#i think this made me a medkit fan

[alexthemacaronian]

hi guys i doodled Medkit hanging out with princess

[sickwhispers]

Wait... How did I get here?!!! Anyways while I'm here, the hc you made Abt dandy was very fun to read, can you make a part 2 pls 🥺

Hopefully you accept part 2 requests, btw you can jusr ignore this if you don't want to.

Hehe, hiii. Part 2 requests are completely allowed, don't worry. In fact, I'm flattered that you enjoyed it enough to request a part 2, so thank you for that!

THEY LOVE ME, THEY LOVE ME NOT (pt 2)

Pairing: Dandy x reader

Relationship: romantic (situationship again)

Warnings: I mightve made him yandere coded... woopsie, slightly sadistic

Type: headcanons + drabble

Surely now you understand why he had to do what he did

And, he can't help but find some sense of amusement in the way you nodded your head, eyes wide with a hint of fear behind their glossy look

He's sorry, he doesn't want to be mean

But... sometimes he thinks it's just a little cute how desperate you get when it comes to buying from his shop

"Nwah... I didn't even have to ask you this time! You must really like me, don't ya?" The smile on his face seemed to stretch as you tossed the last remaining tapes you had saved up during the last couple of floors. He never felt the need to ask you after every round anymore. At this point, he was certain you'd hand them over eventually.

He could tell you were nervous. The way your hands shook as you grabbed the medkit from his display of items. You were lucky, yknow. If it was anyone else, he'd only be giving them a couple gumballs and singular chocolate bars. But you? How could he keep all the best stuff hidden?

The others didn't understand him like you did. They had even tried asking you to distance yourself from him at some point. But, you'd never do that to him. He's your friend, and he has been ever since the beginning.

After seeing your reaction to his twisted form, he almost constantly felt the need to show it to you just one more time

To see the way your body froze, a deer in headlights and at the complete mercy of what you could only describe as a grotesque monster made of ichor

But, he also didn't want you to think of him as a monster

He found the way you shook in his presence cute, but that didn't mean he wanted you to shake every time you were in the same room together

Maybe, if he warmed you up to his twisted form more, you'd feel a bit less uncomfortable with the idea of letting him lay on you

Feeling you beneath him as he nuzzled against the top of your head, a claw of his tracing each line on your palm

Seeing you scared was fun, but he was always a fan of the domestic moments

Just having you by his side was enough to keep him happy, your constant presence bringing a comfort like no other

He was never sure why he felt this way

Honestly, the first time he felt it back when everything wasn't in total disaster, he had thought he'd caught some sort of sickness.

But no, he didn't, and it didn't take too long before he really found out why every time he saw you, his body seemed to tense

There was always a need to make you happy, to keep you smiling

So, despite the overwhelming sensation to bare his monstrous form just for you, he found himself opting to hold it back

For now, at least

Until your hands stopped shaking and your smile didn't hold some sort of strain behind its appearance

The glossy eyes were cute, but...

Only then would he try to get you used to the feeling of eyes boring into the back of your head every floor

He didn't want you to think of him like some sadist

Sure, he had some sadistic tendencies

But he's only joking!

No need to worry. He loves you. He'd never want to hurt you

Intentionally, that is

But, until the day he's able to show you the worst possible version of him without the fear of scaring you enough to leave forever

He's fine with pretending like he doesn't want you to shower him with all kinds of affection he could possibly think of

In both his toon form and twisted form

[biolumien]

when'd you get so cool? (always was)

jo togame x gn!reader pre shishitoren arc, post choji becoming leader mentions of implied violence word count: 1022

“fuck.” 

jo togame, vice captain to the shishitoren, was currently bleeding pretty hard from several gashes on his arms, and one fairly nasty scrape across his face. you’d found him limping back to the ori, his orange jacket draped over his shoulders as he held onto his arm, applying loose pressure over his wounds—and his characteristic orange glasses dangling unevenly against his nose. 

you’d rushed him back to the ori, towards an upper floor where you were less likely to be bothered, and had found the medkit you kept for emergencies like this. shishitoren might be devotees to power, but they didn’t have to be devotees to constant open wounds and injuries. or something like that, 

you held a cotton ball with a set of tweezers, just after you dunked it into some rubbing alcohol, but togame kept jolting—not enough to stop you from being able to disinfect his wounds, but enough that he kept pressing closer and closer towards you. 

“stop moving,” you say, finally exasperated, your cheeks flushed at the proximity. “i’m trying to disinfect your wounds, genius.”

“aww. you think i’m one?” togame’s eyes brightened for a moment as he drawled. “a genius?”

“…” 

the face you made must have been pretty bad, because he snickered, the sound low, almost like a rumbling in his throat. 

“when’d you get so cool?�� togame mutters, pressing close to your face. your cheeks are flushed—they must be, and you laugh softly, flicking his forehead. his facial expression falters for a second, wincing in dramatic pain. “mean it. when?” 

in the rundown room of the ori, you feel a sudden rising of chill air, and you shiver, despite the warm heat of togame’s body pressing close to yours. 

“i’ve always been,” you tease. “guess you just haven’t noticed what was right in front of you.” 

bolder than you usually are, at least. you think something curdles in you–shame for saying something so bold, maybe? you worry, for a fleeting, desperate second, that togame’s just going to mock you, but he doesn’t. togame laughs. it’s a nice sound, a slow thing that makes his chest shake with each chuckle. 

“really…” he whistles, the note low. “didn’t realize, then, i guess. my bad.” his nose scrunches when he laughs. your face feels like it’s on fire, and then you realize you have to get back to patching him up—so you cut some gauze with the scissors in your small medkit, gesturing to togame to extend his arm. 

he’s wiry, but you’ve seen this man punch so hard he’s dented metal sheets without even flinching. his arms feel hard. 

“knives do this?” you ask as you tie the gauze tightly around his arm. 

“yeah,” togame says. he stares down at you, a small smirk crossing his face slowly—at the pace of trickling honey. “worried about me?”

you scoff.

“out of everyone, i worry the least about you,” you murmur. and you’re lying, you know it, because you do worry about him–you lie awake in your bed, staring up at your ceiling fan, at ribbons that you’ve tacked up on the blades that flow hypnotically–and you worry and wonder and hope that togame is safe. even though he hits the hardest, he’s built like a truck–he’ll be safe, so long as he plays his cards right. 

“i know you can handle yourself. just wonder if you bite off a little more than you can chew sometimes. with choji, with the rest of them,” you continue, wrapping gauze around his other arm. 

togame’s green eyes darken a little bit–you can see the point at which they harden, like flint. you realize maybe a little belatedly that you’d fucked up–choji was a sensitive subject, even now–you never asked about the depth of togame’s devotion, but he was the self-sacrificing type in the end, too–the kind of man that would wade in the river lethe if it meant that his friends wouldn’t touch the memory-erasing waters.

he’d lose himself if it meant protecting someone else. that’s what scared you, what kept you awake at night. 

“sorry,” you say, picking up the medkit to pull out some bandaids–fabric kinds, that come in a variety of cute patterns. “i know it’s a touchy subject.”

“... s’fine,” togame says, and his eyes stay that strange, dulled color–but the smile’s back, and this time you can realize how fake it is–the edges of his masked facade coming apart at the seams. you fish through patterned bandaids, settling on an orange one with black cats across it. 

“tilt your head,” you murmur. “away from me, so i can put this on. then you’re done.” 

togame does so, his glasses almost falling off the bridge of his nose as he looks away. you press the bandage against his face, carefully making sure it adheres. his skin is warm, and you can almost see the places where he’s shaved at his jaw with a razor, and your thumb brushes against the faintest hint of stubble.

“all done,” you say, pulling back.

“thanks.”

togame’s voice is clipped, strained. he seems to be looking at something far away–further than the walls of the ori. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” you ask as he stands up, pressing away from you.

“me? never better,” togame says, and you can tell it’s a lie from the way his smile strains, too strained to be genuine. “don’t worry about me.” he leans forward, taking your hand in his for a moment–and you’re startled by the feverish warmth of his hand for a moment, as he leans down to press a kiss to the tips of your fingers. 

his lips are warm, too–a little dry, but soft. the kiss itself is almost reverent, and you think your breath gets strangled in your throat for a desperate, wheezing second. 

he smiles, almost sheepishly at you for a moment, before he turns and shrugs his jacket on past his bandaged arms, and leaves.

you raise up the hand that he’d kissed, pressing your fingers to your lips contemplatively for a moment–as if you could, by kissing the faint reminder of his ghost, feel his lips on yours. 

[phightingconfessions]

i once had a dream where I was suddenly isekai-ed to the phighting world and let me tell you that shit was like a fever dream

i spawned as this guy who was just made out of literal slime and my ability was being able to throw living slime blobs at people like im some kind of mario miniboss

anyways immediately after I spawned I saw the entirety of the SFOTH just sitting at those kinds of colorful plastic tables you'd see in kindergarten and they were sitting on the green frog chairs in animal crossing (examples in pictures)

They immediately started out some kind of speech which I did not remember at all I think it was abt getting McDonald's for them??, after that I found myself in a phighting match with most of the phighters– the thing is that instead of their usual gear/weapons they were all using pool noodles and threw butter at eachother. After that phight Subspace immediately yelled out and said that he was going to marry Medkit. Medkit was not a big fan of that. Despite that they still had a wedding and the reason why they did was for tax benefits (i was the flower boy) a lot of wacky stuff happened blah blah which included Windforce putting Banhammer up for adoption because "he forgot bug type Pokémon were immune to dark type and made them lose the Pokémon battle" And then I proceeded to disintegrate slingshot by yelling "BEGONE CATBOY!"

I also remember exorcising Valk using a skibidi toilet plushie after "he ate too much peanut butter and peanut butter demon took over him"

a lot of stuff happened in that dream and the things I listed above were just some of the shit I found confusing or funny

IM GOING TO CHOKE ON MY LUNCHAB,ES HELP HASAGASHCX

[missrosiesworld]

In the Hollow's Silence

Warning: This story features an original character (Astraea Lunaris) in a romantic pairing with Lighter from Zenless Zone Zero. If you’re not a fan of OC x Canon pairings, this story may not be for you. Please read with an open mind and enjoy! 💫

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The battle had been brutal, the kind of fight that left the air charged with adrenaline and the faint tang of ozone. The Hollow was eerily quiet now, the once chaotic echoes replaced by a heavy, oppressive silence. Lighter stood amidst the debris, his breath heaving, the golden gauntlet humming faintly as it powered down. His green eyes scanned the area, frantic. The fight had forced him and Astraea to separate, and the memory of her fighting off a swarm of Ethereals replayed in his mind, sharp and vivid.

He turned in place, panic starting to bubble under his skin. “Astraea!” he called, his voice rough from the strain of shouting during the battle. There was no answer. His heart kicked against his ribs. He ignored the ache in his own shoulder as he took off, weaving through the ruined landscape.

His eyes finally landed on a figure slumped against a half-collapsed wall. Her shimmering midnight-blue hair, streaked with dust and glowing faintly like a living constellation, caught the dim light of the Hollow. Relief surged through him, only to be replaced by dread when he saw her clutching her side, her gloves slick with blood.

“Astraea!” he shouted, dropping to his knees beside her in an instant. His hands found her shoulders, steadying her as his gaze darted over her body, searching for the source of her injury. His touch was firm but trembling with urgency. “Hey, hey, are you okay? Talk to me.”

Astraea looked up, her striking violet eyes meeting his. Flecks of blue, gold, and silver glimmered faintly, though dulled by exhaustion. Her lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Lighter,” she said softly, though her voice betrayed the strain she was under. “Just… caught off guard for a moment.”

“Fine?” Lighter barked, his voice thick with disbelief. His fingers brushed against her side where blood seeped through the fabric of her bodysuit. The sight of it made his breath hitch, memories flashing unbidden through his mind—another time, another place, and far too much blood. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to focus on the present. On her.

“I can’t—damn it, Astraea, you’re bleeding,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly. He reached for the pouch on her belt, pulling out a small medkit with shaking hands. “Why didn’t you call for me? You shouldn’t have fought alone!”

Astraea’s gloved hand reached out, resting gently over his, grounding him. “Lighter,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “I knew you had your hands full. I can handle myself, remember?” She gave him a faint smile, trying to ease his worry. “It’s just a scratch,” she murmured, though her voice wavered.

“That’s not a scratch,” he bit out, his voice sharper than he intended as he glanced at her side again. Blood seeped through the fabric of her bodysuit, staining the midnight blue with dark crimson. His hand trembled as he pressed against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Damn it, Astraea, you should’ve called for me. I—"

Her hand lifted weakly to rest over his, her touch warm despite the cold creeping into her limbs. “I didn’t want to distract you,” she said softly, her tone apologetic.

Lighter’s jaw clenched, his usual bravado cracking under the weight of his emotions. “You are my distraction,” he muttered, his voice low but fierce. “You’re all I could think about the entire fight.”

She blinked at his confession, her expression softening despite the pain. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her tone gentle.

Lighter shook his head, focusing on her wound. His hands steadied as he carefully worked to press a bandage against her wound, his touch gentle. “Hold this for a second,” he said, guiding her hand to the bandage.

When he was satisfied that the bleeding had slowed, he sat back slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. His hands rose to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing away the smudges of dirt on her cheeks. “You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t do that again.”

Astraea’s lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile, though her exhaustion was clear. “I’ll try not to,” she replied softly, her voice tinged with both affection and weariness. “But you know me—I can’t promise to stay out of trouble.”

Lighter huffed out a shaky laugh, though his worry still etched deep into his expression. “Yeah, I do,” he muttered, his thumbs continuing to brush gently over her cheekbones. “But damn it, Astraea, you’ve got to stop scaring me like this.”

His gaze softened as he studied her face, taking in the flecks of starlight in her violet eyes, the determination lingering even through her pain. She was everything he admired—resilient, brave, stubborn to a fault—and it terrified him to think how close she’d come to being taken from him.

Astraea reached up, her gloved hand resting lightly on his wrist. “You don’t have to worry so much,” she murmured, her tone playful despite her exhaustion. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“That’s not the point,” Lighter shot back, his voice firm but laced with emotion. “I know you’re tough. I know you can handle yourself. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with watching you bleed out after every fight.”

Her smile grew, faint but warm. “I’ll try to make it out in one piece next time,” she teased gently.

Lighter huffed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible,” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite. Instead, he leaned in, his forehead pressing lightly against hers. “But you’re my impossible,” he whispered, his voice raw with sincerity.

Astraea blinked, her gaze softening as the weight of his words settled between them. Before she could respond, Lighter tilted his head slightly and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, his touch reverent, as if afraid she might break under his care. But it deepened as her hand slid up to his jaw, anchoring him there.

When they finally broke apart, Lighter rested his forehead against hers, his hand drifting to the back of her neck, his touch warm and steady. “You’re all I care about,” he said softly, his voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. “Don’t make me lose you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his green eyes searching hers as their foreheads remained pressed together. “You’re mine to protect, Astraea,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me feel like I failed you.”

Astraea’s violet eyes softened, her fingers tracing lightly along the line of his jaw, anchoring him as much as herself. “You haven’t failed me, Lighter,” she said gently, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “You’ve never failed me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, her words settling over him like a balm. “I don’t ever want to start,” he whispered, his thumb brushing the edge of her cheek. His gaze lingered on her, a silent promise written in the intensity of his green eyes.

Astraea’s lips curved into a faint smile, her hand dropping to rest over his where it held her steady. “Then don’t,” she replied, her tone laced with affection and just a hint of playfulness. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Lighter huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good,” he said simply, though his tone carried the weight of his relief.

Carefully, Lighter slid an arm under her knees and another around her back, lifting her with ease despite his own injuries. She protested weakly, but he silenced her with a pointed look. “You’re not walking anywhere,” he said firmly. “Let me take care of you.”

Astraea sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Fine,” she murmured, her tone teasing despite the fatigue creeping into her voice. “But only because I’m too tired to argue.”

