#i’m gonna do something dastardly

[dipperscavern]

a CRIME that we didn’t get more of this look. a CRIME I TELL YOU

A CRIME YA HEAR!!! ugh the chest tease…. i want to lick him

we needed more of this look too. it’s always on the brain….. the armor stays on

[skzdarlings]

the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

-

The camper van was the best idea you ever had.  It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight. 

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry.   It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed.  You love it more than anything in this world. 

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work.  Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?”  Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain. 

“Yes,” Changbin says.  He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt.  He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job. 

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy.  Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves.  Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations.   Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.  

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van.  The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced.  Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion.  It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one. 

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge.  So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress. 

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”  

“Yah! Rude woman!  You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point.  “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.” 

“I’m not a nerd!”  You definitely are.  You stare at the cocktail dress morosely.  “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things!  That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says. 

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say. 

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning. 

“How charming?” he teases, cocky.  “Describe it to me.” 

“Shut up.”  You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered.  “I can’t go in there.  People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room.  We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.” 

“That won’t happen,” Minho says.   His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening.  “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”  

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face.  His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.  

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho.  It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala.  To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning.  The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face.  He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin.  There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face.  He is practically glowing. 

He knows he looks good.  His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions.  You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh. 

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you. 

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross.  You hit him with the cocktail dress again. 

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once.  “At least no one will be looking at me.” 

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter. 

You like dressing up so this part is no problem.  The problem with parties is other people.  You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.   

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game.  It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once.  You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that.  Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat. 

You open the curtain, scowling.  You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you.  But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho.  Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest.  His expression gets very serious when he looks at you.  He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further. 

“Turn around,” he says.  

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else. 

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching.  Minho tips his head like he is studying something. 

“Thank you,” Minho says. 

You face them again, hot in the face.  You cross your arms angrily. 

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow.  “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious.  “It’s a good one.  You should be proud.” 

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk.  He catches it smoothly. 

“Can we just go already?”  You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van. 

It is very strange being on this side of the operation.  You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones.  It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat. 

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI.  You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around.  It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel.  You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there.  You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.” 

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.  

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman.  You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can.  Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks.  First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring.  Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system. 

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards.  It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night.  “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.  

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice.  You think it is directed at both you and Changbin.  He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look.  “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face.  It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws.  They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine. 

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says.  He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips.  “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.”  You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine.  He rests his hand on your nape.  “Look sick,” he says.  “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.” 

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party.  Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.  

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease.  You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub.  Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length.  It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling.  There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play.  You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing.  It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors.  You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers.  You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code. 

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply. 

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says.  “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

 “What!”  You start to panic immediately.  “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!”  Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders.  He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help. 

“We’re good,” Minho says.  “It’s just a waiter, not security.” 

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say. 

“By a waiter?”  Minho asks.  He gives your shoulders another squeeze.  “Is he going to beat us with a baguette?  Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves.  Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms.  You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck. 

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says. 

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head. 

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin.  He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand. 

“What will work?” you ask. 

“Distraction,” Minho says.  You just look at him with confusion. 

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver.  Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart.  You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness.  You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently.  His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder. 

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you.  Just do what I say, okay?” 

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?”  Changbin asks. 

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho. 

It’s the truth.  You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through.  Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there.  They have never let you down.  You trust them with anything and everything. 

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.  You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different.  He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead.  Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side.  He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips. 

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle.  “You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation.   It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips. 

“Waiter is thirty seconds away.  You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says.  “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again.  This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open. 

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says.  “Let your shoulders drop.  Minho has you, it’s okay.” 

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were.  You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax.  Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply. 

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay?  Put your hands on his shoulders.  Higher, baby, go around his neck.  Just like that.  Let him lead you.” 

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies. 

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?”  Changbin says.  “Minho.”  

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do.  Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his.  It arches your back.  Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair. 

“God,” Changbin says.  The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you.  It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath.  “You both look hot.  Fuck.” 

Changbin takes a steadying breath.  You and Minho look at each other.  You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning.  It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth. 

“Do it back,” Changbin says.  “You want him to fuck you, baby.  Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter.  Isn’t it?  You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching.  In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter.  You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight.  His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed.  He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours.  He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head. 

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says.  “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.” 

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure.  Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him.  He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you.  Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction.  Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you. 

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real.  When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you.  Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you.  It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering. 

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips. 

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says.  “Kiss him like you mean it.  Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat.  You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want.  Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him.  “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same.   You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night.  Need it so bad.  Please.  Want you inside me.  Want my mouth on you.  Come in me.  Come on me.  Take me, please.  I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am?  Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.” 

Then someone is clearing their throat.  Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective. 

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says.  “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.” 

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment.  You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you. 

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over.  He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry.   He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder. 

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess.  It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job.  Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open. 

Minho joins you a minute later.  Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you.  Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside.  You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall.  He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you.  You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.   

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver.  You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy. 

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle.  “Good work, team,” he says. 

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being.  It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.  

You get inside the storeroom.  You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop.  You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work. 

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says. 

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye.  He smiles at you.  “I agree,” he says. 

Your heart starts skipping beats again.  You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze. 

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little.  You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it. 

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work.  You manage to disarm most of the storeroom.  The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all.  A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments. 

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam. 

“Got it?”  Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit.  “Always,” he says, smirking. 

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it.  His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you.   Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid. 

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one.   He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move.  “Gotta agree.” 

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease.  He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel.  It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him. 

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot.  Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume. 

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile. 

You pack your fold out bags with your selections.  One key to success is never being overly greedy.  You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.    

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul.  Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket.  He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place.   When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling.  You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit.  There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you.  Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.  

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet.  You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire.   You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing.  He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.   

You smile at him.  A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair.  The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder.  You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close. 

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences.  You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction. 

“Hey!” one shouts.  “What are you doing out here?” 

You and Minho look over, then at each other.  There is no time for conversation.  You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders. 

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again.  You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk. 

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view.  The door slides open and Changbin jumps out.  You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.  

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding.  “I agree,” he says. 

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her.  Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul. 

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair.  You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges.  You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room.  By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days.  You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates. 

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax.  Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow. 

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror.  Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself.   You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home.  You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs.  It is suggestive but arguably casual.  You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right?  Sure.  Sure.  Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said.  Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help.  Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade. 

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination.  You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room.  You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up.  They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy.  They look very casual and very surprised.  Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn.  Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again.  “I am… I am… dressed.  For bed.  My bed.  For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now.  I am going to that bed, now, like this.  You can… join me.  If you want.  If you don’t want, then, okay.  Hello.  And.  Goodbye.  Bye.” 

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed. 

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet.  You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash.  They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom.  You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other. 

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi,” Changbin replies. 

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer.  You cannot think of what to say or do next.  You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous.  Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again. 

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low. 

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest.  “Thank you.” 

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all.  You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them. 

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm.  Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher.  You continue to stare at them. 

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you.  He holds out his hand. 

“Breathe, baby,” he says.  “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand.  He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier.  He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you. 

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me.  You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho.  His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye.  You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding. 

“Always,” you say. 

“Good,” Changbin says. 

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside.  You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you.  He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him.  Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear. 

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours.  “Listen to my voice, okay?” 

You nod, light-headed but eager. 

“Good,” Changbin says.  “Come sit in my lap.  Over here.” 

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around.  You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms.  He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs.   You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure.  Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast. 

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you. 

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?”  Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.  

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly.  He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says.  He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer.   Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips.  “Touch him baby,” Changbin says.  “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see.  You can feel Changbin too, hard under you.  Their sweatpants do little to disguise it. 

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats.  Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch.  It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down.   This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers.  Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth. 

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too.  The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms.  Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed.  He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand.  You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs.  Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room.  He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you.   You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you. 

Then they do.  Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear.  You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged. 

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you.  Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look.  Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering.  He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you.  Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.  

The music is still playing in the next room.   The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs. 

“I love you guys,” you say.  It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care.   You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys.   You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep. 

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side. 

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says.  “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely. 

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger.  You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord. 

“I agree,” Minho says.  He kisses your temple.  “I know how criminals work,” he adds.  “You’re not getting stolen away from us.” 

