#i need to chew on her but far differently from the way i wanna chew on laios

[cowboythewizard726]

BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALINNNNNNNNNNN!!!

[nikkeora]

It's 2 a.m. and you're sitting in some dingy bar in the bad side of town, hand covering your fifth? drink of the night.

It's a little hole in the wall no one really knows but always stumbles into whenever they need it. You’ve only been in here twice before. The bartender is an older woman with not much makeup save for a dark brownish rouge on her lips. She’s nice enough, though. She gave you a bowl of cheap candy after your third drink.

Your eyes fall on the man on the far side of the counter. He's almost impossible to miss, what with being one of the three other people there, but he's also massive, which doesn't really help him blend into the shadows of the corner he's sitting in. His hair's in need of a trim, a little shaggy in some parts and almost covering his eyes, but it's clean and fluffy in a way that makes you want to run your hand through it. He's in a hoodie that's a little oversized even for him. Prime estate for any girl/boyfriend.

You've been staring a little too long, though. Seemingly feeling your gaze, his eyes flick up, meeting yours through the white strands in the way. He looks tired. Not too tired to send a glare your way, though.

But he’s pretty, so you decide he’s interesting.

Taking your glass and your candy, you walk the long, wobbly journey to his end of the table. The bartender keeps an eye on you, probably deciding to cut you off for the night. Bummer. In hindsight though, she probably should have done that a while ago. The hangover’s going to kill you tomorrow.

The man doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit down on the stool next to him. He doesn’t bat an eye when you keep staring either.

You scrunch your nose a little when the smell hits. “You smoke?”

You wonder if he’s just going to keep ignoring you when he shifts a little, angling himself away from you. “..go away.”

You rest your hand on your palm, taking a candy from your bowl and sliding it towards him. “It’s bad for you, y’know.”

“I don’t care. Go away.”

“Sweet things help.”

“Leave me alone.”

His voice is deep, but not in an ‘I chain smoke every day’ kind of way. Puberty must’ve hit like a bitch. A social smoker then, maybe. He doesn’t seem the social type though.

You sigh, taking a piece of candy for yourself. Your friends are social smokers. Well, ex-friends, but that sounds kinda silly. It’s a little melted and it sticks to your teeth and tastes like fruit flavored plastic. You shrug and enjoy it anyway.

You can feel him watching you out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to be left alone, you’re not that oblivious. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder, though. And apparently makes your stranger danger alarm go away, because you suddenly realize you’re sitting next to a grown ass man you don’t even know, and who’s twice the size of any guy you’ve seen around. Normal you would have left the bar as soon as he walked in. It’s Gotham, after all. Never too safe.

“…how many of those have you had?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to answer but have to finish chewing first. You’d apparently stopped when you drifted off.

“Like… at least two,” you shrug, glancing at the small bowl. It had been nearly full when the bartender had given it to you. Now it’s just about half empty. “Yep. Definitely at least two.”

He looks at you like you’re stupid. Rude. “..I can see that.”

“Your hair’s white.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Stressed much?”

Again, no answer.

“I am.” Your arms are crossed in the table now, and you lay your head on top. “Wanna know why?”

“No.”

“I cut off all my friends.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean ‘no, I don’t care.’”

“They were real toxic.”

“Okay.”

“Shoulda done it sooner.”

“Sure.”

You grab another candy. His eyebrows raise the slightest bit.

“Those are bad for you.” He says, a little gruffly.

“So’s smoking.”

“That’s different.”

“I’ll stop these when you stop smoking.”

“It’s different.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you get a clear look at his eyes for the first time. They’re such a pretty green. Or maybe blue. What was the color… teal? Cyan? Either way, they’re pretty. You tell him so.

“You’re pretty.” Your words come out a little dazed. You swear his eyes are glowing in the dim light.

He frowns at your words, gaze a little sharper now. “I’m not.”

Well that’s just ridiculous. “You are.”

“Stop it.”

“Is this some toxic masculinity thing?”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“I’m not pretty,” he grits out. There’s a finality in his voice that makes you hesitant to push. You notice him looking down at his hands, closed around his nearly untouched glass of whiskey. Not much of a drinker usually, then? Must’ve had a bad day. You also notice the scars littering his skin. His knuckles are the worst, but that’s really only because they’re cut and bruised, not fully healed like the backs of his hands.

“..you fight much?” You ask, a little quieter now. His fingers twitch, like he’s trying not to pull the sleeves of his hoodie up to cover the entirety of his hands.

“What’s it to you?”

“I fought too.”

“With your friends?”

You can’t help but smile at that. “So you were listening.”

“Wasn’t.”

“Sure.” You’re silent for a moment before you down the rest of your own drink, squinting at the bitter burn at the back of your tongue. “..yeah. With my friends. Lotta screaming. My throat hurts..” you pause, “..alcohol probably isn’t helping.”

He’s looking at you. “…no.”

“No as in ‘I don’t care’?”

He shakes his head. You swear there’s almost a smile ln his lips. It’s probably your alcohol-ridden brain seeing things where they aren’t. “No as in, ‘no, alcohol probably isn’t helping.’”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I have common sense.”

“Do you, though?”

“You calling me dumb?”

“I’m calling you drunk.”

You giggle. “Maybe.”

“No, not ‘maybe’,” he rolls his eyes again, glancing at the bartender when she comes over to take your empty glass. “Jess is cutting you off.”

So her name is Jess. You squint at her as she puts your glass in the sink. Suits her.

You reach for another piece of candy when he takes the bowl away from you. “I’m cutting you off, too.”

You groan. “But why though..”

“You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“So give it back.”

“No.” So bossy.

You glare at him. Some of his hair falls back in front of his eyes. “..you need a trim.”

His eyebrows rise, caught a little off guard. “..haven’t had the time.”

“Can I do it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

“What if I wasn’t?”

“I still don’t trust you with scissors near me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know you,” he pauses, considering the half-empty bowl he’s keeping away from your reach. A weird but somehow generic name is printed on each candy. No ingredients, though, just flimsy plastic. “And because you eat Gotham store-brand candy by the handful… god, what’s in these?”

He looks at the bartender - Jess - with an almost disappointed look. “Really, Jess? You couldn’t even get the good knockoffs?”

“It was on clearance,” Jess drawls, unbothered.

“You do know me, though,” you murmur, head resting on your arms again. The man shakes his head slightly.

“I don’t even know your name.” Okay, fair point.

You give him your name. “What’s yours?”

There’s a minute before he answers. You can tell he’s contemplating just leaving right then. You’re getting a little too close for comfort. You don’t want him to leave. Your eyes shift to look at the table instead.

“…Jason.”

“Jason,” you hum. It suits him.

There’s really nothing to do here anymore. You’ve been cut off from the two things that gave you purpose here. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He shrugs. As if he’s not part of the reason there’s nothing to do now. “Go home.”

Your expression darkens at that, and you muffle a groan by now lying face-down on the table. It’s not sticky, thankfully. That’s really all you can ask of a place like this. “I can’t.”

Jason frowns. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“The friends I cut off were also my roommates..” Bit of a stupid decision on your part.

“That was dumb.”

“Yes, Jason, I know. Thank you.” You sigh. There’s definitely going to be a shit ton of glitter in all your stuff by the time you get back home. You don’t have the strength to deal with that today. Evil little fuckers.

You’re busy trying to remember if there’s a motel around you can actually trust when it happens. Maybe you looked a little too miserable to ignore. Jason, after a couple minutes of seemingly endless self conflict, blurts out,

“You could crash at mine.”

…

Um…

I mean, yeah, sure. Why the fuck not at this point, right?

“Um… thanks, but, I don’t know..” you decline once to be polite. And also because holy shit, some guy - very pretty guy, but still some random guy - just offered for you to sleep at his place. You’re not getting murdered, right? He’s been nice(ish) up to this point, but…

Jason, apparently also utterly confused on why he’s offering in the first place, adds, “we have a guest room. Probably a lot cleaner than any motel within walking distance.”

“We?”

“My roommate.”

“Oh.”

You sigh again. Thinking too hard about this is starting to make your brain hurt. And you really don’t want to go back home.

The bartender comes over to take the candy bowl. You wave her over, leaning over a little to talk ‘discreetly’.

“You know this guy?” You ask, tossing what your drunk mind thinks is an inconspicuous glance at Jason.

She shrugs. “Yeah. For a while.”

“So he’s safe?”

She raises an eyebrow. “..safe as it gets around here.”

She shakes her head at the skeptical look you give her. “I’ve known him since he was little. He’s a good kid.”

Alright. Good enough.

You turn back to Jason. “..Mind if I sleep over?”

He shakes his head, leaving a twenty under his still mostly full glass and sliding off his stool. He’s even bigger standing up. What did his parents feed him?

You pay your tab and follow behind him, stumbling occasionally. It’s cold when you get out of the bar, you’re sure it has to be, because your breath fogs up the slightest bit. You should be shivering with how thin your shirt is, and you’d neglected to grab a jacket when you’d stormed out of your apartment, but the drinks you’ve had dulls the sense. Your cheeks are warm enough you’re sure there’s a very noticeable blush there.

You stumble on the crumbly pavement, hand instinctively reaching out to grab Jason’s arm to keep yourself from falling. He tenses, but doesn’t pull away. You hold onto his sleeve for the rest of the walk.

He’s nice. Just.. nice. While it may be a catch all phrase to describe someone who doesn’t have much else going for them, it’s also often overlooked how difficult it is to find someone who’s just nice (in a non-creepy way) in a place like Gotham, and especially Crime Alley. Just look at the name.

He finds somewhere clean-ish for you to sit when you’re feeling a little dizzy and entertains your little detours, like stopping at some random convenience store to fill a random cat food bowl on the street because there’s a little left at the bottom, “and that means something’s eating out of it. It’s probably hungry now.”

When you get to his place, you tentatively step inside, looking around but not really taking in much. You’re not comfortable showering here so you just decide to sleep in your outside clothes. Not the most comfortable thing either, but it’s not long to fall asleep after your head hits the pillow, so you don’t have to think about it much.

Vaguely, you feel something soft being haphazardly pulled over your head.

It barely feels like you’ve blinked when the sun peeks through the blinds, dark circles and a pounding headache keeping you company as you groan, trying to make sense of the world again.

You’re in a strange bed. You reach up to rub the sleep out of your eyes when you realize you can’t.

Looking down, there’s a hoodie pulled over the thin top you wore out last night. It’s on in a weird way that you’re technically wearing it, but your arms are stuck inside the torso and not in the sleeves. It smells faintly of cotton, the brownish paper of books and Irish Spring. There’s also the smallest hint of cheap gas station cologne. It’s not bad, but it doesn’t quite fit in with the rest.

You opt to keep it on since it’s chilly. Pushing your arms out the sleeves, you try to stand up from the bed and immediately sit back down, the headache worse with the sudden movement. Your muscles aren’t much better either, some screaming in protest since you slept positioned like a crumpled piece of paper in the night. Taking a moment to recover, that’s when you notice the cup of water and a packet of pills on the bedside table.

Taking the necessary amount, you feel a little heat in your cheeks. The alcohol must not have completely worn off yet.

You sit there a minute before trying to get up again. Success. You reach the door and are just about to turn the handle when you hear voices outside.

“-can’t believe you brought a girl home-”

“She needed a place to crash. That’s it.”

“And you gave her my hoodie!”

“It’s my hoodie.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was it meticulously stashed in your closet?”

“No.”

“No! Because it was in mine, and therefore, is mine.”

“You can have it back when she goes home.”

“I want it now..”

“There’s like half a dozen more in the closet. Pick one.”

It’s then that you decide to open the door. It didn’t sound like they were stopping any time soon. Plus, you needed something hot in your system right that minute or you were definitely going to throw up everywhere.

You recognize Jason, but the other man - a ginger in a tank top, well-built but not massive like the former - is new, and he stares at you for a solid minute like you’re an alien creature.

“…hi?” You mumble awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. It’s the first time you’ve been taken to a stranger’s place drunk, with nothing but literal sleep happening after.

“Hey,” Surprisingly, the ginger is the one to move first. He gives you a toothy grin, holding out his hand. Jason pushes it away, but it persists. “I’m Roy.”

You take his hand after a second. “y/n.”

Your eyes flicker over to Jason, who’s already staring at you. He looks a little softer here than at the bar, the natural coming through the small living room window makes him look a little less weary. Or maybe he just had a good night’s sleep. Are the circles under his eyes lighter?

“So…” you start, feeling a little uncomfortably warm under his gaze. “Thank you.. for everything.”

You’re expecting him to kick you out. After all, letting you sleep here in the first place must’ve been an impulsive decision made under the influence of alcohol and pity - god, why had you told him so much?

It’s another minute or something of staring before Roy ‘subtly’ elbows him, apparently bringing Jason back online.

“..can I take you out for breakfast?”

bruce / dick / tim

[warframe1999]

Sooo…

The protoframes, huh?

i wanted to go a bit into what each member of the Hex (yay, new syndicate!!) had to say when you got into proximity of them in the relay. there’s honestly a lot here to set the scene not only for 1999 itself, but introducing each protoframe as well as sort of hinting at their interpersonal relationships, and how they interact with one another! some of my favorite kinda of lore is specifically character development and personality-focused dynamics like this so here!!!! i walked back and forth for an hour for YOU! here is all proximity dialogue for each character in the Höllvania Mall relay:

ARTHUR:

“Question. Could I take Quincy down if he turned on me?”

“We’ll find you, Doctor. That’s a promise.”

“Stop sniffing around my head, Eleanor. If I want to talk, I’ll talk.”

“We need to keep Lettie on her feet. If she goes we all go.”

“Dunno why we even bothered with that cleaning rota.”

“Yeah, we can hold this place.”

“One day, Aoi. No more roadblocks and checkpoints. Just you and me and the bikes, open road for miles, all this bullshit far away. I swear to Sol.”

“Still too open. We need more chokepoints.”

“Bottled water. Like sodding gold dust.”

“Well Amir’s still alive. That’s a win.”

LETICIA:

“I got nothin’ to prove to you, Quincy! Go play your little games, niño.”

“¿Qué onda? The Lady Eleanor ain’t no more freaky than the last time you checked in. ‘Less you know different?”

“Yo, Aoi. Chill, hermana. Do something for yourself, for once. Arthur ain’t going to blow away if you blink.”

“The boss says care for his sister I care for his sister. As long as you still are his sister… and as long as I feel like listening to him.”

“Being loved and being hurt? Yeah, I make no distinction. I knew someone, once, wired the same way. Kept me sane. And what of it? Te crees muy acá ¿no? Get outta my head, Eleanor.”

“Never signed up for this. I’ll be home Mamá. Your little girl doesn’t end here. No te preocupes.”

“Man, I’ve been awake so long that even the spiders in my head have all gone to sleep.”

“Wacha: unless you’re pissing blood right this second, whatever it is can wait.”

“I swear, should lock Aoi and Amir in a cuna. Didn’t sign up for no babysitting gig.”

AOI:

“I don’t wanna go on patrol. I wanna take stuff apart.”

“Nearly time for the On-lyne boys.”

“Metal, metal, metal, what do you want to be?”

“Yep. I can live like this.”

“Arthur needs to keep some fuel in the tank for himself. Goddamn savior complex that man has…”

“I oughta get some headphones. Then I wouldn’t have to hear Quincy work off all that surplus testosterone!”

“If they take Entrati out, who’s going to look after that mutant jaguar of his? Poor thing won’t last five minutes in the wild.”