“Good,” he replied, his smirk returning faintly as he began the careful trek back to safety. The weight of her in his arms was grounding, a reminder that she was still here, still with him. And that was all that mattered.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

minific :) hope u like it!! it doesnt have much of canon lore applied, and its Mann Vs Machine. Spy bein a dad when its far too late :(

----

The team had been split up when the robots attacked, and Scout and Sniper had gotten stuck together. Not that it was any issue for Scout, though. He figured the Australian wouldn't mind sticking with him for a little while, and so far, he hasn't left. But it's too quiet, even for someone like Sniper, the least talkative member on the team.

"Hey, you think the others are alright?" Scout looks at the marksman.

"Why wouldn't they be? They've better aim when close up than I ever bloody will." Sniper glances at Scout before returning his gaze to the hallway ahead of them. Broken robots lay littered about.

"Someone was here." Sniper frowns. "They must not be far."

"No shit, Sherlock-- is that blood?" Scout frowns, the red stain on the floor catching his attention.

"Yeah. Trail o' it, too..." Sniper frowns. "You follow it. I'll make sure there's no more of the bloody boltheads comin' down the halls."

"Gotcha." Scout quickly begins to follow the trail until he reaches the end of the hallway, where the rough smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.

"Ah. It's you." The voice of Spy says from the dark, and Scout flicks the lights on. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't... this.

Spy's injured badly. There's blood staining his suit in multiple areas, and what appears to be a gunshot wound to his upper body seems to be the main cause.

"Holy crap...!" Scout quickly snaps out of the trance he was in, and opens the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs through it, pulling out bandages. Of course he'd forgotten the medkits. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Scout, I am no doctor, but I don't think a simple band aid is going to heal a bullet wound." Spy glares at the runner.

"I'm tryna help you, man! Cut me some slack." Scout scowls, and Spy just sighs.

"Scout. Just... stop. I'm not making it out of this room alive. My leg is broken and I've been shot four times. It's a miracle I'm not already dead." Spy pushes the bandages away, fllicking his burned-out cigarette away with his other hand.

"Well... that's just morbid. I can use comms to get Snipes to find Doc?" Scout reaches for his headpiece, but Spy shakes his head.

"I want you to listen to me, boy. I don't want to be saved. I've accepted that I'm not going to make it out of here. It's better this way."

"Spy--"

"Shut up!" Spy raises his voice to a yell, before letting out a pained sigh, propping himself higher up against the wall. "Just... listen to what I have to say, Jeremy."

Scout's eyes widen slightly. He isn't wearing his dog tags, there's no way Spy could've known.

"How--"

"This will... sound familiar, I hope. I hate repeating myself." Spy lights a second cigarette. Hesitating. "27 years ago, I met a beautiful woman. She was everything I could've wished for... and we were happy together. As Tom Jones would say, I... dropped a 'sex bomb' on her. I was young then, and I ran from the explosion."

It all sounds so familiar. Had Scout heard this before? Where? When...? He can remember someone saying this to him...

Holy. Crap.

"You... You were the Tom Jones that I saw." Scout whispers. Spy just nods.

"I... It is one of my many regrets, leaving you and your mother behind. I was a coward. I suppose I still am, since it would seem I can only admit to this on the edge of death." Speaking is getting more difficult for Spy, and Scout can tell, hesitating before lowering his headpiece.

"Snipes. Find Doc. Hurry."

"Mate-? Wha--" The Australian's cut off as Scout tosses the headpiece aside, and Scout kneels at Spy's side.

"You're my dad. I-- I can't let you just... die here! There's... so much lost time to be made up." Scout starts unravelling the bandage. Maybe it's the shock stopping him from feeling the pain in his leg from a loose nail digging into his knee, maybe it's the sudden adrenaline rush. Doesn't matter. Spy needs to make it out of this alive.

"Jeremy." Spy's voice is calm, with the slightest hint of pain in it. Scout looks up at Spy, who takes his mask off.

He looks just like how Scout's ma had always described him, just... older, with streaks of grey in his styled-back hair and dark circles under his eyes that Scout had never noticed before. But they share the same blue eyes.

"I am proud to see the man you've become. You've made good friends. Your mother did amazing raising you." Spy pulls a photo from his suit pocket, holding it out to Scout. "Here. I kept this when I left. I always have it with me."

It's a photo of 2 year old Scout, with his mother and Spy sitting beside him, watching him open his christmas present: A baseball bat.

Scout looks back at Spy, his vision blurry. Spy smiles at him, whispering something in French that Scout can't understand, and Scout can see the life leave Spy's eyes.

"Dad?" Scout's voice is small, his eyes wide, staring at Spy's motionless body. He tentatively reaches over and shakes Spy's shoulder, but the Frenchman doesn't respond. He's dead. Forcing back a sob, he pulls the corpse into a hug as the sound of footsteps behind him come closer and closer.

Scout never got the chance to learn his father's name.

I AM SOBBING

THIS IS SO GOOD, I LOVE THIS! THIS IS JUST OUGH.

The angst got to me. I'm not gonna lie. This is so amazing, Anon. If you ever start writing these on your blog (or if you already do), please let me know because I will be your number one fan, I swear 💪

Thank you for sending this in. It is very much appreciated. Keep up the good work. You're an amazing writer, and I literally can't compliment you enough!!!

[crossroadsnumber1doctor]

{ this post is entirely ooc }

Hello there! Welcome to this Roleplay Blog out of a million however you might have gotten here. First, something important to get out of the way before getting into the actual intro info:

i am not part nor affiliated with the official BOGGIO team, personally being just a fan of the game / characters, and therefore nothing of which I say or do here should be taken as canon, this is simply a roleplay / parody account of one of their / PHIGHTING!'s characters. I can't possibly know every single detail about, well, anything and will very likely mess things up especially since I don't have a twitter and therefore can't exactly access any twitter posts made about phighting lore and such unless it's directly shared with me. Most of what's here is either taken by Soda's tumblr QnA, the Official Phighting Wiki ( the fandom.com one is outdated ) or my own personal Headcanons.

If you're still here and would like to continue reading this intro then without further ado lets get onto it ( click readmore )

( this is going to be a very long post )

---

This is primarily just another silly little RP / Ask / Parody Blog for Medkit from the game PHIGHTING! on Roblox. I'm not exactly the best roleplayer however and might possibly get a tad out of character from time to time if I'm not careful, which I do apologize if that ends up happening.

It might also take me a while to answer and respond to stuff due to the fact that I tend to like to think for a good while before deciding to do so ( or i might just straight up forget / get distracted in which case you are welcome to direct my attention back to it ).

I'll likely also send in some Roblox screenshots and such both IC and OOC. ( with something to differentiate which is which of course )

Although my art's not exactly the best I will likely try to respond with a simple doodle or drawing from time to time because well it's fun to do and I feel that it could make some things seem more interesting and such. :)

Most of the drawings and SS's here are simply my own but I will make sure to provide credits and such if I use someone else's stuff for my own purposes of course!!

Aslong as you aren't NSFW ( gore / graphic stuff is fine by me but will be tagged just incase anyone else isn't fine with it or is made uncomfortable by it ), Racist, Transphobic, Homophobic, A proshipper / comshipper, abelist, aphobic, zionist or otherwise just not really that good then I'm completely open to interactions most of the time! If I don't answer right away then I'm probably busy / distracted but I will try to get to it as fast as I can when I do notice it. I don't mind AU or OC interactions but try to let me know the context behind relationships and such beforehand!

I am relatively fine with shipping aslong as it, yknow, isn't bad, forced or a proship / comship or anything but due to personal preference and the fact that I do headcanon Medkit as Demiromantic I would prefer to take it slow at first atleast. I might also ask for reasoning though that's just out of curiosity if it's something I'm not familiar with.

The Mod / Blog Runner doesn't exactly take things too seriously most of the time and swears a lot so that'll probably reflect in OOC posts. I have pretty bad bad grammar / English aswell so if there's any particularly bad mistakes do make sure to point them out so I can fix them.

Not sharing the main blog for the time being but if you do recognize me then.. Hiiiii!

All in all, I am looking forward to interacting with this community and seeing what happens! :D

---

Pronouns for Medkit - He / Him

Pronouns for Mod / Blog Runner - He / It / They / Xe

---

Caution;

Do take in account that due to the nature and backstory of the character that this blog revolves around it will likely touch on some topics of extreme violence or atleast the aftermath of said violence, PTSD, Paranoia and Cults / Cult Life.

All of the above will atleast have an attempt to be properly tagged whenever directly mentioned / brought up. Please do let me know if I miss anything or need to use different / more tags.

More will be added to this if seen fit

Although for most of these I either have personal experience and / or tried to do excessive research about please do also let me know if I can do / portray something better!

---

Key;

Normal Text in any way -> OOC

Chat + Italics -> Narration / Actions

" Green Chat in Quotations " -> Speech [ Italic Green Chat in square brackets ] -> Thoughts

Bold text in any of these likely just means that it's important or atleast that it should be a focus point. Small text will likely be less important or whispering / mumbling / in a quieter tone of voice depending on the context.

Will add more if needed

---

Headcanons;

Suit / Main Reference made by myself.

If text too hard to or unable to read due to coloring here's the text left -> right, top -> bottom

Farsighted

Long Fur + Fands due 2 being blackrock born demon

Long, long-furred tail

Other than longer fangs nothing too remarkable about mouth

he / him under a transmasculine flag

Small Holes in gloves allowing unsheathed claws to stick out

Other;

Due to his current circumstances Medkit probably isn't really looking for love or a romantic relationship in the first place, nor would he probably be able to completely trust anyone viable for that position to get close enough or those feelings at the moment. That doesn't exactly mean he CAN'T but it's very unlikely.

Probably tired most of the time and all the caffeine from the coffee probably isn't helping. And back pain. Can't forget the back pain. This dude literally sleeps on a desk i cant imagine how that back feels.

Medkit usually doesn't let anyone other than the people he trusts on his blindspot / left side while idle and able just so that he can keep an eye on what's going on, frequently preferring to have that side closer to walls and other obstructions otherwise. Also likely so that he knows that someone would be watching on that side while he can't.

[roachesinacoat]

Oops *posts dandy’s world ocs just cuz i love them sm

First Emvi the envelope

Emvi is a main toon and is kinda a mixed bag with her high skill check speed and stealth so u can build her a decent amount of ways

Her ability lets her give a item (rare or higher) to a team mate for 60 tapes (like spout with his heals) her passive lets her see people’s inventory at almost all times (may cause some fights about who stole a medkit tho ngl)

Her twisted is hard to distract since her agro she will throw her head that she is holding (basically as if it was another piece of mail to deliver) at a player then have to go pick it up stopping her agro making her attacks pretty slow but hard to distract she cannot see when her head has been thrown and is laying face down so this is a good time to run past her just don’t bump into her (like walk directly into her) or she will swig at u

Her trinket (Care Letter) will grant the player a flat item (Such as small items like candies, chocolates, energy bars and even the rare bandaid) every floor if a inventory spot is open

Miss the Mailbox

Missy is a normal toon and a distractor her ability lets her give one of her items to another toon (kinda like cosmo with his hearts)

her twisted like gigi’s will steal a iteam from u but unlike gigi she needs to hit up first to take it

Her trinket (Missy’s Missing hat) lets ur toon have a longer reach for picking up items when equipped

TOON HANDLER

me realizing i basically drew myself but like cool looking in the toon handlers uniform 😔

always forget how big the toons are and then boom they are next to a person and it’s like Ooop jump scare

Anyway since Emvi is a main toon i gave her a handler like all the other mains

Emvi’s handler is named Fig and they are also tasked with making sure most fan mail/fanart made by the children get to thier respective toons (atleast i think they would take on that extra role since it seems like something Emvi would do being a mailman)

Anyway working on elevator convos between Emvi and the other toons and ones between Missy and the others too also working on the hurt,finishing machine, and ability lines

[phightinghottakes]

Hahaha, I'm back, sorry <3

Uhm this is rq, but I actually am not the biggest fan of most ships with Medkit. I feel like he's easily mischaracterized, and often jist made some grumpy twink. Also, I'm all for you headcannoning him to be whatever gender or blah blah blah, you want. If you wanna say that he's trans, whatever (even though the phighters technically don't have sexes). I just hate how people do that just so they can make him even more of a submissive, needy bottom. I'm not saying it's bad, it's just something that I avoid and generally dislike.

Now, I'm sure we've all heard the initial part of this rant, but hear me out.

The only ship I like with Medkit is Hyperkit. It's funny, because neither of them seem to be the kind to be in a relationship, and that's why I think that they're not. I don't think they would get together, I just think that they're relationship is not purely platonic.

It's a very random ship, and I get it if you wish me off the face of the planet for shipping it (although I would prefer to not get barked at again, please : D), it's just my little hot take. I simply think that Hyperkit is the only ship I've seen that isn't consistently mischaracterized. The age gap is a little weird to me (because I'm picky and have bad past experience with relationships [romantic or not] with people over 4 years older than me), but there are way worse age gaps. I won't delve into it unless I'm asked to or prompted to explain, because I doubt anyone cares, but ya!

Basically, Medkit is horribly mischaracterized in ships and the only one I ever see where he isn't and I also find reasonable is Hyperkit.

-- Thanks for reading my yappering, 🌒/🌔 <3

.

[occasionally-writing]

Soft Love

A/N: AND IT IS FINISHED!!! I promised a DanYok fic and I finally got it done!!! I literally worked on this WIP for most of the day yesterday and most of the day today just to try and get something done and I have to say, I think I like how this turned out. I know it’s been a while since Not Me aired but DanYok is always a favorite of mine so I wanted to finish this fic. I really hope you guys like it!!  (This fic contains smut!!!)

Summary: After Yok punched Dan and they made up at the art gallery, Yok brings Dan back to his home to patch him up and feelings get unburied and things turn spicy in a soft way. 

Word Count: 2651

Rubbing up and down Dan’s back softly, his fingers tracing his spine, Yok pulled the older man closer and rocked them side to side, subtly trying to ease the trembling of Dan’s body. Burying his face in Yok’s neck, Dan sniffled and clung closer, basking in the warmth he thought he’d never get to have anymore. After everything that happened, Dan thought he would’ve lost Yok forever but it seems like his…like Yok had a big heart. Ruffling the back of Dan’s hair, Yok squeezed his shoulders and gently pushed him back, chuckling softly when Dan tried to hang on tight, like he was afraid Yok was going to disappear on him again. 

“Hey, I won’t run away, okay? I need to see your face,” Yok whispered, his breath fanning over Dan’s ear, making his body shiver before he did as he was told, sniffing as Yok met his gaze. Letting his eyes trace over Dan’s features, taking in the sullen expression on his face along with the tear tracks trailing down his flushed cheeks, Yok rubbed away the tear tracks only to see more fall as Dan leaned into his touch, his tears still falling. Peering around them, Yok sighed when he noticed that people were beginning to stare. “Come on. Let’s go to my house and talk. There’s too much of an audience here.”

“R-really? Are you s-sure?” Dan hiccupped, obviously trying to quell his soft sobs, slight whimpers falling from his lips when Yok reached out and brushed his fingers through his hair. Ducking his face as Yok intertwined their hands, Dan stayed quiet as he was led out of the gallery and towards the parking lot where Yok’s bike was waiting. Pulling the keys from his pocket, Yok turned the engine on and climbed on the bike, slipping on his helmet. Hearing Yok pat the seat behind him, Dan sniffled and slowly shifted behind him, twitching when a helmet was placed on his head. “...thanks…” 

Clipping the clasps to secure the helmet on Dan’s head, Yok turned back towards the handlebars and revved the engine, hiding a smile when he felt Dan’s arms circle around his waist shyly, Yok nudged the kickstand back and drove out of the parking lot, the ride staying quiet as they made their way to Yok’s home. Burying his face in Yok’s back, Dan took in the scent of motor oil and paint, something that screamed purely of Yok that it made him smile. Speeding up a bit when they were getting closer to his home, Yok pulled into the lot and slowed to a stop. 