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh.  You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always. 

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for 🦕; the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Mmm, well, if it’d keep you distracted from your dastardly supervillain jailbreak plans . . .” Kon teases with another smirk, walking his fingers up Bernard’s chest as he squeezes his ass with his TTK. “You know, that’s really just part of the job description. Just being bait in a bad-guy trap and doing traditional superheroic self-sacrifice and all. I don’t really dress all that scantily, though, am I gonna need a costume upgrade for this one?” 

“Don’t worry, man, I’ll pack you something,” Bernard says with another grin, stroking his hand down the side of his neck. Kon’s breath doesn’t quite catch, but he definitely has to actively stop it from happening. “Nice gold lamé loincloth, maybe? Matching collar I can put my future supervillain emblem on? Or maybe just an ‘R’, considering, since you’re gonna be bird-bait and all. Bet I could do it in pink K for him. Match the setting in that nice pretty plug I promised you.” 

Kon swallows under that hand, and Bernard grins again. 

“Unless you wanna stick with your usual straps and black leather look, anyway. Keep the brand strong and all,” he adds easily. “Because I understand the importance of branding, professionally-speaking. I’m sure I could figure out something along those lines. Leather is also very traditionally queer.” 

Bernard traces his fingers down Kon’s collarbone and chest like he’s tracing straps that aren’t there, and Kon leans down heavier into the contact without really thinking about it. He’s not sure if Bernard’s just, like, talking about the belts and straps he usually wears and his jacket, just without his suit under it all, or if he means, like . . . something a little more customized, or something. Like . . . something he means he’d dress him up in, or . . . 

Like, it’s just a jokey made-up fantasy scenario, obviously, and not even anything they’re gonna actually, like, scene, so it doesn’t really matter, but . . . just, he’s kinda wondering what Bernard’s picturing when he says it. What he’d be thinking if he ever used it as a real fantasy and jerked off to it, just . . . whenever. 

Just–after this, Kon means. Once he’s handed over the pink K to Clark to lock up somewhere in the Fortress, and he’s not . . . not allowed to do . . .

A camera flash goes off, and Kon reflexively startles, just for a second.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hold My Tongue In Your Teeth (Blue Lock) **Tickletober2024**

Week 4 of Tickletober Let's GOO! Y'all know I had to bring back my comfort ship! :D Some Lee!Chigiri for the spooky season! :D

CW: Light swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13 @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @riisada @ticklish-n-stuff

“You better shut that pretty mouth of yours before I do.” Kunigami growled as he looked back, something excitedly dangerous in his smile.

“Do it then, hero!” Chigiri shot back, trying not to laugh. “Shut me up!”

In retrospect, Chigiri really should have known where this was going. Alas, he was feeling needy and silly and just really wanted to make out with his boyfriend. Was that so wrong?

Kunigami was smiling at him with such devious intent it made him question whether it was or not.

“Wait, wait wait wahhait, I’ll shut up! I’ll shuhuhut up!” Chigiri stepped back to run, but Kunigami was quick- gathering him up in his arms. “Hero, hohohold on! Hohohold on, I’m noohohot ready!”

“Oh?” Kunigami grinned, adjusting his grip on the smaller boy so his feet were hanging off the ground, arms both his support and his cell bars. “Are you ready now?”

“Ahehehe! Hehehahahaha! Wahhait, wahahhait, wahahait..ohohokay, ohohohkay.” Shaking his hair back, Chigiri took a few more giggly breaths before nodding. He closed his eyes as Kunigami leaned in and-

“Pffft!”

“AH YOU FUHUHUCKER!” Chigiri squealed when Kunigami made contact with not his lips, but rather his neck! Another loud raspberry followed, making him squirm and cackle, torn between leaning away or towards the other. “Kuhuhuhunigahhahahami!”

“What? You told me to shut you up?” He growled in his neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin as he continued planting little kisses and bites- further worsening Chigiri’s giggle fits. “You didn’t tell me how, though.”

“Aheahahhahaha! Gehahahhaa, yohoohhou’re tehehheherrible! Gehahahah, you knehehehw what I meahhaha-AHHhehahahahhahan’t!” Those dastardly lips found a rather terrible spot along the nape, making growling noises that somehow made the feeling worse. “Whahahhat are you, wooohohohohvolrehehehehene?”

“I can be. Are you into hairy men?” Kunigami snorted as he pulled back, blowing another raspberry kiss into Chigiri’s smiling cheek. “I might not have much now, but where I lack in fur, I make up for in claws!”

“What-AH!” The redhead all but flailed when the hands supporting him suddenly started tickling, tapping and skittering against his ribs and back. “Nohohoho fahahhair, nohohohohoho fahhahahair, nohohoho fahhahair you bihihihig doohohohrk! Ahehahahaha, put me dohohohown!”

“Huh? What was that? Did you call me something?” Kunigami went back to kissing his neck and ears, slowly lowering them down into the grassy practice field as he carried on seeking tickle spots. “I believe what you meant to say is “Oh my big strong hero- won’t you save me from my own created misfortune? I am in dire need of your aide!”

“Fuhuuhhuhuuck ohohohohoff! Gehahahaha, I cahahhan shahahhave mysehehehlf-EHEHEH!” Chigiri tried to fight back, but Kunigami was swift to get him under the arms, making him shoot his elbows back with a squeal. “EHhahahahhahaa, coohohohohme ohohohohohn! Yohoohohohu’re cheehehehhahahhating!”

“Nah, you’re just too adorable.” Kunigami gave him another kiss to the cheek, unfazed at the hands slapping and pinching his arms. “Are you gonna behave now?”

“Fihihihine, fihihihine, just stahhahhap tiihihihckling me!” Chigiri pleaded, gasping for air when those dastardly hands finally came to a halt. “Oohohoh my gohohod. Yoohohu jerk!”

“You don’t mean that.” Kunigami gave him his best puppy eyes, laughing when Chigiri flicked him in the nose.

“I don’t. I love you, even when you’re being an absolute goofball.” Chigiri pouted, blushing more when Kunigami brushed his hair back to kiss his forehead. “I didn’t even get what I wanted!”

“Didn’t you?” Kunigami asked, laughing more at the lower lip sticking out further. “Okay- I’ll shut you up for real this time.”

“Hm.” Chigiri turned his head away with a petty huff, nearly taking Kunigami out as he wheezed. He couldn’t keep his grumpy frown any longer as the ginger guided his face back to him, capturing his lips with the sweetest kiss. “Was that so hard?”

“Shut up. I’m silencing you.” Kunigami chided gently, kissing away the giggles bubbling over Chigiri’s lips.

Thanks for reading!

[vampyrcigs]

ABOUT ME

Mor, my name is Mor.

This blog is for those who crave that of a gothic romance. That of a vampire’s bite, a vampire’s kiss. For only a vampire’s kiss will last forever.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

🩸‧₊˚⊹ a truly odd obsession with ethereal vampires…

🪦‧₊˚⊹ he / him , Victorian goth , vampire lover , African American , and professional unprofessional writer . ♡

🦇‧₊˚⊹ I am married to many different vampires, do not question me.

“They’re gonna execute the mother..to elevate the man.”

🕯️‧₊˚⊹ Made this blog out of boredom and wanting to get back into writing. I write on tumblr and Wattpad currently. I’m planning to write AO3 in the future. Wattpad will be linked once I start working on it. Requests are open.

🩸‧₊˚⊹ I may be a bit late on your asks, but they will be done. I go from earliest ask to latest so first come, first serve. If I’m uncomfortable with an ask, it will not be written. ♡

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ Politely correct me if I get something wrong in my writing (grammar mistakes, character info mistakes, etc.). I want my work to be as accurate as possible for you all. Anons are adored. ♡

���‧₊˚⊹ My works are, recommended, 18+. I will not go out of my way to check your ages, you are responsible for your media consumption. SFW content is not age restricted.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Follow my dearest…@cozylashes , the color change is dastardly.

materialist…in progress || request status…open || introduction

[ato-catto]

Hi! I’m not sure if you take requests but I enjoyed reading your recent Trunks post! Would you consider doing anything NSFW for Trunks? If not, could I just request anything about Trunks (not necessarily NSFW)? Thank you so much!

Sorry this took so long! Here you go!