“Amir! Remember to hydrate!”

“Dear past self: we finally got those super powers we always wanted. Whaddayaknow.”

“GodDAMN. Lettie would you keep your frickin’ rats OUT of my SPACE?”

QUINCY:

“Don’t look up, Doctor.”

“Arthur needs to leave the Major to me, innit. Respect my methods.”

“Don’t mind the waiting. Plenty to be thinking about.”

“You don’t know me. Never see what darkens your rooftops. Inevitable, like the rain. Handing out consolations in a transient connection. Boom. Smoke. And ghost.”

“You wiv me, Eleanor? How deep in you go? See anythin’ you fancy, girl?”

“Amir is a weak, weak boy. Like Aunty said, ‘duppy know who fi frighten.’”

“Thassit… nice and steady.”

“How many man have the opps got? Not enough t’be takin’ me. Never.”

“Oi, Lettie! Grab y’ strap and let’s go. Best a five buys the drinks?”

ELEANOR:

“Don’t expect me to tell you what I’ve seen in Amir’s head. He’s not a beautiful, broken marionette, and he’s nobody’s project. He’s one of us.”

“Quincy thinks he’s going to wake up one night to me chewing the flesh from his ribs. Maybe he’s right.”

“I know you’re there. I can feel you. It’s okay, I won’t tell the others.”

“Aoi? She’s lovely and kind and strong, and… I kind of hate her a little bit. Because it should have been her spreading her happiness into everyone’s heads, and me throwing cars and trucks around.”

“I thought there were going to be two of you! Where’s the other one?”

“Blood. There’s gonna be a fight. Something… bursting. Crossed swords. Arthur!”

“What on earth is a ‘Mara Lohk’?”

“Oh, you’re going to make such a difference this time around.”

“I don’t think Doctor Entrati expected me to survive. I had a lot more than just a cough. But… survive I did. And Lettie has not forgiven me for it.

“Oh. OH. She’s wonderful! Triple-faced goddess! But there’s a shadow on her, isn’t there?”

AMIR:

“A little zap, and… infinite credit! No more ‘insert coin’! Not that we could insert coin. We have no coin. Once we had coin, but now Aoi has smooshed all the coin. Coinnnn.”

“Why did they never make a console port?”

“BAD MOVE, SPACE CAA-DET.”

“But the one thought none of them spoke out loud was - could Lettie reattach a head?”

“Hey, Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Dahh, you missed it.”

“Eleanor? Are you there? Can you - can you give my brain a hug please? Thank you.”

“We’re getting a little too excited, let’s step it down, step it down before we get the blue cracklies. In one two out one two.”

“Oi’m Quincy. Oi’m gonna blow out yer kneecaps. Mashup in yer chip shop alright.”

“Ungh! This violent video game is influencing my emotions! Societal norms… eroding! Morality… subsumed! I MUST KILL!”

“This place used to smell so good. Coffee. Cookies. Fresh clean socks. Now it’s just rust, pain, and old socks.”

[scar-lie]

I’m obsessed with your omega series<3

Omega Pt. 7 [Natasha]

Summary : They quickly rush Y/N and the twin to the medbay got quickly assisted by Dr. Cho and Banner, while they are waiting for Y/N to get out of Surgery, Natasha and Yelena got into a little argument and they didn't expect what they hear from Dr. Cho and Banner the news

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Reader

Warning : Mention of Blood, Mention of attacked, Thought of violence, arguing,

Word count : 1,898

{OMEGA PT. 6} {OMEGA PT. 7} {OMEGA PT. 8}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Get the fuck away!-"

"Get Dr. Cho and Banner-"

"Don't worry, we're here-"

""Clear the fucking way!"

"Oh my god, what happene-"

"Over here-"

All the words are muffled for Y/N, even the beeping sound on her head and the sound of the stretcher's wheel making a noise.

"Dr. Cho, she's opening her eyes." You don't know who said that 'cause your eyesight is getting blurry and you're in and out of consciousness, but you can outline the people around you, and even though you can't determine who's voice is who, all of them have their own opinions and keep talking.

You know Wanda, Natasha, Dr. Cho, Banner, Yelena, Steve, Bucky, Clint, and Tony are the ones who're wheeling you through the corridor, each voice echoing in your ear and making your head pound with pain.

Everything is blurry, and it's happening too fast for you; one second you're in pain, going through labor, and the next you're laying in your nest trying to stay awake and strong for your twin pups, and now here you are being wheeled somewhere you don't know, either in the hospital or in the medbay, until you lose consciousness.

Nat, go upstairs and clean yourself; it's going to be like... hours before she gets out of surgery," Steve said, worried for the redhead that's walking back and forth, anxious.

"No, I'm going to stay here; besides, the pups need me," Natasha said blankly while chewing her nails.

"We will take care of them while you shower; you're covered in blood, Nat; you can't look after them in your state for now." Wanda interfered, putting her hand on Natasha's shoulder and guiding her to sit down.

"N-no...no, I wanna be here when—" Before Natasha can finish her sentence, Yelena interrupts her.

"Just fucking go! That's the least you could do!" Yelena shouts, looking at Natasha across from her.

"You don't have the right to raise your voice on me! Remember, I'm still your head of— Natasha got interrupted again.

"A fucking useless head of Alpha, yeah, I know, if it wasn't for you, Y/N would have been fine! You shouldn't have marked her! mated her if you can't stand up as her Alpha that she deserved! You should have stayed away from her! Yelena gave her sister a death glare.

"Yeah, like you're a good and well-deserved Alpha! Remember, because of you, your mate nearly died by your own bare hands!" Natasha spat out, standing up, as does Yelena.

"That was a different story. Yelena tries to defend herself against the mistake she made years ago.

"Oh, really, 'cause as far as I know, she's your mission; you even sold her to her mother. Yelena wants to attack her sister, but luckily Clint and Bucky hold her back while Wanda, Steve, and Tony hold Natasha to attack her sister too.

"Get off of me; I'm going to show her what a real Alpha is!" Yelena is trying to break free, but the winter soldier is keeping her ground in her spot.

"Oh yeah, really? Let her be and see where you'll be going. Before Natasha can finish, Maria and Thor get in the scene with two cute pups in their arms.

"Stop it, you two! Aren't you embarrassed? Y/N is in surgery; Dr. Cho, Banner, and other surgeons are trying to save her life while you two are fighting. Maria scolds the two who stop breaking free but still look at each other with their death glare.

"Whatever's happening to you two, put it aside if you two can't be in the same room together! Y/N will be needing some support system, as were these two pups, Show some respect!" Maria added, then she looked at Thor, who was mesmerized by the pup in his arm.

The two are going to start arguing again, and when Wanda senses it, she quickly outsmarts them.

"If you two can't fix this out now, then the both of you should go leave this floor! The least Y/N and the pups need is you two fighting, so either figure it out and stay here or get out and don't come back until you two figure it out." Wanda snapped at the both of them, and they both shut their mouths and sat down on the bench in the hallway.

Good," Maria and Wanda said at the same time when they saw the two quickly behave well.

"Ca-can I hold them?" Natasha asked, looking at the pup in her arm with different emotions. Maria looked at Natasha.

"After you clean up, they are only hours old; the dirt and blood in your body could make them sick," Maria said firmly, and Yelena smirked, knowing Natasha would probably leave anytime soon now.

"But-" Clint quickly stops her.

"No buts, Nat, go and clean yourself; it's for yours and the pups safety. We will be here when you come back; they're not going anywhere, I swear." Clint patted her shoulder, but she's still unsure.

"Go Nat; you could use some fresh air and freshening up to clear your mind," Steve said to her, and she nodded, standing up and going up to her room to have a cold, needed shower.

"What have I done?"

The four words keep echoing in Natasha's mind while she's standing naked while the water runs down above her head, down to the ground, and down to the drain along with her salty tears.

She can't seem to move a single limp on her body; she feels numb. The scene keeps replaying in her mind.

"She's going to hate you."

"She will never forgive you."

"She's going to resent you."

"She'll never gonna let you near her and the pups."

It's like a devil that keeps whispering in her ears and blocking the angel's voice with their devilish sentence.

To Natasha, she's a monster who killed children and innocent people who asked for her mercy and is now causing her loved ones lives to be lost because of her careless decisions.

Looking down on her clean hands makes her feel sick. Even though she washes her body, especially her hands, multiple times, she can still mentally see the blood stain on her skin—a blood stain from her former mate.

Now that she thinks of it, Natasha has lost the right to be her Alpha. Now that their marks on their necks are perfectly gone, not even a single scratch of their mark can be seen.

It only means that her rejection of you is a success; she is now again an unmated Alpha who needs to look for an Omega, and so do you if you choose to look for one.

And the thought of you in someone's arm, wearing their mark, clinging to them, and going home in your nest with someone made her heart ache; she couldn't imagine how she could get past that without ripping their heads off.

Natasha, are you okay in there? It's been hours, and we're worried something will happen. " Natasha got out of her trace when she heard a knocking sound in the bathroom door.

"Ye-yes?" Natasha said back, enough for the person to hear from the other side.

"Are you ok?" Clint repeated, worried for his best friend.

"Yeah, Ye-yeah....yeah, I'm ok, I'll....I'll be out in a minute," Natasha replied, shutting the shower off and drying herself, applying necessity to her body and changing to a clean pair of fitted grey tank tops and black sweat pants without the garter on the ankle and coming down to her toes.

She then does a single braid to her hair so if she holds the twins, there's no hair falling to their faces that can cause a rash or itch. Then she comes out, looking at Clint with guilty eyes. Clint patted the space beside him on the bed, so Natasha sat beside him.

"Clint, I didn't—" Natasha stopped herself and bit her lower lip, trying not to cry again, so Clint patted her back and ran his hand up and down.

"I know........I know." Clint gave her a gentle smile.

"Yelena's right, I'm a fucking useless head of—" Clint quickly cut her off, not wanting to hear it.

"I may not know what happened between you two or why your sister wants to kill you, but I know who you are." Clint started looking at his best friend, who's clearly broken.

"You're the infamous Natasha Romanoff, a cruel black widow, the head Alpha, but a soft one, protective, caring, passionate, and protective to your people, especially to your loved ones. There's a reason why you're the head of Alpha besides Steve." Clint took her hand and squeezed it, giving comfort to Natasha.

"I'm not saying this because I'm on your side or on Yelena's side, but I'm saying this because you're my best friend, and I know what's going on in your head. Clint tapped her head with his pointer finger.

"You are worthy of your title, and to Y/N, we all know that you're not a cruel killer, you're not a monster. You're just a human Natasha. People make mistakes. Human Natasha and we're human. We made mistakes we didn't want nor intended. I know what you did to Y/N is not right, especially of what she's in now—I heard the side of the story of Yelena and Wanda." Clitn quickly said the last term, to make Natasha understand.

"But you have pups to look after, now that their mother is in surgery and in need of a lot of extra hands to take care of them. You need to step up and be there, even if Y/N don't want you to." Natasha has a small smile plastered on her face just at the thought of him saying her pups

"My pups," she whispers, but Clint hears it, and he can see a smile in her voice.

"How are they? and Y/N?" Natasha looked at Clint.

"Why don't you go and find out?" Natasha nodded, standing up with Clint and going back to the medical bay.

Once they entered the same hallway, they saw Banner and Dr. Cho get out in their scrubs. Once Natasha saw them, she quickly ran in their direction.

"How is she? Is she okay? h-how bad is her injury?" Natasha rambles, and the team is waiting too for the news.

"We've been able to get out another pup that has been stuck in her belly, which makes the pup weaker and needs to be examined and observed. We want to make sure that there's no birth defect. We also needed to open her up because she's hemorrhaging. We believe she fell or hit something with her belly, making her blood vessel rupture. She also dislocated her shoulder." Dr. Cho finished and looked at Banner, which makes Natasha get anxious, knowing there's something more.

"And did you see something or someone around the area?" Bruce asked. Natasha, Steve, Wanda, and Yelena look at each other.

"Yes, we didn't know who they were; we tried to chase after them, but they quickly vanished from our eyesight. Why?" Steve answered Bruce and put his hand on Natasha's shoulder.

"By her injury and deep wound, we believe she's been attacked....she has scratches, some deep, some not." Natasha clenched her jaw and fist, already planning many ways to kill the person who did this, and so was Yelena.

Taglist : @natashaswife4125 @fxckmiup

[antilocaprine]

Im chewing on waterbounds new chapter forever…im one of the readers that never read the books with daemons in it but i was chatting about the new chapter with my friends- most people wont survive that, right? Is there a way to survive it? Im sure itll be answered in the next chapter so I could just wait and see but I wanna tell you either way this fic rules so far!

(Waterbound)

I'm delighted that people are enjoying this silly little crossover. And you're chatting about it with friends - it's like a book club! Amazing! I feel like I should give you homework, but the only thing I would suggest is to read the His Dark Materials series, because if the daemon aspect of this story intrigues you, you would probably enjoy the books. I haven't seen the show, but I've heard good things about it. I haven't seen the movie, but I've heard bad things about it.

As for if what just happened is survivable...the short answer is that there's no Major Character Death tag on the fic! I'll put the longer answer under a readmore, because this chapter only came out a couple days ago and people might not want spoilers yet.

So, longer answer: this is not an unfamiliar experience! We've already heard Benrey talk about it when he said he and his daemon were "separated." In the books, there's a major plot point of children being "severed" from their daemons, where a daemon is ripped or cut away from them with terrible machinery and in a single swift action. There are also adults who have had it done, and it makes them...odd. Doll-like, almost, very incurious, very susceptible to suggestion. If their daemon is allowed to remain close, they can survive, but the connection between them - the feelings, the thoughts, the joining of body and soul - is gone forever, and the daemon becomes "a lovely little pet," as one antagonist says at one point (which is awful - that's your SOUL). But if the severed children and daemon are kept apart, they will both eventually die.

Separation is different from severing. Separation is slower, more purposeful. In the books, we meet several characters who have separated from their daemons - as mentioned earlier in Waterbound, there used to be a race of people called witches, who all had bird daemons. In the books, one of the final trial for the girls who became witches was to cross a waste that daemons could not enter on foot, thus tearing themselves away from them consciously, for the ability and the skills that doing so would open up for them. Humans can also separate from their daemons - two of the main characters do in the main series of books, one of the main characters does it in the prequel, and then the main character meets...like...SO MANY more people who are separated from their daemons in the sequel series. All of those separations happened consciously, purposefully, relatively slowly, and almost always with the understanding of what was happening and what they were doing.

That's what happened with Benrey - after his family's boats were attacked and his daemon settled in her final shape due to the trauma, he was hurt from the attack and needed medical attention, but his daemon was too big to go with him, and certainly couldn't go on shore. So he had to leave her in the water and walk up the beach, pulling himself away from her, hating it the whole time, and hating himself for doing that to her and to them and not knowing they'd be okay, just hoping. Witches may be extinct in this fic, but they were real once, so everyone knows the stories. Benrey just had to test the reality of the tall tales, and discovered that, in this case, they were true. After all, his daemon just settled as a mythical creature - so why not? What's one more thing? Why can't separation be real? And so he did it, and it was real, and they were, eventually, okay. But the pain is also real, and the trauma is real, and you don't just forget about that kind of thing. So no, the separation won't kill Gordon - he'll just wish he was dead.

