniper did.

He felt his concentration narrow, watching every tic and every twitch of Scout’s muscles, every shift of his expression, every centimeter being a careful calculation as he pushed. And he glanced down once or twice to see how much further he had to go, and was extremely impressed with how well Scout was handling this.

Until his thighs twitched and some muscles in his lower abdomen twitched and suddenly Scout let out a bark of noise, tension rocketing up through his shoulders and arms, making him strain against his bonds. Sniper froze immediately. “You awright?” he asked softly.

“Fuck—fuck—“ Scout gritted out, eyebrows drawn together hard. And Sniper pulled out a few crucial centimeters, and Scout slowly, slowly relaxed enough to breathe a sentence or two. “That was—too—too good too fast and I was—I almost came—f-fuck—“

His voice was all shivery, and he practically sounded on the verge of tears, and Sniper suddenly wished that this wasn’t going to completely obliterate Scout because he wanted to fuck him so badly, he looked so desperate and sweet and vulnerable and debauched.

“Snipes, I wanna come,” Scout suddenly pleaded, still desperate and whimpery. “I-I-I wanna come. Please. Please, fuck, I—“

“You told me not to let you come until I was wrist-deep,” Sniper reminded him gently, free hand stroking up his stomach again. “And we’re nearly there.”

Scout’s chest was heaving, muscles pulled taut.

“You can hold out, love,” Sniper said, “I know you can.”

“Just fuckin’ hurry up,” Scout managed, and Sniper hesitated for only another few seconds before he started pushing in again.

It was easy from then on, Sniper taking it slow and steady, and he was mesmerized by the way Scout shifted and writhed and shivered under the onslaught of sensation. Then they passed the widest point, and then he was in, sinking up to the wrist and feeling heat spring through his body at the moan of abject pleasure Scout released.

An overwrought whimper on every exhale, Scout starting to struggle in earnest against his bonds as he tried to roll down into it, tried to get some kind of movement or friction or pressure or anything. Sniper indulged him in the lightest push-and-pull, and it had Scout shouting outright, head thrown back again.

“Feel good?” Sniper asked quietly.

Scout gritted out something in the affirmative. His breath was back to fast and hard. “I’m so fuckin’ close, Snipes,” he managed once he had himself reasonably under control.

Sniper hummed to show he heard, shifting his hand slightly out and then back in again, hardly anything at all. But that was enough to make Scout cry out again. Every minute shift had Scout jerking bodily, had him shouting, practically howling. His eyes were wet, threatening to overflow, and he was covered in sweat, and his dick was throbbing and leaving dampness across his stomach, and every part of this was so messy, and Scout had never looked more desperate for anything.

And soon enough he was begging, babbling, begging Sniper to please touch him—“I am touching you, love,”—to please touch him he was gonna come please touch him—“Well, since you asked nicely...”

And Sniper stroked Scout, teasing and light, saw the way his chest was heaving with every breath, saw him tense, and then he yelled, screamed, and then he came, struggling to inhale, shivering, trembling bodily.

And Sniper winced a little at the discomfort of Scout’s muscles crushing his hand, but focused more on trying to read when he should pull back out. The answer was almost immediately, because even as Scout was untensing and coming back down he was wracked with sobs.

Sniper did cleanup as quickly as he could manage and untied Scout, chest aching, even as he wasn’t particularly surprised. He knew this happened on occasion, that sometimes (as Scout explained it) he would recover from being overwhelmed physically before he was done emotionally and he just—

Just needed a minute.

And Sniper held on to him tightly, rolling him onto his side and spooning him from behind, pressing kisses to the back of his neck and head to help soothe him, hands stroking idly over his sides and stomach and a little ways down his thighs. And Scout seemed to be taking a much longer time to recover than usual—not surprising—but he leaned back into the attentions nonetheless.

And then he was fizzling out into soft, shaky breathing, and shifted back against Sniper more deliberately, and Sniper’s breath caught as Scout grinded back against him. He caught Scout by the hip with one hand to stall him. “Love...” he trailed.

“C’mon, you gotta get off too,” Scout mumbled, voice quiet, and Sniper considered talking about it further for only a few moments before giving in, shifting their position slightly before starting to roll his hips forward.

And admittedly, even taking things slow and steady, not particularly rushing, he’d been set so on edge from the show that he knew this wouldn’t take long. And it wasn’t terribly long before Scout was more overtly rocking back against him, having recovered some meager amount of energy, urging him on, making heat jump into Sniper’s veins to carry him higher. And Scout shifted at one point to be slightly higher on the bed, and Sniper swore into his shoulder when he was guided to fuck the space between Scout’s thighs, and it was over not long later, a much less full-bodied and overwhelming orgasm but a satisfying one nonetheless.