Trunks yawned, stretched out on the bed in just grey sweatpants. His purple hair was unkempt and strewn across the pillow behind him, his eyes lidded and tired.

You walked in, swimsuit clad and dripping from the Capsule Corp pool.

You and Trunks had grown up together alongside Goten, but evidently, those two were almost entirely a different species from you. Built like Greek gods that could fly and do things you couldn't even imagine.

Trunks tired eyes locked on yours and his mouth quirked into a gentle smile.

"Heyyyy.." He sat upright and rubbed his eyes. His nose was a little blushed from the sun. "Been swimming?"

You nodded, suddenly very self conscious of your bare skin. Not like he hadnt seen it before- but in such a closed off room where he was also half naked.. it was enough to make your stomach lurch.

"Yeah. I was going to ask to use your shower? Gotens using the main one." You looked away because your eyes automatically drawing to his abs, which honestly was pretty rude.

But he didn't mind. He chuckled, and snaked a hand over his chiselled stomach. "Sure. I'm not gonna stop you."

Your eyes follow his hand, and you swallow, half imagining what it might feel like if that was your own hand...

Okay. So maybe you had had a crush on Trunks since you guys were pre teens, but now he had grown into a big, tall strong young man you couldn't help but feel a little different around him- especially when he was.. less clothed.

You try to edge past the bed towards the bathroom door, but he sits up and looks at you with blue, searching eyes.

"Somethings up with you lately. What is it?" He half demands, catching your wrist and looking up at you.

You immediately go red, all the way up to your ears. You yank your hand away, or atleast try to.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." You grumble.

He just looks at you with a look that was calling out your bullshit without words. "Uhuh. Sure."

He stood, coming to about a head above you, and half trapped you against the adjacent wall with his body. If you really wanted to, you could turn and leave.. but you just couldn't.

His arms came to rest on the wall either side of your head, his eyes still searching yours.

Dastardly little ass.. he was trying to provoke a reaction out of you. And he was getting it.

"You're lyingggg..." He said in a sing song voice.

Your cheeks only got hotter. "I'm NOT. Move Trunks, I'm trying to shower, not be interrogated."

"You could leave. I'm not even touching you." His voice is low and gravelly, and the vibrations from it make your abdomen tighten. "I just wanna know why you've been acting weird for the past few weeks. You're not different to Goten. It's just me. You avoid me, you look away whenever I try catch your eye, and you spend less time with me in general." He raised his eyebrows. "Either you really hate me or its the complete opposite."

He knew what he was getting at.

"Yes Trunks. I hate you. I hate my bestfriend." You sigh and roll your eyes- ignoring the hammering in your chest. He looked like eerily Vegeta from this angle- it was a little unnerving.

He smirked. He was NOT buying it. "You like me, don't you..?" He leant a little closer.

Your eyes went wide. Your secret was discovered AND he was so close you could feel his breath.

"What!? No! Don't be ridiculous!!"

He got closer. And closer, glancing down at your mouth with some sort intention behind his eyes.

"So if I just...." He pressed a sudden kiss against your lips, your eyes going wide and hands coming up in some sort of self defense.

He pulled away, smirking. "Do that.. You won't react, right?"

You couldn't speak. Your throat was closed and all you could muster was a squeak. He chuckled, closing his eyes and withdrawing slightly.

"Told you." He touched your cheek. "I'm always right."

You just stared at him in disbelief. Your lips tingled.

"I-"

He came back closer, and sealed the space between you again. You looked so hopeless standing there with those pink tinted cheeks... it only seemed right to give you more. He would never admit he liked the swell in his chest when he did it. He felt like he had a shot of Tequila.. he was buzzing.

He roped fingers through your hair and deepened the kiss, the both of you panting slightly when your mouths opened and parted, Trunks taking the opportunity to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and then into your mouth, making you whine softly in surprise.

18+ segment. Minors DNI.

Your nipples hardened, poking through the thin material of your swimsuit, and brushing against his chest as he pushed himself against you, pressing you harder into the wall. His breath was ragged, his hands coming up to your chest and pulling at your swimsuit. Once he found bare skin his breathing halted and he pulled back to look down at what he had revealed.

Your hands came to cover them but he quickly moved them away. "Do you wanna... Go further?" He murmered, palming your breasts.

Your core said yes. Infact it screamed yes. To be satiated by HIM sounded like absolute bliss. But... should you? Would this just be a one night stand to him? "Depends." You breathed, watching his hands as they toyed with you.

"On what.." His eyes flicked up to your face.

"What are we?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He seemed to think for a moment. "What do you want to be?"

"Together?" You suggest sheepishly. He grinned softly and dipped back to your mouth. His kiss was a silent confirmation.

He picked you up under your thighs and turned, lowering you down to the bed, not once parting from your lips. His toned body caged you against the cushioned surface, the room filled with pants and small groans bubbling up from both of you.

Trunks hand slipped down between your legs, making you tense and hum. He moved his lips to your neck and began working your womanhood through your swimsuit, muttering things against the skin of your neck, making you shiver.

"I've wanted to do this for so long.." His voice was breathy and husky.

You couldn't find words, heat pooling in your lower abdomen as he gently bit into the base of your neck, sucking on the supple flesh. Without even directly touching your womanhood, he was getting you closer and closer to unravelling. "T-trunks!" You whined, leaning into him to muffle your cruel as you crumbled, undoing under his touch. He rubbed hard through the last moments, his gaze capturing yours, his mouth parted as he watched your face go through the stages of orgasmic bliss.

"That's it.." He murmered, putting his forehead against yours, his purple hair falling around your face  as your eyes rolled back into your skull and you finally crescendoed. "Come for me."

[cookie-crumblr]

✨My Dastardly Villain~✨

F!Hero Reader x M!Villain Yan OC

Part 2~

His Info: 💰✨

Part 1

<<<Previous Part _ Next Part>>>

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: F!Reader, reader referred to as she/her, general violence, reader’s alias is Solar (powers include teleportation, and fire control), explicit language, reader wears makeup (not a specified amount :3 jus a lil) reader voms(not descriptively), no smut in this part ! see part 1 for some in the meantime ;3 <3 links above!

just a silly little part! enjoy <3

music rec: Hush by the marías <3

In front of the cartoonishly big iron vault, Sobek snaps his fingers, and in pops a levitating sphere of swiftly swirling water, inside swims a massive crocodile.

“Attack!!” Sobek shouts at the thing, pointing with a grand flourish of his entire arm your way.

As the alarm bells of the bank continue to blare, everything in motion stops to look at the villain as he continues to point dramatically towards you��

But nothing is happening.

The crocodile turns to him and it looks like they’re whispering for a second.

The air is stagnant with confusion when Sobek loudly hisses to the crocodile, “What do you mean, Habla Española?? do i speak spanish!? You don’t… speak english. well that’s fucking great. Ahrrrg!” He grabs his head in frustration, “Does anybody here speak spanish!?” He shouts at the crowd of now less panicked bank goers.

“I do!” A hostage woman calls out, raising her hand.

They aren’t even scared anymore. He face palms at his own loss.

“You know what fine. Book me. Whatever” He clicks his tongue, before snapping his fingers and sending the croc back to, presumably, Cuba. He then holds out his wrists for you as if you were gonna cuff him.

This is how most of his plots turn out. They end without even needing to fight.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your brows tightly knit as you try to massage them apart through your mask.

As you’re about to take him out of the bank and to your rental car, you’re seriously dreading seeing your superiors...

*POP*

“SHIT!” You curse in front of the very people you were just not wanting to see all of the hero’s in the classes above you, all talking around a ginormous round glass table without you. you’re the lowest class, and they always give you the worst jobs. They giggle at you lovingly, but it has you fuming when just as quickly as you ported in-

*POP*

You spin around in your new-new setting, realizing you’re back with Sobek. He thankfully didn’t move an inch while you were gone, you let out a relieved sigh and a shaky little laugh.

“H-hey there… S-Solar, you, um…Don’t” He swallows over a hard lump “You don’t… Have trouble um teleporting, do you?” He clears his throat and shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

“N-no! hah! w-Whywouldyouthinkthat? i just—h-had something to take care of. Now… Get in the car’” You open the door for him. There’s no way a villain can find out about your biggest, and stupidest weakness! and it just happened right in front of one!!! and he’s the worst one for it to happen in front of!!! He’d be so smug about it if he found out!