“We’re here. My Mom’s not home. She recently started a new job and it’s going great for her,” Yok informed, removing his helmet and hanging it on the bike’s handlebars. Nodding softly to show he was listening, Dan pushed himself off the backseat, pausing when Yok reached out and unbuckled his helmet, leaving it on the seat where Dan was before. Waving Dan in as he strolled in the house, Yok didn’t need to know that Dan was following since he could hear the other’s steps close behind him. “Go sit on my bed. I’m going to get the medkit.”

“Okay…” Dan mumbled, watching as Yok disappeared in what he guessed was the bathroom before he sat down, the mattress soft beneath him. Listening to the other rummaging around in some cabinets, Dan held back a chuckle when he heard Yok swear and then something fall. Stumbling out of the bathroom with a groan, Yok rubbed at the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin and flopped down beside Dan, placing the medkit beside him. Keeping quiet, Dan just observed as Yok pulled out some supplies and got to work, dabbing a cotton swab in the antibiotic liquid. “I…I can do it.”

Giving Dan a deadpan look, Yok waited until he huffed and sat back, letting Yok move forward to start dressing his wound.  Being as careful as he could, Yok whispered out soft apologies every time Dan twitched from pain, their eyes meeting once Yok was done, their faces so close together that Yok could see the slight freckles Dan had littered around his cheeks and nose. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yok kept his gaze on Dan while he put everything back, not needing any bandages since all Dan had was a split lip. Slipping the medkit to his bedroom floor, Yok shuffled closer to Dan and reached out, his hand softly cupping the ex-cop’s cheek, his thumb carefully smoothing over his wound.

“What made you come to the art gallery? I know you said you missed me but…” Yok whispered, his voice soft as if he was afraid it would break the quiet air around the two. Letting his eyes trail down to Yok’s lips, Dan licked his own and winced when it irritated his wound, his own hand reaching up to hold onto Yok’s wrist, making sure to keep the other’s hand against his face. Feeling his eyes do the same, Yok bit back the urge to lean in and capture Dan’s lips, obviously wanting an answer before they did anything. “Hm?”

“You said I should see the finished project…so I was just going to take a peek but then I saw you and…I couldn’t leave without trying to talk to you,” Dan sighed out, his voice displaying everything he was feeling in that moment, the longing and sadness heavy in his tone. Meeting Dan’s eyes again, Yok found himself shifting closer, their noses brushing and their lips just a breath away from each other, yet not making the move to have them meet. Leaning forward himself, Dan laid his forehead against Yok’s, shuddering when Yok’s free hand moved around his head, his fingers brushing through his hair once more. “I know I deserved that punch and more…how do you not hate me, Yok? You honestly should…I betrayed you in the worst way possible…so why?”

Letting his eyes close when Dan’s pained voice met his ears, Yok held back the tears that were burning his eyes and threatening to fall if he didn’t close them. Giving gentle shushes when he felt Dan’s body tremble again, Yok rocked them and pulled back slightly so he could press a gentle kiss to Dan’s forehead, shocking him enough to gasp and their eyes to connect. Rubbing his thumb against Dan’s cheek now, Yok’s eyes moved down to Dan’s lips again, the urge to kiss them coming back strong and to the point where Yok couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Taking in a deep breath when Yok’s lips met his own, Dan bit back a whimper and desperately pulled Yok closer, the younger man almost in his lap as his thighs looped over Dan’s. Wrapping his arms around Dan’s neck and deepening the kiss, Yok nibbled his bottom lip causing a groan to slip through Dan’s lips. Swiping his tongue in, Yok let out a moan of his own when their tongues looped in Dan’s mouth, the heat making both of them dizzy enough to pull away, their eyes dark with lust as they panted for breath against each other’s lips. Leaning forward to press another kiss to Dan’s lips, Yok moved to take off his shirt but was stopped by Dan.

“A-are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty despite his clear wanting to keep going. Pausing at this, Yak swallowed and slowly settled further into Dan’s lap, his thighs now circling his waist with their hips pressed firmly together. Moving his arms around Yok’s body, Dan let his palms rest against Yok’s lower back, his thumbs peeking into his shirt. Meeting Dan’s eyes, Yok already knew his answer so he continued with what he was doing before and tossed off his shirt, the clothing flying somewhere in the room and Yok found that he couldn’t care less on wherever it landed. “Yok…”

“No more questions…I want this and I have a feeling you do too,” Yok whispered, his fingers gently tugging the hair at the back of Dan’s neck, causing him to gasp and jerk his hips into Yok’s. Thrusting forward when Dan’s hands cupped his ass, Yok grinned and leaned forward, nibbling down his neck and pressing a kiss at the point where Dan’s neck met his shoulder. Not wasting any time as well, Dan untucked his shirt from his pants and chuckled lowly when Yok couldn’t wait and yanked the shirt off him himself. “That’s more like it.”

Smashing their lips together hastily, Yok continued to move his hips into Dan’s, their moans loud in the quiet room. Pulling back with a grumble, Yok leaned back when Dan moved to unbuckle his belt, Yok doing the same with his jeans button. Rolling out of Dan’s lap to kick off his jeans, Yok gasped when Dan appeared on top of him and pinned him, his pants opened up but not yet off. Biting back a groan, Yok threw his head back as Dan buried his face in his neck, nipping at the skin enough to leave a mark. 

“Hurry, pants off!” Yok demanded, his voice deep with lust and want. Trailing his nose back up Yok’s neck, Dan bumped their foreheads together and attached their lips, releasing Yok’s hands so that he could do as the younger man said. Obviously impatient, Yok huffed and grabbed onto Dan, spinning them until Dan was the one on the bottom and Yok was on top, his hands pulling Dan’s garments off, underwear and all. Bringing the sheets into his fist, Dan just watched as Yok ripped off his own boxers, leaving them both bare. “Do you want to top or bottom?”

“....” Not knowing what to say, Dan felt himself choke up for some reason, the realization of what was currently happening finally dawning on him. Noticing the way Dan seemed to freeze up, Yok glanced up and felt worry bubble inside him, the look in Dan’s eyes causing him to pause all advances and reach up, slotting himself between Dan’s legs until they were face to face. Cupping Dan’s cheeks, Yok lifted his face and mumbled soft words when he took in the way Dan’s eyes were wet with tears that had yet to fall. “I’m sorry! I just…it’s just a lot…I didn’t think you’d want me anymore.”

Shaking his head to dismiss whatever Dan was whimpering, Yok brought their lips together in a soft kiss, the hot lust they were feeling previously now fading into something softer and less urgent. Pulling away to press tiny kisses to Dan’s eyes, Yok pressed one to his nose and grinned when it made Dan scrunch up his nose much like a rabbit would. Brushing his lips against Dan’s forehead, Yok continued to comfort him until he felt Dan’s hands cup his waist, pulling him close enough to where he was pressed against his entrance. Not questioning him, Yok reached towards his nightstand and grabbed the lube. 

“I’ll have to prep first…can I?” Yok asked, wanting to make sure that Dan truly wanted this. Nodding softly and letting a quiet, ‘yes,’ slip through his lips, Dan willed himself to relax when the click of the lube bottle echoed in his ears and the feeling of Yok’s fingers entered him. Taking it slow and being as gentle as he could, Yok waited until Dan was completely relaxed and prepped properly before he lubed himself up and pulled Dan closer. “Okay…ready? I’ll go slow so tell me if anything feels uncomfortable, yeah?”

“Y-yeah…” Dan whispered, his eyes fluttering closed when he felt Yok enter him, a gasp escaping his lips that made Yok pause, not moving an inch. Taking in a deep breath, Dan let his eyes open once more, their gazes meeting which let Yok know that he could move, not stopping until he bottomed out. Letting out a breath, Yok moved Dan’s legs until they were looped around his waist, leaning down until their chests were almost meeting and they were face to face. “Yok, it feels good…”

Feeling a blush rise on his cheeks when he noticed Yok observing him, Dan let go of the sheets so that he could hold onto Yok’s shoulders, squirming slightly so he could bury his flushed face into Yok’s chest. Chuckling softly at the sight, Yok slowly began to move, keeping his pace soft and slow, allowing Dan to feel everything and more. Whining when he felt Yok cup his cheeks, Dan didn’t fight his head being lifted, their eyes meeting just as Yok entered Dan again, a soft sound escaping both their lips at the feeling. 

“I love you,” Dan whispered, his tone heavy with so many feelings that Yok couldn’t pinpoint which one was stronger at the moment. Yok knew that he would have to work through their feelings but right now, his attention was just on Dan’s lips as he kissed him again. Pulling back to press their foreheads together, Yok felt his pace beginning to falter as the heat in his abdomen grew smoldering, warning him that he was close and by the way Dan was tightening up, Yok knew he was close as well. “Y-Yok…not going to last…please…”

“Me neither, m’close,” Yok moaned, his pace quickening to the point that the bed was beginning to shake beneath them. Not helping the cackle that slipped free, Yok grinned at Dan, who grinned as well, their lips meeting just as Yok wrapped his hand around Dan, jerking him at the same pace as his thrusts. Letting out a gasp, Dan pulled away from the kiss and buried his face in Yok’s shoulder, his arms pulling him into a hug. Hugging Dan just as close, Yok buried his face in Dan’s neck and nipped it. “Oh, god.” 

Holding Dan close when his body shuddered and he reached his orgasm, Yok held him through it and not too long after, Yok found himself shaking through one as well, his member being squeezed as Dan’s release began to settle. Rubbing his fingers through Yok’s hair and holding him until his body gave out and he fell onto Dan’s chest, Dan pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead and hissed when Yok pulled out, Yok rolling to the side so he didn’t crush Dan again. Reaching out for Yok’s hand as they both panted for breath, Dan slowly turned his head and smiled when he noticed that Yok was already looking at him, his gaze soft as the afterglow of what they did flowed through their bodies. 

“I know you’re probably tired but I think we need a bath…can you stand?” Yok teased, his grin making a snort leave Dan’s lips, a weak smack aimed for the younger man’s chest in protest. Pushing himself up carefully, Dan made a face when he felt Yok’s release slipping out of him. Doing the same with a huff, Yok rolled off the bed and moved to stand in front of Dan, not caring that he was bare for the other’s eyes. “Come on…I’ll set up the bath. Let’s wash up now and then we can cuddle and get some rest…I know we have a lot to talk about but we can do that tomorrow or something.”

Knowing that Yok was right, Dan nodded softly and reached out for the hand Yok lent out for him. Wincing at the slight ache he had, Dan grumbled something illegible when Yok snickered at him and allowed himself to be led towards the bathroom, the promise of a nice warm bath sounding wonderful at the moment. And even though there was a lot to talk about, Dan found himself dozing off as he was laid back against Yok’s chest, the feeling of the warm water and Yok’s arms holding him making him feel safe for the first time in a long while.

[opalthea]

It's almost the end of my birthday, so I thought I should at least spoil myself with a drabble. Spoiler alert, it's about Xiao so click away if you're not interested. ^^

Xiao's the sweetest lovebug I've ever known my entire life. Hear me out; it's really just about being patient and taking time while going into the relationship, discussing what feels okay and what's not okay. Not that I'm saying other genshin men won't do this with you.. but I think Xiao would stand out the most, or maybe that's just me.

See, like... Throughout time, in the ENG version, you can totally tell his demeanor towards the traveler (and other people!) have changed drastically. He went from "stay back, or all that awaits you is regret," to appreciating everyone who wants to be beside him despite knowing how dangerous he is (due to karmic debt) in the Perilous Trail archon quest! His tone of voice is ridiculously softer, and while he's as stern as he is, he's frankly adorable and I live for it.

Xiao would be such a doting boyfriend, I think. If you've got any injuries, he'd cross his arms disapprovingly, tells you to sit down somewhere comfortable, and fetches you a medkit. Though yakshas have no need for any medication, you do. He's willing to learn how to heal mortal wounds if it's for you (the way he's willing to go over seas of people just to understand you).

I don't think he'd be a stranger to touch. He acts too similarly to that of a cat, though! I could say that it just depends on what his mood is. I don't think he's one to shy away from touch, but maybe if he doesn't feel like it, or thinks that holding him might harm you, he'd politely reject it for the time being. It doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it nonetheless!!! I am a BIG fan of "Xiao loves forehead kisses" because there HAS to be a reason he's got a little diamond on his head <33

I personally think he LOVES handholding. It's one of the most emotionally intimate contacts aside from kissing. He wouldn't hold your hand firmly if you're just hanging out, but would definitely just link your fingers and be done with it. Pinkie links!!

What else makes him a sweetheart? He always expresses that he's ready to do just about anything if it's us. He takes his loyalty and honesty very seriously (see: contract with Morax, and the promise he made to Traveler). I also think that there's some beauty in the world he's never gotten to experience, so it'll be wonderful to see what he thinks of certain things! For example, the view of Dragonspine, the taste of other sweet, easy to eat dishes, festivals (yes, please! He doesn't need to go to crowds, though!!), and many more :D

That's all though.

Happy birthday to me <3

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 10

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette’s collection of vigilantes in her house was still growing, somehow. You’d think it would stop with just the ones that consistently lived in Gotham, but no.

Nightwing started dropping by whenever he was in town to try and teach her escrima. She wasn’t good with them because she wasn’t used to fighting people up close, but she didn’t really think that that was the reason why they were doing it.

Still, it was fun…

(Except for that one time they’d been heading back to her house and she dropped her phone down the drain and had to beg the rat-person -- she was pretty sure Nightwing had called them Ratcatcher? -- for help. It was very traumatizing. He’d given her a new phone but she was never going to recover emotionally from that day.)

And then, a few days before Thanksgiving, Flamebird had made an appearance.

The reason why was less fun, though.

She’d opened her blinds and stared at him for a few moments. He was leaning against her fire escape, hand pressed to his stomach.

“Hey, Robin, does Flamebird usually do the Napoleon pose?”

“The…? Oh, no, he does not.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I thought so.” She swung her window open. “Hi. Nice to meet you. What happened?”

“Got stabbed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, obviously, want to elaborate?”

“Got stabbed in the stomach,” he said, after a second’s thought.

So, no, then. She shrugged to herself and let him come inside.

“Right, Robin, go get the medkit out from under my sink,” she said, pulling a hairband from her wrist and tying her hair back.

Flamebird frowned. “Can’t you just undo everything with your magic?”

“Not magic,” supplied Tikki, popping her head out of Marinette’s pocket.

“FUCK,” yelped Flamebird.

Damian made the quiet clicking sound he made whenever he was about to say something rude but Marinette cut him off with a glare and pointed him towards the bathroom. Damian grumbled a little under his breath but obeyed for fear of being thrown out.

She turned back to Flamebird. “Also, that’s not how my ‘magic’ works. If I’m not involved in a fight…” She made a ‘poof’ motion with her hands. “No miracle cure.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, if I’d known that I would’ve just dealt with this myself.”

“Well, it is too late for that,” said Damian, who had come back out with a medkit. “Now, sit down, we will tend to your wound.”

And they did.

(Or, rather, Marinette did. It didn’t matter if she knew, logically, that he already knew how wounds looked and how to treat them, she just didn’t feel comfortable making him help. She sent him off to play with the cat and worked on dressing it. She’d made a mistake here by doing the normal routine while stitching someone up: asking about things they liked to distract them. He said he was an ‘avid reader’, she’d laughed and said that she probably wouldn’t know any of the books he mentioned because she hardly ever read in English, and now she was apparently in a book club. That was on her, she supposed, but it was still a little irritating.)

And that was all the vigilantes. They all came over from time to time. Sometimes they’d see each other and give each other awkward smiles or actively ignore each other, but it became a constant part of her life.

But it all came to a head one seemingly regular day.

She had been walking up the stairs to her apartment with Tim, ten bags of groceries loaded onto her arms and five on his (he was to open the door), and had nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“Cass?” He asked, confused.

She raised her eyebrows just slightly. She’d thought everyone knew about each other but, now that she thought about it, because of the scheduling Tim wouldn’t really be around when everyone else came by.

He took Cass’s arrival in stride, though, fishing his key out of his pocket and pushing the door open.