And later, once Scout got his brains unscrambled, they ended up talking more, and Scout admitted that he probably wouldn’t be able to handle something that intense on the regular, but also that was the best thing and please could they do that again at some point? Maybe on his birthday or something? Please? And Sniper agreed wholeheartedly.

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

Conversations Between Travelers #13

As your hands glided across his skin, he melted under your touch. You knew exactly where he needed your hands and you delivered. The feeling of your nimble fingers working expertly across his bare skin was euphoric, his body responding to your touch.

Javier had a nasty case of scoliosis and while there was nothing you could do to straighten his spine, you could at least help with pain management. You wondered if people were even diagnosed with scoliosis back then- now? It would take you forever to adjust to this monumental time change. 

The other gang members were slowly beginning to trust you and now you were keeping quite busy most days helping relieve your new ragtag family of their various aches and pains. The girls were quite quick to jump on the massage train- even Molly sees you regularly and the two of you talk almost the entire session. Hosea still sees you at least once a week, sometimes twice if he’s having a bad week. Pearson, Grimshaw, and Dutch have all been added to your list and unsurprisingly Uncle is constantly hounding you for a “rub down” as he calls it. Much to your surprise though, Arthur has yet to come to you for your services. This was strange to you- for the most part the people who hadn’t come to you were the ones who were still weary of your presence. You figured especially after the other night he would be first in line to see you- that man works his ass off from dawn till dusk and you knew he was full of knots and stiff muscles. You didn’t take it personally though, plenty of people just aren’t comfortable with being touched.

As your hands lifted off his shoulders you whispered, “okay Javier time’s up.” 

With a snore he awoke from his light slumber- he always falls asleep on you. “Okay mija, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

You nodded and wiped the sweat from your brow as you slipped through the flaps of your tent. You squinted as the harsh sun hit your eyes- the sudden shift of dark to light was almost enough to give you a headache. When your eyes adjusted, you noticed Arthur waiting just outside your tent scribbling in his journal. You smiled, “writing or drawing?”

“None of yer business.” His tone was playful, as that smile danced across his lips. It was getting harder and harder not to stare at those lips. 

You rolled your eyes, you were going to respond with a witty remark when Javier emerged from your tent. You turned to face him, but not before catching Arthur’s smile turn down just slightly. “How ya feeling now, Javier?” 

He gave you his usual flirtatious smile as he stretched, “I feel great, you are a miracle worker mi amor.” His eyes caught Arthur and he smirked. “She’s got magic hands, this one does.”

You giggled, “you’re too sweet Javier, really.”

Arthur watched your conversation awkwardly as the frustration was settling in. Couldn’t Javier see you were just talking to him? As Javier walked away, he threw Arthur a glance that said he knew exactly what he was doing and it made Arthur’s blood boil. The most bothersome part was how you responded; always with a laugh or a playful smack to the arm. It wasn’t any different from the way you treated Arthur, so why did it bother him so much? But something deeper answered before he could stop himself: that’s exactly what bothered him. Whether he admitted it or not, your attention was growing on him, the way your hand would gently rest against his arm, the way your head tilted backwards during a jovial laugh. That was exactly what bothered him- these small moments weren’t so special if they were shared with others. The storm inside him was quelled when you turned back to him, that beautiful smile you always wore beaming at him. When Javier walked away, you beckoned Arthur to follow- he couldn’t resist if he tried.

“So, you finally decide you’re gonna let me work on you?” You asked as you walked back into the tent. 

He followed and helped you flip the sheets on your cot- the idea of just flipping sheets made you cringe and god  knows if state board were a thing now they would have a cow, but you deal with the resources handed to you. “Naw, John said he had a job in town and I figured I’d ask if you wanted to join.” 

You almost dropped the towels you were holding. “Really? You mean it?” 

He nodded and before he could react you were across the tent with your arms around his neck. The sheer force of you flinging yourself to him knocked an oof  from his chest. He tried to hide his flush under his hat as you let him go. “Awright awright, don’t strangle me before we get there.” 

You giggled, “sorry Arthur. Javier was my last one for the day so let me take this stuff to the laundry bucket and I’ll be right back.” As you walked away, you turned back. “Should I bring anything? I can borrow a pistol or-” 

Arthur laughed, “You don’t need nothin’ but the clothes on your back. I ain’t takin’ ya to a gunfight on your first job.” 

You pouted. “And why not? Don’t think I can run with the big boys yet?” 

He rolled his eyes, “maybe after you have a few lessons in shootin’ first. Don’t worry, you’ll get there one day. Now hurry on, or I’ll leave without ya!” 

The fear of being left behind put a skip in your step and you hurried away. He shook his head, he wouldn’t leave you even if you took all day. 

When you got done dropping off the sheets and towels, you quickly changed from your work clothes into your day clothes. When you emerged from your tent, Arthur was at the hitching posts- both horses already saddled up and ready to go. 