“Riiiiiiight something to take care of. right before you even finish kidnapping a villain” he speaks to himself, as you’re no longer paying attention, you’re in the driver’s seat takin this troublemaker straight to HQ, lost in thought.

Traffic is balls.

Traffic is hell.

Traffic can suck stinky old nut.

Of course you had to DRIVE him to HQ even though it’s like four blocks away… You smack your own forehead.

He sits in his own silent contemplation before hearing the *Slap!* of your hand landing, and snaps back into his own body.

“Soooo Solar…. You uh… Got any plans… Tonight?” He asks while uncharacteristically jittery, it’s weirding you out. Why is he so nervous around you all of a sudden? he’s usually vibrant and ridiculous with how many flourishes and spins he puts on everything he does.

“Why? are you askin’ me out?” You scoff.

“Pfft, No! I’m making small talk. Heard of it?” He puts his elbow on the window and head in his hand, ready to zone back out.

“For your information, I have a hot date tonight.” You proudly shift your head upwards, while keeping your eyes on the road.

He audibly swallows again…

“Okay, can you like, stop that? you’re seriously freakin me out dude.” You take your eyes off the road and hear a loud *HOOOONK*

Of course traffic clears up when you aren’t paying attention.

“Stop what?? I’m— I’m totally normal right now. Haha, we’re totally normal… Right now. Right??”

“What the fuck is your problem??? did you summon a croc into your panties???”

“I don’t have a problem, you have a problem! i’m not the one with problems. And even if i did, i wouldn’t want you trying to “hero treatment me” or whatever.”

““Hero treatment you”” You quote him and bust out laughing. “whatever. we’re here now anyway. Thank gods i don’t have to deal with whatever’s got your panties in a bunch any longer.”

Once Inside~

“What!?” You shout at the hero commander smacking your hands against the desk.

“Yeah wait! what!?” Sobek echos from behind you.

The walls of the Hero commander’s office are either floor to ceiling windows, or covered floor to ceiling in awards and degrees from myriads of sources. He sits behind a thick dark oak table.

“He’s a way higher class than that!! I mean,,, He can… He can summon crocodiles! HUGE crocodiles!!”

“Yeah! im a way higher class than that!!”

You elbow him in the ribs, “Shut up! You’re arguing for more punishment right now, you know? You’re getting off easy!”

“No, i’m arguing for my pride! I’m definitely higher than a D class! What losers are D class supers!?”

“Hey! I’m a D class super!!”

“What!?” his neck lurches forward in disbelief, “She’s way higher than D class!” He points at you stepping another foot toward your Hero commander.

“Will you two just Shut Up. Gods.” The old man pinches the bridge of his nose, and sets his paper work aside. “You’re both D Class. and you’re both on cleanup duty. Now GO.”

You’re both picked up as if by an invisible hand by the scruffs of your super suits and dropped onto your asses outside the office as the door slams shut behind you.

“Ow! Ass!” He hisses and rubs his bum.

“Hey that’s the hero commander you’re calling an ass!” You knock him upside the head.

“Ow! Ass!” He puts more emphasis on the words reannunciating what he had said.

You groan and rub your palms down your cheeks stretching down your eyelids in the process. “Why do you always have to get us put on cleanup duty!?”

“It’s not that bad! C’mon! We gotta do that fast so we can figure out how to get outta D class!” He jumps up and pulls you with him.

“Woah!” You run after your arm that’s being dragged down the corridors and toward the windows.

“Sobek… The elevator is that wa-AAAAAYYYYYY!!!” You’re suddenly free falling in a flying sphere of water, you try and swim up but it’s spinning, and your getting dizzy. “SOBEK!!!!” The word burbles out of you into the ferocious liquid. all you see is bubbles and blobs of colours.

He must’ve busted through one of the top floor windows and threw you in a bubble while he surfed down!

Soon enough you’re on the cement soaking wet with shards of glass littering the ground around you both.

He stands dramatically with his hands on his hips like he did a job well done. Meanwhile, you’re hunched over and drenched, coughing up sea foam angrily staring daggers into his back.

OOOOOOO, he’s so lucky you have a mask on! If your makeup was smeared he’d be DEAD!

When he turns and sees you struggling you hear the smallest little hint of laugher, and air being caught between puffed out cheeks. HE THINKS THIS IS FUNNY!?

“OH HO HO, NO! You shut it right now Mr.!!!” You stomp, water flying off of you in thick drops.

You light yourself on fire and dry yourself flawlessly. thankfully your hair is immune and so is your super suit.

“What!? If you coulda done that the whole time, why’s it matter if i think it’s funny that you looked like a wet cat!” He shouts back.

“Because!!! It’s embarrassing!!!” You cross your arms and look up toward the blue sky.

There’s birds flying by. Too bad you can’t just fly. you got the ability to-

*POP*

“WH-WHAAAA—!!!” the blue sky surrounds you now, and you feel the moisture of clouds against your suit. for a second you feel weightless… And then the droplets suspended in the air whip past you as you begin to free fall.

You teleported up to the birds and are now racing back down to Earth at the speed of— well a human falling back to Earth!! “SHIIIIIIIIII-”

Back on the ground, Sobek is waiting for you to teleport back instantly like normal when he hears your faint screaming coming from above…

“OH SHIT!!!” He panics, he can’t save you! if he tries to catch you with water you’ll just die falling at that speed! He thinks about summoning a whale, maybe it could catch you in its mouth… but whales usually speak all sorts of different languages…. Oh shit! You’re getting way too close to the building height now! what does he do!??!!

*POP*

You appear next to Sobak again, as you were just thinking how glad you were you at least had a good fuck before you died. You kinda wished you could see him again, and then, just like that, both of your two feet are on solid ground again…

You collapse.

Sobek rushes to your body and carries you back to the rental car.

He checks to make sure your breathing by putting his ear onto your chest when “What are you doing!?” You shove him off of you and hug yourself. He backs off quickly respecting your space.

“That was scary. Hah!” You bark.

“You alright, Solar?”

You throw up onto the ground. and throw him a thumbs up while your head is still down.

That shouldn’t turn him on.

You’re literally sick right now, but that thumbs up has his face heating up as he remembers last night…

And you’re gonna be on -hot- date with him again tonight…

He’s gotta stop thinking about you while in his supersuit.

[rgbyshipper101]

It’s DP Side Hoes Week!

And I may have forgotten and written this in one day but-!

Here is my entry for Super Danny!

It’s also heroic amusement so enjoy!

Super Danny

Off Duty/Domestic

“Sizzling spirits!”

Super looked on in disgust at the deplorable condition of Fun’s bedroom. Papers were strewn all over the desk. Dirty laundry piled onto the bed. Food wrappers littered the floor instead of in the wastebasket. It was right there! How could he miss it?

Unbelievable. How could his former human half live in such disarray?

Speaking of him, Fun waved at him from his chair, nose deep in his laptop. “Hey, dude!”

“Don’t you act all nonchalant with me, human! “This is unacceptable! How could you leave this room in such a disgusting condition?”

“Well,” Fun shrugged, “I finished my homework. Lancer was boring and he gave me detention for sleeping in class.” He smiled at Super. “Tuck gave me his notes, though. So, it worked out in the end.”

Super huffed. Honestly! How could he take his education so unseriously? “I’ve had enough of your lazy, lowlife lifestyle! We are resolving this today! Right now,” he pointed at the door, “You are cleaning your room.”

Fun put his hands up, placatingly. “Alright, alright, I figured I’d do the more important thing first.” He stood up and stretched. His shirt rode up a bit, exposing his stomach, and Super quickly looked away. “Just promise you won’t disappear immediately. I know you patrolled all morning.”

“But of course! How else am I to make sure this city is free of conniving criminals?”

“Did you catch any today?”

Super’s puffed up chest deflated a bit. “Well, no.”

“Ah,” Fun smiled, mischievously. “I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? They could be scheming something dastardly later and I have to take care of it.”

“Mhm,” Fun dismissively waved his hand. “You hold that thought, dude. I’ll be back.” He gathered his clothes and left, presumably to start cleaning.