He did not take in stride the fact that Duke, Damian, and Nightwing were all inside her house already. Duke was sitting on her counter, wrapped in a blanket as he scrolled through his phone. Damian was playing with Vanelope. Nightwing was doing stretches on her floor.

“Hey, look, more people that don’t live here,” Marinette said with only a hint of bitterness.

Nightwing glanced up. “You’re out of chips.”

“Already --?!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Fine. Fine. I got more, anyways.”

Tim snapped out of it. He closed and locked the door quickly before sending Marinette a pout. “Alright, I can get you cheating on me with Cass, but come on,” he half joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “If one of the people I’m apparently cheating with is a five-year-old --.”

“TWELVE.”

“-- then I think you have more things to worry about than my serial adultery, darling.”

“... guess that’s true.”

“Also, I only buy groceries with you, so you’re clearly my favorite concubine.”

Duke grinned. “Actually --.”

“Except for that one time I asked Signal to go find ricotta because I’d forgotten it,” she conceded. “I guess he's my second favorite.”

Cass pouted and raised her hand.

“She makes a good case for herself. You’ve both been demoted,” she joked.

Tim was still pouting. Probably has something to do with going from favorite to second favorite. Who knows.

She rolled her eyes. She had bigger problems. Like her food. There were frozens and she was not going to lose her food to something as stupid and useless as the air. She waved him along as much as she could with the bags digging into her arms and started putting things away.

She tipped her head back after a second to squint at everyone. They were awkwardly staring at each other, for some reason… oh, right, they technically didn’t know each other.

“Uh, introductions, I guess. Signal, Robin, and Nightwing, meet my friends. Tim, Cass, meet my annoyances.”

Tim perked up a little at being called a friend rather than an annoyance. Problem solved. Kind of.

He set down his bags and leaned close to her ear. “So, they don’t know you know?”

“Duke does,” she mumbled back. “I’m not going to tell them about it, though, I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

He snickered. “I can get behind that.”

“Good. You didn’t have a choice in the matter,” she joked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose.

She could hear Cass groan a little at the obvious affection and both Duke and Damian cringed. She fought the urge to laugh. It was just a little kiss on the nose, they didn’t have to act like it was scandalous or gross.

But, apparently, it was gross enough for Damian to grab her arm to try and pull her attention away from Tim (and physically pull her away from him, she noted, as she was forced to take a half-step back from him).

“Did you get more of my gummy bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you ask for them? Did you tell me you were out?”

He looked a little put out and she felt bad enough to give up the act quickly:

“Yes, kid, I got you your weird vegan gummy bears.”

He beamed and started sifting through her bags.

She smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, ignoring the knife that was sent her way for the action with practiced ease, then started putting things away.

Everyone except Damian made their way over to help. There were no ulterior motives, they insisted, even as she watched Nightwing slip a bag of chips into Damian’s hoodie for safekeeping and Duke pocket an apple.

At least Cass and Tim were reasonably well-behaved, she thought right before she watched him split an orange with her.

~

Tim squinted at the three people below him.

Jon had come to visit because a) the no metas in Gotham rule had more or less stopped being enforced due to constant complaints from the Justice League, b) Damian needed friends his age, and c) it was Christmas and Jon was so sure that this year was going to be the year that Damian finally understood the holiday.

And, because Jon had come to visit, so had Conner. The worst part of being an older brother that Tim understood all too well.

But, now, he looked down at the three people gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

They were apparently competing to see who could be the stupidest. Steph was standing on a banister, Marinette was trying to sit on a vertical bo staff, and Conner was doing a handstand on both of their heads. It was a little shaky, what with Steph’s barely restrained laughter and the fact that bos are not meant to be balanced on and Conner trying to do tricks, but they were clearly having fun.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the entrance to the cave. Did he have a type?

Their comms crackled to life and all three went stock-still, grins wiped from their faces briefly as they listened to see what had happened.

“I am requesting the night off to have an outing with Superboy.”

Bruce gave the grunt that meant ‘fine’.

The three relaxed now that they knew that everything was okay, quickly going back to their game. Marinette had added a surfboard. Steph was struggling with an exercise ball. Conner was slowly taking off fingers.

Tim sighed to himself. Yep. Dumbasses who can only be serious for truly important things -- and, even then, only for a few seconds at a time. That was his type. Someone, please, save him.

~

It had been a while since Marinette had gone out on her own (with the intention of staying alone, leaving for patrols didn’t count). Really, she normally wouldn’t, but she needed to pick up a piece of fabric she’d forgotten to get the day before and it wasn’t even a meter’s worth. She didn’t need help for that.

Besides, going by herself was much quicker. She was able to go by rooftop as Ladybug.

Of course, going as Ladybug had a risk to it that she didn’t realize until it was too late: responsibilities.

She groaned to herself as she made to jump to the next roof and her eyes landed on a person getting mugged in the alleyway below her.

She looked down at the bag with her fabric inside it and wondered if it was even worth leaving it there while she got rid of the attacker. Most of the time the people mugging people in Gotham were using fake guns. Even if they weren’t, muggings were common enough that most people had little on them and were only slightly annoyed when people tried to rob them. The person below was no exception, it seemed. They scoffed when the gunman poked their back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” they said irritably.

Wait, shit, she knew that voice.

She squinted down into the darkness and, yep, she would recognize that almost unhealthily pale skin anywhere.

She dropped down into the alley between them and, to her slight surprise, it turned out the gun actually did have bullets in it. A shot rang out. She fell back a step, cradling her shoulder.

The gunman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to shoot her. It had probably just been a split second reaction.

Unfortunately for him, getting shot really fucking hurts and she was going to take it out on him. Especially since he’d been trying to mug one of her friends. She glanced back at Tim, who was shaking and a little pale, and grit her teeth. Yeah, this guy was fucked.

Eventually, though, the pain in her shoulder, worsened by all the movement, got too unbearable and she rolled off of the mugger. She tied the man’s hands and feet behind his back with her yoyo and, after calling Miraculous Ladybug, called it a day. She’d get her yoyo back later.

For now, she pressed a hand to her ear. “Hey, Signal, I’ve got one for you.”

“You’re joining me for daytime patrols now?” He asked, his voice somehow brighter than the powers he had.

“Nah, just happened to come across…” She considered embarrassing Tim but decided against it when she saw her friend’s face. “... someone getting mugged while out today.”

He huffed a little but she ignored it in favor of relaying the address.

The perpetrator to be taken care of, she turned to the victim. She didn’t know whether the rules applied to people you knew, but she figured she might as well go through with the normal procedure. Tim liked procedure, it might help him.

So, step one: connect with the victim. She unzipped her hoodie and smiled brightly, making sure her eyes crinkled behind her mask.

Step two: check to make sure they aren’t going into shock.

Normally, she was able to skip this step. The miracle cure got rid of it if they had gone into it before the attack… but his eyes were somehow both fixed intensely on her like he was scared she’d disappear if he chanced a look away and extremely vacant.

She took slow, careful steps towards him, hand out to check his pulse.

Once she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. Marinette didn’t quite know what to do. The part of her brain still doing the normal procedure told her to hug back because this was a scared victim that wanted comfort, but the other part was tempted to push him off to check for a concussion… even though, logically, he shouldn’t have one because she had cast Miraculous Ladybug so her arm wouldn’t have a bullet in it anymore --.

Oh. She was stupid.

He’d watched his friend get shot and now he was freaking out. Like people are supposed to do.

She hugged him back, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

“Would you like me to take you home?” She asked.

“My… my friend lives near here,” said Tim quietly, mindful of the fact that the mugger was still within earshot.

She nodded. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

He bit his lip so hard that she worried he’d break the skin and nodded.

She took him home and, with only a brief stop to keep Vanelope from escaping, set him down on the couch. She kept a hand touching him at all times as she gathered the blankets and pillows strewn about by all the visits the bats made. For once, she was glad she never really had time to clean, she didn’t want to let go of him when he was clearly so concerned about her.

Less than five minutes later she’d wrapped them both up as tightly as she could with as many blankets as she could reach. He rested his head against her shoulder, arms loosely draped around her under the blankets. Vanelope settled on their laps and started to purr; she made a mental note to give her a bunch of treats later.

But, for now…

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and waited patiently as he struggled to pull himself together enough to actually be present.

“Darling, I said I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’m not breaking that promise. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, finally releasing his lip to speak: “Okay.”

She pressed a kiss to his nose. A half smile made its way across his face.

“Now, how do you feel about Big Fish?”

He squeezed her a little tighter. “The circus scene is cute.”

She nodded her agreement. “I like the daffodil scene better, personally, but it is pretty cute.”

She turned the movie on.

~

Tim was sure he was overreacting. Of course he was. She hadn’t died, she wasn’t even hurt any more. It clearly didn’t bother her, he had ‘accidentally’ chosen that shoulder to rest his head on and she hadn’t so much as winced when he had. No, the only worry she had was about him.

So, he should be fine.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been shot and, for a second, he’d feared it would be another Darla situation. And he couldn’t deal with another Darla situation. He couldn’t. He had to believe that he was better than that high school Tim that had let all his friends die. Because if he wasn’t better than that meant he couldn’t have friends and he couldn’t deal with that either.

He didn’t want to be alone again.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He could think of a plan, surely. He was a planner, he found problems and he dealt with them. That had been his coping mechanism pretty much since birth and (if you ignore all the workaholic tendencies, independence issues, and General Trauma) it was working out pretty well for him. Can’t be sad if there’s work to do, after all.

Yeah. Work. He was good at work.

He bit his lip.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of being alone… which wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. Good coping mechanisms? In this family? Please. Next.

Alright, so the problem stemmed from his fear of her getting hurt.

Simple solution! Don’t let her get hurt!

… not as simple a solution as it sounded on paper.

She wasn’t going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. He wouldn’t make her, and she wasn’t going to do it on her own accord. Even if she decided to at some point Tim didn’t have much hope for it. Every person in the family had tried that already, it never worked. They’d say that it would be fine, that they were going to stop for their mental health or even just permanently end it… but family was family and how could someone sit back and watch family get hurt when they could do something about it?

So, that wasn’t going to happen. What other answers were there?

Well, he supposed that she had left on her own and that was the main problem. If she hadn’t left on her own then he wouldn’t have followed after her in secret and he wouldn’t have gotten attacked in the first place.

But he couldn’t be around much more without it being weird unless he…

He couldn’t…

Could he?

He figured it was worth a shot. And he should ask now. If she said no he wouldn’t have to worry about her thinking him weird, she’d just assume it was a request made while in the middle of shock and forget about it.

He hesitantly let go of his lip.

“Hey, Bean?”

She stopped pretending to watch Big Fish for the sake of giving him privacy. “Yeah?”

“Remember when… I…” He bit his lip, trying to think of a better way to phrase it, but he couldn’t. There really was no casual way to ask. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Can I, maybe, move in with you?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before quickly shaking her head.

He must have looked pretty put out, because she rushed to explain herself:

"You’re under emotional duress, darling, it wouldn’t be right to say yes.”

He nodded his understanding and it was silent for a bit before he eventually said: “But, if I asked tomorrow… would you say yes?”

She looked at him for a while, her face unreadable, before she gave him a hesitant smile.

“Well, I already said that you basically lived here. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything wrong with making it official.”

[vegetacide]

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 11)

Veg • notables: Still kicking...

As always TY @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97  cause they put up me invading their PM’s

Chapter 1|Previous Chapter | NEXT

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil/Kayo.

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 11 - Pengalihan

Thunderbird Two banked around the crest of a hill to come across a scene of complete madness.  The red and blue lights of emergency vehicles flashed all around, people were scattered about in unorganized chaos and a couple of GDF troop carriers had just arrived and were off loading personnel and equipment.  In the middle of it all sat Thunderbird One, her long streamline haul gleaming in the bright utility lightings that were being used to light up the mining sites service area.  She was  cordoned off and guarded  by a row of black and whites that were doing their best to keep the gawkers back and out of the way.

Hitting the comms, Virgil brought Two to a hover some hundred meters up the rise. VTOLs blasting the hill side and flattening what little vegetation still remained among the scree and debris that had been dumped along the embankment.

“Thunderbird Two to Scott. On site,  you got a place for me to set down.”

“I see you Thunderbird Two and I’m working on it. Veer left ninety degrees.  Once those dozers have vacated you should have enough room to set down and plenty of room to work.”

Virgil looked to his left and watched several hard hats racing towards a group of parked dozers in a back lot just behind what looked like a collection of construction trailers. From his vantage point he could make out a clear line of sight to the mine shaft so getting pods to where they need to be wouldn’t be a problem.

“F.A.B,”  He adjusted Two’s altitude to kill some of the turbulence rushing down the hillside and kicking up dust down below.

“Wow, it’s a mess down there.” Gordon said from his copilot seat,  his nose almost plastered to the right view port.  “Who’s in charge of this mess?”

“No idea,  it’s a collaboration of a couple big construction firms last I heard. No wonder Scott is having a hard time of it.”

The chair next to him swiveled in his direction and Gordon pointed a thumb back over his shoulder. “You don’t seem all that surprised by this.”

He shrugged,  his eyes scanning over his controls and keeping an eye on the progress of the dozers below.  “Been keeping tabs on the progress on a few engineering sites. This project has had a lot of set back in recent months.  The other construction firm was brought in ahead of schedule in hopes that it would speed things up. .  Stupid idea if you ask me,  they were no where near ready for the extra crew.  No way they could keep proper safety measures in place with these extra bodies in play.”

One of the many downfalls to projects of this nature. The money behind it all wanted results and their quarterly statement to be in the black. There were a lot of funds riding on the transcontinental transport tunnel that was going to bridge the gap between the Western tip of Russia through the Diomed Island chain and across to the Eastern end of the Alaskan land bridge.

It was a daring venture to say least.  The Bering strait was rough on the best of days,  trying to construct a tunnel system some fifty odd meters down in a sedimentary trench deep enough to hit bedrock was anything but easy.   An engineering feat of epic and mind blowing proportions.  If they could accomplish it,  the implications on commerce would be huge and add a whole new avenue for transporting goods from one end of the world to the other.

Top that with the latest in maglev rail systems and it would revolutionize the shipping industry.  Run with robotics and minimal manpower in transit,  low impact on the ecosystem once fully implemented and someone was going to be sitting pretty on a pile of cash.  That was of course if they could get it built.

One delay after another had plagued the project from the get go. From faulty equipment,  personnel issues and bad timing with the weather.  Now it seemed something had failed in a big way and from what little information John had been able to provide on route, there may or may not be upwards of forty six workers trapped down the this access shaft.

Securing Two, Virgil swung about and signaled to Gordon to follow.  Passing through the bulkhead they made their way to the pod bay, Two starting to rise up on her struts as soon as they had cleared the reinforced doors.  The hull beneath his feet rumbled as she trundled upwards but he paid it little attention,  pod assembly first and foremost on his mind.

“Grab a medkits and blankets and a couple backer boards,  we have no idea what we are heading into.”

‘Got ya,” Gordon nodded, already heading to the supply area at the back of the bay.  “Think John or Scott have any new info yet.”

Distracted by the controls in front of him, Virgil shrugged non-committedly. “Your guess is as good as mine.  Comms down the shaft seem to be fried and John was having a tough time getting thermal readings. Too many metallurgical components in the surrounding sediment are throwing his readings off.  We’ll have to take our own scans while we are down there."

“You think that will work?”  Gordon’s voice carried back through the bay.

The heavy assembly system kicked into life.  Not knowing what they were walking into, he decided against the track system and went right for the bifurcated spider legs and traction gear.  He just hoped that that tunnel wasn’t flooded, thought the pods could easily handle it.

He eyed his exo-suit a moment and with the easy brush of a finger on the console it unlocked from its loading bay.  Another quick flick and it was loaded up on the back of the pod.  Better to have it and not need it.

Task completed, he turned to give Gordon a hand with the gear.  “Ya,  it should as long as the tunnel hasn’t been too compromised and isn’t flooded we shouldn't have an issue.”

Gear stowed away, they climbed aboard the pod and without further adieu the heavy blast door of the pod compartment rolled up and out of the way.