“We not riding together?” You asked. 

“Not today,” he said as he tightened the saddle on Mac. “We’re both gonna need our horses for this one.” 

As thankful as you were for Arthur buying your horse you had to admit you missed the closeness of riding with him. 

Arthur watched carefully as you mounted your horse with ease, for some reason he still expected you to need his help- or maybe he just wanted you to need his help. He took the lead into Valentine and you rode beside him. 

“So, what are we doing today?” 

“Sheep rustlin’.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sheep rustlin’. There’s gonna be an auction for livestock today so we’re gonna scare of the herders, collect the sheep, and take ‘em in to collect the cash.”

You groaned. “That’s it? C’mon Arthur can’t we do something a little funner for my first job?” 

He rolled his eyes again. “Like I said, I ain’t throwin’ ya into a gunfight on your first job. We all start somewhere, you do good on this and I’ll start bringin’ ya with me on more jobs. Maybe even get ya started on those shootin’ lessons, that is if yer still interested.” 

“Of course I am!” You sighed. “I guess you’re right. How was your fishing trip with Jack? I wish I could’ve came with you guys.” 

“It was...okay. You didn’t miss much.” His tone hitched and his facial expression changed just slightly.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it was just a run of the mill fishin’ trip. Well I fished, Jack made a necklace a daisies for Abigail.” 

You smiled, “sounds like me as a kid, I was never quite patient enough.”

“I ain’t too good at it neither, Hosea though- he can fish almost as well as he can scam. He tried teachin’ me when I was young, guess it never really stuck.”

“Ya know, I really like Hosea. He’s been so kind to me since I got here.” You smiled fondly. “He was the first one to really bring me in ya know? Besides you of course.”

Your soft smile was contagious as Arthur could feel his lips curling upwards. “Hosea is a great man, been like a father to me for damn near long as I can remember. He’s always been like that- genuine. I wish you coulda met Bessie, his wife. There ain’t never been a kinder woman on this earth.” When his eyes fell back to you his lips formed a smirk. “Maybe I can convince Hosea to take us out fishin’ one day. See if even ol’ Dutch can tag along. If anything those two geezers can catch all the fish and we can sit back and relax.”

You giggled, Arthur noticed the pink behind your cheeks when you looked at him, he tried not to read into it- it was a warm day after all. “That sounds wonderful Arthur.” You paused for a moment. “I enjoy our time together.”

He studied your face for a moment, almost expecting you to laugh like you had made a joke he didn’t understand. When you held your gaze on him he realized you were being genuine. He scratched his chin self consciously, hoping his flush was covered by his facial hair. “Well good to know I ain’t a bother to ya.” He cleared his throat and pointed up ahead. “Here we are, and I believe I see ol’ scar face right where he said he’d be.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.” The two of you rode up the the post office and hitched you horses. “Oh, and Arthur?” You said as you dismounted your horse.

“Yeah?”

You gently placed your hand between his shoulders. “You’re never a bother to me, never will be.”

Your words stopped him in his tracks and he had to remind himself how to walk before you noticed how effortlessly you had thrown a wrench in his cogs. Words that were delivered so thoughtlessly, touches that were so casual to you held an immense weight in his core. In that instant you had relieved a fear he had never shown to you. Did you know what your words meant to him, did you know how every little touch made his skin tingle and his neck hot? You were walking ahead of him now, your shoulders square- confident, strong. You were already gaining muscle mass, your arms were toned and- he could feel his face grow hot as he took note- even your glutes were more toned, the pants you were wearing were also very flattering. As you passed under the auction sign, the sun hit you perfectly as you tilted your hat to cover your eyes. The moment was perfect, he studied your thoroughly as you approached John. Arthur hoped this wouldn’t take too long- he didn’t want to forget the details of this moment to document in his journal.

-

The sheep rustling was much funner than you expected, although there wasn’t as much money in the job as John had hoped. Arthur shook his head and spit on the ground and the three of you walked together to the small saloon. Arthur’s knuckle bumped yours and when you turned to him, he was smiling down at you from under his hat. “First job weren’t so borin’ now was it?”

“It wasn’t,” you returned his smile. “I actually had fun today.”

“I’m glad,” he paused to hold the door of the saloon for you and John. “Maybe here in the next coupla days we can work something else together.”

You nodded, “sounds like a plan.”

His eyes followed you as you entered the threshold and took a seat beside John, leaving the seat between you and Dutch for him. Herr Strauss was there as well, between Dutch and John. Arthur made a pitstop at the bar and ordered shots for everyone. He listened to Dutch as he waited for the liquor, but his eyes kept trailing back to you. You had borrowed one of Hosea’s old hand me down hats and it seemed to fit perfectly- the brim just barely covered your eyes but he could still see that smile. The bartender cleared his throat. “Your drinks, sir.”