Super sighed once the door closed. The fact that the ghosts haven’t been around today didn’t worry him. What worried him was that it was two days since he last saw one. Super didn’t understand. Were they all plotting something against him? Why would it take so long?” He crossed his arms, hugging himself. This is the calm before the storm. It must be.

Super was so absorbed in his thoughts he didn’t realize Fun came back until he heard the vacuum turn on. He jumped, startled, and whirled around, ectoplasm crackling in hand.

Fun blinked at him. “Whoa, hotshot, it’s just me.” He gave a toothy grin. “I’m not that threatening, am I?”

“Hardly!” Super turned his nose up, his power dissipating. “You should know better than to sneak up on ghostly ghouls.”

He snorted, “Okay, GG dude.”

“This isn’t a game!”

“Never said it was.”

“You-!” Super turned his head and tried to compose himself. He was shocked to see all the wrappers in the garbage and desk clean. “When did you finish cleaning?”

Fun pulled the plug and put the vacuum in the corner. “Since I came back. You okay GG?”

“Again with that?” Super mumbled.

“I walked in here, saw you pouting, and decided to start before you got more upset.” He snickered. “You jumped so far up at the noise I thought I was watching a Luney Toones cartoon.” He walked over to the TV and turned it on, flipping down on the bed in the process. He patted the space next to him. “Come here! You’re gonna miss it.”

Super had no idea what he was talking about but floated over regardless. Probably another silly show that he’s been watching. What were they called? Amine? Anima? Whatever. The one with the boy in space was pretty good, though…

Super yelped as he was pulled onto a warm body by a hand. Said hand wrapped itself around him, holding him close.

Super squirmed a bit, blushing. “Why must you be so, so-“

“Charming?”

“Absolutely annoying!”

Fun chuckled before using both hands to gently cradle Super’s head. Super didn’t realize what he was doing until he saw his cape maneuvered in front of him. He sucked in a breath, angered. “Hey!”

“Relax,” Fun spread his cape on their legs, containing their warmth. “It’s mine, too-“

Super clenched his fists and ducked his head. Right. One of Fun’s belongings.

“Just like how my room is your room,” He gave Super a side eye and smiled, “My bed, your bed. Your burden, my burden.”

Super blinked at the statement then shook his head. “The city is my responsibility.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help,” Fun snuggled closer, “or that you can’t ask for help.”

Super leaned back and grabbed his hand, slotting their fingers together.

“Which means my mess is also your mess-oof!”

“Some things are only your things,” Super said, pulling the pillow away.

“And time. You have your time to do what you want when you want. But would you like to spend your time with me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“The portal’s closed for construction, so…”

Super grabbed Fun as he laughed. “You knew why there were no ghosts?!”

“You wouldn’t have believed me!”

Super hated how he was right. “Fine! I can spend some of my invaluable time doing a mundane thing.”

“Watching Gravity is mundane?”

Super straightened up. “We’re watching Gravity?”

“Hell yeah, dude!”

“No swearing!”

Fun smiled at the cute expression on Super’s face, encircling his arms around his torso.

As the movie played, Fun felt Super’s stiff posture slowly melt into him, and he hugged his ghostly ghoul to his chest. By the time the movie ended, he heard snores coming from Super. Fun smiled gently and kissed Super’s temple.

Finally. He finally got Super to rest and even stay with him for the night. Super dude works too hard for no reward. He couldn’t believe his plan worked. Now he can finally relax.

Fun grinned. How’s that for being lazy?

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Bruh I remember you saying how there was a point in his life where Yves was possibly facing death row because of some insane human experiments and now I’m just imagining him in court looking cunt as f in that orange jumpsuit like: “12 counts of kidnapping” *flips hair over his shoulder* “6 counts of dealing in dead human remains” *crosses legs* “18 counts of Mayhem” *bats eyelashes* “20 counts of first degree murder” “3 counts of possessing, selling or usage of weapons of mass destruction” like he’s be so nonchalant because he knows that he’s gonna be free and won’t see another night of jail and that the courts are just doing this to satisfy the loved ones of the families that were affected.

Now I wonder like, I remember in an earlier ask it looked like Yves might’ve looked quite different when he was in his doctor era, not as femme and with shorter hair, would this coincide with his mad scientist era as well? Or would this be afterwards?

I also feel like the human experimentation stuff happened while he was trying to essentially patch himself up and used live donations to do that. I dunno y but I have a headcanon that all of that may of happened earlier into his medical career, like I can imagine him first starting, always wearing a surgical mask and gloves because his face and hands probably looked DASTARDLY, and over time, as he patches himself up reveals more and more of himself.

I dunno, just my idea, probably doesn’t match up with your own tl but I was thinking about it since I saw it and now I have the time to put it into words! Love your writing and I love Yves!!!!!!!!

Tw; Yves past and full of traumas n shit, body horror and stuff

Trust me, he wasn't serving cunt in court, there was a reason why he has any video, photo and even memorial evidence of it scrubbed.

The first time he got sentenced heavier than a few years in prison without parole, he was screaming and hissing and kicking as the guards took him away. Yves was bitter and full of hatred, his quest to become beautiful again was interrupted too early because of his immature carelessness. It hasn't even been half a decade since he received his license and he's already caught. Fellow inmates avoided him because there was just something not right about that man even though he was one of the scrawniest and visibly weakest in the institution.

He already knows how to make scalpels out of nothing, Yves's extensive knowledge of human biology means that he could very easily kill or debilitate anyone without a hitch. The gangs wouldn't want to mess with him, the weaker ones wouldn't want to get his attention, and not even the wardens wanted to go near him if they could help it. The vibes were just... Off. He wasn't a pretty sight for the eyes either, especially with his scars and deformities from years of abuse.

It was only years after he 'calmed' down enough to think properly in prison. Unfortunately though, during his turbulent years, he racked up a large number of mutilation and murder victims in his facility. He was the worst and deadliest inmate in there, at one point having a judge sentence him to death because he was just too much of a threat to be kept alive.

So he sobered up, pushed aside his anguish for his looks and dignity robbed away from him. Yves considerably mellowed himself down, opting to be more diplomatic and cunning to get what he wanted. He had to learn how to seduce the people that matter without the help of his youth and looks, he would play the meek, helpless deformed cutie in distress. It managed to win the hearts of some key personnel that aided him in escaping. Not only the prison, but the system too.

Through a lengthy, convoluted, and nerve-wracking plan paved by betrayal, drugs, sexual exploitation, torture, and evil intentions, Yves somehow got his death sentence reversed. And slowly, dissolved his other penalties too with the help of his contacts and smart thinking. He sacrificed a lot to get out and most importantly, acquire experiences.

He kept going until he finally escaped, entirely. Having the authorities off his back because they cannot convict him anymore. Using every legal loophole and doing shady things to paint him as innocent in the eyes of the law. Hell, they didn't even remember him, as if he induced permanent amnesia into those who brought him to justice in the first place. He had done the impossible and he had become a traitor to everyone he had used to attain his goals, dooming them to their horrible fates because they abused and brutalized him when he was at his lowest.

From there, he had attained his secret, unstoppable weapon: patience. Yves has learned a valuable lesson, that is if he keeps acting out and thinking that he's running out of time, he will fuck up and not go anywhere.

Now that he knew the ins and outs of the system (and the psychology of those involved), the next time he was caught and brought for another court hearing in handcuffs, he wasn't serving cunt either. He had to manipulate everyone into thinking that he was innocent and simply framed for something he didn't do. Yves is playing his own chess and winning at every round, he knows all the moves and what to do, and he calculates the risks and benefits, the probability of what might happen. Who he should endear himself to and who he should appear intimidating to.

When it comes to trouble, he is never serving cunt nor flop. He is always serving nothing. Because he knew that attention can be deadly, for every case he got himself into, one of his main priorities was to keep it hush-hush. The less people know, the less he has to eliminate, the better.

He wormed back into his medical career, laying low for a bit but ultimately scheming to get back to usual programming. Yves learned how to be much more careful, and sneaky. He learned how to keep their screams muffled and enhanced his forgery skills. The importance of having numerous scapegoats at his disposal is greatly emphasized so his quest wouldn't be interrupted too soon again. Those who truly knew the monster under that calm and collected facade either feared or respected him, or both. Everyone else didn't know who he even was or his relevance to anything, that's exactly what Yves wanted: obscurity. Fame did nothing but get him in trouble and tormented, so he sunk into the comforting depths of anonymity.

