#i know they've all out their foot in their mouths on occasion but I don't think there was any Mass Cancellation or Exodus

[six-of-ravens]

every so often I come on here and see another unhinged theory as to why the mcelroys fell out of fashion and like. wow y'all try so hard to not blame travis for things that you circle back around to....blaming travis for things.

[caesarinsalata]

Part 3!

I know the visuals are mostly Ed, but I just couldn't make something that included them all. Oh well 🤣🤷🏽‍♂️

Just in case you haven't read the beginning on it yet. You can find it here 🥰

[Achaemenid: Prologue:]

PART 3

A Month or So Later

It's been quite a while since Al and Winry could even see Ed. They were starting to believe they might not get the chance to, so they were going to take this opportunity and sneak in to see him. Al was getting antsy not knowing the condition of his brother for such a long time. Winry was determined to help him, despite her also being a little worried for Ed.

They've been keeping a close eye on the rotation of the specialists’ shifts in and out of Ed's room. They took turns sneaking around corners and waving each other on. Hiding behind curtains and tables whenever someone walked by or out of the rooms.

“The coast is clear, Al. Go!” Winry hisses, waving him on. He shimmies quickly through the curtain and holds it open for her, ushering her in. She slips in and almost loses her footing given how dark the room is, save for candle light. She supposes they've been wanting him to sleep it off.

What she could see of the room, Ed and Al's beds had been pushed together to give Ed room to stretch. There were extra tables the specialists had brought in. She didn't know what was in the bottles and sachets of herb mixtures. That wasn't her focus anyway, they didn't have much time to see Ed before someone would be on their way back in.

“Winry, let's hurry before someone catches us…”

Winry nodded, not knowing if Al could even see it. She looked to the bed in the center of the room. The candle illuminated Ed's sleeping face. He didn't look too good. He wasn't sickly, he just seemed to be having a bad dream. As she stepped closer, he turned his head and groaned, gripping the sheets. She looked him over, his ailment was outside the sheets for easy access. She covered her mouth.

“What's wrong? Is he okay? Oh my goodness….” Al did the same now that they were staring down the space where a leg should've been.

The bandages are still a little red at the base. Most likely from Ed struggling on more than one occasion, he still hasn't healed fully. Winry looked back up at Ed's face. His breath was shaky, still having difficulty staying still.

Al reached to touch Ed's upper thigh, wanting to make sure it was real, but Winry gripped his wrist and shook her head.

“Don't touch it.”

“But-?”

“It might wake him up. It's not a good idea.”

Al whined quietly, deciding to just touch Ed's shoulder. That was at least better than touching him elsewhere.

Ed stirred, his sudden gasp of pain made the other two jump.

“E-Ed?” Al looked as if he was going to cry again.

That had apparently woken him up or at least enough for Ed to take a deep breath and barely open his eyes. He looked as if he were drugged. He could barely make out who was next to him right now.

“Al-?”

“Brother! Yes, I'm here! I'm so glad you're okay!”

“Hey, Ed…how are you feeling?”

Ed didn't fully register anything they said at all. He just squeezed whoever's hand was holding his.

“I-I’ve been better….I think… Where have you two been?”

“They won't let us in…”

“It's been almost three fortnights.”

“Uuuugh…” Ed winces. “How long does it take to heal a severed leg?” Blinking, Ed's face looked a bit sad. “I can't believe that son of a bitch cut my damn leg off…”

Al and Winry both smiled just a little. Glad this whole endeavor didn't totally ruin Edward.

To their surprise, Ed reached for Al's hand and pulled Winry's closer to him and touched them together, bringing them to his chest. Sighing he seemed to be able to ignore the numb pulsing in his stump.

“You should go…”

“But brother-!”

“Al…” Ed managed to open his eyes wider. The candle flame reflected in his eyes and made the gold hues in them dance. “I don't want you two to see me like this…and you'll just get in trouble if you keep sneaking in…Although…” He brought their hands to his lips and just held them there. “I appreciate it…”

Winry couldn't help but blush a little at the sentiment. She knew they had him on something that was still in his system to make him so calm, but this was not like him.

“We…we just had to make sure you were still alive…” Al cut into Winry's thoughts.

Edward chuckled a little, but winced and let go of their hands to grip his thigh. Before responding he had to take a moment. “Like you didn't know already…” Fully aware of how much he's been tiring himself out from all the screaming and kicking. He glared at the ceiling, gritting his teeth. “I'm not meant to sit still…”

“We know Ed…”

“Especially when that….monster…is still sitting on the throne…”

“Ed, what could you do? We're kids!”