[ask-a-bot]

oh, starscream, when you mentioned aviator flu, that reminded me! ive had to carry away two perfectly good bird carcasses to the woods so far :( i love birds they were so heartbreakingly light wahhh.. im not sure what the first one was but i know the second one last week was a swallow! they're very common where i live and they like nesting near barns and similar places :)

i wish i had had some sort of method to preserve them! ill need to look into those for sure, because its not a want it's a need. im sure you understand!!

side note, i also want to preserve the body part of one of my pets some day. they mean a lot to me and having that would be such a sweet way of always having them with me, imo :)

do you have any pets btw? or did you ever want to? earth animal or not, i wanna hear about 'em! i like speculative biology by the way. :) sorry

-🥩

I love swallows! They've got so many different names and they travel to Africa every winter and then to America and Europe for the summertime. I've been watching some here. They're really beautiful. Similar birds are martins (some nest in holes in cliffs and steep riverbanks and other kinds nest on houses – they make a gun-like noise when they're on the wing, so you always know it's them and not swallows) and swifts (they only ever land when they're tending their nests/young. They make a "wheeee" sound that's very loud – you can hear them through double-glazed windows and they've got long, curved wings that are much longer than swallows' and martins' wings). I hope I'm not boring you.

If you can't keep their bodies, could you photograph them? Maybe you could even send pictures to a local organisation or something that looks after wildlife in your area, for their records. I think Dot would be interested, if you were in her area.

It's worth looking into. Many organisations have forums, websites and even Flickr groups you can submit pictures, sound/video recordings and observations to. Pictures and sound don't have to be expert-level, but you do need to be able to recognise the bird or animal.

Dead specimens are usually OK (but check) if they're... you know... intact and not... gross. I recommend against submitting disturbing images unless a site, group or forum states otherwise.

I hope that helps!

Sorry, Star. I jumped in without asking when I heard my name.

It's fine. That was helpful. I wouldn't've thought of Flickr. That's a good idea. I might look into signing up myself.

I haven't got any pets, but I'd like a dog. There are some spectacular breeds from Cybertron that I'd love to own. Megatron says I'm too immature.

Well... maybe you need to show him how responsible you can be.

I've been looking after Calla! That's a lot of work.

Yeah, but her poop isn't as smelly as a carnivore's poop. Calla doesn't need housebreaking. She doesn't whine and paw at you for attention when you're busy. A puppy is with you in the house. They chew. They get into mischief. They pee and poop a lot. You have to watch them and train them and if you don't put the time in you end up with disobedient, destructive, dirty animals you can't trust inside your house.

Thank you. It's nice to know you have so little faith in my abilities.

What? No! No, I didn't mean that. It's just... you need to make sure you're ready for all of that. It's a lot. It's like having kids, only kids can tell you when they feel sick or something hurts or... whatever.

... Noted.

[rexhya]

note ;; first chapter! enjoy you guys

❝[ Name ] wake the fuck up and tell me what you want for breakfast!❞ 

You groggily turned over in your sheets, groaning from your mothers call, shifting back and forth to try and find a comfortable position too sleep in again.

Morning already?

❝And you better not being going back to sleep again ! or were having grits from breakfast again!❞ 

oh no, you hate grits.

❝I'M UP, I'M UP !, jeez what is up with that woman...❞ 

❝| HEARD THAT MISSY!❞ the hell? Your mom and her selective hearing strikes again.

❝I SAID NOTHING❞ you yelled back, reluctantly leaving the warmth of your bed sheets to crawl your way into the bathroom.

Today was the day.

The day you would leave behind your friends, family and everything you knew to finally explore the vast and beautiful world.

❝[Name] hurry up! Your breakfast is getting cold!❞

To find joy in the little things. To make memories with irreplaceable friends— maybe even foes—to encounter A GLORIOUS AMOUNT OF ANIMALS AND CREATURES AND ALL LIVING THINGS TO FACE THE EA-

❝[ Name ] I'm not gon' call you again, I need you down hear now!❞ Whoops, okay maybe you we're getting ahead of yourself but today was still the day, it was Tuesday.

And you were going to take the hunters exam.

❝[ Name ] if you don't get your butt down here in about 5 seconds flat— ❞ 

Oh shit.

You finished up your bathroom necessities and began to race downstairs.

❝ I am going to whoop you so far across the world your not even gonna--❞ 

❝ I'm here, l'm here!❞ you sat in your chair as quickly as possible sitting up perfectly straight.

❝Good, now eat your breakfast—I made your favorite. ❞  she said, in a much quieter tone.

All that fuss, and for nothin... you picked up your fork and began chewing on the typical all american breakfast your mom made for you. Eggs, bacon, sausage all the good stuff.

 But this isn't even my favorite...you thought. 

❝Don't give me no attitude now, i said eat your breakfast ❞ 

❝But I didn't even!— ❞  she raised an eyebrow and you didn't bother to finish. Your mom and her superpowers of perception. Whatever I guess.

❝Mom❞ She didn't bother turning to face you as she washed the dishes, scrubbing soapy water into the sink.

❝Mom, guess what.❞ Still no answer and she continued washing.

❝Mom! mom are you listening Mom ? hey !! Mooomm!! Motherrrr!! Mommy !! Im right here can you hear me--?❞ 

❝I can hear you [ Name ]! I can hear you, now what is it—what is it that you want from me huh?❞ She was still facing away from you, scrubbing hard on the same spot-though you were sure it was clean by now.

❝Well... you know i'm leaving today.❞  You tread lightly.

❝I know .❞ She was tight and quick-lipped with her answer.

❝Yeah, and well ya' know i just wanted to ask if you'd packed my bag like I said you too, it's okay if you didn't though I don't mind doing it myself really—❞ 

❝I packed it, it's by the door. make sure you close the window on your way out, don't wanna any bugs or critters gettin' in the food... ❞ She trailed off slowly, her insistent scrubbing coming to a halt.

You glanced over to the window and the door, smiling at the small (f/c ) bag your mother had gotten for your 11th birthday. a gift reminiscent of the one your dad used to have.

❝Thanks mom!❞ you quickly put your plate away and rushed to see the contents that remained in the backpack.

❝Water, check, charger, check, food, check, check check... yup ! it looks like you got pretty much everything, thanks!❞ 

❝ Yeah, no problem sweetheart...well...uh see ya'! don't die on me have and good trip! ❞  you lifted an eyebrow at her casual remark.

❝Srsly? just letting your BARELY 12 year old kid go on one of the most dangerous trips mankind could ever imagine and you send her off with an almost cheerful souding goodbye?❞ you asked her, feining hurt.

❝Oh please, you'd make a fuss if I bid you goodbye any different, and you know that❞ you sniggered and nodded you head vigorously up and down.

❝ I know, ᐢᗜᐢ  ! i just like teasing you ❞ your mother shook her head solemnly.

❝ Oh come hear you... ❞  but you didn't get a chance to walk over and embrace your mother and instead was taken into her arms with a tight hug.

❝M' gonna miss you ya' know...be safe out there okay?❞ 

you were so shocked at her gesture you almost didn't hug her back. she wasn't one too be so emotional, and neither were you.

❝ Oh mom.... ❞ 

❝ Yes sweetheart? ❞  she pulled away and looked at your face, caressing your cheek with her hands.

❝ I'm gonna miss you too.❞ How vulnerable of you.

❝ I know you will ❞ you rolled your eyes and lightly pushed her off.

❝Yeah, yeah says the one practically sobbing over my shoulder ❞  she stood up from her position and began pushing you out the door of your home not bothering to entertain your antics or teasing.

❝M om look mom-mom look at me mom you were like this. ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡'—mom look you were like this— ❞ 

❝ Oh enough with you please...just go before you really see me cry. ❞ 

❝ Alright alright, I'm going ❞  you stood a few feet away from her now, looking closely at all her features, one last time.

❝  I'll be back soon, i promise ❞ 

she smiled warmly at your sudden determination and waved as you made your way away from her. ❝ I know you will [ Name ] l know you will ❞ 

and with that, you were off.

Every year millions of incredible people took part in the Hunters exam, but only a handful make it in the end, in fact over 90% of the people attempting the hunters exam don't even make it too the exam site. Big number for such large amount of people.

❝Don't take this lightly, boy❞  such hypocritical words from an awfully weak looking man. oh yeah-quick update: you made it on the ship, safe and sound.

You sat on the stairs of the boat, leaning against the wall to support yourself. Until now pretty much nothing had happened since you got here and the only interesting thing you had found about the world so far was that old fat men who really couldn't hold their liquor well were very susceptible to getting jackhammed in the balls.

jeez I really hope all of the world isnt like this...or i might just change my mind about wanting to explore so bad..

You watched carefully at the green or black haired boy. He didn't seem even the slightest bit bothered by the harsh words of the other man, but instead calmly walked over to the balcony of the ship, observing what was happening below.

❝Hey Katoz! the fuck is yer doing !? pick the Godammed apples up bitch boy!❞  the crew member snickered and you rolled your eyes.

eugh, it's like a group of school boys in here

❝Quiet down you fucktards, stop messing around and get back to work! ❞ a man with a sailors hat and stubby pink face came bursting through the doors of the ship. a bottle filled with what you assumed was whiskey held tightly in hand.

eugh again! pirates and their alcohol, it was seriously going to be the death of you.

❝ Yes sir !! ❞ the men who had been previously bullying the apple bearer kicked their tails between their legs and rushed out of the area.

❝And you ❞ he pointed towards Kotoz. ❝ get back to work ❞ 

❝  wait !! ❞  it was the green haired boy shouting, he kicked the apple from the ship floor up too his hands and into katoz's bucket.

❝ thank you!! ❞  the ginger said, quickly doing as told and getting back to work.

you sighed and leaned your head back, breathing in the salty ocean air. I hope mom is doing okay, hope shes not lonely. it's sorta nice out right now maybe I'll send over a letter...

❝  a storm is coming ❞ 

oh great, perfect, splendid.

❝ a big one too ❞ 

oh thats just amazing ( seriously who's writing this plot line? )

you glanced at the person claiming to know the weather.

it's that boy again..

you sniffed the air again-than once more

smells a bit rainy i guess, but still... how would he know?

❝trust me i can tell, my nose has never failed me❞  the boy seemed sure of himself.

guess that means no letter...or maybe it wont come like he says it will...

CRACK! SHAAAAAA ! WOOOOSH!

nevermind, he was right.

the storm was the least of your worries however, you were more concerned about the 112 other people on the ship practically throwing there guts up (some DEFINITELY throwing there guts up) than a measly little storm.

you suppose someone was more concerned than you though; it was that boy again, the green haired, golden eyed kid that predicted the clouds terror in the first place. he was going around helping all of the pitiful contestants who could barely hold themselves up.

not all of them were so sluggish though, besides the storm predictor, there were two other people who seemed to be doing just fine.

a blonde haired man who was lying on a hamock and a older black haired man who's apple was apparently too sour for him.

you of course were fine as well, perched atop your stack of boxes, that even in the treacherous storm you kept perfectly balanced ; away from all the swirling bodies and throw up.

at least I know some people can hold their own around here.

the captian seemed to know so too, because soon enough you and the three other men were called too the helm room for interrogation.

❝ right then, go down the line and tell me your names. ❞  the pinkish man spoke.

the green haired boy went first. ❝  I'm Gon! ❞ 

❝ I am Kurapika ❞ 

the black haired man followed suit. ❝ the names Leorio ❝ 

❝ [ Name ] ❞ introductions weren't your thing.

❝  good, great. now tell me why is it you all want to become hunters? ❞ the pink man asked confidently, fully expecting the four of you to answer.

❝  Oi, you can't just expect us to tell you our reasons for being here so easily-don't you think that's a little invasive? Plus you're not even a examiner, why should you know. ❞ 

Leorio who you assumed like the rest of them was skeptical of the captains reasoning for asking this; didn't plan on answering.

although I don't see why not, there isn't much good that comes out of not answering either--you were  sure he brought us here for a reason. plus this is his ship, we should be respectful.

the captian shook his head and opened his mouth to answer but couldn't speak before the little boy interrupted him.

❝  I'll answer you ❞  he said excitedly. ❝ My dad is a Hunter! I left Whale Island to understand why he wanted so much too become a Hunter so much ❞ 

a flash of recognition blinked across the sailors face before he nodded his head, waiting for the rest of us too follow suit.

❝  Hey kid! ❞  it was Leorio speaking again. ❝  You're not supposed to answer his question, that's the rules-everybody knows that ❞ 

Gon looked confused. ❝ Why? ❞ 

he didn't get to answer. you figured it was your turn.

❝ | want to explore, I'm an explorer-it's my duty as a human being to see what amazing things the world has to offer! ❞  you chirped, both hands on your hips in a very confident manner.

Gon's eyes trailed to your figure and he smiled, you were alot more gusty than he imagined.

❝ Hey not you too! ❞  Leorio whined.

❝  well for one I, agree. ❞ Kurapika glared, crossing his arms in defiance. ❝ I see no apparent reason I should tell any of you as to why I want to be a Hunter, and even if I were too answer I would be exposing me deepest secrets...Im so mysterious and broody...blah blah blah ❞ 

The captain shook his head in a disappointed manner and you thought that was the end of it untill he said this.

❝ so the two of you don't mind being right here and now is that what im hearing? ❞ 

damn, told you so.

❝ oi, katsuo tell the examination board we have two more dropouts ❞ 

looks of surprise flashed across their faces and Leorio began to speak once more. ❝ So what you mean to say is..."

❝ What you haven't figured it out yet? The hunter exam has already begun ! ❞ 

note ;; I skiped over the boring parts or narrated them exactly how they were in the anime, I know, dont kill me.

[missjanjie]

Tell Me I'm Okay, Jasmine | Jasya

Title: Tell Me I'm Okay, Jasmine Summary: Jasmine is a wedding planner that cares deeply about the happiness and marital success of her clients. So, when she realizes something is just not right with one of her brides-to-be, she does what she needs to do to remedy the issue... even if it's a bit unorthodox Word Count: 1591 Relationship(s): Jasmine Kennedie/Daya Betty (with a side of Robin/Aura) Rating: T

This is for the fic exchange @junosjukebox and @themetaluna set up, and I was thrilled to get @petitmonde especially as a fellow jasya appreciator. I genuinely enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it <3

Read on Ao3

-

“I know she’s home,” Jasmine murmured after her second round of knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell didn’t bring her client out. Concerned, she fished out the spare key that she had been permitted to use and let herself in, calling out, “Daya?” as she rounded the corridor. 

As it turned out, Daya was well within earshot, but once Jasmine looked at her, she realized that it wouldn’t have made a difference. As a wedding planner, she found it imperative to connect with her clientele, and she found that despite butting heads in the beginning, they had formed a solid connection. If she were being honest, it was one of the deeper connections she had with a client, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. With that in mind, it was clear this wasn’t the Daya she had been working with for the past eight months. 

Daya sat motionless on the couch, eyes glazed over with a far-off expression. Her face was paler than her usual fair complexion and dark circles had started to form under her eyes. It was as if she was there physically, but nothing more. It was only the familiar vanilla scent in Jasmine’s perfume and the clacking of her heels that startled her back into reality. “Hey.”

Jasmine assessed the scene in front of her – scattered invitation samples, wedding binder open with a myriad of post-its and annotations over the visible pages, leaves and petals of fake flowers everywhere from the dog’s bed to Daya’s hair. To call a spade a spade, she was a hot mess. “I would ask if you’re okay, but I think I have my answer,” she remarked as she brushed a few petals aside before joining her on the couch. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

There was a long, tense silence before she answered. “It feels like there’s something fundamentally wrong with me, you know? Like, was I sick the day of school they teach you how to be a normal person?” She sighed heavily and reclined against the couch, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Am I okay, Jasmine? You’re unbiased – just tell me I’m okay.” 