The scene outside hadn’t changed much in the few moments it had taken them gear up and unload.  People were still scattered about but now the GDF was corralling them into groups further back from the shaft entrance.  Several bulky shapes of GDF flyers were circling above, kicking up loose debris as they chased off news droids that had invaded the DZ airspace.

Thumbing his comms, Virgil signaled to Scott and his figure appeared out the mess of suited and uniformed people crowded near One.

He didn’t look pleased to say the least, the crease between his eyes evident even from a distance.  His long legs ate up the distance, the GDF that appeared behind him forming a blockade to keep the riff raff at bay.

Virgil popped the canopy,   the plexi-shielding swinging up.  He squinted and grabbed his helmet as the one of the flyers came close, its Vtol downdraft warm and swirling up dust.

“Scott,”  He nodded with a grunt as he swung down out of the pod,  his heavy soled boots thumping.  “We got a sit-rep yet?  John was surprisingly vague.”

“Not intentionally.”  John’s voice crackled through the comms in his ear.  Virgil wasn’t surprised his brother had been listening in and his early words hadn’t been meant as a slight though he knew John wouldn’t take it that way.

“For a construction project this big you would think they would be more organized..” Scott huffed skidding to a halt, his eyes doing a quick scan over the gear that was assembled. “We’re getting contradicting accounts of what happened.   Some say there was a section collapse.  Others, an explosion of unknown origin.  I’ve taken some preliminary scans but the results are inconclusive.  All I know is there is a pocket down there about hundred and fifty feet down the shaft that’s blocked off.”

“Signs of life?”

Bringing up the scan details on his wrist comm, Scott pointed out the area in questions. “Audio’s picked up tapping.  Standard Morse Code but it stopped about twenty minutes ago.”

That wasn’t a good sign. “Number of missing still the same?”

“I’m waiting for confirmation.  More came up the shaft after the initial count.  Visibility is poor down there so we’ve had some stragglers.”

“Take the pod down, check the integrity and see if you can get further signs of life. I’m going to try and get the story up here and a firm headcount.  I’ll also relay info up to John. Comms in the mine are sketchy at best so line of sight is required.” 

“F.A.B.”

Eyes track the movement of the spider legged pod as it crossed the compound.  The machine was a wonder and from what he could see from his vantage point the interior of the pod bay it had departed from was no different.

The technology was revolutionary in innovation and design. International Rescue reputation was well warranted in that regard and he could see why his employer would be so obsessed with them though he knew there was an underlying darkness to the obsession.  He’d seen it himself a time or two.  Disposing of the remnants of whomever it was that crossed his path.

It was a thankless job but he was paid well for his efforts and his well financed employer never skimped.

Slipping between two of the many supply shipping containers that dotted one side of the service area,  he obscured himself in shadow.  Away from the hubbub and chaos of people darting to and fro there was little chance he would be spotted.  The GDF were too entangled in their own task of trying to bring some sort of order to the situation to take notice of one solitary figure.

He’d snuck around easy enough before the evacuation order had been announced. After the noisy blast of a  horn in triplicate it was as if he was invisible. The contradictory rally points purposely imposed and uncorrected making the ensuing tangle of people the perfect cover for him to slip in amongst the moving mass of bodies.

His counterpart had been waiting for him, standing off to the side and obviously not one of the many clambering workers with his pristine coiffed hair and tailored pants. The dirty hard toes boots a decidedly tacky but necessary accompaniment to his apparel.

The acknowledgement of the others presence  was simple and took but a second of eye contact and a briefest of nods. His associate then easily donned the façade of a simpering idiot  and joined the hurried workers. Disappearing as the first thundering roar of rescue entered the scene.

The man truly was an idiot though so slipping in to the role he was to play was only natural.  He really had no idea how much he was being manipulated. Every action, one his employer had direct,  every reaction one that was completely expected.

The association with the billionaire inventor was just one part of the puzzle, a naïve one at that as the twit had no idea who was really behind all the careful planning.  Planning that had been meticulously cultivated over the last several months so that all the players would be exactly where they needed to be at precisely the right time.

He knew exactly how important this next stage of the plan was and there was  the real threat of cold steel at his neck and an unmarked grave in his future if things didn’t go the way his employer envisioned.  Not an appealing end to his career to say the least.

Billionaire dealt with, he returned his steely gaze to the task at hand. Tracing the path the pod had taken he watched as the canopy opened and one of his targets hopped down, followed shortly thereafter by another and a greeting of sorts took place between them and a third.   He knew as much as his employer would divulge about the ongoing grudge with the first responders though he cared very little about the true nature behind it.

He was being paid handsomely for his work and the bonus of screwing over that family was rather appealing.  Taking them down a peg or two was something he had wanted to do from the first time he’d met them.

Further pondering though would have to wait for a more appropriate time as he had a task to complete.  Part one of the plan had gone without a hitch and the true responsible party’s identity was safely out of sight.

It was only a matter of time before their patsy’s involvement would be discovered.  He was a well known man after all. Infamously so when it came to International Rescue and he wouldn’t be able to hide in the crowd for long. His reputation for failure in his chosen field was well known and his employer had made sure that his ineptitude was something that couldn’t  be missed. Use of him as a distraction in the past had already proven rather successful in aid deflecting from their true goals and there was no doubt that he would be again.

He himself was a part in the grand scheme and he took a certain amount of pride in the subterfuge his involvement had incurred.  The Tracy family really had no clue. 

Leaning on the shipping container,  he zeroed in on the sudden bustle of organized activity.   It appeared things were moving again as two of the brothers hustled back into the pod and it started moving towards the mouth of the shaft.

Palming a small, encrypted communication device he quickly activated it.  “Targets on site and entering shaft.  Phase two is a go.”  

Message sent, he snapped the device in two and tossed it over his shoulder into the brush. His thick padded work jacket and mining helmet soon followed.  Straightening he did one final check of his GDF Blues  and stepped out  into the harsh halogen brightness of the industrial lights.;

8-8-8

TBC

Chapter 1 |Previous Chapter | NEXT

[renlimotroll]

Love by Daylight

Summary: Siruko-san was forced to cosplay as Feng Min for a gaming convention, and there he finds his me-meant-to-be.

Pairing: Limone-Sensei x Siruko 🍋🐶

Warnings: BL, Personification, Out of Character because it’s my imagination, Cursing courtesy of Sensei’s potty mouth, male cosplaying as female character (does this count as crossdressing?)

A/N: This was a prompt given to me by my internet younger sister Aki, who imagined Siruko-san cosplaying as Feng Min. It was too good of a prompt not to write! But I’d like to apologize for the delay; I’ve been writing this since December 1 and I am a professional procrastinator XD 😅. (Please excuse my pun for memento. I like to think I’m funny hahaha 🤣)

The art you’ll see here is made by my beloved friend and babe Sarah. Check out her twitter and instagram here! Thank you so much babe for bringing to life what I’ve just been imagining. 💙💜 (Please don’t repost or grab without permission as a respect for her hard work)

Enjoy~

"I hate you all." Siruko declares angrily while adjusting his clothes with a little more force than necessary. He wants to burn these clothes and maybe hit his 'friends' too.

Who wouldn’t, when they forced him to wear this China dress.

"Siruko-san kawaiiiiii~" Jiraichan squeals and everyone nods, even his younger brother. Siruko feels betrayed.

Today is TGS day. Tokyo Game Show is one of the biggest video-game expo and conventions in all of Japan, held at Chiba. Everyone wanted to go, even Minben-san, and Siruko was the only one who didn't want to. The Bintroll leader knows that he's being a party pooper by refusing, but he hates crowds with a passion. He told them to just go by themselves, but by true Bintroll fashion, they refuse to listen to their leader.

Siruko didn't even realize he was being baited into coming through that stupid bet. They were playing DbD and suddenly Hakotaro (his own brother, nonetheless! traitors, all of them!) made a suggestion that whoever gets memento-ed first should cosplay as their character. Jiraichan added that the loser must come to TGS cosplaying. Naturally, Siruko-san's gamer pride refused to let him back out of the stupid bet, and they even had Ichihachi-kun be the killer. There was no way Siruko will be memento-ed, he thought, and he was confident enough in his DbD skills. There's no way he will lose.

Or so he thought.

"Can you all stop staring at me!! Let's just go!!" Siruko stomps out of the hotel room grumpily, sulking in the entire drive. Thankfully, or maybe they all felt sorry for him, but everyone in Bintroll cosplayed as their mains too, so Siruko wasn't out of place. The Double Morell keeps snickering at him, and Siruko-san glares daggers at them, vowing to never unhook them next time.

Siruko sighs deeply as he begins to see Makuhari Messe. TGS might not be as big as Comiket, but holy shoot this was a lot of people. He doesn't even know why Bintroll wanted to go here--every single one of them are not good with crowds and people in general--but Siruko can admit there's some sort of element of excitement here. There were so many cosplayers and booths filled with merch, action figures, and so many more. It's truly a feast for the eyes and even Siruko starts to look forward to buying something. Maybe new gaming PC gear!

He just hopes he'll be able to survive the crowds. Siruko takes a deep breath and enters the convention hall.

Limone-sensei blinks at the flash of the camera but maintains his smile. The female fans thank him and he thanks them back for supporting his channel. He waves at the limojos and they giggle. Sensei sighs inwardly.

It's his first time attending TGS as an invited participant and not a normal attendee, and even though he's happy that he became famous enough as a game commentator to be invited here, he kinda misses being able to walk around normally without all the people recognizing him. His face is even half-covered with a black mask, and yet people still know it's him. Limone loves interacting with his fans, but being stopped every few meters for a picture is kinda tough.

On his way to the toilet, he sees some men gathered around something. He pays them no mind, but then he hears this.

"I said leave me alone!"

Sensei doesn't know why, it's not even a woman's voice, but it sounded so nervous and desperate that Sensei wants to come to this person's rescue. Upon closer inspection, he sees a person in a (really well-done) Feng Min cosplay, although the bright red China dress kinda clashes with the pretty purple hair tied up in a bun. Sensei can't stop thinking it was really cute, and then finds himself weirded out by the thought of calling a guy cute.

“Ne neesan, just one picture, come on! And maybe your LINE too!” A guy (who’s as ugly as Hillbilly in Sensei’s opinion) invades Feng Min cosplayer’s personal space and Feng Min cosplayer is obviously uncomfortable. Limone doesn’t know why but it makes him seethe in anger. It’s not in his nature to meddle, but a group of guys surrounding and overcrowding someone is not a pleasant sight. 

“Aho janai ka?! I’m a guy!” Sensei is impressed that even though Feng Min cosplayer looks so anxious, he still manages to fight back. “Heh really? You’re cute tho, you’ll do.” Buzoku-no-buzu presses closer to the purple head and gropes his butt, and Feng Min cosplayer squeaks. Sensei’s vision dims and he sees red. His feet bring him forward and he grips the guy's shoulder so hard he crumples down in an attempt to get away from him.

“Get lost.” He says simply, but his fierce eyes tell a different story. The other guys distance themselves immediately upon one look at him. Sensei doesn't wait for a reply and pulls Feng Min cosplayer to his side, staring down the wimps who were clearly more suited to gaming than engaging in real-life fights. At the back of his mind, alarm bells are ringing--he shouldn't be making a scene, especially someone with popularity like him. But Feng Min presses closer to him and he smells good and Sensei couldn’t think straight.

“Chill man, we didn’t know he had a boyfriend. We’ll leave.” One of the smarter idiots surrenders and tugs a complaining buzoku no buzu away, who was itching to take revenge. Sensei rolls his eyes inwardly; Hillbilly wouldn't even last a second if he fought Sensei. The pro-gamer was so worked up with adrenaline he didn't even realize to correct the guy about them being boyfriends. He glowers at them until they leave and disappear, and after that he hopes no one recognizes him. He can already see the tweets: "Limone-Sensei picking fights for his secret lover!" He groans inwardly.

“Ano… you didn’t need to do that, but thank you I guess.” Feng Min cosplayer says reluctantly even though he clearly was relieved, and he plays with his lovely fingers nervously. Sensei sees faint pink dusting his cheeks and has a split-second to think cute before he realizes he himself is blushing too, and he coughs slightly. Thank goodness he has a mask.

“What were you thinking, going to something like this alone, in a cosplay like that nonetheless?! Didn’t you know cosplayers are often harassed like this?! You should’ve at least brought a friend! Bakagayo omae?!” Sensei doesn’t know why he’s scolding this stranger, who in return gets surprised at Sensei’s strict words and squares his shoulders up as if preparing for a fight. “I have friends, okay?! I was just going to the toilet when I got stopped by those weirdos!” Purple head raises his chin defiantly and crosses his arms across his chest grumpily, and even then, at the back of Sensei’s mind, he thinks it’s cute. Sensei blinks, what is wrong with him today?

“Then go with your friends next time!”

“I will!” Feng Min raises his voice in return. “Thank you again and sorry for the trouble!” Feng Min stomps his way to the toilet, not looking sorry at all. Left alone by himself outside the toilet, Sensei shakes his head in disbelief and decides to go to another toilet.

That Feng Min purple head sure is interesting, he thinks, and hopes that he never has to see him again.

Siruko washes his hands in annoyance. What was that all about?! And he was starting to enjoy the convention too! He learns to cope with the crowds and get his anxiety to a manageable level, and with his friends he starts to enjoy looking at what each booth has to offer. He’s even bought some cute DbD stickers from this cute fanartist who was so grateful to have her first sell-out of the day and a comfy Lifeline hoodie he can wear all the time. Save for the crowd, the convention was really fun and nice and he was looking forward to watching some of the events on stage or even look at the indie game developers booth later.

And those weirdos just have to ruin his day! Mou!! He dusts off his China dress as he tries to shake his irritation off. But, in retrospect, the guy who just saved him, he’s kinda hot. His deep sexy voice sounds familiar, but Siruko can’t place where he has heard it. The way he stared down those weirdos even got Siruko’s goosebumps to raise, and even when he was scolding Siruko he kinda liked it. I didn't even get to ask his name, Siruko regrets. He decides to call him ear-piercing oniisan, because he has a gold piercing on his left ear that just makes him more seductive.

He comes out of the toilet back to the place where he last left Bintroll in, only to find no one there. No need to panic, Siruko calms himself. He tries looking around and waiting in the area, hoping that his friends will come back for him. But after a few minutes, no one came. Siruko starts to get restless, fear creeping up his throat and he tries to swallow it down but it’s like glass, and it’s getting hard to breathe.

Suddenly, it occurs to him that he just needs to call them. He pats his pockets for his phone, only to find out he has no pockets. Kuso China dress! Is this why girls always carry purses? Siruko thinks, because dammit why doesn't this cosplay have any pockets! He remembers that his phone is in his red medkit, an accessory to his cosplay, and he gave it to his brother coz he didn’t want it destroyed by bringing it to the toilet. AAAAA what is he gonna do now?!

Someone passes by with a burger in their hands and it smells so good, Siruko’s stomach rumbles loudly. The people walk by in a blur, and suddenly he feels so drained and alone. He finds a spot by the wall and slumps down, hugging his knees as much as his tight China dress allows him to move, hoping one of his friends finds him. Suddenly the crowds are too scary, and he can feel his panic rise up. What if they don't find him? How will he get home? Why are there so many people?!?!

He doesn't realize that he’s been spacing out until his view darkens, and he looks up to realize that someone was standing in front of him. Siruko looks up and sees ear-piercing oniisan, and it feels like he’s talking to him but Siruko can’t process anything he says. His chest hurts and it feels like an anaconda has been squeezing his body and there’s the sound of wind rushing in his ears. Ear-piercing oniisan crouches in front of him and tells him to breathe, to follow him… inhale… exhale.. Inhale… exhale…

“Oi. Oi. Daijoubu ka teme?” The voice snaps him awake, and Siruko responds, albeit too late.

“Hai?”

Ear-piercing oniisan sighs in relief, and Siruko realizes he was almost on the verge of a panic attack earlier and this handsome stranger had just helped him out of it. He didn't even realize there were tears pooling at the corner of his eyes, although thankfully they didn’t fall down. He blinks them away and tries to breathe properly again.