“Oh, Sorry.” He laid the money on the table and grabbed two shots. Your attention had been caught by the bartender, before he could say anything you were beside him grabbing the other three. You didn’t even give him a chance to argue before giving him a wink and returning the the table. Arthur followed, still smiling.

As you handed Dutch and Strauss their shots, Arthur sat John’s down in front of him and joined the rest of the group.

“And what kind of trouble have you all been gettin’ into?” Dutch asked pointedly.

“John’s thing,” Arthur said almost defensively, “just some sheep rustlin’.”

“Ah,” Dutch knocked back his shot.” “Leopald, why don’t you and Mr. Marston go see about collectin’ then.”

The two nodded and were out the door. Dutch ordered another shot. “How was the first day on the job, think you’ll enjoy ridin’ with this gang a low lives?”

“It went great! I think I’ll enjoy myself here just fine, that is as long as you’ll have me Mr. Van Der Linde.”

He scoffed, “as long as you keep my neck from killin’ me and keep Mr. Morgan over here outta trouble I don’t think you’ll have ta worry about gettin’ left behind.” The bartender set the shot down in front of Dutch and he raised it to toast, “to our newest family member, and to Arthur for bringin’ her our way.”

“Cheers!” You exclaimed as you clang your glasses together and knocked back the shot glass.

When the shot glasses hit the table, there was a loud bang! Your hand shot to your chest as a surprised yelp espcaped your throat. “Van Der Linde!” A strange voice bellowed from outside. “Get out here right now, Van Der Linde.”

“What the hell,” Dutch murmured as he rose slowly, his hand inching towards the revolver holstered to his side. Arthur was rising as well, one arm stuck in front of you protectively.

“You don’t know me, but you keep robbin’ me! My name is Leviticus Cornwall, I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you.”

“The Leviticus Cornwall? As in Cornwall Tower Cornwall?” You whispered.

Arthur shushed you quickly as he leaned against the window and peaked out.

“Get out here, before I have these men killed!”

When you peaked out the window, to your horror John and Strauss were captured with guns pointed at each of their heads.

“What do you think we should do?” Dutch whispered.

Arthur’s eyes were moving feverishly, as if he were running a million different scenarios at once. “I dunno... Y/N, you slide out the back on my signal. Take this and shoot any bastard that comes near ya.” He slid a pistol across the floorboard, when you picked it up your hands were shaking. “Dutch? You spin the yarn a little, and when I think it’s time I’ll make the move.” He turned back to you. “Right before it gets ugly, you need to book it the hell out that back door. I’ll tell you when, but when I do you need to move as fast as you can, you hear me?” His tone was calm, but you could see the fear in his eyes. You nodded and tried to wear a brave face.

Dutch slowly moved out the threshold, hands in the air and Arthur fell in behind him. He threw you a final glance before facing the men outside.

“Gentlemen,” Dutch said slowly. “This is a terrible mistake. This is a case of mistaken identity, what is worse than admonishing a man for the sins of another?”

Just then, Arthur’s fingers twitched and his head only moved slightly to face you: this was his signal. Just as you started moving, guns were firing behind you. You could hear screaming and shouting, chaos filled the small town of Valentine in an instant. Just as you came around the corner, heavy hands caught you. When you faced them, it wasn’t the hands of Arthur or Dutch. His hands wrapped around your neck, his huge hands were choking you hard, your fingers clawed at him desperately as you choked and gurgled. You tried to use your voice, scream for God’s sake, but his grip was too tight all you could do was cough. The gun Arthur had given you was on the ground at your feet and you were starting to see spots.

Two gunshots, and you were free. You fell to the ground and wheezed for air, it stung your throat as your nostrils flared. Hands were on you again, this time they were gentle on your shoulders. “You okay?” Arthur asked. His eyes were all over you, looking for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine,” you coughed.

He helped you to your feet quickly and handed you the gun. His arm looped around your waist and he half dragged you to a wagon where Strauss was holding his leg and crying in pain. Arthur helped you up and when he turned to leave you grabbed his hand. “Arthur,” You whimpered.

“It’s okay,” His voice was soft. “You’ll be alright.”

More gunshots and he was gone from grip. The wagon was moving slowly now, Arthur taking cover behind it. You cowered with Strauss as he held his leg, but as the wagon went through town you saw what was left in the wake of the dangerous men you traveled with. Bodies were scattered everywhere, blood splattered on the walls of buildings, one of Arthur’s bullets struck a man in the head and you saw the bullet come out the other side. “Christ,” You whispered as your stomach flipped.