At her core, she knew exactly what Daya was feeling; the feeling had hit her twice in her life – once when she faced her gender dysphoria head-on, and the next when she had to come out all over again as a lesbian. She had long suspected the cracks in Daya’s relationship ran deeper than they appeared, but now she started to put together why. She leaned over, placing a hand on her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re okay,” she promised, holding eye contact as she spoke. “Does this have to do with Kyle?” 

Daya tensed up and swallowed hard. “I keep waiting for the excitement about getting married to hit. I have fun planning it with you, but when I think about going into the church and walking down the aisle, doing all of these things we’re working on… I just feel numb.” She had previously written off these feelings as mere displeasure towards marrying in a church after caving to the pressure of her future in-laws. 

Jasmine chewed on her lip. There was no easy way to say ‘I think you’re a lesbian’ to someone you’ve known for less than a year. “When you think about why you love him, what comes to mind?” Having been in the wedding planning business for nearly five years, she knew the questions to ask to get couples to reflect on their relationship. Sometimes she would joke that she could take up couples’ counseling as a side hustle. But she never had to ask for this reason before. 

“He’s safe,” Daya mused, “when I’m with him, the world feels calm.”

“Are you attracted to him?” she asked.

“He treats me well.”

Jasmine arched her brow. “That’s not what I asked,” she replied, then asked again more pointedly. “Are you attracted to him? Does he turn you on? Get you wet? Make you c–”

“Jesus Christ, Jas!” Daya sputtered, her face flushed red. Normally, she was the one making off-the-cuff sexual remarks that made others clutch their pearls, leaving her all the more flustered. But, after a moment, she conceded, “No, to… all of that.” 

Again, Jasmine was left with a precarious choice to make. Then, she perked up with an idea. “I’d like you to come with me to my next client if you’re not busy with…” she gestured at the coffee table, “that.”

She mulled it over for a moment before deciding that taking a break from her self-imposed chaos would do her some good. Besides, she had grown to enjoy spending as much time with Jasmine as she could. “Sure, just give me some time to make myself presentable.”

As Daya was getting up, her dog jumped up into Jasmine’s lap, leading her to cheerfully reply, “Take your time!” as she pet him. 

—

After a ten-minute drive, they made it to Jasmine’s next clients. Once there, Jasmine gave a brief introduction of the couple – Robin and Aura, dating for three years, engaged for four months, wedding set for roughly a year ahead. Then they went into the living room where, like Daya, they had binders and samples covering the majority of the coffee table. But unlike her, there appeared to be some basic organization. 

At first, Daya didn’t understand why she was there. The couple was nice, they seemed to have some interesting ideas, but she felt out of place. But as the session progressed, she started to notice something – the way the two women interacted with each other, and with Jasmine. They were equally enthusiastic, offering input and listening to each other, and most noticeably, they were affectionate with each other. She saw them holding each other, gentle touches, quick stolen kisses and her mind started reeling. 

 “Daya?”

She blinked rapidly. “Hm?” 

“I asked which color scheme you thought looked better,” Jasmine replied, pointing to two sets of color swatches. 

“Oh, um…” She looked at the swatches, brows furrowed. “I like this dark teal, it stands out in the right way with the other colors.” 

The other three women nodded in agreement, the session continuing for the rest of the hour. “Do you wanna go get coffee?” Jasmine offered to Daya as they got back in her car.

“Sure,” she nodded as she buckled in, almost instantly gazing distantly out the window in a silence rarely associated with her personality. “They looked so happy,” she murmured with a hint of envy in her tone.

“Well, they are, that’s why they’re getting married,” she pointed out as she pulled into a parking spot, then turned to the taller woman. “Are you happy?”

This time, the silence was deafening. Every word she tried to utter got lodged in her throat until she finally forced out, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

All the tact and carefulness Jasmine had employed throughout the afternoon suddenly escaped her grasp as she blurted out, “Because you’re gay!” Realizing her mistake, she quickly attempted to backpedal. “I just… I mean… You seem so unhappy with him, you said it yourself that he doesn’t satisfy you, you couldn’t give me a concrete reason as to why you’re even with him, other than–”

“My sister is gay.” The revelation brought Jasmine’s rambling to a grinding halt. “She came out when she was nineteen and my parents threw her out. They’ve been working on repairing their relationship over the years, especially after she eloped with her wife, but I don’t think it’ll ever be the same. They don’t look at her the same, there’s this layer of disgust hidden under fake smiles.”

Jasmine nodded as she listened, opening her mouth to reply, but promptly shutting it when she realized Daya was still mid-explanation. 

“Crystal was the golden child. I was fifteen when she left and all of a sudden, I got all the attention and praise I’d always wanted. So when some guy asked me out that didn’t seem like he would murder me in my sleep, I just went with it. And I’ve been going with it for over four years.”

“So…”

She sighed. “Yes, Jasmine, I’m gay. You are now one of the three people that know. My sister and her wife have been sworn to secrecy. My only other option is to be alone.”

“No,” the blonde took her hand and squeezed it until Daya met her eyes, “your other option is to be happy.” 

“How am I supposed to be happy if I’m disappointing my family?” 

“Because you’ll finally stop disappointing yourself. Look, I’m not gonna pretend it was easy coming out as gay or trans, but I wouldn’t take back that choice for anything. Yes, I lost some family and friends, but I found people who care for me as I am. You will too – you have your sister, her wife… You have me.”

Daya cracked a small smile. “Even if I’m not paying you?” she asked, absentmindedly stroking her thumb over the back of Jasmine’s hand. 

She laughed. “How about you get the coffee and we’ll take it from there?”

“Fair enough,” she hummed. Then, as casually as she could, added, “Then I can tell you about the things that do turn me on.”

Jasmine hit her arm and laughed as they got out of the car. There was the Daya she had first met. Or better yet, this was the real Daya she was meeting for the first time.

[nirikeehan]

"aftersome adj. astonished to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today — which makes your long and winding path feel fated from the start, yet so unlikely as to be virtually impossible." for Thaliaaaa perhaps?

Okay, listen. This one is weird, but maybe I'm planning a Dragon Age/Curse of Strahd crossover and sometimes you just wanna smush two blorbos from two different pieces of media together and see what they do. Like introducing cats.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1202

Metrion belongs to the incredible Curse of Strahd: Twice Bitten podcast which, as far as I can tell, has absolutely no fanfic to its name. Until now I guess 🤷‍♀️

---

 “Sit, and we can make you presentable, yeah?” 

Thalia sits. The cottage is ramshackle and abandoned, one of many in this desolate Nevarran backwoods, the misty, wild place known as Barovia. 

“If he knows you by the tattoo,” the man says, “we can take away the tattoo, easy peasy.”

He’s a strange man, the one whose company she has found herself in. Young like her, she thinks, with tan skin and dark hair. He used an affected posh accent she saw through right away, which he has since dropped. What remains — a cockney reminiscent of Free Marcher peasants, is more authentic. He speaks in a nervous mumble almost always. There are times she thinks him selfish — when they fought wolves together on the road he dove for the bushes and shot timidly with a crossbow — but others, like now, she detects a hint of what could be compassion. 

“Did you always want to be a magician?” Thalia asks, eying the array of stage makeup he sets out on a rotting table. 

He shrugs, not looking at her. “You do what you’re good at, right?”

“I suppose.” Thalia chews her lip. “But what I do and what you do seem a little different. I could never just travel around, doing magic tricks for entertainment.” 

Metrion smirks. “Why not? Cause you’re a highborn lady?” The posh accent is back, mocking her own inflection. He reaches out, takes her chin. “Here, look this way, love.” 

His fingers are long and thin, hands covered by black gloves that must be needed in this constant damp chill. She frowns at an odd patch of magenta poking out between sleeve and glove on his wrist. Thalia is forced to look away, staring deep into his unsettling yellow eyes. 

“It’s not that,” she says as he scrutinizes her complexion. “In my neck of the woods, real mages weren’t allowed to roam free at all.” 

“You sayin’ I’m not a real mage?” Metrion shoots back, feigning hurt. 

Thalia tries not to roll her eyes. “You’re an actor, that’s clear as day.”

“Can it only be one or the other?” A twitchy smile. He has long incisors; one is inlaid with gold and seems to wink at her in the dim light. 

“Are you inviting me to join your act?” Thalia asks playfully.

“Yeah. Definitely. We can be Metrion the Magnificent and Thalia the— the—”

“Thrilling?” she supplies. 

“Yeah. I like that.” He frowns at his makeup kit. “Right. You’re paler’n me, so I’m gonna have to do some blending, but I should be able to manage it. Gonna need you to hold real still, though.” 

Apprehension threads through Thalia. She remembers the day, many years ago, she had to sit very still for another man, one who had needles and ink instead of sponges and pigment. “—Won’t hurt you,” Metrion adds quickly, as if sensing her discomfort. “I’m a real pro with this stuff, I promise.”

“Yes. Of course.” Thalia shifts in her seat, wringing her hands. Her palms begin to sweat. She thinks of the long series of bizarre events that led her to this moment, in the hands of someone who should, by all accounts, be a charlatan. Yet the touches on her cheekbone and brow are light and practiced, and against her will she relaxes. 

“It’s quite a piece of art, this ink,” he murmurs, perhaps to put her further at ease, but Thalia only tenses. He blinks. “Sorry. Meant it as a compliment.” 

“I know,” Thalia breathes. “It’s not you.”

“I’m a bit of an amateur tattooist myself, but ah, never did nothing like this.” 

With each swipe of his sponge, Thalia imagines the tattoo disappearing from her face, leaving her right eye unmarred for the first time in a decade. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.”

Metrion’s hand freezes. “Seriously?”

“I mentioned that in my neck of the woods, mages couldn’t just roam free.” She chews her lip. “We were confined to a place called a Circle of Magi. This was the security measure in mine, to make sure we didn’t escape.” 

“Shit.” A long silence. “You really ought to come to the Sword Coast, we don’t have nothing like that there.” 

Thalia lets out a slow breath. “It’s all right. Things have changed there, somewhat. Mages have more freedom now, though there’s always reminders of the old ways.” 

“Yeah. I get that.” Metrion continues dabbing and swiping at her face, brow furrowed with a troubled line between them. “And I know a thing or two, about things done to you against your will.” 

“Do you?” Thalia says skeptically. “You don’t… strike me as a man who would stick around for that sort of punishment.” She pauses. “No offense.” 

Metrion bows his head over the makeup kit, eyes obscured by the hair falling into his face. Peeking out from the headband he wears are wisps of hair that shine white in the torchlight. He’s awfully young to be going grey, she thinks, but then again, she can’t speak to the life he’s lived, no more so than he can for her. 

“’S that a polite way of calling me a coward?” The hurt in his voice, this time, is real. 

Thalia tries to protest, but he cuts her off. “No, no, maybe you’re right, a little bit. Or a lot. I dunno. Fuck. I never wanted to be in this place. It’ll wear you down, break you, faster’n you can run. We been told the devil knows our every move, that it’s all a game to him. That we’ll stay alive as long as we keep things interesting. But I dunno if painting your face would make much of a difference in the long run, if he’s got an eye on ya.” 

Metrion sounds mournful, apologetic, as if trying to break bad news as gently as he can. Thalia reaches out, with a pang of sympathy, and touches his elbow through his long overcoat. He freezes, dares to meet her gaze only briefly before averting it again. 

“He must have a weakness,” Thalia says. “Everyone does.” How can she explain to him that she once stood down a man who would be god? What’s one more vampiric tyrant, in the face of someone like Corypheus? 

“Dunno about him,” Metrion mumbles, sighing. 

“Still,” Thalia insists, trying to smile, “I appreciate that you’re trying.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. ’S all we can do, I guess, in the long run. Lie down and die, or try to live.” He shakes his head as if to clear it and snaps shut his makeup kit. “On that cheery note — you’re all set, love.” 

“Thank you,” Thalia says softly. “Have you got a looking glass I can borrow? I’m… curious.” 

He gives her a small hand mirror caked with layers of dust and pigment. Thalia squints past it, to the pallid face beyond. Her cheeks look gaunter than she remembers, her eyes a ghostly blue. But the tattoo has vanished as if it never existed, and she turns her face this way and that in wonder. 

“Maybe you are a real magician after all,” she whispers, and he looks at her with eyes so raw she worries he might cry.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A bunch of shorter ones today, but first!

We posted two top-centric hc lists yesterday, and I somehow completely forgot to mention Jack in either of them 🥳 I am so sorry to Jack Nation and to the goodest of boys himself, so at the end of this post there are hcs about him on both of the yesterday’s topics… (I’ll also add them to the respective posts, obviously)

This weird oopsie aside, here are the replies:

feverish-dove asked:

THANK YOUUUUUUUU♥️ i don’t think you realize how happy that made me. i love speedpaints but when an artist takes the time to break down what they did so i dont have to try (and usually fail) to do so myself it just goes brrrrrrr<3 im soooooo happy rn. you and katsu are awesome

You are so very welcome!! ♥️

I am very happy that the post was useful and any of my explanations were cohesive enough to understand something. And I really love talking about my art process, so thank you for your question!

Anonymous asked:

I just wanna say i'm in love with genderswap twst headcanons and arts... Thank you for sharing a full course meal-

You’re very welcome, Anon! I am super happy that you’re enjoying these. Like I’ve already said, drawing and writing these are a treat and a national holiday for me lol

Anonymous asked:

I’ll break Idia, you say? Well, I did always want to wreck him… 😏

Anonymous asked:

You can't tell me what to do 😠

I'm swallowing your art whole as you speak

Anons are misbehaving… Anons are getting wild 😳 breaking Idia left and right and not chewing stuff properly!

I love the chaos.

Anonymous asked:

I also have an Idia plush and he’s cheeked up.

His clothes sold out though so he’s naked. I put a Nagito jacket on him to hide his shame i.e. his butt.

Damn Anon this is even better though. Imagine Idia with a Nagito jacket barely covering his naked body. This image is doing something with my brain.

Anonymous asked:

HELP do you have any thoughts on azurido??? its been on my mind since i saw Floyd say Azul (probably) wouldnt mind keeping him as a pet for winter (?) break

Indeed, Anon, here is the tag!

Oh we love that line from Floyd lol This whole scene happens so fast and feeds us with so much stuff that it takes time to process.

Azul absolutely wouldn’t mind keeping him as a pet… it’s upsetting that Riddle probably wouldn’t be much of a help at the Lounge (the main reason for Azul to keep pets lol) but knowing how much Riddle’s existence wounds Azul’s precious ego? He would get super smug with Riddle temporarily being his lap cat. Or a little chihuahua.

Anonymous asked:

I’m not sure why but I would love the idea of Epel talking about how girls are weak and then getting his butt handed to him by a girl in Magical Shift. The competitive, tomboy in me would be grinning like a maniac.

Epel absolutely needs to have a girl kick his ass, and it’s weird that he even needs this to happen to realise that “girly” doesn’t mean “weak”; just look at his meemaw and how scary she can get. I’m sure Epel’s mom isn’t any better lol

Anonymous asked:

I had a sudden thoughts last night

So coway au

But it's just Riddle riding Floyd in a cowboy outfit

Thoughts? 👀👀👀

Anonymous asked:

yeehaw 🤠

I wonder… if you two are the same Anon… maybe not. Maybe we just mentally entered a saloon somehow and now I am a sheriff.