“Not to mention, we're powerless. We may know a little bit of alchemy, but we're still under the King's rule. He'd have us killed!”

Edward smiled. “What makes you think I would ever put you two in harm's way like that?”

Al frowned. “You're not doing this alone, brother! Father is already gathering the resistance in secret to overthrow the King.”

Edward blinked. “He what? He's actually going to rebel against the King when he's been licking his shoes for years?”

“I think what happened here is what drove him to take such measures, Ed…” Winry absentmindedly pointed at Ed’s missing leg.

Ed just sighed, “Took him long enough…”

Just then, Ed's eyes shot open. Digging his nails into the side of his thigh, he grunted and growled through his teeth. “Why does it wear off so fast?!”

“Brother!”

“Hey! What are you two doing here?!” A specialist bursted through the doorway.

“Get out! He needs to relax. You'll just stress him out!”

“We wouldn't have to sneak in if you'd just let us see him!” Al actually raised his voice and Winry was amazed.

“Al! Win! J-Just go!” Edward was starting to work up a sweat and panting from the onslaught of pain.

They didn't want to leave him with the mean Specialist, but they had to keep his recovery in mind. They made sure to glare at the man before walking out.

“At least he's….okay?”

Winry crossed her arms. “Yeah….for now.” Then placing her hands on her hips. “But I think I know how to make Ed’s life much easier in the future…”

[difeisheng]

i.

It's only on the third day of passing neverending yellow-green fields wavering in summer heat, windows down in this pickup truck that must be decades old with its glossy paint and chrome and proud growl of an engine, that Wu Xie finally asks Hei Xiazi where they're going.

"There's a map in the glove compartment," Hei Xiazi says, tapping cigarette ash out into the wind, other hand on the steering wheel. "You said your English is good, right? Read it and find the towns we've been through."

Wu Xie fishes out the map, tattered and deeply creased, apparently kept without use. A pen is always with him; he circles each town or city whose name he recognizes, memorized from the flickering signs of motels or general stores they've stopped at, or welcoming boards along the highways that are probably intended to be cheerful but only bear worn-down facades of optimism in their neglect. Analysis kicks in next, attempting to piece together the logic from the locations he's marked. The pattern he finds is—

"There is no pattern." Wu Xie looks up. "We drove east after going south, but you're just stopping in random places."

"Congratulations, you get a prize," Hei Xiazi says, semi-deadpan, hair flown loose from its knot whipping into his face. "Can't have your future actions be predicted if you don't know what they are, either."

"But that means you don't know when we're going to stop," Wu Xie says. The wind bites at him all of a sudden, despite the temperature outside. He pulls his flannel more closely around himself.

Hei Xiazi, still wearing only a tank top, tan lines at his wrists fading out of contrast, shakes his head. "Keep moving and we'll figure out the rest later. We don't know how far behind they are."

"Do we really have to be this paranoid?"

"You haven't even been able to see your enemy, or what it is. Do you want the monsters to catch up to you, or would you rather be safe than sorry?" Hei Xiazi flicks his cigarette butt out the window.

Wu Xie thinks of the shadows, the closest way he can describe them, that he'd seen on the last night in his own home, and shuts his mouth. He settles instead for noisily stuffing the map back into the glove compartment.

"So if there's no end to this, why would you help me?" Hei Xiazi, as far as Wu Xie has gathered, is a man who's lived from job to job, whatever's in between not enough to keep him still. "I don't even know when I'll be able to pay you, if that's what you want." The money on his cards has been going toward gasoline, food, the motels they can find that are cheap but clean and won't care about faces or what's left of Wu Xie's accent before the fact that he can pay.

Hei Xiazi snorts. "You didn't think about this earlier?"

"I wasn't in the mood to be asking questions." And Hei Xiazi had told him not to, anyway, those few nights ago when Wu Xie woke up to half of his house in flames and something at his door, swallowing the light, and in the smoke had appeared Hei Xiazi, duffle bag in one hand and the other grabbing at Wu Xie's wrist, ordering him to run.

He'd bit his tongue, one of the rare occasions where fear had well and truly drowned his curiosity, and followed. From foot, to car, to across a border, and now to this truck.

Hei Xiazi reaches for the box of cigarettes in the cupholder. "Light me another one, will you?"

Wu Xie grabs the lighter from the inner pocket of Hei Xiazi's leather jacket, fallen to the floor, and touches it to a fresh cigarette. "You didn't answer my question."