“Um…..” he tries, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had just saved him twice now. Siruko clears his throat.

“What the hell are you doing here, alone again?! Where are your friends?!” 

Why does a stranger scolding him make him feel calm? Siruko forgets his anxiety and relaxes immediately.  “I don’t know. When I came back, they weren't here. They have my phone so I couldn't contact them.”

Ear-piercing oniisan huffs. “Bakagayo. You should always bring your phone and wallet. Seriously, are you a kid?”

Siruko tries to pout in protest, but then his stomach rumbles loudly again. Heat floods his cheeks and he looks away in embarrassment. Is it possible for the ground to swallow him up right now? Entity-sama! Please take me! Siruko begs in his imagination.

He thinks he hears ear-piercing oniisan laugh but it might be his imagination, because suddenly handsome oniisan stands up and offers him a hand. Siruko stares at it (and thinks, wow, it’s so pretty, how does a man have hands as pretty as this?) and ear-piercing oniisan rolls his (really beautiful) ocean eyes and moves his hand in a gesture that means he wants Siruko to stand up.

Siruko feels silly and takes the hand (and somehow his stomach flutters but not because of hunger) and ear-piercing oniisan helps him up and tugs him to somewhere. “Ne, where are we going?” He tries to ask. “I don’t even know your name.”

Ear-piercing oniisan looks back at him and smirks, and holy shit Siruko’s heart clenches. What the heck?! “Just call me Sensei.” Ear-piercing oniisan replies, and somehow the nickname fits him. Siruko doesn't know why but he trusts Sensei. At the very least, there’s only maybe 4% chance he’ll be taken to a yakuza hideout or something.

Sensei stops in front of a food cart and the smell of yakisoba cooking hits Siruko’s nose. Sensei greets the ojiisan like a friend and the ojiisan laughs, pleased to see Sensei. Ojiisan packs two big boxes into a plastic bag and hands it to Sensei, winking at Siruko. “Enjoy your date Sensei!” Ojiisan calls loudly while laughing and Sensei tells him “Uruse na!” but he’s also laughing. Siruko has a moment to think what kind of relationship they have for Sensei to reply so rudely at the older man but Sensei drags him away and Siruko scrambles to thank the ojiisan and bow. Sensei tugs him again and Siruko realizes they didn't have to wait in line for a long time to get some food (and maybe he saw some people in the queue glaring at them). He’s late in realizing that Ojiisan just said they were on a date… and Sensei didn’t correct him.

(Maybe Sensei… likes him a bit?) (Because he kinda likes Sensei too, maybe)

When Sensei finally stops walking (just when Siruko was about to whine. Sensei walks so fast and he’s wearing these really cool sneakers but Siruko is wearing a dress, you know!! Please be considerate!!), Siruko realizes someone was calling his name. He turns around and sees Quartetchi waving at him a few meters away from them, but since there’s too many people Siruko has to crane his neck to see him and he waves back. Sensei follows his line of vision and lets go of Siruko’s hand (wait, they’ve been holding hands the entire time? aaaaa)

“Ahh good, your friends found you.” Sensei says, but his tone seems to be disappointed. “I have my own event to go to, so please don’t get lost or be harassed again. I don’t have time to babysit you.” Siruko grumbles and complains that it’s not like he wanted those to happen!! Sensei scoffs in response and fishes his yakisoba out of the plastic bag. He pushes the plastic bag of food to Siruko’s hand and leans close to his ear. Siruko feels like all the air has been knocked out of his chest. “Ja na, mata ne.” Then he disappears into the crowd like Wraith turning invisible at the sound of the bell while Siruko tries to reboot his mind which just short-circuited. His heart is beating out loud in his ears. He doesn't know why but he feels like he lost something now that Sensei left. Before he has time to process why he felt that strange feeling even though he just met Sensei, his friends arrive to his spot.

“We finally found you Siruko-san!! Mou where did you go?! Don’t leave on your own like that!” Quartet chides.

“I told you guys I’ll be going to the toilet, and when I came back you all were gone! Mou don’t leave me like that!! I almost panicked!!” 

“Maa maa the important thing is we found him now.” Jiraichan intervenes. “C’mon, let’s go eat lunch! Minben-san’s waiting in line right now so we gotta find a table to eat at.” The pink-haired guy pauses and notices Siruko’s food, then squints at the purple head. “Siruko-san, do you know who you were just with right now?” Jiraichan asks suspiciously.

“Eh? He said his name is Sensei but I don’t… really know…” Siruko trails, noticing the shocked looks of his friends. Jiraichan was the first to react. “EEEHHH?!?! How could you not know him???? Limone-sensei da yo! Limone-sensei!!”

“Dare?” He asks dumbly.

“Niisan, you seriously have no idea? He’s a famous gamer! I watched some of his DbD videos and he’s seriously, insanely good. How could you not know him?”

“NANI?!?! I knew his voice sounded familiar! How could I know, I was too busy being in trouble to remember that!! And I’ve never seen his face!!”

“Well, he doesn’t really show his face much.” Ichihachi agrees. “Wait, what do you mean you got into trouble?”

"N-nothing! Who said I got into trouble??" Siruko sweat-drops. "C’mon, let's just go!! I'm hungry!!" He herds them all away to eat lunch, all the while trying to look back to the sea of strangers in the crowd, wishing he could see Sensei at least one more time.

He never even got to thank Sensei.

Being invited to judge a cosplay contest is a huge honor, and Limone-sensei was really excited about it. Or, at least, he used to be, because now he's pretty distracted with the thoughts of Feng Min cosplayer. He wonders if he plays DbD too, if Feng Min was his main, and suddenly he thinks he would like to play with him someday. Now everytime he sees a Feng Min cosplay he gets sort of excited, but then they don’t have purple hair and he gets disappointed. He tests the guy's name on his lips. Siruko. Sensei thinks it fits the guy and is kinda cute like him. 

The event was about to start soon and he was on the backstage talking to one of the event organizers. Or he pretends to be listening, because Sensei’s mind was wandering back to that voice. He wouldn't mind hearing it again, but in the midst of these many people in the arena, Feng Min cosplayer--no, Siruko-- is just one of those one-moment encounters that'll never happen again. He feels sad about it and he doesn’t know why.

Until he hears that voice again. For a moment he thought it was his imagination, and wonders how weird it was for him to have hallucinations of a voice of someone he just met. But the voice rings out again, and Sensei strains his neck to look everywhere for it, not realizing how rude it must have looked for the event organizer talking to him. Hope rises to his chest, despite him trying not to.

Beautiful purple eyes meet his, and for a moment Sensei is mesmerized, lost and drowning in them. But then he sees they were eyes calling out for help. Sensei excuses himself rather abruptly to the annoyance of the event organizer and stalks forward to Siruko. How can he resist those pleading eyes? He'd do anything in his power not to see those again, because despite his bravado, his online persona of being a badass who can do anything, Limone-sensei is actually a softie, especially for cute things and Feng Mins in distress.

"We don't have any time, Sir. Please go to the backstage!" The fierce-looking, small lady organizer drags Siruko-san to the other side of the stage where the cosplayers are lining up for the competition.

"A-ah! Wait!! I told you I'm not in the cosplay competition! Matte--"

Sensei grabs the shoulder of the small lady, who shoots him a nasty look before realizing who he was. Sensei knows the organizer was just doing her job, but dammit Sensei is annoyed. "Excuse me, I think you got the wrong guy."

Organizer-san takes a double look at Siruko, who withers under the intense scrutiny. He somehow senses that Sensei is in a bad mood as he fiddles with his fingers nervously.

"Wait, you're not Takahiro-san?”

"I've been telling you for the last five minutes!" Siruko tries to shake off the woman's frankly death grip and runs behind Sensei as if taking cover. Sensei glares a little at Siruko as if saying, "You got into trouble again?!" and Siruko scrunches his eyebrows together and purses his lips in indignation, as if protesting that "It wasn't my fault!"

"I assure you, this person is just cosplaying for fun. We're sorry for the trouble." He forces Siruko-san to bow together with him, and the event organizer-san apologizes too, although she really looked stressed about finding the missing cosplayer. But Sensei doesn’t feel sorry for her; blame his lack of anger-management control. He’s too keyed up now, and everything is too sharp, and he doesn’t understand his feelings.

Sensei snatches Siruko's arm and drags him to the nearest corner, as private as the backstage could allow them to be. He's really pissed that all these bad things keep on happening to Siruko-san. It's frustrating and infuriating! Why was the world so out to give trouble to Siruko-san?! What if he wasn't there to save Siruko-san?! He remembers the blank look Siruko-san had earlier, when he found him beside the wall, gasping for air and trying so hard to breathe, and Limone hated that. He never wants to see Siruko's pretty purple eyes being so helpless and scared. His anger bubbles up like steam and he wants to lash out at something.

“Itetete Sense----!! Stop pulling me!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Sensei shouts, and Siruko stills. “Didn't I tell you not to make any more trouble?! What would you do if you were suddenly shoved onto the stage?! Don't you know how big this event is?! People would boo you out there and there’ll be pictures of you all over the internet and they’d make fun of you--”

“But it’s not my fault--” Siruko tries to protest.

“But you still should have been careful! I can't come to rescue you all the damn time! It’s like you’re looking for trouble just to see me! In that case, I don't ever want to see you again!”

Sensei freezes. It’s not what he wanted to say at all, but the damage has been done. He sees Siruko’s hurt look and he stiffens. In his frustration and anger, he took it out on the very thing he wanted to protect. He sees Siruko’s face close off and become distant, and he wants to take back the words, to apologize. “I- I didn’t mean--”

“I actually just came looking for you to give you this," Siruko thrusts a box to Sensei’s hand. “To thank you. But don't get me wrong, I never asked for your help in the first place. I never wanted ANY of that to happen in the first place. Anyway, thanks for everything. I’m sorry for being just a bother to you.” Siruko bows 90 degrees stiffly and runs, and Sensei tries to catch his hand but he doesn’t reach it and grabs air instead. He's too shocked at himself for saying those mean things and too shocked at seeing himself hurt Siruko-san.

He realizes he still has the box in his hands and he opens it to see a rabbit mask. The one that one of his favorite DBD killers have, which means Siruko knows who he is now. It was thoughtful, really, but right now it’s breaking Sensei’s heart. 

If only someone could shout “Bakagayo!” at him now, because he really messed up.

Siruko wasn’t going to cry, nope. He was a man, goddammit! And it’s not like he and Sensei were friends--they were two strangers who met in a coincidence. So it’s totally understandable that there’s a possibility that Sensei hates him. It was Siruko’s own goddamn fault for thinking he could be friends with Sensei, for his unrealistic expectations that maybe, Sensei would like to hang out with him (that maybe Sensei even liked him).

He reaches his friends and they see that something’s wrong by looking at his face, but since they’re the best people in the world and they’re his friends, no one comments on it. They try to distract him by pointing at interesting booths, and they even get to try some techie stuff and unreleased games even though they had to stand in line for a long time. It was almost fun, if Siruko wasn't distracted with the thought of how painful it was that Sensei never wanted to see him again. He just wants to go back to Tochigi now and maybe never ever leave his bed ever again.

Time passed by really quickly, and before they knew it, it was almost closing time. They were about to leave and go back to the rental car when Ichihachi-kun suddenly tugs him back. Turns out everyone stopped walking while Siruko kept moving forward. Siruko grumbles “What?” a little bit angrily and Ichihachi-kun points him in another direction.

Apparently Sensei’s been calling his name a lot, and now Sensei is wading through this huge mass of people just to get to him.

Siruko wants to ignore him, to just forget about everything and move on. Who was he anyway, to be friends with Sensei, who’s really cool and awesome and famous? Nothing will ever bud in their relationship, so there was no use hoping. Come daylight, they will be just two people who just happened to cross paths in a gaming convention. Nothing more.

But Sensei pushes back with all his might against the angry people who yell at him, and he sees Sensei's bright blue eyes, desperate for a chance to talk to him. And Siruko hates himself a little for not being able to turn him away, because he’s really weak for kind people. And no matter how much Sensei hated him, he finds himself unable to hate Sensei.

Sensei reaches them, gasping for oxygen like he just ran a marathon. People around them get annoyed at them stopping in the middle of the hallway, so they try to move to the side walls. Siruko sees Bintroll instinctively place themselves between him and Sensei, as if telling Sensei that “Nope, we’re not gonna let you hurt Siruko-san again”, and he feels so touched.

“Siruko-san.” Sensei gulps for air then tries, “I was… hoping we could talk… please.”

“Ehhh, I don’t know,” Jiraichan crosses his arms pretending to think, “...tell me, Sensei, why would I let you talk to my friend, hm?”

Sensei looks into Siruko-san’s eyes directly, and Siruko feels it… the sensation of the world being pulled to one person. His cerulean eyes were like magnets, and Siruko finds himself unable to pull away, attracted to it. “Actually, you shouldn't,” Sensei states seriously. “I’ve been a horrible person, and I’d even let all of you punch me right now because I deserve it. But please believe me when I say that I didn’t mean any of what I said. It’s true. I… I’m sorry, Siruko-san.”

And Sensei looks actually sincere. Siruko wants to stay angry for a little bit, but how can he resist an honest apology? He comes forward and makes gestures for his friends to leave them for a bit, that he can handle this. Mou, curse him for having a weakness for ikemen with glasses..

“Okay, you have 5 minutes to talk, then we really need to go back to our hotel. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”

“Right, right, of course of course.” Sensei looks flustered as he scratches the back of his neck as he stands awkwardly. "I… I didn't actually think I'd make it past the apology so I got nothing prepared… umm…"

Out of all the things Siruko expects, who would have known that Sensei is actually really very shy? Siruko giggles at the back of his mind. And because, contrary to popular opinion, he can actually be a little shit if he wants to, Siruko replies, "Well if you have nothing to say then I have to go pack my bags, Tochigi is a long way after all…."

Sensei repeats “Tochigi” as if trying to take note of it in his mind then shakes his head, almost raising his hand as if he wants to grab Siruko's hands but decides it was too embarrassing so he drops it. "Ano…. Let's exchange LINE?"

"Are you ordering or asking?"

"Asking?"

"Because you want to talk to me?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asking or answering?"

"Answering."

"And you want to talk to me because?"

"Because…. You're interesting?"

"You sound like you're not sure."

"I AM SURE!"

"THEN ARE YOU ASKING ME OUT?"

"YES!! IM ASKING YOU OUT BAKAGAYO!" Sensei yells, then blinks. Siruko couldn't stop himself anymore and laughs out loud. He wipes the tears in his eyes while holding his stomach. He can tell Sensei is blushing because his ears are red.

"Okay, but only if you beat me and my friends in DbD. What do you say, Sensei?"

And even though he's hiding behind the mask, Siruko knows Sensei is trying hard not to smile right now. Don't ask him how, he just knows. "Oh, it's on! I'd love to hear you scream when I memento you."

"Haha, you wish! You haven't played with me and my friends, you don't know how good we all are. We can fix the generators faster than you can blink, we'll be out in no time."

And Sensei actually laughs, the bastard. "Why don't you show me instead of telling me, Siruko-san." he says in a low dangerous tone, and it makes Siruko shiver in delight.

"I'd love to, Sensei." he whispers back.

Later, much later, after Sensei comes over to their hotel and sets up his laptop on Siruko's bed while all his friends are sprawled all over the floor in varying positions, and they're screaming and laughing and eating pizza and one match became five and suddenly it's dusk and they're all too tired but no one wants to miss Day 2 of the convention so they all go together with bags under their eyes, Siruko decides that may be conventions aren't too bad at all. Heck, even cosplaying as a girl character wasn't that bad, coz he slayed that look. And if it brought him to this moment, where he's dragging Sensei to all these booths amd Sensei rolls his eyes but obliges and he's being ridiculous trying to make Sensei laugh and Sensei, ever the straight man, says he's ridiculous even though he's also smiling, Siruko would gladly cosplay again.

He's being too cheesy, but he does think what's memento-be will be. 