To answer the first Anon, this would be insanely hot, and I feel like if Riddle is drunk out of his mind enough, he could do that. He wouldn’t succeed though, because riding a horse is one thing, but riding Floyd while being completely drunk is totally different lol But it’s the attempt that counts. Floyd is going to be very entertained either way. Or annoyed, you never know with him.

Alright, so JackJack hcs.

strap hcs for fem tops or if they even use them lol.

Jack could’ve been very good at it if someone made her use it, but I feel like she thinks that this is too obscene of a thing to do. It’s not like she’s prudish, but wearing a strap is a bit too far for her. Even though someone would probably look at her and think that it looked very good on her…

Based on that one post about the bottoms getting creamed up inside how would the tops react if their partners are demanding/begging for them to cum inside them?

Jack – he is probably the type to start thinking about pulling out when he starts to feel his knot growing, you know, being responsible and stuff, but if he hears his partner begging or demanding him to cum inside, his brain would shut down completely and he would go even deeper than before and fill his partner to the brim :( He would be very embarrassed of himself afterwards.

[clanofjones]

Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter Eleven

Ao3

<- Previous

Next ->

Chapter Eleven: Two's a Company, Three is a Crime

TW: Homophobic language and semi-graphic descriptions of murder.

A/N: Co-written with @theosb0rnway :)

Casey Jones never took the day off, that was a fact set deep in stone. If evil never slept, then neither did she, but this was different. 

He needed a day to process the idea that his boyfriend was not just a corpse in an icy coffin, but a being, a SPIRIT, that only Casey could see. He slept mostly, residing on top of the ice box while Raph watched her from afar, hesitant to make a move and not wanting to scare or piss off his lover. He didn't want to be double dead. 

The next day was far more productive, and Casey seemed to be in a much better mood after his almost day-long rest. The duo sat at the little coffee table in the middle of the room, Casey writing down ideas for his next moves against Shredder while Raph played with his ghostly sais. 

Who knew that whatever you had on your person also went with you to the next life? Raph didn't know much, or used to care much, about death, thinking he was some invincible force that even when battling Oroku Saki as Super Shredder could not be defeated, but now, here he was, thoroughly defeated. 

He was dead, and he was spiritually attached to the prettiest lunatic on planet Earth whose only current goal was to kill Super Shredder, not something normal like taking a shower or eating a meal that wasn't packaged. It was an issue, sure, but then again, to Hamato Raphael, Casey Jones was the definition of putting the 'hot' in psychotic. 

Said hot lunatic was actually being productive, scribbling some ideas down that Raphael surprisingly approved of. 

Ways to get that bastard's attention: 

Don't? Nah, that's no fun 

Bomb the old mansion 

Karai? 

Take down Tiger Face 

Fish Face 

Wolf Dude 

Beat the shit outta Hun! 

There was a giant scribbled star by the last one, making it officially Casey's favorite choice, despite it loosely having to deal with Shredder. Off to the side, there were little drawings of Casey using various weapons to kill Shredder and his Foot goons, which Raphael tried to ignore as best he could. Then something else popped into the scheming vigilante's mind, a way to get not only Shredder's attention, but the entire city's. A way to make himself truly known. It was a... different idea, but Casey knew she had to throw it out there. For all he knew, Raph might actually like it. 

"Hey, Raphie?" 

"Yeah, babe?"

"...What 'bout goin' after a cop?"

"A cop?" Raph didn't seem angry, which was a good sign. 

"Yeah! Get us actual attention from all the cameras and reporters and shit cause killin' the Foot ain't doin' nothin'." 

"Wait, you wanna... kill a cop?" Casey looked at Raph like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. 

"Duh! Hurting one won't do anything!" 

"Casey, I agree that it'll get us the attention we need, but if we do that, it's gonna get us attention from EVERYWHERE. We're gonna have to be way more careful about what we do and how we're see- how you're seen." 

"So you're... not mad?" Is that really what Casey was focused on right now? 

"'Course I'm not mad, Case! Cops are assholes-" 

"Damn right!" 

"But we also gotta focus on keeping you safe. I know you can pull off the job, but the hardest part is making sure whatever they send after you doesn't find you." 

"I can handle it, Raphie. I hate you always rainin' on my parade, sayin' I can't do things like you can. Not like this is my first time dealing with pigs." 

"I'm not 'raining on your parade', babe, I'm just scared you can't do this by yourself." 

"Casey Jones wo-" 

"I know, I know! 'Casey Jones works better alone', but you can't work at all if you're caught, or worse, killed!" Casey sighed, but from behind her mask, he looked like he was in thought, chewing at her bottom lip. 

"Alright, I'll listen to you, just this once. So whaddya think I should do after I off the guy? Or lady? Or... what's a word for not a dude or a girl?" 

Raph did a facepalm. "It's just a cop, Case, Jesus Christ." 

"Yeah, you're right. But what should I do after I off the pig?" 

"Lay low. Before you do it, we should go out one last time for food and supplies, stuff that'll last us at least a month or so."

"A month? Hope they got those dumb little number puzzles at the store cause I'm gonna need 'em." 

"Sudokus, and yeah. Ya know ya' got me too, babe." 

"I know, but now that I can't pin ya down, I've gotta find other ways to keep busy." 

Raph swore he could hear Casey smirk and blushed a little, not that he could tell.

"I'm gonna need paint too, and I might... I'm gonna try to stop by my place, get clothes, money stash, firepower, all that." 

"Alright." 

"Raph?" 

"Yeah?" 

"...C-Can I let her see me? She's good at keepin' secrets, she doesn't know 'bout what we do, there's no way they could tie me to her if we're careful-" 

"Yeah. Tell her Mr. Turtle says he loves her, okay?" "Course, baby. I know she loves you too, a lot. Oh god, she has no idea that you-" 

Raph put a hand on Casey's shoulder and grimaced at her natural flinch. "Sorry. Look, don't tell her, it'll break her little heart and nobody wants that." 

"I wasn't going to, I'm not gonna hurt my baby sis like that, she's everything I've got left! A-and I left her all alone with Arnold... oh FUCK ME!" Casey slammed her fist down on the table and Raph could hear her crying underneath the mask. 

"It'll be okay, Case, I promise." 

"Will it though?" 

"If we get it done right, yeah. It'll be fuckin awesome." 

"You promise?" 

"I promise, dumbass." 

"Thanks, Raphie boy." 

"No problem, Casey baby." Raph put his arms around Casey, and even though she couldn't exactly do the same, he still tried his best. Casey broke the "hug" standing up slowly and stretching herself out. 

"Ugh! That fuckin table's so low, it's more of a pain in my back than Donnie!" Raph snorted, standing up through the table. 

"So where to, master planner? 

"First thing's first!" She smiled through the mask, "I need the rest my gear." It seems Raph had more experience breaking into Casey's house than she did, knowing how to climb onto the ledge and unlock the window so they could slip inside. Casey's room hadn't changed one bit, if you don't count the smell being fifty times worse. Given that it was 1 am, Arnold was fast asleep on the couch, and poor Angel was in the room right next to Casey's, no doubt breathing in that godawful smell and wondering when her brother would come back. 

Casey opened the door to the living room, sneaking quietly past Arnold and into Angel's room. He closed the door behind her, softly speed walking over to her little sister's bed. "Angel?" He ran a gloved hand through her hair and watched as the young girl opened her eyes. She seemed scared, and Casey realized it was because of the mask. "It's me, Ange, it's me!" He flipped the mask up to show off his real face for the first time in months. No paint, no skulls, no nothing, just Casey Jones. 

"CA'EY!" Angel whisper-screamed, getting up and jumping into her brother's arms for a hug. 

"Shhh! Gotta be quiet, lil sis! Don't want Dad to hear me, kay?" The girl nodded, a huge grin still stuck on her face. 

"I miss you, Ca'ey! Miss you lot!" 

"Me too, Angel, me too." He started to cry, Angel's grin dropping as she heard her sister start to sob. 

"Why you cryin', Ca'ey? Don' be sad!" 

"I'm not sad, I'm happy! I'm cryin' cause I love you, kiddo. I'm so sorry I left you here, I didn't want to, I didn't mean to, you don't deserve this!" 

They stayed like that for another few minutes, hugging while Casey cried, before Angel asked, "Where you go, big bro? Can I come too?" 

Casey shook his head. "No way. Casey had to go somewhere far away to keep you safe, and I gotta go back again until I'm done with my job." 

"Wha' job, Ca'ey?" 

"Somebody hurt me really bad and so I'm gonna hurt them really bad too. Remember how I taught you that? If somebody hurts you-" 

"You hurt ‘em too!" 

"Exactly! That's exactly right, baby sis!" 

Angel giggled, smiling up at her big sister. "When you gonna come back?" 

"Soon, Angie, soon. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I can be and then I'll never leave again! I pinky swear!" 

"You pinky swear?"

"Always." They locked pinkies and bumped foreheads, making Casey's promise something he could no longer break, not that she ever intended to break it. 

"Ca'ey? Where's Mista Turtle?" Casey's breath hitched and he quickly looked behind him to see Raph standing there, silently staring at him and nodding. 

"He's... he's back at my safe place, he's doin' alright. Want me to say hi to him for ya?" 

"Yeah! Mista Turtle gonna come back too, Ca'ey?" 

"Of course he is! We're both gonna come back as soon as we can!" He hated lying to Angel about that, but it was the best he could do for now. He couldn't bear to ever tell her the truth, it was too much. 

"He told me to tell you that he loves you VERY much and that he misses your stupid tea parties." 

"They're not stupid!" 

"Hey, tell that to him, not me! I love 'em!" 

"Yay! And I love YOU Ca'ey!" 

"Me too, lil sis." He paused. "Hey, Angel? You gotta promise me something now, alright?" 

"What is it, Ca'ey?" She bounced up and down on her bed with excitement. 

"If you see me on the TV, or hear about me from the bad people in blue, you CAN NOT tell them anything about me, okay baby sis?" 

Angel nodded seriously. "Ca'ey in trouble?" 

"Big BIG trouble." 

"Uh oh! I keep Ca'ey safe from evil people! I help you, big bro!" 

Casey smiled, a fresh wave of tears dripping down his face. "Thank you SO much, Angel, I love you, okay baby?" 

"I love you too Ca'ey! So SO SO SO MUCH!" 

"You go back to sleep now, okay?" 

"Okay... Are you gonna sleep too, Ca'ey?"

"In a little bit, yeah. I gotta do a few things first, but then I'm gonna go back and get some sleep with Mr. Turtle!" 

"Yay! Casey look sleepy, Casey need sleep!" 

"I will, Ange, I will. Can you go back to sleep okay or you need me here for a bit?" 

"Can Ca'ey stay?" 

"Of course. I'll always stay for you, Angel Jones." He sat down next to the bed as Angel tucked herself into the covers. 

"Love you, Ca'ey..." 

"Love you too, Angel." It took Angel about three minutes to fall asleep with Casey rubbing her back. The vigilante stood up, slipped his mask back on, and walked back into his own room, Raph following quickly behind her. 

"Ya gonna get some sleep now, Case?" 

"No. Gotta do a few more things." 

"You heard Angel-" 

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." 

He grabbed a giant plastic bag from the corner of the room and started cleaning everything out. All the rotting food was thrown out the window, the clothes and weapons stuffed into a bag, posters yanked off the walls and shoved in as well. By the time the bag was full, the room looked like it had barely been occupied. 

"Let's go, Raphie. We got what we came for." 

"Whatever you say, Case." 

The duo made their separate jumps out the window and fled into the night. Now all they needed was just to get the rest of the supplies for the murder. Ah, Walmart. 

The place where you can go at 2 am and nobody, nobody, notices you, no matter how out of the ordinary you look. At least, the security doesn't notice. If Casey got a few odd looks from some equally creepy old ladies, she sure didn't give a flying fuck about it. 

As she picked out the biggest package of Sour Patch Kids he could find and put it in her basket, he noticed a little girl staring at him from behind her father's leg at the other end of the aisle. 

He wondered why the hell a little girl was in Walmart at 2 am, but once again, it was none of his business. He smiled and gave her a little wave, watching her gasp and wave back. 

"Casey, you don't need that." 

"Bite me, Raphie." He muttered under her breath. He walked past the little girl and gave her a wink from under the mask, smiling as she heard her talking to her very disinterested father. 

"Daddy! Daddy! The boy with the cool mask waved at me!"

 "Uh huh. Whatever you say, sweetie." 

Casey loved being herself. As she suspected, even with her blood covered clothes and dirtied skull mask, the dead eyed cashier didn't even seem to notice him. He'd just bought all the supplies for a molotov cocktail, homemade grenades, war paint, and some candy just for funsies and nobody cared!

Raph was right, stocking up on things before his next hit was totally paying off! Raph had been muttering to himself the whole time, Casey tuning him out as best she could. His negative attitude was totally burning a hole in his bad girl persona! 

He forked over some of the money she stole from the Foot goons to the cashier, who gave him a dead-eyed stare and accepted the bills. Casey doubted she would have spared a second glance if Raph, in all his ghostiness, had been visible to others, not only a mutant turtle, but also a semi-transparent ghost. Then again, the lady did work in customer service at Walmart in New York, she figured not much would surprise this lady. 

“Have a nice day– NIGHT! I meant night,” the cashier said, automatically course-correcting, eyes widening briefly as she blinked from the daze that must come with working such a long shift. 

“You too,” Casey said as she accepted some bags and exited. A soft ‘whoosh’ of air hit his face as she stepped out of the sliding glass doors with as much vindication as one could when one stepped over a door threshold. Idly, he realized he should probably get her hands on a car. Or at least figure out some mode of transportation other than his own gear. 

Shifting the bags into one hand as she walked into an alley, with Raph bobbing around her head, Casey fired his grappling hook. 

It caught in a more stable part of the ladder, in contrast to the part of the ladder close to the ground, which was mangled and bent all out of shape.

Casey kept to the edge, so that he ascended in a vertical climb to her stomping grounds. She had to fire her grappling hook twice, the second time impaling deep the ceiling of the small room he and Raph resided in, only ascending again after three light tugs confirmed that the brick wasn’t about to cave, and send Casey to an early grave. 

Any time before Oroku Saki’s grave was far too soon, she decided, spreading his newly bought wares on the floor. Investing in an actual table (or at least not a floor that was both freezing and almost definitely infested with any number of roaches and other bugs to make Raph die twice) wouldn’t be a bad idea either. 

She dumped the bags down on the ground, grabbing the bag he'd taken from his home and setting it down next to the first one and sitting down on the ground next to the coffee table. 

"C’mon Raphie! Don't be a stranger!" The turtle was hanging out towards the window, away from the short excuse for a table, slightly pissed that Casey had lied to Angel's face about getting a good night sleep. 

He begrudgingly walked over, not wanting to deny his lover, almost there when his foot fell through the floor. He thought he'd fixed this already! The angry terrapin could hear Casey's cackle as he pulled his foot from the floor, a growl leaving his throat. 

"Oh shut up." Casey stopped laughing for once, her face morphing into one of concern. 

"You okay, Raph?" Uh oh. Not Raphie, just Raph. That meant he was serious, and serious Casey Jones could sometimes be a scarier creature than the angry, insane, or even pissed sides of Casey Jones. 

"I'm fine, Case." 

"Raph. I know you're lyin', knucklehead. What's going on?" 

"Why'd you lie to Angel about sleeping?" 

"I didn't!" 

"Yeah, ya' clearly did!" 