Hei Xiazi just sighs, blowing thin smoke out and away, so Wu Xie continues: "You're just a work friend of my uncle's and you barely know me. Why would you care this much about saving me?"

"Know you?" Hei Xiazi leans back and laughs, softly, dog tags clinking against his chest. "Maybe I don't really know you, but I know about you. I know you're naive, and you've never had to pay the price for learning too much. I know you looked into secrets about your uncle's work that you shouldn't have. I know you still don't understand what you saw and you're desperate to find out, but you dread looking back. And most of all, I know you don't want to die. Is that enough?"

He glances at Wu Xie. "You don't want to die, do you, Xiao-sanye? Tell me now, because it'll save me a lot of trouble if this isn't something you want to fight for."

"I-" Wu Xie stares at him. "No, I don't want to die," he says, quietly.

"Good." Hei Xiazi jabs at the volume dial on the dash. Rock music blares out from the speakers, from whichever cassette was left in there from the box of tapes in the backseat. "Glad we're clear on that. Communication is key."

"For the third fucking time, why are you helping me?" Wu Xie reaches for the dial, turns the music off again, glares. This time Hei Xiazi doesn't react, staring ahead at the road, lined pavement flying past in the lenses of his sunglasses.

"If I said it was boredom, would you believe me?" he says, after a minute.

In this moment maybe Wu Xie almost could, listening to the level current of Hei Xiazi's voice. How old is he? If he were a stranger Wu Xie would place him in his mid-thirties, perhaps, but the impression of a man in black and sunglasses smeared across the borders of his memory reaches too far back for Hei Xiazi to be exactly as old as he looks.

At what age can you possibly begin to treat running for your life like this with indifference? With amusement? Wu Xie is twenty-six, and the world is huge. The world is mysterious. The world is fracturing and he's trying not to cut himself on the shards.

"No," he tells Hei Xiazi. "it can't just be boredom. But it's not money, either."

The corner of Hei Xiazi's mouth tilts upwards.

"You're smart." He pauses to take a drag from the cigarette. "Believe what I said anyway. You're better off like that."

"What's that supposed to me—" Wu Xie starts, before Hei Xiazi cuts him off, waving a hand dismissively.

"Believe that, or make up your own reasoning because I know you'll die without it. Either one will do." He adjusts his sunglasses in the rearview mirror. "But what matters, for you, is that you trust me to keep you alive regardless. Trust me completely, or else I won't be able to. Can you do that, Xiao-sanye?"

The evening Hei Xiazi tossed their bags into this truck, retrieved from a seemingly innocuous lot in an industrial suburb, Wu Xie caught a glimpse of the box concealed beneath the panels of the bed. If Hei Xiazi wanted him dead, he'd have had the tools and chances to do it at least several times over already.

Wu Xie nods.

Hei Xiazi smiles, wide enough to catch a glimpse of a crooked tooth, and turns the music on once more.

The road rambles on.

[sweettoothvn]

Ahem

Nobles nsfw alphabet when? *coughs*SHESSOFINEEEOHMYGOOOOOD*coughs*

PFFF??? Aight NSFW UNDER CUT

A = Noble tends to make sure you're clean and relaxed when you're finished. If you're sore she'll massage any part of you if need be. She wants to make sure you're taken care of and that you know your loved (especially if you're just as kinky as him and have an INTENSE session,,)

B = Noble's ears are particularly sensitive. Their favorite part of their partners would have to be the lower region, specifically love handles and butt. Noble loves the squish!

C = They're not one to spit that's for sure. They're definitely swallowing. One of their favorite things to do is back shots as well~

D = When in their gilvan form they don't mind if you pull their tail. Also they have a degradation kink.

E = A lot. Noble is pretty familiar with most body types as he does have a big body count. He's also familiar with dom and sub as he is a switch.

F = Anything close and intimate where he gets to see her S/O's face. So that would be mating press or missionary. However she does like doggy style on occasion.

G = He definitely gets into the mood. He'll play any part you want him to and make sure he's delivering it well.

H = Clean shaven

I = Will constantly compliment and assure you if you're insecure about something. He's very guiding too if you're not sure (for example giving head, he'll give advice)

J = Why are some of your clothes missing? Don't worry about it. Maybe you shouldn't let Noble do the laundry for a while though.