The end.

Omake!!

Two years later.

"I AM NOT WEARING THAT RIDICULOUS THING."

"PLEASE SENSEI, IT'S TOO CUTE!! PLEASE PLEASE JUST THIS ONCE!!"

"I SAID NO!! GO TO HELL!!"

"I'LL GO THERE BECAUSE YOU'RE THERE YOU LITERAL DEMON!! IF YOU DON'T WEAR IT I'M NOT GOING!!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE! WE'VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR MONTHS! IT'S OUR FUCKING ANNIVERSARY GODDAMIT"

"YES AND THIS IS THE BEST WAY TO CELEBRATE IT!! MOUUUUUU YOU'D THINK AFTER ALL THAT SIRUKO-SAN ENDURED, THE LONG-DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP, THE MY-BOYFRIEND-IS-TOO-FAMOUS-SO-WE-HAVE-TO-MAKE-OUR-DATES-DISCREET, THE BASHING I GET FROM SOME OF YOUR CRAZIER FANS, YOU’D THINK SIRUKO-SAN DESERVES A REWARD BUT NOOOOO…. MOSHIKASHITTE, ORE NO KOTO KIRAI KA NA….”

“.........”

Siruko tries not to chuckle as his boyfriend, aka Limone-sensei, glares at him through the webcam. He’s playing dirty and Sensei knows it well, but in the end Siruko will win. It’s not his fault Sensei crumbles at the sight of his pien eyes, and he’s not above using it. It’s his perk, and he gotta use it to his advantage. 

“Fuck you.” Which, in Sensei language, means yes. Siruko lets a whoop of joy and Sensei bares his teeth at him like an angry animal. 

“I love you~ See you tomorrow!”

“Go to sleep, bakatare. I love you too.”

After a year of being friends and getting to know each other, and finally, finally Sensei asking him to be his, and them going out for a year, it’s nice. They’ve been through ups and downs, sure, but just like any game, they learn from their mistakes and improve. It wasn’t easy, it never was, but Sensei was the yin to his yang. Where Sensei was cold and easy to get angry, Siruko was warm and quick to forgive. Where Siruko has insecurities and anxieties, Sensei was the confidence that pulls him through and fights the negativity away. It was easier because of that. Even if they’re opposites, they complement each other. They don't even fight about anything, because despite his badass reputation, Sensei is a softie who’s very very weak to Siruko’s attempts at being cute, and Siruko had always been patient and understanding and it was easy for him to accept the downsides of dating someone as famous as Sensei.

And tomorrow, they’ll go back to where it all started, the gaming convention where they met. Siruko was planning to wear Feng Min’s bunny jacket as a lowkey cosplay and Sensei needs to wear that bunny Huntress mask if he values his life, so they can both have something bunny-like and DBD-like. It’s cute and ridiculous, exactly like his relationship with Sensei. Siruko can't help but giddy about it. It’s Love by Daylight after all.

THE END.

[vrokhakan]

Another day away from his homeworld- away from his life and all his accomplishments. Back on Mido he had been somebody. Not famous or rich. But somebody. Field commander of a prominent private military contractor. And he'd worked very hard to get there. But here fresh on Sigma Rhada he had less clout than a two year old. The only meaning the name Vrok Hakan held here was a monthly lease in a ratty apartment building and a growing tab at the liquor store. At least the people were familiar. There were pockets of midoans scattered throughout the planet- most of the ones in this community were made up of refugees. People who were tired of the skirmshes between the city and forest dwellers or had lost everything because of them. Back home the two sides fought incessently. Here they were just happy to have more of their kind around. A midoan of either side was better than none at all.

Vrok pushed aside the front door of the low quality apartment building and climbed up the steps. The sounds of each room bled out into the hallway into a racket that made him miss the street noise. A hand planted onto his chest and broke through the fog of alcohol that kept his mind dwelling on the differences from his homeworld. Fingers snapped in front of his eyes and he craned his head down at the man who'd stopped him in the hallway. The man was older than Vrok- he'd been an adult more than half his life by this point- and dressed way too loudly to live in this part of the neighborhood.

"Hey. Did you hear me? I said: Do. You. Live. Here."

He pushed the man's hand away from his face, "Why do you care?"

"It's collections time," the man said, speaking in a way he might to somebody who was either simple or didn't understand their language.

"I already paid rent this month."

"What? No not rent- Oh I see. You must be new here. This isn't for rent. Everybody in the building chips in a small fee each month for security. It helps keep the bounty hunters from moving in here."

"Let them come here. What are they going to do? Steal the refrigerator out of my apartment? Because that's the only thing in there worth taking. And even then the damn thing rattles all night."

The man shook his head and spoke with a waning level of patience that already seemed low to begin with. "Look, bud, don't make this hard. Everyone here pays."

"Not everyone," Vrok said and pushed his way passed. The haze returned and when it cleared Vrok was climbing onto the couch of his living room with an old itchy blanket tugged over the thick orange and red-tipped fur of his arms. A thankfully dreamless sleep took over until being broken by a loud knock on his door. He sat up and took a deep breath, pinching between his tired eyes then turning to look out the window. Mid-day from the look of it. The day had started without him and it looked like he'd have to play catchup.

He groaned and tossed the blanket aside, unraveling where his wifebeater was bunched from a night of tossing and turning. "Just give me a minute, fuck," he muttered and grabbed a dark bottle on the table across from the couch. He shook it about and sighed. Empty. He'd have to do another beer run once he was done with whoever this was. The midoan took a deep breath and sighed standing up. Another knock, "Yeah I hear you. I'm coming, shit."

He walked across the room to the door and pulled it open. Vision flashed white and a shock of pain shot through his nose. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.

Through the pain he could hear voices, "Yeah that's the one."

Another pain the size of a boot flared up in his stomach and then another in his back.

"Let's just see if you've got more than a dying refrigerator in here."

Another hit to the face left Vrok curled into a ball and covering as much of himself as he could. But no matter where he covered they always managed to find an equally bad spot to hit.

"Well damn I guess he wasn't lying. Look at this shit. The most he's got is a bar's worth of empty bottles."

"Hey, Arn! Take a look at this."

"Hoho. Maybe I spoke too soon. This armor should be worth quite a bit."

Vrok's ears perked up and his eyes opened wide. The pain flaring up through his body seemed to dull down and the heat flushed from his face. "Don't you touch that armor!" he yelled out.

"Think of it as a late fee for missing your security payment."

The midoan scrambled to his feet, barely even registering the kick to his mouth on his way up.  One of the men caught him by the fabric of his shirt and held him in place. The alien was much stockier than a midoan and even if Vrok was strong for his species it was still too much to overpower him. The one holding him spoke something that went unheard to Vrok as the man from the day before came into view carrying pieces of white and red body armor. His eyes widened at the sight of his last connection to his previous life went strolling out towards the door.

His hand lowered down to his side and fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle he'd checked earlier. Vrok swung it up and into the alien's head. Glass shattered and left the man reeling back. He charged the alien to their side who'd helped with the beating and drove the remnants of the bottle up into his throat. Vrok held the dying alien up and looked to his belt. If there was one thing Sigma Rhada had plenty of it was cheap guns like the one he found nestled in the waistline of the alien's pants.

He pulled it and turned to find the glassed alien charging at him. He fired two shots into him and side-stepped the falling body. Another of the men was caught mid-draw and Vrok fired three rounds into him. The clatter of his armor could still be heard over the ringing in his ears and he turned to see it all in a pile on the floor with the man from yesterday running out of the room and down into the hallway. Vrok fired a shot that clipped him through his gaudy jacket and left a red spray on the wall. The sound of hurried footsteps told him the man had lived. The ringing of his ears couldn't mask the gurgling of the man beneath him squirming around with the remnants of a bottle still in his neck and Vrok fired the last shot of the weapon into him.

The midoan adjusted his armor where he had re-placed it on the mannequin in his closet. It was all squared away now. His eyes glanced outside of the bedroom where the gunsmoke had tripped the smoke detector. Vrok shut the door and sighed, moving back to wave the smoke away from the chirping machine. At least he knew the landlord hadn't cheapened out on faulty detectors.

He dropped back down to the couch and took a deep breath. He glanced over at the two... three bodies on the floor and the gun on the table. He tested another bottle on the floor beside the table. Empty.

"Holy sh- You killed them," came a bewildered voice from the hallway.

"Nah, they were like that when I got here," Vrok said dryly and tossed the empty bottle back to the floor. He turned to look at the voice through a quickly swelling eye. "Don't tell me you're going to miss them."

"No. No not at all. Those Rever thugs have been shaking us down every month for years."

"Yeah? Surprised this didn't happen earlier then."

"Nobody here's a fighter," he said shaking his head. The white-furred midoan stepped in over the bodies. "In fact, I was a doctor back on Mido. I work in the clinic over on 53rd. I could take a look at those gashes if you want."

"Veda, is everything okay over there?" another voice called from the hallway.

"Yeah! It's all fine! Hey, could you go grab the medkit from my bedroom?"

Soon a small crowd of the apartment tenets had gathered around, some coming by to chat about the ordeal or to catch a glimpse of the fiery midoan who had put an end to the long time thugs. The stronger stomached ones hepled scrub away the blood and glass. A handful of off duty 'cleaners' even helped take the bodies away. By the end of the day Vrok had been introduced to nearly every tenet there. His room was full of gifts from various foods to new decorations and even a new blanket. The bottles were cleaned up, stains were gone, and there was a standing fan cooling the place down and thinning out the thick humid air. Vrok didn't understand it but he wasn't about to refuse a few upgrades to his living situation. Even if it was only making a dead end life somewhat more comfortable.

A few days had passed by and Vrok had become more familiar with the people living around him already. The man didn't try to be social but he would get stopped now and again by his neighbors for a conversation and over time he started to learn their names. They were nice enough but didn't quite seem to understand that Vrok just wanted to be alone. If it weren't for the need to visit the liquor store then he would have merely held himself up in his room. But there was no avoiding it.

Given how fast the news traveled about his run in with the thugs he shouldn't have been surprised the day he returned to somebody waiting for him. One of the women from the floor above him was surrounded a few of the tenets. All outside of his door.

"Vrok! Thank the gods you're here. These men came to my husband's store. They started asking about money and smashing things and they started to attack him! He told me to find help- a couple of the people from here went to help but you're the only one of us who has actually fought these people."

He didn't know how to respond. He merely stared at her blankly and shook his head. "Why do you think I want to get involved with all that?"

"We don't have much but we could pay you.. something at least."

Another voice chimed in from the group, "I'll throw something in too."

"Me too," came from the other side of the crowd.

Vrok opened his mouth to respond but the desperate eyes of the woman and the crowd all on him caught the refusal in his throat.

"I guess I could use the money. Alright. Hold on," he said and squeezed his way passed them and into his room.

"Fuck me man," he mumbled and pulled a handgun from a holster on his armor. "Don't get me mixed in with this shit," he checked the chamber and tucked the weapon into his waistline. "I just want to lay around here in peace until I fucking die, is that too much to ask?" He popped the top off of a bottle and took one quick mouthful before hurrying back outside.

The store was easy to find. He could hear the commotion from a block or two away. When he arrived the windows had been smashed out and the inside wasn't much better. The store looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Shelves were on their side, products were smashed and strewn all over, and the group who had set off to help were shouting at three aliens. Two of the aliens were holding off the crowd with their weapons drawn while the third had a midoan by the throat against the wall. The man who must have been the woman's husband looked dead already- if he wasn't then it would be a roll of the dice if he pulled through.

Vrok ran his fingers through his mohawk and took a deep breath. He hadn't taken any money yet. He could just walk away.

At least until eyes had turned on the new arrival.

"We don't need any more of a crowd in here. The store's closed, get out," one of the lookouts said.

"I'm a friend of his," Vrok nodded to the bloodied midoan. "I'm not leaving until you do."

"Hold on. Doesn't this guy look like the one Arn was telling us about?" the other one asked with his eyes squinted over at Vrok.

The other one started to nod, "You know what, I think he does."

Vrok saw their weapons turn towards him.

"Hey, why don't you come a bit closer so we can talk a little," one said.

Vrok looked between the two of them. Eyes met. Vrok drew his weapon in a way he'd trained to hundreds of times before. Unlike before he wasn't reliant on the bottom tier garbage of Sigma Rhada. This was his weapon. A mounted sight settled on the first guard's head and he fired two shots. Before he'd even seen the result he had already switched to the other. They had fired already but weren't ready for it and their rounds went into the floor. Vrok's hit home.

It had only been a second or two but the men were dead before the crowd even began to scatter. The third thug dropped the midoan and held his hands up. A shocked expression was plastered on his face and he looked between the two and then up to Vrok. "Woah woah. Hold on. Don't do anything stupid-" A shot blew through his head.

"Get him to the clinic," Vrok said motioning to the beaten store owner.

Two days went by. Vrok heard through the conversations going around the building that the woman's husband survived even if he still hadn't woken up. True to her word she'd paid a small amount- he hadn't expected much. Not from anybody who had to live in that dump but especially not a near-widow with a decimated store. The crowd funding had made it worth while, though. Apparently all together the building could come up with a nice little sum. Suddenly Vrok understood why somebody would run a protection racket on it. If he made that kind of money each month he'd have nothing to worry about.

A knock on his door broke his concentration. This was starting to become a trend. He wasn't about to be taken by surprise again. He picked his gun up off the table and checked through the peephole. It was one of the more active midoans around the building. One of the few who had at least made the effort to show up to the store. Even if he hadn't done anything meaningful in the end. Vrok remembered him as Kino.

Vrok answered the door, "Yeah?"

"Vrok. Those guys you killed a few days ago? Word finally got around to the Reavers. People are saying they're on their way to the store and they're going to burn it down."

He shrugged at him, "And where do I come into this? It's not my store."

"Please, Vrok. These people left everything on Mido. That store is all they have. And if it burns down the fire's going to spread to the other buildings. Other people's lives are going to be ruined too."

"Well... I guess last time I got paid.."

"We gave you everything we could spare for that, Vrok." He glanced side to side, desperate to come up with anything. Then his eyes widened, "A bounty! A lot of those Reavers probably have a bounty on them. You could make much more than what we paid you last time- maybe even triple if you're lucky!"

"A bounty, huh?" Vrok rubbed his chin. He always had a rule back on Mido. Never take a job where payment is a gamble. But this wasn't Mido and he couldn't just hop over to another city to get a better contract. "Alright. But you guys are going to actually help me this time."

He sent Kino off to go collect the others. When they returned weapons in hand they found Vrok standing tall in a suit of red, white, and black armor. He slid a cigar out from a plastic wrapping and ran a knife around the back of it.

"We're all here, Vrok. You ready?"

Vrok lit the cigar and blew a puff of sweet wood smelling smoke. He nodded, "Yeah. Let's go put out a fire."

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

This is my entry for Olicity clue by @olicitytropes. I hope you can guess the prompts I was given even though I ran away with them as usual.

Felicity Smoak was accustomed to walking home in the dead of night. Her small townhome was on the outskirts of the Glades, the city’s most disreputable area. Usually she could drive her Mini to and from Queen Consolidated, but last month they had caught her speeding for the third time and taken her licence away. Now, she was forced to take the bus every day. At first it had been weird and scary for a woman who loved driving but after awhile she had gotten used to it.

Thankfully, the bustop was not far and on the way, there was a very famous strip club which had bouncers built like tanks in front. She felt safe walking by the Huntress because she knew that if she needed help she could always run towards it. Helena Bertinelli, the owner of the club, was a bitch and crazier than a bag of cats but everyone said that she was a passionate defender of women’s rights. Helena reserved all her wrath for men. Specifically, the Italian mobsters who had killed her fiance a few years before.

Felicity turned left on the corner and reached inside her bag for the pepper spray. This street was not well-lit so she had to be extra careful. She walked slowly but with purpose and kept her head on a swivel. That one was Roy’s suggestion and when she had admitted that she had no clue what it meant, he had alternated between genuine surprise at her lack of sports knowledge and scolding for losing her driving licence. Since Roy was the most street savvy person she knew, she had chosen not to antagonize him and follow his advice.