"No way, man! As soon as I kill a cop, I'm coming back here and we can sleep on the ice box together! The two of us! It's really comfy once ya get adjusted to it!" Raph shook his head. 

At least Casey was serious about going to bed, that was a start. She still had a long way to go in terms of mental health, and if he was finally trying to get better, Raph wasn’t about to say no, even if it was sleeping on that godforsaken freezer box that his own fucking corpse was being kept in. 

"Alright. I'll sleep on the fuckin’ death box." Casey glared. 

"Don't call it that, asshole!" 

"Hey, my body box, my choice." Casey looked confused for a moment before shrugging. 

"I don't think the saying goes like that, but whatever, dude." Her face softened. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Raphie. I didn't mean it, I promise."

"It's alright, Casey, I get it. You like it cause it's me in there, and you have your own way of coping. I should respect that. I DO respect it." 

"Thanks. That um... means a lot, babe." Raph could see a hint of an actual, genuinely sweet Casey Jones smile, taking the moment to sit down next to him, cup her cheeks, and kiss him softly what would be her lips under the mask. Casey gasped before pressing her lips to the inside of the mask. 

God, did he miss kissing Raph the normal way, pinning him against a wall, making out slowly until both of them were left breathless. She was pulled out of her thoughts as Raph broke the kiss, setting a pair of pants haphazardly on her lap. "Here." He pulled out a Sharpie too, and the older boy was impressed at how well he could hold it. 

"Woah! You weren't kidding when you said you could hold shit, babe! Holy macaroni, you're good!" 

They shared a laugh, Casey getting to work on redecorating the old pair of ratty gray jeans. Recreating his clothing took about an hour and a half, two Sharpies, a pair of scissors, half a braincell shared between them both, and an old burner phone playing Casey's "Battle Songs for Fucking Up Bitches" playlist. 

Putting on the newly acquired corpse paint took them another hour, Casey insisting on putting the white paint on herself first before Raph saw his face. By the end of it, his entire face, ears, neck, and forearms were covered in elaborate designs Raph took his sweet time making and touching up. Casey put on the first pair of redesigned jeans, slipping on a black long sleeved shirt before adding his Insane Clown Posse "Hatchetman" shirt on top of that. 

Her gear followed, then Raph with the bandana, and finally, the turtle lowered the skull mask over his love's face, finally readying her for the best part of the night. 

"You look beautiful, Casey Jones." 

"Thanks, Raphael Tomato." 

"Hamato." 

"Tomato, Hamato!" They let out a giggle before Casey started towards the door, taking the regular way out the building for once. It was time to go out and take down one of the worst threats to society. 

It wasn't hard for her to find a cop car just sitting around on some random street far enough away from the hideout that he wouldn't be chased back. Casey smirked to himself seeing the guy eating a donut through the side window. She pulled out his spray can, shaking it, letting the black paint attach itself to the wall, starting her latest masterpiece. That ugly bastard in his car didn't like that at ALL. 

He made the show of flashing his lights before hurriedly getting out of his car, cuffs in hand. 

"Hey kid! Drop the can and put your hands in the air! You're under arrest for vandalizing private property!" 

Casey continued to spray the paint, humming some random tune as he went. 

"Hey! Kid! Can you hear me? Kid!" 

"Oh, I heard you alright. I just don't listen to people as low in this world as you." He laughed. "I don't listen to assholes as evil as you." 

"Kid, the only one doing evil is you." He walked over to Casey and grabbed him by his freshly painted arm, causing Casey to flinch and whip around, hitting the cop dead in the face with the spray can. 

"Fuck off, grease-hands! My boyfriend just worked for two hours on that shit and I ain't lettin' a no good pig ruin all his hard work!" 

The cop stumbled back, blood falling from his nose and mouth. "Alright, ya little faggot," he pulled out the gun from his holster. "No more Mr. Nice Guy." 

Casey ducked as the shots fired, pulling out her own gun and shooting the cop in the leg. Unlike him, she never missed his targets. The cop screamed, falling to the ground as Casey pulled out his hockey stick. 

"Aw! Looks like Mr. Not So Nice Guy couldn't even beat up a fag like me! So sad!" 

The hockey stick swung down once, twice, five times, ten, until the pig was officially down on the ground. Then Casey pulled out a knife, relishing the look of horror on the cop's face as she stepped on top of him, kneeling on his chest and taking off her mask.

"I'm not even gonna lie, this is gonna fuckin hurt! Well, this is what you get for trying to arrest a lady just for makin' his art!" The cop looked mildly confused, but that was replaced by a wave of horror as the knife pressed against his skin. 

Casey gave him a false sense of security for two seconds before lifting it up and slashing his throat with one solid motion. 

"Go to hell, fag-" The cop choked out, his eyes wide as Casey watched the life slowly leave him. 

"How's it feel be killed by a fag? Cause it sounds pretty good to me!" As his head finally met the street, Casey could hear cheering from above him, seeing Raph on the rooftop and waving. 

"Look, Raphie! I did it!" He sounded like a kindergartener showing off their latest art project to their mom. 

"I know! I'm so proud of you, babe! Now hurry up with that paint, will ya?" 

Casey didn't waste another second, spreading the dead man's blood all over his gloved fingers and using it as a paint of its own. She alternated between spray can and blood, finishing up in a few minutes before going back to the cop and wiping the smeared corpse paint off his right hand. Raph smiled from above, so glad Casey remembered his rule about leaving no trace. 

Before she left, Casey went over to the car, opening it with his not bloody hand, and grabbed the half eaten donut from on top of the middle console. She climbed up the ladder to where Raph was waiting, gazing down upon her finished masterpiece. 

"It's perfect!" 

"Is that really one you're going with?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Alright, I just didn't know you were gonna do it." 

"But you like it?" 

“Of course I like it, Case, I love it! Let's get outta here." They spend the whole way home singing and laughing, Casey reminding himself to wash the blood off her glove so that no one could trace that lowlife's murder back to him. Oh, it really was a good night after all. 

Turtles POV 

The news was the only thing played on the TV anymore, much to Mikey's dismay, but Donnie controlled the living room now, so the TV was technically in his domain. 

The team was all piled up on the benches, sitting down to watch the 10 o'clock news like it was the newest superhero movie, popcorn, pizza, and all. 

"This is Channel 5 news, I'm Theresa Merdir. Breaking news, cop murdered on 5th and Walnut, killer leaves behind a disturbing message to all. Warning, this story contains images of gore and violence. Viewer discretion is advised." 

The group all looked at each other with worried expressions, save for Mikey who was focused solely on the TV. He gasped as the images were shown, many of the dead cop's wounds, but then they flipped to another chilling sight. Written on the cop's face in his own blood was: ‘Look up’, and the camera did exactly that, showing Casey's boldest artwork yet. April let out a gasp of her own. "Oh my god, Donnie, is that-'' 

Donnie looked equally horrified, he could only nod and whisper "It is." 

In a combination of cop's blood and spray paint was Casey's signature hockey mask next to tall, bold graffiti letters that read one single bone chilling word: "Skullshot."

[ilovecupcakesandtea]

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson  Rating: NSFW 18+  Summary: Revelations and deep conversations a plenty....buckle up its about to get heavy. Word Count: 5,958  Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Commentary: Fun fact less than 18 hours ago this had no title and hadn't been proofread despite having been finished for almost a week....and yet chapter 5 is already done ready for next week! Thank you to @slipperygiraff for being amazing <3

Part One   Part two   Part three   Part five   Part six

"So of all the tattoo studios in Indy, Harrington happens to walk into yours at the one point you're there on your own?" Gareth asks standing in front of the open window, taking a cigarette from Eddie. 

"Yeah, just strolls right in. Luckily I had no appointments booked after so I could close up straight after I'd finished his ink." Eddie replied, smoking his own cigarette standing by the window next to Gareth. 

"And how was seeing him again? Can't have been easy, surely?" The younger guy asked cautiously. 

"It was weird man, he looks totally different, all punked out. He looks so good Gare, his hair is pink! Sides of it shaved, ripped black jeans, piercings. He got a fricking tattoo of a bat with nails in it, so metal." Eddie sighed remembering how good Steve had looked casually lying there being tattooed. 

"Calm down before you pop a boner in front of me, not done that since you we're like 13." Gareth laughed. "So did he ask why you left and did you tell him about J?" he asked softer. 

"Yeah he asked, I explained. Told him I needed out. Yeah he knows about J, they brought us over a couple drinks just after he told me he isn't straight" 

"I'm sorry what?!" Gareth coughed a lung full of smoke out in surprise. "Steve Harrington, THE Steve Harrington, ladies man Steve Harrington, King Steve. is gay?"

"He never out right said gay, just said he was far from straight is all." Eddie shrugged. 

"Man what are you going to do?" Gareth asked after a few minutes of silence. 

"No idea" Eddie whispered as he dragged a hand down his face and stumped his cigarette out.

There was a banging on Steve's door, just having made it downstairs when the banging began. He walked over and opened the door to find Robin, still in her PJs, who pushed past him as soon as the door was open enough. 

"You gonna tell me what was soooo important you couldn't tell me over the phone?" Robin demanded as she started looking through his fridge. 

"I got us food already. Let's take it to the coffee table and I promise to tell you everything." He said as he started handing her some of the junk food he had picked up on his way home the night before. 

Once all the food was laid out, they sat on the couch, legs crossed, facing each other. 

"Well go on then!" Robin demanded, mouth full of cheese puffs. 

"Well when I was walking to the show the other night I passed a tattoo shop so I went in late the next afternoon and you'll never…" he was interrupted by Robin grabbing his left hand, pulling it close to inspect his tattoo. 

"You got a tattoo!" She screamed so loud he was sure the neighbors could have heard her. "Wait, is that a robin on your bat? It's even got a little Scoops hat! Aw, Steve!" Robin beamed, pulling him in close for a hug and probably getting cheese dust all over the back of his shirt. 

"You'll never guess who it was that did it."

"It's too early for this and you didn't even make us coffee. You know I came over as soon as I woke up. Please don't actually make me guess." She sighed, shoving another cheese puff in her mouth. 

"It was Eddie." He watched as Robin's face slowly turned to shock and her mouth fell open, half chewed cheese puff visible. "Robs, gross. Come on. I get it but I don't really wanna see that ok?" He commented, reaching out a hand to her jaw and pushing it closed. 

"You're fucking joking right now! Holy shit! Ok and? Did you tell him how you feel? Is that why you got home so late?" Steve was very thankful that she had at least finished her food before speaking this time. 

"No Robin I didn't. I just couldn't. He did offer to explain over drinks. As much as him leaving hurt, I can't say I blame him. He wouldn't have had much of a life here besides us."

"That may be true but he still could have said something or left a note. Anything."

"I know. He apologized though. It sucks but I can forgive him."

"And you didn't tell him how you feel about him, why?"

"Because he's got someone now." He confessed, looking away from her to grab his bag of twizzlers. 

"I'm sorry." Robin whispered, putting her hand on his and giving a comforting squeeze. 

"It's alright. I shouldn't have waited to try and talk to him but he seems happy so that's good enough for me. I did get to meet them while we were at the bar. They were really nice. That's what he deserves, someone that treats him right."

"They?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Steve could feel himself perking up a bit with the conversation heading in that direction. "I didn't know that was a possibility. Apparently people use they them as gender neutral pronouns. J was also telling me about how they're genderqueer, said sometimes they feel like a woman, sometimes a man, and sometimes neither. I didn't even know that was a possibility, Robin!"

"Hmm, no, I didn't either." She mumbled around the cookie she'd grabbed, giving him a look that told him she was reading beyond what he was saying. Robin was good at that, knowing things that were in the back of his mind before he even acknowledged them. She just continued eating the cookies, choosing to let him get there on his own this time. 

Steve was not having an easy time processing everything that happened. Seeing Eddie again had just set him back. He'd started getting to a better place,really, but well now it was right back to square one. As if that wasn't enough, he had to go and find out about people being genderqueer, which was currently making him question so much about himself. Could life just go easy on him for once? One crisis at a time would be nice but of course that could never be his luck.   

Talking to Robin helped a little but there was only so much she could help. So Steve had decided to go for a little piercing therapy, getting the middle of his lip and nipples done. Robin had just rolled her eyes at him. She couldn't really be too mad at him, at least he'd taken her advice and gone to a professional instead of trying to do it himself again. 

The new piercings had helped for a bit, Steve was at least able to push Eddie far enough back in his mind to at least focus on the other crisis at hand. Could genderqueer fit some of the things he'd been feeling? Could he be? So many thoughts about things he was starting to look back on and notice. He really needed to talk to someone about this. For once Robin wasn't the answer but he knew who was. 

"Hello, J speaking, if you're trying to sell me something just hang up now" J answered the ringing phone with a sigh.

"Hey, it's Steve. I'm not bothering you at a bad time am I?"

"Hey you!! No not at all! I'm completely free. How can I help? Everything ok?" A cheery tone now in J's voice.

"Alright as it can be. I've been thinking a lot about the last time we talked. I know you said I could call but it's ok if you changed your mind or don't want to talk about it anymore." Steve couldn't help but be a little nervous. He'd really needed someone to talk to and sure J had said he could call but that didn't mean he didn't feel like he was bothering them. 

"Oh love, not at all. How is it I can help?" J asked, getting comfortable on the couch.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to tell me how you figured it out? What helped you?" What if he was asking questions that were too personal? He'd only just met J and they hadn't talked much. 

"How I figured out I was genderqueer you mean? Well I never thought I fitted the standard mold of a female, even from a young age. Dolls and barbies were never my thing all the time, but sometimes they really were. Sometimes pretty flowing dresses felt right and other times I'd rather have clawed my own skin off than wear one. But I also never really fit the mold of male either. Some days jeans and a t-shirt were what felt right and doing 'boy things' was amazing and other days that didn't feel right either. I spoke to an older friend a few years ago about it, tried one of their binders on and sat and cried in the mirror. Everything started to fit into place at that point." It took Steve a minute to process all J had said, thinking about how some of that fit his own feelings. 

"That uh… that makes a lot of sense actually. I just have been going through a lot lately and never knew to think about it that way. Guess I've just been really thinking about if maybe that could fit me too. I was so different in high school and I've been trying to work on myself, just be a better person and find myself outside of trying to make others like me. Getting there little by little, more so these last couple of months. It seems the more I work on the more things I find hidden underneath. Trying to find my own style, without my parents' input, did make a big difference but something still feels missing.”

“My best friend Robin has been helping a bit. Helping me accept that there are days that I just want to feel pretty. I didn't really know what to do with that or what to think about it until I met you. Looking back on my life and after what you've said I've noticed some things. Made me think about how easily I fit in with a group of girl friends, and liked it. How easily I also got on with a group of guy friends and how sometimes one would feel more right than the other. I remembered being confused as to why toys were gendered, I just wanted to play with them all.”

“I've noticed how on days that I just want to feel pretty, being referred to as a man just doesn't feel right. It felt so good when Robin helped me with my hair and told me how pretty I looked. I guess it's just that days where I'm ok with being referred to as a man make me doubt those other days where I'm not. It's been a lot to try and process and shit, it's confusing." Steve took a deep breath and wiped away the tears that had started to fall down his cheeks. Robin must be rubbing off on him for him to ramble that much. How it was so easy to just open up like that to someone who was practically a stranger he wasn't sure but fuck if it didn't feel good to have someone to open up to.