K = Dear god where do we start- okay. I'm probably gonna forget some. Degradation (on him), Sadomasochism, Shibari (both ways), Pegging (on him), Hair pulling (both ways), Wax play (both ways), Blood Play (both ways), Biting, Orgasm Denial (on S/O), Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Asphyxiation, Gagging, Humiliation, Servant (him being the servant), Exhibitionism, Prey/Predator (him being the predator), Non-Con (you have to have a deep discussion with him before this!), Experimentalist, he's into whatever you're into basically.

L = Kitchen :)

M = I dunno you breathing i guess, he's kind of horny all the time.

N = Ageplay, Scat, Vomit, Gore, Watersports, Foot fetish, Armpit fetish, certain aspects of food play (putting food inside other holes that aren't your mouth)

O = He prefers giving oral, hence why he got a tongue piercing. But he doesnt mind receiving head either

P = Without telling her what kind of pace you like (unless you're a virgin, she'll start slow then speed up) she's more on the aggressive side. However there will be a few days where she takes her time to admire you... and also watch you squirm.

Q = They don't mind quickies, if you ask they'll do it. They would just prefer to take their time with you. In private or not, they don't care-

R = Definitely into experimenting.

S = They can go a lot of rounds that's for sure, their stamina matching that as well.

T = He definitely has a lot of toys that's for sure. He usually just buys them while day dreaming about using them on his crush or S/O without knowing whether or not he'll actually use it.

U = Huge tease, however if you aren't in the mood for it she'll quickly back off.

V = Generally speaking, they're not too loud as they've perfected masturbating while staying quiet for uh... certain reasons.. but if you want them to be loud they'll oblige.

W = Will become extremely clingy after your first time with her

X = In human form she's got a few moles and stretch marks but in half-gilvan form she has numerous light markings on her sides, arms, stomach, face, and legs! Also, since Noble is intersex they have both male and female genitalia, however she is very flat chested. Also almost no ass.

Y = Their sex drive is too high, they need help

Z = It will take them a while to fall asleep after as they're so giddy from the experience. However if you go a bunch of rounds they'll pass out pretty fast.

[verifiefangirl]

For a Gwynriel prompt drabble thing...

What if they've been getting closer and closer as time goes on, like they know eachother better than anyone else does but nobody else realizes how close they actually are. Until one day something happens, like on of them gets hurt or has a panic attack, and the other goes all protective and are the only one who can comfort them. And everyone else is like, when did this happen?

Trigger warning: PTSD, anxiety, panic attack, SA

Gwyn had finally gotten the courage to attend a dinner at the High Lord and Lady's residence.

The champagne had started flowing as soon as she step foot through the threshold. Gwyn wasn't much of a drinker but she indulged herself for such a momentous occasion. The slight fizz and tang of the drink made her feel as light and airy as the bubbles floating up.

Every time the Shadowsingers eyes locked with hers across the room a zap would go through her and her whole body became very aware. She shot him a soft smile as he made his way over to her. He didn't ask if she was 'okay' or 'enjoying herself' like everyone else had so far but instead goaded her and she hadn't realised that was exactly what she needed at that moment as she had been holding her Champagne flute a little too tightly, nervous.

"Your stance is terrible for a warrior" His face was serious as always, but you could see the mischief twinkling behind those hazel eyes.

"My instructor wasn't very good." She dismissed. She watched as his lips twitched at the corner faintly and he struggled to keep his smile at bay. Her heart thumped so viciously. He looked like he was about the say more but Feyre’s twinkling voice cut through the chatter around the room.

"Dinner is ready. Cassian please wait till everyone is seated before shoving your big mouth with food." He kissed her cheek in response as he rushed over to the dining room. Gywn and Azriel still stood there smiling at each other as everyone around them made their way over.

"I'll make you eat those words in our next session, Berdara."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Shadowsinger. I heard Cassian say you could work on your hand-to-hand combat a bit more."

The stunned look on his face made her grin even wider as she brushed past him to join the others. The others didn't mark his late entrance or the fact he had to smooth his features back into neutrality as he entered.

Nesta motioned for her to take the free seat beside her but she couldn't help but notice the Spymaster sitting a few spots away with an empty chair next to him too. She hesitated and was graced from making a decision as Elain sat next to her sister. 

Gwyn made her way to the last remaining spot. Her cheeks burned a bright red as Azriel pulled her chair out and waited until she was settled before easing himself in. Rhys, who was sitting on the other side of her, went to fill up her glass with red wine and it was at the moment her eyes were drawn to the crimson runner on the wooden table. All the air felt like it had been knocked out of her chest as the blood drained from her face. 