Only when he got the face, hands, and feet that he wanted, Yves fucked off from the medical field to do other things he wanted. But mostly it is to work on his mental fortitude to become the powerhouse he is right now. It doesn't mean he quit entirely, though. Present day, He would still run his morbid experiments from time to time on people who wronged him; there is definitely no shortage of them in the world. Yves does that to satisfy his curiosity or to research how to make your life better.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 7 - No going back

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Hi all. Bit of a shorter chapter as we build up to their Big Night. Warnings for beginnings of smut, talk of blood drinking and reader being a bit over eager with Bucky (but he's very willing).

You were a jittery mess the next day as you waited for sundown. The hangover didn’t help much, either. Part of you even wondered if you’d dreamt it all, and Bucky would come down those stairs as he did every night and everything would be as it was. Awkward and uncomfortable. But you remembered his hands on you too clearly, the feel of his tongue against your neck, the breathlessness from that kiss…all too real to have been a dream.

You distracted yourself with housework and a catch up video call with Wanda and Nat, filling them in on Peter’s dastardly deeds as they scoffed and shouted – outraged on your behalf. You were still annoyed at yourself for your moment of weakness, but Nat vowed to avenge you and it felt good to be talking about it and laughing, reminding yourself that it was only the important people in your life who mattered.

You did a couple of loads of laundry and took a long leisurely bath. You wanted to look nice for Bucky but didn’t want to look too dressed up as you normally wore casual shorts or loungewear around the house, so one of your sexy cocktail dresses would certainly raise an eyebrow from Steve. You settled on a tight leggings and tank top set you knew emphasised every curve of your body, popping on a bit of minimal make up for good measure.

You had ordered your favourite takeout as your capacity to cook was non-existent. You were sat at the kitchen table eating when they finally descended the stairs and came into the kitchen. You looked up and greeted them as naturally as you could, trying to ignore your heart as it hammered in your chest.

Steve was dressed up and ready to go in a crisp white shirt and navy tailored pants, while Bucky was more laidback in dark jeans and a fitted grey t-shirt. The two of you exchanged the briefest of heated glances before you turned away and asked Steve if he was looking forward to his night out.

“I am, yeah. Haven’t seen this crowd in a while so it’ll be good to catch up” he beamed.

“Fun!” you responded cheerily. “What’s a vampire gathering like? Do you have a human sacrifice? Drink the finest AB negative from martini glasses?”

Steve laughed heartily. “Not since the 70s. We normally just hang out and catch up, put on some music. But yes, they do offer refreshments so you’re off the hook tonight”

You smiled back. “Sounds like a blast. Say hi to Blade for me”.

You laughed together for a moment before Steve’s expression turned into something more serious.

"Are you two going to be okay together without me?” he asked, looking between you and Bucky. “I’m a little worried I’ll come home and one of you will be torn limb from limb – and I mean it, both of you have a fair shot of being capable of that”.

You both turned to look at Bucky who was standing at the kitchen counter, reading through some mail. He glanced back at you briefly before turning to Steve.

“We’ll be fine” he replied solemnly as his azure eyes locked with yours once more, giving nothing away. “Won’t we?”

You nodded. “Yep…I’m still kinda hungover so I’m probably gonna watch a movie and call it a night. We’ll just stay out of each other’s way”.

Bucky nodded back as Steve eyed you both. You could see he wasn’t wholly convinced, worried about what the two of you might get up to in his absence.

If only he knew.

Steve eventually got to his feet, satisfied that he could trust you both not to kill each other at least until he got home. Or as satisfied as he’d ever be, at least.

“Okay, good. Well I’ll get on my way, then. Just call me if World War III breaks out”.

He headed to the door as Bucky walked with him, they were chatting about some old buddy of theirs, Rumlow something? So you tuned it out. You picked up your empty plate and took it to the sink, throwing away the takeout containers and turning the faucet to rinse. You were suddenly nauseous as you knew it was only a matter of moments before you and Bucky were alone, mindlessly scrubbing the plate as you felt your nerves take over.

You finally heard Steve say goodbye as the front door closed, and then silence from Bucky in the hall. You swallowed, wondering if you should make the first move or wait until he said something. Or maybe he’d changed his mind and was just going to ignore the whole thing. You rubbed at the plate a little harder, even though it was already clean.

You didn’t have to wait much longer as you suddenly felt strong arms from behind loop across your waist. You yelped and dropped the plate in surprise, you hadn’t even heard him enter the kitchen. He pulled you tight against him as his lips found your neck, sucking softly on your skin as he worked from behind your ear and down to your collarbone. You closed your eyes and let yourself sag against him as you leaned into the kisses, your hands gripping his. You whimpered quietly as you allowed him to sweep you away. He stopped kissing and you could feel his grin against the back of your neck.

His hands sharply flipped you so that you were facing him and you were immediately lost in his eyes as he pulled you against him, gently moving a strand of hair from your face as he studied you. You were painfully aware of how easily he could manoeuvre you without even breaking a sweat. It shot a burst of electricity straight through you.

“We need to talk-” he started, his voice firm and authoritative, but you didn’t let him finish.

You flung your arms around his neck, desperately pulling his face towards yours. You felt like you’d collapse if you didn’t kiss him in the next few seconds. You pushed your mouth onto his and despite his insistence on talking he didn’t resist as he kissed you back. You vaulted up into his arms, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as he lifted you, staggering across the kitchen as you both blindly bumped into the counter and the table. He finally pinned you against the wall, your back flush with the cool plaster as he broke away and forced you to look him in the eye.

“I’m serious, Doll. It’s important that-”

But you gave him no leeway, diving back onto him as you greedily found his lips once more.

“Later…later. Please…” you mumbled into his mouth as your hands frantically ran up his shoulders. You were so desperate to have him that you couldn’t wait a moment longer. And maybe part of you worried he’d talk himself out of it.

But he broke away again and you sighed with frustration as he pointed a stern finger in your face, the other arm keeping you upright.

“Stop that” he chided.

You tried to move to him again but he caught your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks in his fingers so that you looked like a caught fish. You sighed, admitting defeat and prying his hand off of you, pressing yourself against the wall as you waited for him to talk.

“That’s better” he smirked triumphantly before becoming serious again. “Okay. If we’re gonna do this, there’s no going back. You understand?”

You nodded obediently.

“It’s going to be intense. You get that foggy feeling when I feed from you? I feel a version of it too. That means we have a strong connection. It’s sort of like a bond. It happens sometimes with certain pairings of vampires and humans. Nobody really knows why, we just know it intensifies even further if that pairing have sex. So I need you to know this all going in, because it might feel overwhelming at times, alright?”

You nodded again, both exhilarated and slightly nervous. Also it felt validating to know you weren’t just a horny mess and there was something there.

“But I’ll be here with you alright? And we can slow down or even stop if it gets too much. You just need to communicate with me”.

“Okay. I can do that” you respond shyly.

He watches your face for a moment, seemingly checking that you understand everything he’s told you. After he seems satisfied, his gaze changes to something darker as his eyes scan you up and down. He’s still holding you against the wall, your legs squirm slightly around his waist. You realise the position he has you in leaves you quite…vulnerable.

“You’re wearing that to get me going, aren’t you?” he whispers, roughly pawing at your tight leggings.

You feel moisture pooling between your legs as you stare back at him defiantly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He laughs. “Oh, really?” A finger slowly traces from your collarbone down across the curve of your breast and down to your stomach. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen as your skin goosebumps under his touch but you manage to keep your composure. Mostly.

“So it’s just a coincidence that tonight of all nights you’re wearing something that means I can see almost every part of you?” he asks, his face inquisitive.

“I just like to be comfortable at home” you reply breezily.

He grins, his finger still exploring your torso.

“There’s something I want to ask you…” he says softly as his finger moves from your stomach down to the apex of your thighs. You flinch, your body freezing as he hovers over your crotch.

“Mm?” you respond, unable to tear your eyes away from the precarious position his hand hovers in.

You gasp slightly as he begins circling your clothed core, the tight material means the sensation is especially heightened and your arms shoot up to grab his shoulders for support. You cling to him and he smirks as he presses his forehead against yours and continues to work you over. You begin to whimper softly and bite down on your bottom lip as the sensation leaves you breathless. You can already feel the beginnings of a climax and he’s barely started.