Walking by the huge dumpster, Felicity heard a grunt and a groan. Probably some poor animal suffering. Roy had warned her about stopping in the Glades so she took a deep breath and decided to ignore it. The grunt was louder the next time. Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached it carefully.

A leg became slowly visible. A long leg dressed in very distinctive green leather trousers. She blinked but the strange sight didn’t go away.

Felicity tilted her head and examined him. Lying on the trash, out cold but still breathing judging by the rise and fall of his chest, was Starling City’s resident vigilante. Her mind blanked for a few seconds. Then she pulled her phone out before she could second-guess herself.

“What’s up, Blondie?”

Roy’s voice was calm even though she interrupted his date night with Thea. She didn’t want to ruin that but she had no one else to call. And certainly, no one else who she could trust with a secret like this.

“Hi Scarecrow. Are you with Thea?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get out for a few minutes? I need help carrying something to my house.”

“Blondie, if it’s another Robin Hood framed poster you should know that-”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. Please, come. And Roy? Don’t tell Thea where you’re going.”

“Are you in trouble, Blondie?”

“Sort of. I’ll explain everything as soon as you’re here.”

“Where exactly is here?”

“On 7th. Behind the Huntress. Hurry!”

Roy let out a filthy curse commenting on her tendency to get into trouble and hung up without saying goodbye.

Felicity didn’t have to wait long - thankfully Roy and Thea were hanging out at his place tonight - before he showed up. She had stood still as a statue, guarding him, armed with pepper spray and determination. 

When Roy saw who was on the ground behind her, his eyes widened like saucers reminding her of a cartoon.

“Are you crazy?” he asked in a furious whisper.

“Perhaps. Can you help me move him to my house? It’s not far.”

“I should call the police right now. This guy is crazy, Blondie.”

“No, he isn’t.” She didn’t know why she felt so strongly about the subject.

“He has killed a lot of people. Lance is searching for him everywhere and you want to, what? Live a Robin Hood fantasy with him?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. For the first time she wondered if trusting Roy had been a good idea.

“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That when I started hanging out with you, everyone told me that you were a thief and a junkie. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and now you and Thea are my friends. You’re the only family I’ve got in Starling. Which would have never happened if I had heeded all these warnings. Doesn’t he deserve the same consideration?”

“Fine. Save me the guilt trip. But if Lance knocks on my door tomorrow with a warrant, I’m not covering for you.”

“Deal,” she beamed at him.

There was one slight problem with the plan. Lifting and carrying a 6'1", 180 lbs guy was easier said than done. In the end they decided to carry him standing up as if he were drunk which wouldn’t bring much attention in this neighborhood.

“Wow, he’s really heavy. Do you think it’s all muscles?”

“Somehow, I don’t think vigilantes come with beer bellies,” Roy panted.

The distance they had to cover was minimal all things considered but it seemed like an eternity to her. Roy didn’t say much, just carried the burden silently which made her regret the fact that she had cancelled her own gym subscription last month. By the time they reached the townhouse, they were both sweaty and exhausted. Felicity had trouble putting one foot in front of the other and had to promise herself two pints of chocolate mint chip as motivation.

Roy had to support the vigilante by himself until she could find her keys, a fact he did not appreciate, judging by his surly expression. Felicity unlocked the door quickly and helped him carry the man inside. 

“Do you think your neighbors saw us, Blondie?”

She shook her head and threw her bag on the floor. “No way. It’s too late. The only one who cares about my comings and goings is Mrs Fernandez but she is asleep at this hour.”

She took off her heels and focused on the unconscious man who was now dripping blood on her teal couch.

“Is he shot?” she asked Roy.

Roy examined him closely. “Nope. There’s a long gash on his right thigh, however.”

“Like from a sword?” She was equally fascinated and horrified. Lowly IT experts did not lead exciting lives. Her boring night had turned into an adventure.

“Who knows? You can ask him when he comes to.”

Felicity agreed. She fervently hoped she would get the chance to have a discussion with the man, crazy as it might sound.

“Don’t worry. It’s not his time to die.” He got up and considered her. “We’ll need some kind of medkit if we hope to take care of this ourselves.”

“It’s in the upstairs bathroom.”

“I’ll bring it. And all the other necessary items. In the meantime, you should take off his clothes so that we can see the damage.”

Felicity was tempted to peek under the hood. 

“Leave the hood on,” Roy warned. “This is one secret you don’t want to learn.”

She considered it for a moment. Mysteries were the worst. They really bugged her and usually served no purpose but to annoy people. On the other hand, this man’s identity was dangerous. She might be a bit reckless but she wasn’t crazy. She had no intention of becoming prime target for all of this guy’s enemies. 

She hurried to his side and put a hand on his neck. His pulse was sluggish but it was definitely there. Relieved, she began the process of undressing him. She unzipped the jacket and lifted up his T-shirt to assess the possible damage. His chest was lean but muscular, covered in recent bruises and old scars. Some of his ribs could be cracked or broken but without an MRI machine there was simply no way of knowing. Surprisingly, he had several tattoos but his chest was otherwise smooth. No sign of hair anywhere. She was momentarily riveted by the sight of an honest to God eight pack but she pushed the shirt down and covered him again before she could do something crazy. Like lick him. Right there on each one of his delicious muscles which up until now she had never seen on a living human being.

Felicity shook her head and tried to concentrate. The blood seemed to be coming from his leg like Roy had said and it looked quite fresh. Carefully, she unzipped him and drew the leather trousers down his legs. She had to take his boots off first though. He remained eerily silent, a fact which both relieved and worried her. Underneath he wore black briefs and she couldn’t help but notice that he was beautiful even there. Thick and long by her estimate.

“His wound is several inches to the right.”

Felicity blushed to the roots of her dyed blonde hair. She chose not to respond to Roy’s mocking comment and focused on the task at hand.

“You were right. There is a long gash here. It’s still bleeding.”

“I’ll clean up the wound and sew his leg. I sterilized the equipment as much as I could but considering the circumstances, I think this guy would prefer a little bacterial infection than going to the doctor.”

“I’m guessing the words hospital and police aren’t his favorite.”

Roy smiled at that and did a thorough cleaning of the wound. By then Felicity was ready to gag. It only got worse when he grabbed the needle and thread.

“Step aside, Blondie. You can clean him using the cloth after I’m done.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not a fan of pointy things.”

“You should have let him die then.”

She walked to the other side of the living room towards the kitchen.

“Why did you save him?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Shouldn’t you be more careful? After all, you’re piercing his skin with a needle right now.”

Roy saw through her evasion tactic. It was obvious from the way he clenched his jaw to avoid asking more questions. She wanted to answer him but she couldn’t. The truth was that she didn’t even know herself.

Why had she saved him? Well, obviously she couldn’t leave a defenseless man lying on trash dying slowly on the street. It went against every instinct. But bringing him into her house? That was so not like her. A long time ago she had been impulsive and careless but she had paid for it dearly. This was the first rash decision she had made in years. Felicity took a deep breath and pushed down the memories when they tried to raise ugly their head. Thinking about Cooper wouldn’t help the angry man on her couch.

Anger was the only emotion that he was willing to show. People had described their interactions with him again and again. Those descriptions varied so much that it was as if they were talking about a different guy. But all witnesses had agreed on one thing. This man was furious. Thankfully, he only took it out on thieves, rapists and gang members. Was anger though his only reason? She stared at him trying to discern the man behind the mask. 

Roy got up, looking quite pleased with himself. “I did a good job. Your vigilante is gonna live,” he announced.

“He’s not my vigilante, Scarecrow. Go wash up. I’ll clean your patient and take care of him.”

Roy climbed the stairs. “If he wakes up, call me. I need to speak to Thea.”

Felicity sighed at his overprotective tendencies. She took the wet cloth and approached the couch. The Hood, as they called him, had a commanding presence for a knocked out man.

She kneeled on the floor and started cleaning him softly. Considering this man’s life choices could give a girl a headache. Was he completely mad? Did he suffer from some type of mental illness? What kind of sane person roamed the streets at night saving strangers? Life was not a comic book. The Glades were scary and dangerous and despite her earlier bravado, she knew that she had been really lucky tonight.

Her hand moved almost without thought towards his face. She couldn’t see much except for a strong jaw covered in stubble, a pair of juicy lips and a cute mole that didn’t seem to belong on such a masculine face. The mystery was killing her. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if she took a peek? She had saved his life for Google’s sake.

Her hand reached the hood.

She touched the soft green fabric - so different from the rest of his suit - and was about to push it back when his hand grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Felicity froze like a little girl with the hand in the cookie jar.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Ever since your friend tortured me with the needle.”

Felicity felt outraged on behalf of Roy. “You could try to be a little more grateful. He saved your life.”

“You saved my life,” he rasped, “he was bitching and moaning every step of the way.”

She chuckled despite herself.

“Where am I?”

“My place. I live near the strip club.”

His hand clenched on her wrist. “It’s not a good neighborhood for you.”

She dropped the cloth in a small basin. “That’s the best I can do.”

“Doesn’t QC pay you better than that?”

Felicity’s heart raced. “How do you know where I work?”

He pointed towards her chest. “Your IT badge. I can’t see the name but I know the company logo.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m just an IT expert. Mostly, I clean computers infested with porn and fix executives’ emails accounts. I wanted the Applied Sciences position that opened up last summer but I lacked one major qualification so I didn’t get it.”

“What did you lack?”

“A dick and balls.”

At her dry retort, he started making a really weird sound. It was almost like wheezing. To her surprise, she realized that she had made the vigilante laugh.

“That doesn’t sound good,” she told him.

“It’s your fault. You’re not supposed to laugh with cracked ribs.”

Felicity winced. He was still holding her hand but she didn’t try to take it back.

“Were you really slashed with a sword?”

“And where would I find a sword in the middle of the Glades?”

“I don’t know Mr. Arrow. Up until last summer you couldn’t find a bow in Starling unless you belonged to an archery club.”

“Touche.”

His voice was familiar. Actually, she couldn’t recognize it because he made sure to speak in a low whisper. But there was something about the way he spoke the words themselves that sounded familiar to her. She tried to see under the hood but it was impossible. The only discernible thing was his lush mouth and that sinful mole.

“I was shot by a lady with a crossbow.”

His words brought her back from daydreaming about his mouth.

“You’re joking!”

“Do I look like a man who jokes?”

“You look like a man who likes to spend his nights dressing in leather and tying people up,” she retorted.

He laughed. Again. Felicity wanted to pump a fist in victory. She got the feeling that he wasn’t a man who laughed often.

“Where is your friend?”

“He went upstairs to clean up and call his girlfriend. He left her rather abruptly to come and save your ungrateful butt.”

His gloved hand was still holding hers, only now he was caressing her absentmindedly.

“My butt is very grateful. Still I would like to leave before he returns. Can you help me dress?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Roy was raised in the Glades. He’s not going to rat you out. You can stay here until morning.”

He appeared thoughtful for a few moments. “Very well. But it would be best not to tell him I’m awake when he comes back.” 

He released her hand, promptly closed his eyes and appeared unconscious for all intents and purposes. Felicity was about to check his pulse when she realized the reason for subterfuge. Roy was coming down the stairs.

“Is he awake, Blondie?”

“Nope. You can go back to Thea. I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon.”

“No way. I’m not leaving you alone with this lunatic.”

Her vigilante had tensed since the moment Roy approached but now he managed to radiate anger even as still as he was. Felicity put a hand on his uninjured leg.

“I don’t believe he’s crazy, Roy.”

“Then?”

“He’s a man of strong convictions. I imagine there must be something powerful behind his decision to go out at night and hunt criminals.”

Roy stared at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Don’t worry, Scarecrow. I do not approve of his methods. I only said I understand him a little.”

“You’re scaring me, Blondie. I think you better go and lie down. It’s after 10 and you have to work tomorrow.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving him. I’ll put on my pyjamas and lie on the chair. I spend most of my nights on that thing anyway.”

Roy was about to argue when his cell phone rang. He picked up. Pacing back and forth, he whispered furiously for awhile. Apparently, the news was bad.

“Thea got herself into trouble. What is it with the women in my life tonight? Is it a full moon or something?”

“Is she ok?”

“Yeah. She had a car accident going home. I told her not to drive her brother’s Porsche but she never listens.”

Felicity looked frantically for her phone. “Is she hurt? I need to call her now!”

“Don’t call her. She’s just scared because when Moira hears about it, she’s gonna be grounded for a year. She’s not hurt but the car is busted.”

“Can you wait until I change? Then you can leave.”

Roy waited patiently while she washed herself in the sink and changed into clean pyjamas. This night was by far the weirdest in her life and it was not over yet. She hurried downstairs fearing that Roy would discover her vigilante was awake. The panic she felt at the thought of betraying his trust should have scared her. Instead it made her feel alive for the first time in years.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok, Blondie?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Go get your girl, Scarecrow. Keep me updated.”

He left with a final order, “Keep your phone with you at all times”.

She resisted rolling her eyes again. Going closer to the actual superhero in her living room, she fake-whispered, “He left. You can quit the acting now.”

He opened his eyes and since the hood was now pushed back she finally got the chance to see his eyes. His gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. Life was so unfair sometimes.

“Is Thea Queen ok?”

His question was surprising. According to the media, the vigilante was not a fan of the city’s one percent.

“She had an accident but she’s not injured. Her brother’s car is totaled though.”

He looked like he was about to comment on that before he reconsidered.

“I thought you didn’t like Starling’s rich and famous?”

“Innocent teenage girls aren’t my enemy.” His voice was still low but his tone was hard.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity said. She felt horrible and was about to apologize further when he stopped her.

“It’s fine.”

She looked around, feeling lost. “Can I get you anything?”

“Since I’m about to spend the night, can I have blanket?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re lying half-naked on my couch and I didn’t even think you might be cold.”

“I spent a lot of time in Russia. Trust me, I’m not cold.”

Startled by the insight into his personal history, she threw him one of her favorite purple blankets and curled up in her chair. 

“Really? I’ve never been abroad. What is Russia like?”

He spread the blanket over himself carefully. His movements were good but if Felicity had to guess, she would say that the ribs were giving him trouble. Not that he would ever admit it. Stupid male pride.

“It’s an unwelcoming place. Hard and violent. At least it was for me. I wasn’t there for the sights.”

“What were you there for?”

“Training.” He paused and then whispered reluctantly, “with the Bratva”.

Felicity’s mind raced. “The Russian mob?” she squeaked.

“Yeah.” But he didn’t volunteer any other information and she didn’t want to pressure him. 

“Do you believe in God?” she asked out of the blue.

“I suppose. Why?”

“Bethany Snow says that you’re playing god. Judge, jury and executioner.”

“Bethany Snow,” he spat the name, “doesn’t understand the fact that the world is a complicated place. There are people who deal only in extremes. It’s naive to think that anything other than extreme measures is going to stop them.”

“Your world must be really different than mine.”

“I live in that world so that people like you don’t have to,” he countered.

Felicity closed her eyes. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and she was starting to feel the effects of the eventful day. She wasn’t going to sleep of course. Just rest for a minute or two.

“I feel safer with you here.”

“In your house?” He sounded really surprised by the admission.

“In my city,” she mumbled, eyes shut.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you, Felicity.”

 She smiled at his promise and nodded off.

The dawn light was peeking through the window when she opened her eyes next. Her phone was ringing but it wasn’t the alarm clock. She didn’t awake gradually, hitting the snooze button like any other day. Instead she rolled off the chair and her gaze flew to the couch. 

Nothing. 

The blanket was folded and placed away with care. There was no sign of her unexpected guest. Except for the blood that still covered the couch. He hadn’t been able to erase that at least. 

Felicity rubbed her tired eyes and tried to make sense of the events of last night. When she couldn’t, she headed towards the kitchen to make a pot of really strong black coffee. She fired a quick message to Roy promising that she was fine and vigilantless when it suddenly hit her.

Roy had never uttered her real name and she certainly hadn’t introduced herself.

However, he had called her Felicity. 

The Hood knew who she was.