The smell was horrendous. You had always heard that bowels release at time of death, but it was never something you really expected. The air was thick with the smell of piss and shit, mixed with blood and gun powder. The wagon came to a stop in front of the butcher’s table and Dutch quickly unloaded Strauss onto his horse. Arthur was still holding off lawmen and Cornwall’s goons when Dutch mounted his horse. “I’ve got Strauss, you get Y/N and get the hell out of here!”

There were just a few men left now, and Arthur took them out with ease. He turned to the wagon and his stomach dropped. Your face was full of fear, he thought you looked like a fawn in the face of a pack of wolves. When you raised the gun, he put his hands up submissively. “Hey now, it’s just me I ain’t gonna hurt-“

You pulled the trigger and the man standing behind Arthur fell. He jumped out of the way quite quickly, but relief flooded him when he saw your target, dead as a door nail. He stepped around the body easily and took your shaking hand to pull you out of the wagon.

Your legs felt like jello and you had to look at the ground to make sure you were standing right. When you did, your eyes fell on the man you had just killed. Your bullet hit him right beside his right eye, the pressure had forced the eye right out of its socket and his face was red with blood. Your stomach churned. “Oh Christ,” your knees buckled. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Arthur’s hands caught you and he led you to his horse. “Not right here ya ain’t, we got to go.”

He had to almost push you up the saddle and he wrapped his arms around you quickly. The horse took off, you could hear the shots being fired behind you, a few bullets wizzed by but none could catch Arthur.

His mind was racing a mile a minute. He knew they’d have to pack up and find a new spot when he was confronted by those Pinkerton men, but now there was no question. But where would they go? What would they do? Dutch would have a plan. Dutch always has a plan. He cut through the trees with finesse and though he was certain he had lost all pursuers, he wanted to be sure that they were safe.

Now the adrenaline was wearing off and the images kept flooding to the forefront of your mind. The blood on the walls, bone fragments in the dirt, brain bits flying in the air as the bullet passed clean through a man’s head. And then, the feeling of pulling the trigger, everything went slow motion and in your mind you could see the bullet entering his skull, pushing the eye out, and his soul leaving his body. Your stomach wrenched as tears pricked your eyes. “Arthur,” you whispered.

“We’re almost there darlin’-“

“Arthur please!” Your voice was shrill and he yanked the reins to bring the horse to a stop. As the horse slowed, you didn’t even give it a chance to stop before you were slipping off. As soon as you hit the ground, bile rose from your stomach and forced itself out onto the grass. You couldn’t hold back your tears now, as you sobbed and emptied your stomach.

Arthur didn’t even hitch the horse before he was by your side holding your hair. “It’s okay,” He cooed. “Yer okay now.”

“But- hes- not-“ you choked between sobs.

“Who, Strauss? He’ll be fine he ju-“

“No,” you moaned. “The- Man- I - shot.” You sniffled. “He probably- had a family- and he was just- doing his job.” You paused for a moment and Arthur wrapped his jacket around you. You caught Arthur’s hand and clung to it. “He was- gonna hurt- you- and I-“ a rough shiver ran down your body. “Arthur I don’t know what- what I’d do if- if-“ another sob rocked through you.

Arthur sighed shakily as he looked at your hand around his, your grip was tight but he wasn’t about to let go. “I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him through tears. “For what?”

“Fer gettin’ you inta this mess!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “For puttin’ you in danger,” he sighed. “For makin’ you kill for me.” He sat down beside you and wrapped his arms around you. “You shoulda never been in the middla all this mess. I’m sorry.” He whispered.

You buried your head in his chest and cried- because that’s all you could do at the moment. And he held you tight, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed- because that’s all he could think to do. Guilt flooded him as you shook in his arms. He had revealed the monster he was today- the monster he never wanted you to see. In doing so he also put you in danger, he was the one who spiked your hands today and he would never allowed himself to forget.

With your arms wrapped around him tight and your face in his chest, Arthur imagined this scenario much differently. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was keeping you safe, and making you feel better. He had no idea what to say- he was never good at talking about his emotions, but he knew the pain you were experiencing, his first kill still haunts his dreams every night. And if anyone knew that there was nothing to say right now, it was him. After his first kill, he hid. He hid away in a back alley and cried, but no one was there to hold him. Even if he had to stay out here all night he would stay- stay here and hold you until the seizing in your chest stopped and the tears were dried.

The comfort and warmth of Arthur holding you calmed you quickly. His big strong arms looped around you and his lips occasionally brushed your hair as he whispered, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be alright. You’re doin’ just fine honey. Don’t you worry. I know, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Over and over again. Slowly, your breathing evened out, but the tears were still falling.

Arthur noticed your sobs had turned into light crying, but his grip never loosened. His face was so close to yours now, but he remained focused. “How ya holdin’ up there, darlin’?”

You sniffled and shifted your head to the side. “I’m sorry Arthur.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “What in the world do you have to be sorry for?”

You groaned and wiped a tear from your eye. “All this, you must think I’m the biggest baby, losin’ my mind like this.”