“I wanted to ask…” he continues as you subconsciously wriggle against his hand. His voice is softer than you’d ever heard it, velvety. You can practically feel the arousal radiating from him and it surges your ego like nothing else.

 “…I’d like to feed before we really get started. But from your neck, this time”.

You pull back and look at him, finally distracted from his touch.

“My…neck?” you ask hesitantly, your fingers move up to stroke over where your jugular is.

He nods. Removing his hand for a moment and delicately kissing your neck instead. You sigh as his lips ghost over your skin, closing your eyes as you lean into the tingling feeling.

“Yes, right here” he whispers as his tongue takes a cautious swipe over your nape. He groans slightly as he leans back into the kisses. “Like Steve said that first night we met, it’s a very intimate area to feed from. But if you agree…I really think it’ll enhance the experience…for both of us”.

He sucks on a patch of skin and you shudder with pleasure as he nips at you gently with his fangs, your fingers dig hard into his shoulder blades.

“…Okay” you manage to utter breathlessly.

He pulls back and grins fiendishly at you, fangs bared and smile wide. You’ve never felt more like prey than in this moment. That man will swallow you whole if given the chance.

“Okay” he nods. “Let’s go…”.

He pulls you away from the wall and throws you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, you shriek with excitement as he heads to the stairs.

[ryiju-muunie]

Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me

Werewolf!Zoro Roronoa/Sanji Vinsmoke Warnings: Humor, romance, crack treated seriously, bonding, accidental confession, happy ending, fluff, it gets sappy, cuddling Word count: 3260 DESC: Sanji tames a werewolf, who tamed his heart [awww]

I know it's November I just forgot to post this on Halloween

NOTES: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I wasn't gonna post anything but I HAVE TO ITS MY FAVORITE HOLLIDAY!!! I love the idea of werewolf Zoro and I especially love the idea of werewolf Zoro being unhinged as hell [you'll see].I hope you enjoy this! Comment your favorite part mine is the spray bottle [you'll also see]. Have a safe Halloween.

I have something important to show you. Come to my house, the doors open - Zoro

It was a weird letter to receive, first off. But it was especially weird to Sanji who received it at 9 o’clock at night when he was almost ready for bed. The paper was slid underneath his door and a loud knock erupted through his apartment, before it fell eerily silent. This time of year always freaked him out, with the longer nights and cold chills that sent goosebumps down his arms. Not to mention, all the pumpkins. He just hated pumpkin flavored shit, what could he say?

He braced himself for whatever the moss for brains had planned and got dressed, walking out of his apartment. The drive to Zoro’s was always quick, for how deep into the woods he lived. It was just on the outskirts of town, covered in brush and barely visible. The house itself was tall and rickety, barely being held together with nothing but spare wood planks and determination. The paint was peeling and chipped, with bars on the windows. 

The bars… Sanji didn’t remember those being there the last time he was over. He shook his head and pulled into the driveway. It must have been some new decorations for halloween, or whatever. 

The man got out of his car and walked to the front door, where it was open. Dangerous and stupid like Zoro, he thought. But he brushed it all down and walked inside, letting the darkness consume him. It wasn’t super dark inside, but dull. No lights aside from one candle lit and set on an armoire in the front hallway that led to the stairs. It was creepy, it was something out of his nightmares. 

“Marimo?” Sanji called, looking up to see if there was a light on upstairs, a signal that the other one was alive and not playing some dastardly trick on him. It had to be a prank to try and get the blonde into the halloween spirit, and he wasn’t having any of it. It was mean and it was annoying, and damn, he was going to punch Zoro after this. 

“Up here,” a gruff voice shouted back, letting a wave of relief flow through Sanji’s body. He pressed his lips together and went up the steep steps of the stairs, careful not to trip on how close together they were. 

The upstairs was darker, making it hard to see where Zoro was calling from. But the blonde had been around his place enough times to know where his room was, feeling in the dark for the doorknob. He grabbed the handle and pushed it open to see the moss-head standing over his bedside, tying a chain around the first bedpost by the front of the bed. There were chains on either bedpost at the foot of the mattress, all long enough with cuffs attached to … 

“I’m not playing with whatever sick shit you’re trying to do here,” Sanji frowned, crossing his arms over his chest at the sight. 

“It’s not for you,” Zoro replied with disinterest as he finished fastening the rest of the chain to the last post. He turned to look over his shoulder, eyes blown out with something akin to anxiety, “I just need your help setting up, and well, if you set up I gotta tell you.” 

“Tell me what,” he prodded. 

“Robin typically helps me,” the moss continued, ignoring his friend and shrugging off his shirt, “But she’s out of town for the rest of the month, so now it’s gonna be you.” They made eye contact and Sanji could have sworn he saw the other man shake as he dropped his shirt and began to work on his pants. 

“Zoro put your shirt back on,” Sanji narrowed his eyes, “What am I helping you with? What are you telling me!?” He tried to ask, to continue on, but he was cut off when Zoro, did in fact, drop his pants, “Oh, you’re disgusting,” the blonde shuddered. 

“I need you to cuff me to the chains,” Zoro sat down on the bed and watched his friend who was avoiding eye contact, “And then stand really far back.” 

“Can you tell me why I’m doing any of this?” He raised an eyebrow and walked forward anyway, taking a cuff in his hands and locking it around his green-haired friend’s wrist. The other man shifted to lie on his back so Sanji could cuff the rest of his limbs. 

“Technically, I can. But you need to see it to believe it,” his argument was stupid, but the blonde sighed and went along with it anyway. Once Zoro was chained up as per his own request, Sanji hastily made his way to the far corner of the room, warily watching the other man. He seemed nervous about the whole ordeal, oddly jittery for someone who was always so stoically annoying.

Then it started. Almost seemingly as the old grandfather clock in the corner turned to midnight Zoro let out a gasp and strained against his restraints, trying to break away from the hold it had on him. The curly-browed man stared in horror as his friend groaned and shifted in pain, before he simply … turned into a wolf. It wasn’t grotesque and there wasn’t much show to it. He very much poofed into a large werewolf, tied up to the bed and snapping. Foam dribbled from his mouth and canines glittered in the pale light. 

“Oh my fuck,” Sanji stared, slowly feeling behind him for the doorknob to escape. Zoro’s dog form slowly turned to watch him, before lunging as much as he could go. He pulled the bed and attempted to bite, snarling and chomping the air with malice. The blonde found the doorknob and threw the door open, rushing downstairs toward the front door. He had to get out of there, he had to leave, to protect himself! Zoro would be fine, right? He could handle it!

But as he held onto the front door, letting out shuddering breaths, Sanji couldn’t find it in his heart to leave. There was something so disheartening about the anxious way the moss stared outside, shaking with fear before he was about to transform. Like he knew he was going to do something he regretted, so he was forced to tie himself up. He wanted to be there for his friend forever and always, even if it was in ways he knew weren’t ever reciprocated. And clearly he was in a violent daze, because the real Zoro would die before ever attacking someone without reason. 

Maybe he could break it. The thought rang in Sanji’s head once, before taking over his mind. I mean, he had seen enough Cesar Millan to know how to train dogs. And Yonji had always begged for a dog when they were younger, so he grew up with a rather large St. Bernard always running him over with little care for him and his well being. He could do this. He could defeat Zoro’s haze and get him to at least not be as violent, maybe even more normal. 

The blonde looked up to the stairs, where he heard a mix of barking, whining, snapping, and howling all from the werewolf’s bedroom. It was creepy, but he was going to power through. So he went to the kitchen and found his new armor for the night. Tongs, so he wouldn’t have to put his hands anywhere near the beast. A pillow taped to his front as the actual armor. Oven mitts, to protect said hands. Bacon bits, as a bribery. And a spray bottle, as the last resort. 

He crept up the stairs and peaked inside the room, where Zoro had gotten ahold of a pillow and was ripping it to shreds with his teeth, sending bits of stuffing everywhere with the shake of his head. Sanji swallowed at the sight and braced himself, knowing what he had to do. 

He inhaled and stepped inside, clearing his throat to get the mutts attention, “Moss! I’ve co-” And before he could speak Zoro started barking, throwing himself at the blonde and trying to attack without a second thought. Thankfully, those chains and handcuffs were strong enough to keep him at bay, and strong enough that he didn’t lunge too far. 