"First of all I'm so proud of you for working on yourself, that shit takes guts. Secondly you absolutely do not need to figure it all out at once, fuck, if you ever get it all figured out give me the key! I'm still trying to figure it out years later. I can talk to you about this all day everyday, I could introduce you to a load of people that are also genderqueer or just don't care what section of the shop they buy their clothes from, but it's different for everyone. I remember convincing myself I was lying the first day I wanted to wear a dress once I'd become comfortable enough to be who you see now. I woke up that morning and wanted to wear a dress and wear makeup and heels but I'd spent so many days previously feeling more masc or neither that I felt so ashamed of myself for wanting to wear a dress, I phoned a good friend and they reminded me that more fem days we're just part of the spectrum of my gender. That I wasn't lying to myself or anyone."    

"That's really helpful. I'll have to try to remember that. I'm sure if I explained it all to Robin she'd gladly give me a good slap to set me straight when needed. I think maybe that might fit me, genderqueer. I'm just not sure how I can, I guess kinda test that theory."

"If you think Robin can help then it might be worth looping them in. As for testing things, does Robin maybe have something you could borrow when you feel like, as you describe it, want to feel pretty? See how it feels when you wear something pretty and feminine when you feel like doing so? Maybe try a little bit of makeup on one of those days as well, some lipgloss and some mascara if you don't want to go all the way at first. Something else you can do to test it, is to ask those you're ok with knowing to refer to you as they or them all the time. Or trying asking to be referred to by whichever pronoun fits your day and see if that feels better or worse than they them. I personally change based on the day so she her on a fem day, he him on a masc day and they them on a neither day, but I have a friend that always uses they them. Do what you're comfortable with and tell who you want to tell and what you want them to know."

"I'll give that a shot. Thank you so much. You have no idea how helpful this has already been. So many thoughts and feelings I didn't know what to do with but now I do. I appreciate this!"

"No need to thank me, I'm here for as many of these chats as is needed, or just any chat if that's what you'd like. You're also always welcome in Indy at the bar or at any of the clubs we go to. That reminds me! We're off to a gig in a few weeks! You and Robin should come, you'll love it. I can't remember the details off hand but I'll make sure you get them really soon!" J rushed excitedly. 

"I'd love to! I'll have to ask Robin later but I'm sure I can convince her. Just give me a call with the details when you've got them. I'm sure we'll be able to make it work. Oh shit, speaking of work I have a shift to go get ready for. Thanks again, really."

"Yeah same here. Have a good shift love, speak soon." J says cheerily hanging up the phone.

A hand was waving in front of his, no their face. A voice was coming from nearby too but they couldn't quite make out what it was saying. Steve shook their head to try and bring themselves out of it. They hadn't realized how long he'd been, shit no, they'd been zoning out again. 

"Earth to Steve! Hello! Stevie!" Robin was slowly raising her voice with every word. They were supposed to be putting returns away but had apparently frozen in place, tape raised half way to where it belonged. 

"Fuck. Sorry Robs. I just have a lot on my mind lately. Did you need something?" They asked, giving Robin an apologetic smile.

"No, you just froze. You can't do that man!" Steve must have made a face with the way Robin was looking at them, eyebrows raised in confusion. They weren't very good at hiding their emotions from their face. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Alright then, spill it. What's going on in that head of yours? Is it Eddie again?"

"No, not at all actually. Look, we're supposed to lock the doors in ten minutes. What Keith doesn't know won't hurt him. You go ahead and lock up while I put the last of these returns away and then I promise to tell you all about it."

"Fine. You better be quick with those then!" Robin yelled over her shoulder as she made her way towards the door. 

"Remember me telling you about J?" Steve asked, pushing the return cart back to the counter so they wouldn't have to look at her. This wasn't going to be as easy as the conversation with J had been. Explaining something like this to someone who didn't already have some knowledge when they were just figuring it out themselves was going to be difficult. 

"Do we need to sit down? Steal some of the candy from the counter? It seems like we should get comfortable for this. But yes, I remember you telling me about them." She replied as she hopped up to sit on the counter, Steve doing the same and grabbing a bag of M&Ms for each of them. 

"Well I had a long chat with them on the phone a couple of days ago."

"Steve, why are you calling your crush's current partner? I know you said they seemed nice and all but doesn't that feel a little weird for you?" 

"I know how it sounds but it's got nothing to do with Eddie. I've never met anyone like them before so I didn't really have anyone else that I could have called. Remember me telling you about them being genderqueer?" They asked, not looking at Robin again. They couldn't look at her. Didn't want her to read them before they said anything like she always did. 

"I remember. Hey Stevie, look at me." Robin said softly while placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, waiting for them to look before she continued. "Whatever it is you can tell me. I can tell this is difficult for you but I promise that whatever it is I'm still going to be here for you. You can't get rid of me that easy."

"Well what if I told you that I think I might be like that too? Since I met them I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Wondering if maybe I was like them. I've dug out some things I shoved to the back of my mind and looking at it that way, well it's all starting to make sense." He, fuck not again. This was going to take some getting used to but they had to admit that they were liking the sound of it. They were struggling to still look at Robin. Crying on the phone, even a little, with J had been enough. They were going to try not to cry again now but that wouldn’t be so easy while looking at Robin. 

“Steve, of course that’s not even a problem.” Robin reassured as she pulled them into a crushing hug.

“Really?” Steve asked, already sniffling. Their goal of not crying already long gone. After a reassuring squeeze from Robin, they did their best to give her a summarized version of the conversation they had with J. Robin occasionally interrupting to ask questions.

“I’m really just glad that you’ve found something that’s giving you a better understanding of yourself. You said J gave you some suggestions for things that might help. Is there anything I can do?” She asked. How had they gotten so lucky that this was their best friend? Steve hadn’t even needed to ask for her help, she was just offering it willingly. Deep down they knew that this is how Robin would react but there was still that doubt that had lingered, trying to convince them otherwise. 

“Um, could you maybe try using they them pronouns for me? It might be helpful to hear someone else use them instead of just in my own head.” 

“Are you just picking the easier option?” There Robin goes again, reading Steve so easily. She knew they would pick whatever felt like it’d be easier for others instead of what they really wanted. “If you’d prefer different ones depending on how you’re feeling all you have to do is ask. I don’t mind, even if I have to ask you every day.”

Now Steve was really crying hard, awful noises and all. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“You quit that shit right now. I’ll do whatever you tell me you prefer. None of that people pleasing nonsense alright? This isn’t about others. This is about you. What makes you happy. What makes you comfortable.” 

“I’d really like that Robs. Thank you.” They admitted, taking a tissue from the box on the counter and wiping their face. There was still so much more they wanted to do to help them know if it truly fit but this was the first and most difficult step. They knew that as long as they had Robin, the rest would be easy.

Robin had been an even bigger help than ever imagined. She had brought over a couple clothing pieces that felt a little more feminine than something Steve would normally wear, trying to ease into it. Just like she promised, she checked in first thing every time she saw Steve to see what pronouns to use for the day. There had been a few times she’d been over to their house, makeup bag in hand, convincing Steve to at least try a little eyeliner too. 

Even though Steve hadn’t been brave enough to wear any of it out of the house, besides the earrings Robin had given them, they had to admit that it was all really helpful. It was making them more confident. They no longer thought they might be genderqueer, they knew it now. Robin using different pronouns for them had been the biggest help so far. She’d taken to calling them Stevie on days that they’d felt more feminine and alternating between Steve and Stevie and days where they’d just felt more like they were somewhere in between. 

She had been sitting on the couch in a skirt and top that Robin had picked up from a thrift store for her, having been talked into eyeliner too, when there was an obnoxious knocking at her door. They had just been talking about Stevie coming out to the kids. After nervously staring at each other, Robin had gotten up to answer the door. Of course it had been none other than the kids, like somehow they knew they were being talked about. 

Robin had been trying to convince them to just leave when Stevie decided to yell to just let them in. Might as well have gone for it then and get it over with. Robin threatened the group that if they had been anything but kind and accepting then they could forget all their rides to the arcade, access to Stevie’s pool, and reminding them that she knew where they all slept at night before letting them in.

There were lots of questions as anticipated but after it was all said and done, the kids had been accepting. Forgetting the reason they’d all shown up in the first place, they ended up watching movies and ordering pizza. 

“Come on Robin let’s go!” Stevie yelled from the front of Family Video. Robin had gone in the back for something she had forgotten. 

“I can’t find it!” Robin yelled back as she left the back room.

“Can’t find what?”

“My bag with my change of clothes!” She sighed, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Robin, it’s in my car. Remember when I picked you up earlier you decided to leave it in the car so you wouldn’t forget it since we plan on getting ready at Eddie’s instead of here?” Stevie sighed, palm smacking her forehead. 

“That’s right! Now let’s go!” Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the door and to the car. 

"Robin play nice ok?" Stevie asked as they got out of the car. 

"I'm not making any promises." She answered, shrugging her shoulders.

"Come on! Please can we just try and have a good time?"

"We'll have a good time but I can't promise the same for him."

"Ugh, don't make me regret this." She said as she knocked on the door. 

"Hey!! Come in come in!" J said cheerily when they answered the door. "You must be Robin, Steve's told me so much about you" 

"Hi, it's nice to meet you. Stevie here has told me a good bit about you too." 

"Let's go and get ready! This way!" J exclaimed, walking away.

After following J into another room, they started getting ready. Robin convinced Stevie to let her do her eyeliner but of course she wasn't done there. With a mischievous look on her face, Robin handed her a leather jacket. 

"Hey, erm, Stevie." J said, uncharacteristically timid, "I've got you a little present. It's just a little something that I really found helps me and I thought they might help you too." J opened the drawer they were standing next to and handed Stevie a little paper package. Hesitantly opening the package, she found three bracelets, pink, purple, and blue. 

"I have similar ones, I use them to tell those who know what kind of day I'm having." J explained showing Stevie and Robin their wrist to show a pink band. "It's subtle enough that it's not obvious if people don't know but it saves everyone asking if you prefer gender specific pronouns depending on the day. I also keep them with me in case I need to change it"

"These are perfect! We've been trying to think of something for that but never thought of this. Thank you!" Stevie exclaimed, throwing herself at J for a teary eyed hug. 

"Sorry I didn't get you anything Robin but I wasn't sure what would be appropriate" J smiled sheepishly. 

"You've obviously been a big help Stevie in a way I never could be. That's more than enough."

"I was hardly going to let her struggle with this without some guidance, but thank you, means a lot coming from her platonic soulmate as you're called" J beamed at Robin. 

Eddie opened his front door and was immediately met with the sound of laughter. He stood and listened for a few seconds before gently closing the door and slipping his jacket and shoes off. Rushing into his bedroom he grabbed everything he needed for a shower and to get ready. 

He was sitting in the living room 30 minutes later waiting for everyone to be ready so they could go. The guest bedroom door opened and J stepped out wearing a pair of really short shorts, a mesh top over a small tight vest top. 

"Holy shit baby, you look amazing. Get over here I've missed you" Eddie said, making grabby hands in J's direction. "So beautiful" he whispered before bending down and meeting her lips in a kiss. 

"Munson" Robin said from behind J causing Eddie to look up and look in her direction. 

Standing next to Robin was Steve. Wearing a see through black blouse, with nipple piercings on show, that was something that Eddie couldn't think about too hard right now. Steve also wore a pair of red tartan pants with combat boots underneath, and a leather jacket, no no scrap that he was wearing Eddie's leather jacket. Did Steve know it was Eddies? He had too, right? Steve had chosen to wear a jacket that belonged to Eddie. 

Eddie cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from Steve "Buckley, Harrington. Good to see you both." he said, looking at Robin who looked far too amused for Eddie's liking. 

"Hey J, could I talk to you for a second?" Robin asks, nodding her head to the side to hint at a private conversation.

"Yeah cause you can! What's up?!" J asked, leaning in close to the other girl.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping Stevie. I wouldn't have been able to help her with this so I'm glad she had someone to go to."

"I remember how difficult it was at first to figure it all out. You've been amazing and supportive as well, she's lucky to have you too" J replied hugging Robin. 

"I'm just so proud of her. Making little steps forward. Look at her! She even let me do her eyeliner and she's never let me do that before when we're going somewhere." 

"Erm I'm sorry, 'she'?" Eddie asked, surprised. 

"Um, yeah about." Stevie says, rubbing the back of her neck and looking down.  

"Look it's cool if you don't want to say" Eddie smiles.

"No. It's fine. It's just not a lot of people know right now so it's a little difficult still."

"Take your time, tell me whatever you want and leave out the bits you don't." Eddie encouraged.

"Well, I do kind of have you to thank for it. I never would have met J otherwise and without meeting them and their willingness to help, I don't think I ever really would have figured it out"

"She is pretty amazing," Eddie says, pulling J against himself. 

"Well I uh, shit. This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"It's ok, you've got this" J smiles at Stevie encouragingly. 

"Thanks to some advice from J and help from Robin, I've figured out that…" Stevie hesitates, trying to gather some courage. 

Eddie notices Stevie's bracelet. "Oohhh! I think I get it. Steve, are you trying to tell me that you're genderqueer?" Eddie asks. 

"Yeah. I am." Stevie whispers, not yet willing to really look at Eddie. 

"Okay. Thank you for telling me. Is it okay to ask about your pronouns?" the metalhead questions softly. 

"Yeah of course. Going with the day seems to be best. Which is why…" Stevie says, wiggling her wrist with the pink bracelet on towards Eddie. 

"That's a great idea! I'll try my best to keep an eye on the bracelet and go with that. Is it they/them on a neither day? Just want to check." Eddie asks. 

"Thank you. Yeah it is." Stevie finally looks at Eddie with a smile. 

"Shall we head out then ladies? I'm a lucky man tonight! 3 beautiful ladies on my arm. Let's go!" Eddie exclaims, grabbing J's hand and heading towards the door. 

The bar was already crowded when Eddie, J, Stevie and Robin walked in. They made their way to the bar and picked up a round of drinks before heading to the dance floor to watch the warm up band. They spent hours dancing with each other, laughing, joking and really enjoying the live music, getting slightly more drunk as the night went on. 

"You want a drink sweetheart?" Eddie shouted, as to be heard, in Stevie's ear, causing her to turn. They were face to face, nose to nose pretty much and suddenly there was no one around. The crowded, loud, club that was filled with people dancing and music blasting was suddenly empty if you asked Eddie. He couldn't handle it. The proximity was too close. His hand on Stevie's waist felt like it was burning. The air was suffocating. He needed to get away from there as quickly as he could. So he did what, if you ask Eddie, he does best, he ran. Left his glass on the bar and ran outside and round the corner. 

"Hey baby, you ok? Heard you ran out of there quickly," came the voice of J beside him. "everything ok?" She sounded worried. She shouldn't be worried. How does he explain the crisis he's having right now over someone he may possibly be in love with when his partner is right there. Eddie couldn't stomach it any longer, he turned away from J and threw up. All over the disgusting alleyway they stood in and broke down in tears. 

"I'm going to head back in really quickly and let Robin and Stevie know we're heading back. I'll leave my key with Stevie so they can let themselves in when they're done." J said as she ran soothing circles down his back. 

20 minutes later Eddie was tucked up in bed with a glass of water on his bedside table, pain killers next to it and an old washing up bowl on the floor. Looking at these things made everything so much worse. He did not deserve the person currently getting ready for bed in his bathroom. He lay awake for hours, long after J had fallen asleep next to him, her soft breathing normally soothing him but doing anything but tonight. Long after Robin and Stevie returned home and made far too much noise getting ready for bed, giggling and shushing each other. Long after he sobered up and the headache had started, he didn't take the painkillers next to him, he deserved the pain. He had no idea what to do. J was amazing, they got on so well and whilst they currently weren't serious, Eddie had a feeling it could definitely head that way.