God, no. Please not here, she thought as her hands started trembling violently. Her hips where pinned again with the bite of oak digging in to her. A heavy body, scalding her back as her night gown was rucked around her legs. Gwyns cheeks scrapped along the roughened texture as the tang of salt mixed with the taste of her despair. His abrasive movements inside her had her willing the mother to make it all stop. Her eyes fixated on the woven red runner, looking like the blood of the innocence spilling down her legs and-

“Gwyn?” Nesta’s voice prodded as she spiraled silently into herself. She didn’t know when warrioress had come to her side, worry lining her forehead. She stood abruptly, knocking the wine over. The sight of the red staining and pooling on the floor made that night and this setting blur together. The room was a kaleidoscope of colours and sound. Someone touched her arm and her body reacted, knocking them down and flipping them on their back.

“Please!” She bemoaned, clutching her head as her lungs tried to get air. Horrible, retching escaped deep from within her broken body. A babe wail filled the air, reminding her of all the children that didn’t get to escape their fate. 

“Gwyn.” A voice as deep as the bottom of the ocean called to her, pulling her to the surface. Warmth of the soil and cold of the ice blended together. It filled her eyeline. 

“Breathe.” She hadn’t realised that air still wasn’t reaching her inside. 

“Breathe.” The voice as smooth as water gilding through her fingers reminded her. He didn’t dare touch her yet. The sounds around overwhelmed her. The scents of meats and spices made her nauseous. 

“I’m going to take your hand, okay?” 

She thought she might have let out a nod as roughened fingers enlaced hers. Her vision swimming as he brought it to his chest. She still wasn’t getting enough air. The heat seeped through his tunic and spread through her numb fingers. His heartbeat was a steady thrum.

“Count.” He commanded. 

“One....two..” She croaked, weakly. “Three, four, five.” Each number coming with more ease than the next. 

“Ten, eleven, twelve.” The voice joined her and eventually things stopped being so out of focus. Her nails that had dug into his chest, loosened slightly. 

“You are the rock against which the surf crashes.” He rumbled. “Repeat it.” 

“I am...the rock...against which the surf crashes.” She hesitated. 

“Again.” 

“I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Her voice coming out more stronger this time. She didn’t know how much time passed as they kept repeating the exercise but when she came to, her head hurt, her body was limp and the Shadowsingers thumb was reaching up to brush away the tears that had spilled out her eyes. 

Embarrassment tided through her as she leaned heavily against Azriel. Their hands still entwined and laying across her lap. She focused on the blue siphons instead of the occupants currently gaping with surprise. 

“We need water.” Azriel snapped, darkness coated every word. 

“I’m fine.” You croaked at him, but he was not having it. The room suddenly fell into motion again, sounds echoing around them. You recognised the High Lords wedding band as he tried to hand you the glass only for Azriel to intercept before your fingers could brush. 

“I’ve got it.” He told his brother with his no nonsense attitude. Rhys seemed stunned at the curt manner or the situation being resolved by Azriel. She wasn’t quite sure. The water going down her throat was the reprieve she had needed. 

Her eyes tracked Rhys as he shared a look with someone over Azriel’s head. 

“Do you need anything else?” Mor came up to the other side of Azriel.

“Just give her a minute.” He huffed back. She didn’t even think he realised that his wings was lifting up higher and curving towards her. 

“Azriel, we aren’t going to hurt her.” It was Nesta gentle soothing that had his shoulders relaxing marginally. 

From the astounded expression ranging across everyone’s faces. She came to the realisation that Azriel didn’t do this often and that they hadn’t ever seen this side of him. It confused her since this was a side of him that she was well acquainted with. He was the rock which the surf crashes against.... 

[trixree]

When they finally catch up to this latest branch of the illegal exotic animal trade, they do so in a dingy warehouse nestled deep within the Lowers. It’s the cliche of all cliches—an enormous space that reeks of mildew and raw sewage, various incompetent goons playing sabacc atop upturned crates and smoking death-sticks, rusty doors that are so ancient they have literal hinges that squeal and shriek when touched.

What Hound couldn’t have predicted is the bird.

It’s not all that big compared to some of the other animals here. In fact, it’s actually pretty small—its body is about the size of a large grapefruit. It isn’t the most vibrant animal, either. There are all sorts of creatures in here, crammed into too-tiny cages, in all sorts of gaudy colorations, with fangs and without fangs, with wings and without wings, small and large, liable to eat a person and not. It’s just sort of… green, with a pale gray face and chest. And round. It’s so round and puffy.

As the rescue guys come in and start to catalog and care for the animals, Hound notices that the Commander is… lingering by the bird. They’re a bizarre mirror of each other, the bird’s little head tilted at the exact same angle as Fox’s.