He sighed. “Killin’ people ain’t easy. Ain’t never been for anybody, and anyone who claims otherwise is a liar.” He took your shoulders firmly and pulled you to look him in the eye. “I don’t think nothin’ bad of you for today. You saw a lot a gore and did something most people don’t have the nerve to do. Everybody has gone through this. I went through this, hell even Dutch! You’re gonna be fine,” he cleared his throat, you could see his face turning red. “And uh, I’ll always be here for ya, as long as ya need me.”

With a final sniffle and a wipe of the eyes, your nerves were calmed. Your arms were around his neck again, and he held you there tightly. His face buried into your hair and he took in your scent, he wondered if it was possible to get drunk on smells because yours was intoxicating. In his mind he saw a vision, here and gone in a trace: a vision of his lips on yours. This was what brought him back to reality. He sighed as he reluctantly let you go. “You ready to head back?” He whispered.

When you looked up at him all traces of tears were gone, the only thing left was the flush across your cheeks. His arms felt so good around you, it ached your bones to have them leave. You nodded and gave him a small smile. When he helped you up, his hand found the small of your back and stayed there as he walked you to the horse. He lifted you by the waist onto the horse, you had no objections- with every touch you were left yearning for more.

When Arthur mounted the horse, you leaned back against him and sighed heavily. He wasn’t as nervous as he used to be, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t holding onto a shaky breath as he looped an arm around your waist and held you tight. You responded by relaxing into his touch and it made his heart flutter. With the spare hand he gave a lax snap of the reins, his horse bolted off into the now growing night.

Arthur’s mind was reeling, repeating every touch and blush you had exchanged and it was getting harder and harder to brush off. When he peeked a glance at your face, his mind threw the image of his lips on yours at him again and his throat suddenly felt tight. No, he couldn’t do this. Even if he wasn’t imagining every sweet glance and overthinking every small touch he couldn’t allow himself to fall for someone again, especially you. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he tried hard enough he could keep you from the side of him he hates, keep you from seeing the killer in him. But instead, he just made a killer of you. Shame was weighing heavy on his shoulders, how could he do this to another person? The thought of you sobbing and vomiting in the grass returned to the forefront of his mind and his face contorted with guilt and sadness. Would you even want anything to do with him after this? He doubted it, surely he ruined you and all interest that may have been budding today. He decided then and there, he was not going to allow himself to fall for you- no more than he already had. You didn’t deserve the misery that he comes with, you deserved better. Arthur frowned, he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve to hold you, you deserved a man who could support you and make you happy. All he thought he could bring you was misery.

When the two of you arrived, most of the camp had already been packed up. Your horse had made it back to camp much to your relief. Arthur helped you down from his horse, “so much for no gun fights on the first job.” You joked weakly.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his neck “guess not everything goes to plan.” He lowered his voice. “You sure you’re still okay?”

When you smiled, Arthur wasn’t convinced it was genuine. “I’m fine, really.” A pause, then you looked up at him, this time he was certain you were blushing. “But I would appreciate your company if you have the time to talk me back to my tent.”

He chewed his lip for a moment, briefly debating. But he extended his arm, what harm would a walk do? You looped yours with his happily and the two of you strolled to your tent.

“Thank you Arthur, for everything.” You said meekly.

He had left his hat on his horse, which he was sorely regretting as he had no cover for his face when it turned bright red. He tried to turn his face downwards and scratched his temple. “It weren’t nothin’, I know you’d do the same for me.”

“You’re right,” you placed a small kiss on his cheek; you tried to ignore how his body tensed. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You too.” He watched as you disappeared behind the flaps of your tent. As he walked away he gently caressed his cheek where you kissed him. He was in deeper than he thought he was and it frightened him.

[spockandawe]

windblade and or chromia?

Awright! I’m catching up on a few more of these before I pass out for the night (work has been kicking my ass), but I haven’t forgotten these are here, and heck, if anyone still wants to send in other asks, this is exactly the kind of character noodling I love to do.

I already hit windblade, so! Chromia!

First impression: Hahaha, not much. Like Windblade, she was a casualty of Dark Cybertron writing. And because IDW was my first real introduction to transformers, I had no idea at all she was a legacy until forever later, so there wasn’t anything to get my attention at the time.

Impression now: Oooh, this is a complicated one. So, I’m in a weird spot where I really love who she is, but I’ve got real trouble getting attached to her emotionally, which is weird, because she hits LOTS of my favorite things, but... here I am. More than anything, I love how ruthless she can be. The Windblade miniseries was where she got my attention, and that was some choice character material. I love it when Windblade is calculating about things, but Chromia took an extra sharp, mercenary approach to the situation that’s a lot more like how Starscream would classically take control of a situation than how Windblade would. And I love the push and pull between her trying to do what’s best for Windblade versus her own wants and needs. And then I really love that the story touched on the aftermath of her setting off the bomb, where autobots/decepticons? They’re used to casual killing. Chromia is plenty aggressive and ready to fight, but the emotional impact of following through in that way has a much different scope when you’re not coming into the situation after millions of years of total war, and I love the nuance of her emotional response to it all and how that’s also used to control her. It’s a fascinating dynamic and her character is so interesting.