Finally just after 8am Eddie got out of bed and threw on his comfiest clothes heading to the kitchen and to make coffee. 

He was 2 cups in when J joined him in the living room. 

"Wanna talk about it?" J asked, sitting next to Eddie on the couch. 

"I don't know what you mean, I just couldn't sleep. Maybe too much sugar in my mixers, I don't know, I'm ok, go back to bed. We'll all head out to breakfast when everyone is up again." He replied, trying his best to smile. 

"Eddie, I'm not stupid, please don't treat me as such." came the reply. 

"Sorry, you're right." He whispered, slipping his arm around J and pulling her into him, kissing her temple. 

"Does your weird behaviour recently, and especially last night, have anything to do with that hunk of a brunette sleeping in the guest room?" J asked, slipping their arm around him and kissing his cheek. 

"Yeah," Eddie confessed. 

 "Thank you for telling me. Steve is amazing. They'll be lucky to have you." 

"What?!" Eddie questioned, shocked. 

"Eddie, I've already reminded you once I'm not stupid. I've seen the way Stevie looks at you and I've seen the way you look at them. You were stripping them with your eyes last night when they stepped out of the guest room ready to go out. Stevie’s eyes followed you all around the gig last night, and they'll probably kill me if you say anything but I'm almost certain I saw them sniff your jacket when they put it on. You two have a connection. I don't know what happend before you left Hawkins but it connected you two." J replied, smiling up at Eddie. 

"What are you saying?" Eddie asked. Both not wanting the answer but really wanting to know at the same time. 

"I'm saying you need to go and get your person. Eddie, me and you were meant to be, but not meant to last. I will always cherish our time together and you're absolutely never getting rid of me but that shit" J said gesturing between Eddie and the guest room. "is true love." 

"I love you J. So fucking much" Eddie replied wetly wiping his tears away.

"I know" J responded before the door down the hall opened and a very sleepy looking Robin emerged.  

[rootsmachine]

Do you have a masterlist of your fic? Especiallyif things are in the same universe?

ooh no i do not let me write something out. roughly in order of how i wrote it. actually this is going under a read more i write a lot of fic.

chews me up spits me out -- taissa needs help. van has answers no one wants. first yj fic i wrote :') stands alone & has pretty different characterization for van than i the characterization i settled into. still love it. vague reference to a scar on van's hand that i write about later, but the fics don't go together.

seems i've made the final sacrifice -- how can tai's sleepwalking go soo horribly wrong? this is the 'scar on van's hand' fic but they don't go together other than i was exploring similar ideas (tai is in trouble and van has answers that hurt more than they help)

dead when i woke up this morning -- exploring the taivan breakup we all thought was going to happen, with a fun little helping of lottie. doesn't go with anything else.

if it always, always, always has to hurt -- pre and during crash exploration of van & natalie's friendship. again doesn't go with anything, stands alone.

god i want to go home, it cannot hold, nothing to lose til everything's gone -- these explicitly go together, exploration of post-rescue for van (first and last) and tai (middle one).

i got her if i want and makes me wanna try her on -- don't ACTUALLY go together but vibes wise they do. plot wise they explicitly contradict each other. just two messy teenage lesbians figuring their shit out!

don't know why i am the way i am -- TAISHAUNA!! cant believe i forgot this again doesn't really go with anything.

true blue (like i hide from myself) and so far to fall and it didn't hurt at all -- again explictly go together. exploration of tai and van, van and other tai, other tai and tai, and all of them together. fun POV stuff in the second one (imo)

open my arms and give it all to you and always running from something -- again these explicitly go together, they weren't chapters of the same fic bc i don't like switching POV between chapters. post 207 and post-post 207.

hold myself together -- my taissa turner eating disorder fic. again doesn't go with anything.

eulogy singer and return, return, return to me -- less explicitly go together but in my mind the ending of return return return to me (post finale tai and van hotel sex) feeds into the ending of eulogy singer (why didn't the show give us ANYTHING about simone fic).

red card -- STUPID fic (jeff thinks van is his friend, van fucking hates him). doesnt go with anything and in fact i have no idea logistically how this universe would work. just roll with it.

a hillside struggling to stand -- tallahassee choose your own adventure au. van & tai self destruct and finally die in a house fire post rescue. doesn't go with anything but this IS an extended universe the rest of it simply exists in text messages.

all the frequencies hold -- immediate aftermath of the rescue, and tai isn't sure what's real. again doesn't explicitly go with anything.

narrowing to a point -- post s2 teen timeline fic where everyone is doing poorly. stands alone!

something in the woods somewhere -- pro cannibalism second winter fic. doesn't go with anything i wrote but emotionally and spirtually it is twinned with @sapphicscience's (if you can't scream then) swallow it down

and FINALLY: a not admitting of the wound -- s2 finale adult timeline that doesn't have as many men & also more callie. it doesn't go-go with anything BUT it references a fic i haven't published lmao. just a fun easter egg for me and my google drive.

ANYWAYS that's it. if stuff seems to have similar ideas/points that's because it does <3 hope that clears things up.

[inkonfreshnewpaper]

Tag Game! (Two for Two in a week! Saved for later so I'd have something different to write about) (Saved it for so long I've got a ton to write about)

Tagged by @bacchanalium

3) Last song: Love Me Like You Used To - Lord Huron. It hits in that good melancholy country mood for me.

4) Last film: Portrait of a Girl on Fire. I'm so behind on essential queer films, so I finally got around to watching it. Honestly, surprised at the lack of music in movie. It's saved for a moment at the end that absolutely hit. Bit slow, but in a good way. Seven Samurai. It's Seven Samurai. It's a good movie. I don't have much to say other than, movie good. Wasn't expecting Mifune's character to be as feral as he was, or how affecting the movie was. The Thing. It's The Thing, I wanna be you. The first time I saw it was Halloween 2020 during my horror movie marathon. This time I watched it in my university's movie theatre with a nearly full audience. People gasped during Child's "Then we're wrong" line delivery and laughed a bunch throughout. Seeing it on the big screen was incredible. 10/10. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (2022). This was a weird one. Gonna have to actually post my thoughts on it because I'm still chewing on it. It focuses entirely on Utterson, but the adaption decides to put him through a negative character arc. Does it work? Stay tuned.

5) Currently reading: The Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros (finished it but at what cost). It wasn't very good. I got YA vibes from the character descriptions in the how they focus exclusively on eye and hair colour. Pacing was all over the place. Would spend way too long in one scene, way too short in another. The characters felt way too modern in a supposed fantasy world, mostly due to the dialogue. (Protag's best friend called her and her love interest 'slow burn' and I had to put the book down for a minute after that). The magic system felt like an excuse to get the main couple together and nothing else. That's my biggest critique of the novel. Everything just feels paper thin in this world. Things are set up, but resolved so quickly it doesn't feel satisfying. The school is set up as super dangerous and everyone is trying to kill each other 24/7, and the protag makes a best friend first day and they stay best friends. And further confirmation that no one knows how to write enemies-to-lovers, just 'didn't like you at the start'. Love interest says he loved her since he first saw her. WEAK. Why'd I read it? A bookstore clerk recommended it, I was on the library wait list for months. I needed to dissect this book thoroughly to justify me reading it. I'm also reading The Butterfly Collector by Tea Cooper. It's an okay mystery set in 1920s Australia. Garden of Earth Bodies by Sally Oliver. I'm compelled. It's horror-lite about grief, but the twist hasn't happened yet, so who's to say if it's good yet. Definitely reads as a debut novel - very dramatic prose, feels like it's trying too hard to grab my attention. It's meh so far, but I want to see where it goes.

6) Currently watching: Currently Delicious in Dungeon as it comes out. Studio Trigger is doing such a good job with the adaptation. I'm also watching Revue Starlight, which was way better than I was expecting. Episode 8 launched Hikari to all time favourite characters for me. Haven't finished it yet.

7) Currently consuming: Some tea.

8) Currently craving: Nice and full from dinner with Delicious in Dungeon. No better way to spend a Thursday night.

Tagging: @thefollow-spot, @whoawhataconcept, @fate-motif, @ishmaels, @flubz, @scootbloop, @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, @kafkastan, @sacrerouges, @violasmirabiles, @owlmylove

[tellerrides]

Jax leaned back in the chair he’d so casually pulled out, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other bringing a cigarette to his lips. He took his time, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his blue eyes never leaving Franciska’s. He’d dealt with hard-asses before—hell, he was one—but there was something different about her. She wasn’t just posturing; she had built this place, owned every inch of it, and wasn’t about to let some outlaw waltz in and tell her how to run things. Jax respected that. Respected her. But he also wasn’t the type to back down when someone challenged him. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he flicked ash onto the tray beside him. "Little boy, huh?" he drawled, tilting his head slightly as he let her words settle. "Damn, and here I thought I was bein’ polite by comin’ straight to you instead of makin’ my boys sniff around first."

His fingers tapped against the edge of the table, the amusement in his expression not quite reaching his eyes. He knew her type—tough, no-nonsense, the kind of woman who had crawled her way up from the gutter and made damn sure no one ever dragged her back down. That wasn’t too far off from how he and the club operated, which meant this conversation could go one of two ways. Jax leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, his voice dropping just enough to make sure she listened.

"Look, I get it. You built this, you run a tight ship, and you don’t need some asshole walkin’ in here thinkin’ he knows better." His smirk faded slightly, his expression turning more serious. "But here’s the thing, darlin’—I ain’t here to take over, and I sure as shit ain’t here to waste your time. I’m here to talk business. Real business." He let the words sink in, watching her closely, waiting for even the smallest crack in that icy exterior. "I know how this town works. And I know that even a place as tight as yours ain't immune to problems. Cops sniffin’ around, competitors lookin’ to cause trouble, maybe a few customers who don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves." He exhaled another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash away with casual ease.

"That’s where SAMCRO comes in," he continued, voice smooth, confident. "We keep the wrong kind of people out. Make sure no one screws with what you built. In return, we talk numbers—mutual protection, maybe a little extra revenue flowin’ your way." Jax leaned back again, giving her space, letting her chew on his words. He knew better than to push too hard—women like Franciska didn’t respond well to pressure. But he also knew an opportunity when he saw one.

“So,” he said finally, his smirk returning as he put out his cigarette, “you still think I’m just some little boy? Or do you wanna hear what I’m actually offering?”

All through her young adult life Franciska had been taken advantage of, the power of control stripped away from her, along with her dignity. The brunette was an extremely naive sex worker at the time. She hadn't the best upbringing, with parents that constantly fought and argued. Sometimes she to found herself on the receiving end of her father's fists. Throughout the years, the older woman has managed to work her way through the ranks. From the gutter to the highest pedestals. An esteemed businesswoman now owns one of the town's best establishments, known as 'the sinner's paradise'. She is well known for being a hard ass and a bitch to some who come to her and mistreat her lovely ladies. There are very strict rules that men must abide by if they wish to partake in sinful, erotic, pleasures.

Tonight was going to be a  busy night. More so than usual, she suspected. She had double-checked, and triple-checked security. Not wanting any of her ladies harmed. She had given them all a brief peptalk, and they were also prepared in case anything were to happen. She and they are the ones in control here, not these simpering, whining men that often frequent here. The place, as usual, high-caliber, cleaniless is next to godliness in something so wicked. Getting ready as the large, heavy doors moved. Franciska spun around to face the unknown intruder. Her orbs glanced in his direction, taking in his appearance and demeanor. His slicked back, blonde hair. Vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. As his words resonated in her ears, her eyebrows raised with a slight head tilt. Her arms folding over her chest as she shifted her stance. Her mouth began to open, ready to speak when he simply pulled out the chair, not bothering her to go ahead. Her thinly veiled eyes narrowed even more. She breathed in a deep breath, recollecting herself as she tried to stay calm. "Is that so?" she questioned. "You think it's wise to just come up here and speak to me without an appointment? Look, mister...I don't know who you are. But what makes you think I'd be interested in anything you have to offer?" she inquired, as her lips formed a grin. "I've got everything I need, right here," she gestured with her arms. "I don't need some little boy mixed in my business affairs," she smirked.

[jymwahuwu]

Imagine Yandere Cyno and Tighnari’s darling decided to try again but this time it was impulsive. No further plans other than getting away from those two and Sumeru. Abandoning everything because they are so desperate to getting away.

Somehow some way it work. Luck finally gotten on their side and now their on a ship as stowaway that will take them to Mondstadt. When they got there, they still feel as if it’s not far away enough and decided to go to Inazuma instead.

Living in Inazuma as foreigners are hard but they’ll take anything just so they wouldn’t go back. Perhaps they manage to get a job as a maid in the Kamisato’s or they manage to find refuge in Watatsumi. It’s as if they’ve been gifted with immense amount of luck. Now their on the path of healing and getting comfortable in their new identities. It’s only a matter of time however until their luck runs out.

I just wanna know how Cyno and Tighnari will react to this? Maybe their darlings manage to hide away for a couple of years. Either by luck alone or by the help of their new friends in Inazuma.

I have a wild imagination, sorry that this became so wordy. 😬

Tighnari and Cyno's wife escape

Don't worry, I enjoyed reading this 🥰 Oh darlings worked hard! Luck is on their side…for now.

TW: yandere, escape, kidnapping, abuse of power

It took some time for Cyno and Tighnari to be sure that you were not in Sumeru territory, there is no place here that would dare harbor you. They tracked you down to a ship bound for Mondstadt. The crew and guests have given some clues as to where you might be, but not in Mondstadt. There is no such possibility. They already knew. Your thoughts can guess.

Maybe Liyue…? Snezhnaya? Fontaine? A few years had passed when they set their sights on Inazuma based on clues and sightings. Without you, irritability and frustration took hold of them, and as time went on - they were pretty sure the two of you were in Inazuma.

If you're settling down in Watatsumi, the kindness of the Divine Priestess will soothe your heart. You never tell her or anyone why you are here, but Kokomi and Gorou don't care. They also often send some daily necessities to your home to take care of strangers who are not familiar with this place.

If you work as maids at Kamisato's house, it's a really good job. You just need to follow Thoma's instructions to clean and pack a few things to help prepare for the festival. The accommodation is provided by the Kamisato family.

Live your new life in tranquility, you occasionally recall what happened in Sumeru, your husband's face, their sweetness and… some uneasiness chews your heart like ants.

Certain pictures of your figures, your smiles, your frowns, were sent back to Sumeru by certain people. They pinched the photo.

Based on the original intentions of the three gods, Inazuma, Mondstadt, and Liyue are not the kind of country that betrays the people, even if they are only residents from foreign countries. Still, what separates Inazuma from the other two is the corruption that exists within. Watatsumi Island can be infiltrated. If you are a maid in Kamisato's house, it will be more difficult to capture you than on Watatsumi Island. Still, it's just a few extra weeks of preparation.

Although Cyno is desperate to see you as soon as possible, he has kept his sanity and will not go there himself - to avoid any diplomatic trouble for Sumeru. One day, the two of you might go out to buy some veggies, sushi, and exchange small jokes, but someone covers your mouths from behind, and a sudden sting hits you, forcing you into a coma.

When you wake up, you find yourself in "that home". Forest Ranger's tree house, General Mahamatra's house in Sumeru city. Time freezes as if nothing has changed, passed. The difference may be that you have an extra chain around your neck, and they keep telling how to find you, finally.