“What’cha got there, Commander?” Hound says.

The little puffy bird opens its beak and says, plain if but a bit croaky, “44th and 12th!”

“It talks?” escapes Hound.

“44th and 12th! 19th, eh?” the bird replies.

“I think they’re cross-streets,” Fox says.

The bird makes a series of clicking sounds, picks up one clawed foot, and begins to nibble gently at its nails, apparently finished with them. It is the clearest dismissal Hound has ever seen. This is saying something, seeing as Hound works with the Commander every day and the man's only hobby is dismissing subordinates with apathy.

“You think it picked up information from these fuckos?” he indicates the goons that his squad is busy loading into the prison transport with a thumb jerked towards the open door.

In reply, Fox begins to fiddle with the lock on the bird’s cage. It isn't actually a reply at all, Foxy. Please stop that, Foxy. You don't know where this creature has been.

The creature stops its nail care, one foot still raised, to watch him attentively. When the metal door swings open, Fox holds up one gauntlet, palm down, and waits.

After a moment’s consideration, the bird takes one little hop and perches on Fox’s hand.

“Good girl,” Fox praises her. This is a momentous occasion, as Hound is fairly certain he has never heard anything even remotely close to praise escape Fox’s mouth. The closest they've come is Fox telling Sargeant Dogma, "You're alright." The Sargeant wept. Fox was repulsed. Since then, there has never been a repeat occasion.

“Uhh, Commander?” Hound tries, despairing as the bird climbs its way up Fox’s arm towards his shoulder bell, blunted little claws click-clacking against plastoid until she settles at Fox’s neck and resumes her preening.

“We’ll take her back to HQ and see if she can give us any more information,” Fox says. His tone brokers no questions.

Hound has questions.

“She?”

Fox’s deadpan stare can be felt through his bucket. He says, reaching up to scratch gently at the bird’s fluffy little cheeks, “I’m naming her Hound.”

________________________

Word of Hound spreads through the barracks like wildfire. Human-Hound, as everyone is now calling him, despairs.

It turns out that Hound the Lesser had heard a whole lot more than just cross-streets where deals were taking place. She has a broad vocabulary from names to addresses to a colorful array of curses in many languages. Some of these curses might come from Fox himself, who has not let Hound out of his sight since acquiring her.

Thorn claims that he saw Fox brushing his teeth with Hound curled up and sleeping in Fox’s pocket. Stone says that he saw Fox feeding her bites of his lunch: a single apple. Thire claims nothing but laughs loudly whenever Hound complains about his usurper.

If Hound didn’t care about animals so much—all animals, even terrible little name-stealing birds—he might be tempted to do some off-leash training with Grizzer right around Fox’s office. But alas, Hound could never, and so he resigns himself to his fate. And the worst part of it?

For some reason, the bird hates him.

Thorn had hypothesized that it was the teeth painted on Hound’s bucket that is so off-putting. But when Hound enters Fox’s office on this bright and sunny Coruscant morning, sans-bucket, a green projectile flies at his fucking face—

Hound ducks with a cry, clattering noisily into the doorframe.

Fox’s little demon screams an ear-shattering scream of avian triumph.

“Good girl, Hound,” Fox praises. He clicks his tongue and the demonic creature returns to him, perching on a little metal stand—that’s new; where the fuck did he get it?—on Fox’s desk. “Human-Hound," Fox greets him.

Cautiously, Hound straightens out of his defensive crouch against the door. “Commander,” he grouses. “Why did your beast attack me?”

Fox has not yet looked up from his datapad. Without pause or hesitation, he reaches into a drawer of his desk and produces what looks like some sort of nut. He passes this nut to Hound, who takes it daintily in one claw and transfers it to her beak. Staring at Hound, she cracks said nut open and begins to chew.

“Training,” Fox says.

“Training?”

At this, Fox looks at him. Hound would really rather prefer Fox didn’t look at him with such disdain, but he’ll take what he can get. Fox tends to look at everyone with disdain, except for his avian monstrosity, Sergeant Dogma, and Commander Thorn.

“Did you need something, Sergeant?”

Hound sighs and steps forward with his datapad stack. “Yeah. Here,” he offers the stack up, eyeing the bird warily. At least her mouth is occupied with her treat. Less chance of getting bitten. Getting bitten? Fucking sucks.

Fox takes them with a wordless grumble and starts scrolling through the order. Hound eyes up Hound. Her little metal perch is, inexplicably, welded to the top of Commander Fox’s desk--a fixture as permanent as Fox’s under-eye bags.