Favorite moment: Mm. Hmmm. This feels a little like cheating because it’s feeding off my emotions for another character, but the moment when she panics Waspinator and he tries to bolt, and she tackles and pins him. The backstory for both of them gives layers of emotional context for the scene that’s not necessarily easy to discuss in a post like this, but it’s wonderful material to think through and turn over in my head on my own.

Idea for a story; Arcee/Chromia. I want to take these two ladies who have a lot of similar characteristics, where they’re both often blunt, impatient, quick to anger, and prone to violence, but where their backstories are so dramatically different, and make them smooch. Arcee is so old, so jaded, so experienced, and very used to holding herself detached from the world. Chromia feels very young, she’s very naive in some ways, and being an ‘experienced’ warrior on caminus is nothing compared to what cybertron has been through. My trouble is that if I knew what the story was about (just the ship isn’t enough for me to sink my teeth into) I’d be able to write their dynamic pretty easily, but I don’t know... what the story would be about :T

Unpopular opinion: ...................i’m not a big fan of chromblade :X At least as flushrom. I’ve seen it done well, and I get why people like it, but... I don’t know. I think part of it is that when a relationship is old and established and comfortable, it doesn’t have the negotiating-new-territory ground for me to play in. Part of it is that given canon, I’d want to pick my way through all the post-bomb territory to make myself believe it at a gut level, but that’s so much to cover that I’m never going to actually do it. And I kind of like the baggage of unintentionally poisoned relationships, where neither person wanted it to fall apart, but it still hangs over them and hurts them ages later, a la cdprowl. I don’t have many characters where canon prepackages that scenario for me, so I’m reluctant to smooth away this one. It’s not quite a complete explanation, because I still like palerom/amica chromblade just fine, and I don’t know why that’s different, but flushrom just won’t click for me.

Favorite relationship: Just to be contrary, I’m going to say Ironhide. It was going to be arcee in one answer and ironhide in the other, so he goes here. I know they only shared a few scenes because nudge nudge wink wink remember how they were dating in the eighties??? But I’m also ABSOLUTELY FASCINATED by the emotional potential of them getting close to each other. Some of it is similar to the arcee thing, where I want to ship someone young, naive, and energetic with someone who’s exhausted, burned-out, and running on autopilot. But the parallels in how both of them have fucked up!! Ironhide got angry, acted impulsively, and nearly beat Mirage to death. Chromia decided to manipulate Windblade into leaving cybertron, and ended up killing several bystanders and hurting Windblade pretty badly too. They both pull up afterwards, horrified, but the consequences don’t just go away. And whether it’s platonic or romantic, I want.... I’d love to see something where she helps spark him into engaging with life a little more (especially at the time when he spends most of his time wandering inside metroplex) and he helps slow her down a little so that things don’t feel quite so urgent that they need immediate, drastic action. This is a dynamic I’d prefer to write instead of trying to describe, because it would be a very delicate balance, so it’s not just the eighties obligatory het cliche romance, but... yes. I want to see it explored.

Favorite headcanon: That while she ran off looking for Liege Maximo, she hooked up with Arcee, and then hooked up with Arcee :V I would have died happy if that had genuinely taken place in canon, but it fits so perfectly in my heart that I’m just going to act like it’s canon anyways

[orokinarchives]

Legs Dialogue

(Fortuna hype image)

Legs is a Solaris merchant who builds Moa companions in Fortuna. Initially, Legs is known as Thursby, a young adult who inherited his parents' substantial debt after they were killed in the Deck 12 crackdown. With no upgrades and no assets, Thursby attempted to sell scrap to get by. During the Vox Solaris quest, when he enlisted the Tenno to help him by stealing goods from the Corpus, Nef Anyo had him bodily repossessed in retaliation. This event spurred Eudico to light the fires of Vox Solaris once again, and in the aftermath, she and The Business set Thursby up with a new body – built from plundered Moa parts – and a new shop, where he sells Moa parts and assembles them into battle companions. With his new form came a new name which he chose to better advertise his shop – Legs of Legs' Pets & Parts.

Idle quotes

These are un-subtitled lines that Legs says when he is not interacting with anyone.

"Hey yeah! Need to equip your trip with companionship? Talk to Legs, baby, the knowa' and showa' of primo Moa."

"Pets at impress design express, your request for the best has been addressed."