Fantastic.

“Where’d you get that?” Hound asks, tipping his head at the perch.

“Pretty, pretty bird,” Hound croaks at him in her strange raspy bird-voice. He’s certain she’s just issued a challenge to him. He’s less certain of what this challenge actually is.

Fox gives him a withering look. “You were there,” he says.

“Not the bird! The perch!”

“I made it.”

“You made it?”

“Nar’sheb,” contributes Hound.

Hound gapes. “Did she just tell me to ‘shove it up my ass’?”

Fox barks out a laugh. It’s terrifying. Hound wants it to stop. He wants it to stop yesterday. Commander Fox laughing is simply unnatural, like General Yoda in an evening gown or Senator Binks speaking with a Coruscanti accent.

Fox offers his denizen of evil another nut.

“I’m leaving,” Hound says, backing slowly towards the door. "Just get me those 'pads... whenever."

All of Hound the Lesser’s attention is on him as she holds the nut between her skinny little claws. And then she begins to bounce, head bobbing rapidly up and down.

Fox starts to laugh. Again.

Hound rushes from the office like his life depends on it. Frankly, it just might.

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

Give Me A Chance

D.Danny x G-N! Reader [Oneshot]

Relationship: Pining - Romantic

Warnings: Slight Cursing, A Suggestive Joke, Fluff.

"Here ya' go, Big Mama!" Heaving five large worn-sacks of what you expected to contain Yokai goods, the three partners-in-crime grinned triumphantly. "Managed to loot them flashy broads from a few blocks down, slipped in and out no problem."

Big Mama's features gleamed in awe as she watched the rugged men stroll through her lobby, nearing towards her with her prize. "Oh, splendid! Well, I'm sure you are well aware of sorting your share."

From your positioning nearby Big Mama's grand table, you inspected them as they lugged three of the five bags of plunder onto a convenient marble surface.

Mickey bobbed his head in affirmation. "Sixty per cent on your end, Boss. Just like we promised ya'!"

"Formidable work, boys. I once again thank you for your service." The woman's gaze wandered, examining the stash as she wavered her hand over it all. "Now, I'll just have my assistant here take care of this while you fellas make yourself acquainted."

The mention of your given role had peaked your attention, giving the Mud Dogs a once over before making your way to the table. Big Mama placed a delicate hand on your shoulder, her mouth nearing towards your ear whispering: "Keep a close eye on them for me. Don't want their grubby fingers finding themselves somewhere they shouldn't."

Your eyes trailed up to Loathsome stretching out on a nearby settee with Malicious gawking at the fine art that scattered across the lobby's walls. While Dastardly - the only Mud Dog that had "conversed" with you on multiple occasions - perched his elbows on the tabletop's edge with body facing towards you, awaiting your arrival.

Your over-watch would basically be unnecessary when you already have the rat's eyes watching your every move. Not that you minded his attention (to an extent), you just had no idea what enjoyment he was getting out of it.

"Will do, Chief."

With that, Big Mama made her way out of the area with a rhythmic sway of her hips. While in turn, you stalked over to the pile of moolah you were set to examine, having to position yourself beside the dapper rat; who seemed all too eager to stay close.

"So uh," Dastardly adjusted his footing, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "How's work been holding up for ya' recently?"

You halted your inspection to take a subtle glance around, Danny taking note of it on the spot. "The coast is clear, doll, don't worry 'bout it."

He nodded reassuringly with his brow quirked before you dragged out a long inflated sigh. You flipped your back to the table, the small of your back resting on the table's edge as you mirrored the rat's laid-back stance.

"It freaking blows. Literally the most boring job known to pretty much anyone." You combed your fingers through the roots of your hair, giving your scalp a small rub in the process. "It's shocking how exhausting it is to do absolutely nothing, seriously. I'd rather be on my feet actually doing something, you know, like you guys. Being an errand boy or whatever."

"Errand boys?" An offended scoff was sent to you in return, the sound already making the corners of your lips turn up. "I'll have you know it takes a lotta skill and precision ta' do what we do half the time."

"Yeah and the other half you just spend it aimlessly goofing around."

"Meh, whatcha gonna do?"

You chuckled before lazily hoisting yourself up onto the counter, careful not to get an ass full of coins by avoiding the bags of loot. "Hey, I wasn't exactly saying it was a bad thing. It's gotta be fun at least."