"Every bod a workhorse, reinforce supports endorsed, does all it purports, of course, leaving no cause for buyer's remorse. WE GOT PETS!"

Greeting the Tenno

(if the Tenno has just completed the Vox Solaris quest) "What? Don't recognise me? It's Thursby! Look what Biz and Eudico put together. Top-shelf parts. Not just that, Biz gave me enough spare stock to start my own shop. Legs' Pets & Parts. That's my new name: Legs. Don't call me Thursby no more. I got a new body, new store, new hook, new name. Come back anytime, and Legs'll build you a Moa just for you."

"If your ambition is the acquisition of a new addition, I'm just the patrician to hear your submission. Pets? Moas? We've got 'em all."

"Step on up, quick-like and snappy. I pay off some debt, you walk away happy. Now whaddya need? Moas? We've got Moas. Right!"

"Look around. Now, don't be shy. Good friends, good buddy, ain't hard to buy."

(if the Tenno has just reached the rank Old Mate) "You seem ace, so here's my face. But understand; I just got lucky, and I think you're beautiful just as you are."

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "Well hey! It's the familiar killer to whom I love to deliver. Tell me the good news, sweets."

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "Well! I do delight in the sight of fave-o-RITE. How are you doing, friend?"

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "Lookee before me, who's this that I see? The Outworlder! Buddy! Long time absentee! HOW ARE YA BABY?”

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "Why's Smokefinger always gotta be ridin' me? 'Wastin' my youth'. Better wastin' my youth hangin' out with my awesome robots than talkin' to dirt. Whatever. What can I getcha?"

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "I keep tryin' to get Biz to tell me stories, but nothin'. That cove was a real doer back in the day. Eudico'd say 'Give 'em The Business' and then things'd get real hectic."

(if the Tenno is rank Old Mate) "My family didn't make it out the first time Solaris U got stomped. Aw, I know Eudico reckons it's her fault, but I don't see it thataway. She's done right by me. Way I see it, she and Zuud? They're my family now. Need anything?"

Assembling a Moa if the Tenno has no Moa parts

"I ain't part of what you might call… a legitimised supply chain. But! Bring in your own gear – heads, engines, payloads – and I'll put together a little buddy for ya quick smart, no questions asked."

"I work with salvage. Bring in heads, engines, payloads, and I'm your mucker."

"Can't work with what I don't have, cove. Gonna need some parts before we have this conversation."

Selecting a Moa part

"Okay, okay. I see where you're goin'."

"I like it."

"Nice."

If the Tenno idles while selecting Moa parts

"This is my favourite part, y'know. The parts get chosen, and a little fella gets born from it all. It's all down to you."

"People say Moas don't got no personality, but it's all in choosing the right components. You take your time."

"I'd offer you a nutrient canister, but you don't look like you're hooked up for it, and I'm all out."

"Need any help with that?"

"Just one more piece and I can get to work."

"Last piece. Big moment. Drum roll!"

Assembling a Moa

"Hello beautiful. Nicely put together if I do say so myself."

"There y'go, little fella. On your feet."

"And that… is that."

Exiting store with purchase

"Here's your manual and bot, so full of potential, instructions for use, you'll find them essential. Use it well, this device, g'wan an' have fun. But do check the fine print: there ain't no refunds."

"Golden."

"Aaaaand your change."

Exiting store without purchase

"Just here for the show?"

"Nooo sale. Right. It was the rhyming, wasn't it?"

"Well, I'm also available for parties."

Viewing Legs' daily special

"Ya wanted a Moa since you were protozoa, mechanical friend, fides that are bona. Wait no more, cove, my gear's all class, it's the daily special! I only take cash."

"A sleek little freak, take a peek, step on up, critique this physique! Hand-made, hand-designed, one of a kind. For today only. Seriously chic."

"Ya know ya want it, this revel's on the level. Bust open that wallet, it's a one-time special!"

Gilding a Moa

"Something this beautiful shouldn't be walkin' around without a name. Anything spring to mind?"

"So. She got a name?"

"I always like to name 'em. You should name her. What's her name?"

Confirming the name of a Moa

"Sure, why not."

"Welcome to the world, kiddo."

"Does kinda complete her, don't it?"

Skipping the naming of a Moa after gilding

"Free to be her own thing. Awright."

"Yeah. She is what she is."

"A thing unto herself. Sounds like somethin' The Business would say."

Bidding farewell

"And just like that, they were gone."

"See ya later, agitator."

"New items daily! Or as often as Boon can steal them."

"Cheerio."

"I think that went well."

"Right, now where did I put that bucket of spare ankles."

Legs' story is also told in the memory fragments scattered around the Orb Vallis. He is mentioned in the dialogue of Eudico, The Business, Smokefinger, and Roky & Boon, and in the lore fragments of Eudico and The Business.

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