With your body slumped, you held your position with your palms pressed to the marble surface. Peeking out from your downcast gaze, you caught a glimpse of Dastardly inching himself closer to your side. The left side of his hip rested on the slab as he dug his hands deep into his pockets, eyeing your form intently.

"Y'know... We could have some fun, just you and me."

Your head struck up in an instant. "Woah there, Casanova. Try to keep it in your pants, you're supposed to be a professional."

"Whaddya m-" His brows drew together in confusing before his cheeks tinted as the realisation dawned on him. "Oh! Oh, shi- no! Jeez, toots, I just meant 'fun' as in taking you outta' dinner or catch a show or somethin'."

A brazen grin made its way to his lips, his nostrils slightly flaring. "Unless that other offer is on the table then-"

"-It isn't."

"Well," Faltering only for a moment, his thin lips stretched back into a small smile but it didn't quite reach his dark eyes, "how about that date then?"

You just... Didn't understand.

"What makes you so interested in going out with me?" Your brow raised in question, tapping your index finger anxiously on the cold marble. "We've barely even talked."

Bashful, Dastardly brought a clammy hand up to rub the back of his neck, giving his tendons a slight message. "Heh, that’s kinda the reason why, toots. I can't figure you out."

The man let out a sigh before slumping back onto the edge of the table, crossing one ankle over the other as he shifted his weight.

"Usually, I can look at someone and read em on the spot, but you don't put too much of yourself out there. Every time I'm here you give me feelings I ain't totally sure on how to handle, but I sorta like it. I always wanna hang out with you and do stupid shit without the boys taggin' along, it doesn't even matter what we do!"

You winced as he got excitable the more he went on. "Danny..."

"Just hear me out, please." He set his hands out in front of him to figuratively set you on pause. "I wanna get to know ya, and a part of me thinks you wanna get to know me too. So, if you're willin', lemme take you out so we can get to know each other. Outside of all this."

Of course you wanted to get to know him. He was this mysterious guy in a striped suit that would waltz in and out of your workplace every week and actually take the time to notice you around. You couldn't help the curiosity that welled deep in your belly every time you caught him eyeing you from across the room.

You just couldn't wrap your head around the fact that he actually wanted to know who you were. Not just one of Big Mama's collaborators. Not just the associate that idled around wherever your boss lurked. Just you. You couldn't help but be fond of the man for wanting to do so.

Though you were still cautious of his intentions...

Huffing lightly, you replied. "So there are these guys that have been pestering Big Mama, right? They've been digging at her to pay up whatever expenditure she owed them, and obviously, she did. Holding up her end of the bargain as always."

"And this has somethin' to do with the date thing because...?"

"Lemme finish. But as you also know, that woman isn't one for letting someone give her such a hard time without 'semi-retaliating'..."

"I'm reckoning that's where the boys and I come in." The rat roughly adjusted the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button. "So doing this job is the only way I'm going to have a chance with you, huh?"

You couldn't help the nip of guilt that caught you. "See it as more of a test, Romeo."

Hopping off of the counter with ease, you manoeuvred yourself in front of the man, setting your hands on his lapels. You fixed his blazer with a slight pull while straightening it out in the process.

"Do this particularly important job, then I'll consider..." Your eyes reached up to meet Danny's, observing his pink-tinted features for a brief moment. "The date thing. Deal?"

Despite feeling grateful for the offer, he sounded slightly defeated. "Consider?"

Tugging gently on his lapels, you brought your mouth up to his ear, keeping your voice hushed. "It's a definite yes if you get your ass back here quick enough."

His ear flicked back as his dumbstruck eyes stared at you in what seemed to be a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Coughing out to compose himself, he turned away from your form to face the two Yokai that loitered across the room.

"Aye, boys! D'ya hear that? We got a job to do, move yer hides!" Danny ushered them to the exit with a vigorous waft of his arms, ignoring any annoyed protests.

Before leaving the building himself, the suited man pivoted on one heel to bid you a due, with a smug tip of his hat. "See you soon, sunshine."

In return, you gave a simple short wave of your hand goodbye. Though you couldn't help but reflect the flashy grin that he held onto your own features.

The realisation only just settling in, you sprung up to halt him from leaving the lobby. "Wait, Danny! I haven't even told you the job yet!"

Almost cartoonish, the Yokai poked his head back through the door way. "But I just- i just made a big deal with the leaving thing! And no- oh y'know what, I'll be back tomorrow!"

"Okay!" A hearty laugh escaped your lips as you watched him leave for the second time, leaving you desolate.

Maybe he's worth that chance.