“Okay, okay, who wants a treat?” Sanji raised his oven mitted hand, which held tongs, which held a bacon bit. The werewolf sniffed the air for a moment then bared his teeth, snarling when the blonde attempted to approach him any further. He threw the treat at his friend, who caught it, ate it, enjoyed it, then went back to barking. 

“Okay shut up,” Sanji tried but he was cut off with more barking, “Moss I said- SHUT UP YOU DAMN DOG, GODDAMMIT!” He pulled out the spray bottle, spraying Zoro once. The [might I add very green] werewolf paused and tilted his head, going to bark but he was silenced with another spray, “SHUT UP! OKAY? BARK! YEAH I CAN BARK TOO!” Another spray, “BARK BARK BARK!” While he sprayed, “JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN BARK DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE SPECIAL! I CAN BARK!” He continued to douse the mutt until they were staring at each other, one sopping with water, and one incredulously panting.

Zoro raised his dog eyebrows and blinked a few times, opening his mouth to even think about barking, but was quickly sprayed again, “I can do this all night doggy,” the man narrowed his eyes and raised his tongs, with another bacon bit encapsulated in its grasp, “Now who wants a treat?” 

The moss’s tail started to wag, his mouth opening and tongue lolling from its clutching, “Of course you do,” Sanji threw him the treat and became pleasantly surprised when he ate it and smiled [as much as a wolf can smile], “You’re nothing but a pig.” At that Zoro growled, furrowing his eyes and flattening his ears. The blonde didn’t cower though, because he saw the werewolf’s tail wagging, giving him a clue he was all bark and no bite [get it].

“Okay now if I let you out, you can’t bite me, okay?” Sanji cautiously approached his friend, whos tail sped up in small circles underneath him as he baby talked, “Cause I’ll fucking skin you, yes I will,” he laughed when Zoro frowned, but nuzzeled his snout against the blondes front regardless. 

Never was the moss for brains this clingy, but he seemed grateful. The way Zoro’s nose pressed against his friend's stomach and his eyes looked up showed he was trying to thank him in some way, for breaking whatever haze he was under. For taming him. Sanji hesitated for a moment then placed his hand over top of his werewolf’s forehead, lightly combing through the thick strands of forest green. 

“God you probably need a bath,” the man sneered playfully, unclasping the handcuffs at his front, then moving to the foot of the bed to get the rest. Zoro flopped onto his side and stood up, shaking a bit and letting random twigs and leaves fall from his coat. Sanji didn’t question it but exhaled relief. This was one hell of a night. 

“So,” he clasped his hands together, “I should probably walk you or something,” the werewolf perked up and leaned forward, so he was in the stereotypical play pose [butt in the air with his head down], barking like an idiot. His tail hit the wall behind him with a loud thump, causing his friend to stare at him silently for a few minutes, “...Seriously? You’re that excited over a walk?” 

Zoro barked playfully in response, eyes wide with excitement. 

“God, okay-okay. Do you have a collar or leash I could use?” At that the dog snapped, causing Sanji to raise his hands in mock surrender, “Fine. Just don’t wander. At all.”

The two found themselves outside, greeted with the dark world around them. Now it made sense to Sanji, why his friend bought those metal bars or lived in the middle of butt fuck no where [outskirts of town, but it has the same vibe]. The grass was freshly cut and damp underneath his feet as he perched down, watching as Zoro ran around like a maniac. The wind blew his fluffy fur back and his tongue hung out as he ran in circle after circle after circle. There had to be so much pent up energy from all that transforming, the blonde wouldn’t be surprised if he conked out then and there. 

Zoro came up to the curly-browed man and jumped, placing his large front paws on his chest. He wheezed out a response before stumbling and falling back into the grass with a small thud, “Oh you.. Big bitch,” Sanji heaved, leaning his head back against the blades of green. 

The werewolf laid beside him with a heavy sigh, before barking to get the male's attention. He looked up and watched as the dog flipped himself onto his side and started to roll around. Sanji propped himself onto his elbows and gazed with a new fondness as Zoro rolled around, picking himself up to run around a bit, before plopping back down in the same spot and rolling on his back. He was like a new person. He was free. 

It was cute in a way to watch Zoro without a care in the world, lounge and run as if he had no responsibilities. Moments like these pulled at Sanji’s heart and made him never want to leave, made him never want to acknowledge the depth to which his feelings ran. The lengths in which his feelings delved to, turning from something platonic into something more. It was stupid to think the moss would ever realize, or even feel the same way. So he preferred to keep his feelings locked away in a box where they could never come out. 

“God,” Sanji let out a laugh, wiping some damp grass from his cheek as Zoro came to plop down beside him on his back, “You’re so stupid…” He smiled down at the dog, who opened his mouth and barked in response, “I don’t know why I love an idiot like you.” 

Time froze after he spoke. 

Sanji didn’t mean to say that. He didn’t mean for it to come out. It just slipped from his tongue in a moment that felt too natural, too right. In a moment that felt as though it was made for him and Zoro to share. As if everything in the universe happened to lead up to that moment, to confess. But he didn’t mean to. 

Zoro sat up and tilted his head to the side, letting green ears flop on his forehead, “What? I didn’t say anything, moss. You’re looking at me weird.” An embarrassed blush crept onto the blonde's cheeks as he sat up himself and brushed some hair behind his ear, “I said nothing.” 

The werewolf extended his paw and attempted to put it on his friend's shoulder, but he missed and ended up continuously pawing him to get attention instead. They made eye contact with something sincere in Zoro’s eyes, as if he was trying so hard to speak. He opened his mouth and closed it furiously, trying to will the words to come out instead of garbled whines that followed suit.

If only he understood dog, Sanji supposed. 

Being rejected by someone while they were a werewolf stung, he knew that much. But he hoped that maybe this whole night would be nothing but a faint memory for Zoro, that he’d recall none of it and the blonde could die happy.

“You don’t have to say it,” the man spoke for him, “You don’t have to say anything. You probably won’t even remember this,” knowing his luck the moss-head definitely would, “I’ll be okay.” Sanji put on a smile and put his hand on his friend's head, ruffling the fur, “Maybe we should go inside and I’ll tuck you in for bed, wittle baby.” 

At that Zoro snarled, with his tail up in a zig-zag motion. 

The man stood up and let the werewolf lead him inside and travel up the stairs to his bed which had seen better days. The green-furred wolf jumped onto his mattress and started to dig on it to make it more comfortable, although with his paws he was going to make a hole in no time. Sanji stood by the doorway and watched fondly, seeing him curl up into a ball before stretching out against the far side of the bed. Leaving plenty of … room.

“I’m not staying here,” to which Zoro whined and pressed his head into the bed, “You can survive on your own for a night, Marimo.” He crossed his arms as if to say that was final, although Sanji wished he could let himself say yes. That he could let this mean more than he knew it was going to mean. The moss whined again and sat up, lifting his paw in the air and attempting to grab at him. But there was so much distance, it fell flat.

“I can sleep downstairs,” he proposed to a dissatisfied bark, “You want me to sleep in the bed!?” Zoro nodded his head and let his tail wag, barking to signal a yes. God, he was so clingy as a dog.

“I’m not.” 

Bark. 

“I said I’m not, idiot!” 

Another, louder bark. 

“Zoro you- you- fine! Okay! Fine. But when you turn human put on some fucking boxers, okay!?” Sanji marched into the room, against all the protests in his head telling him to turn away, and he sat on the edge of the bed, “And keep your distance you smell like wet dog.” 

The two found themselves cozied in bed, Zoro pressed against the wall while Sanji attempted to lay by the edge, with his back to his friend. The blanket covered both of them and smelled so much of Marimo, it was intoxicating. He couldn’t help but indulge in the scent for a little bit, since it would only be for that night. 

Every so often the werewolf would stretch and whine, gently pawing at his friends back. As if he was asking him to come just a little closer. Break the distance just a little bit. As much as he wanted to, Sanji tried to feign sleep and push him away. When sleep did hit him, it was dreamless and dark. Something quiet, almost like a warm blanket had taken over his mind and trapped him in a void of nothingness. 

When he awoke, something was different. There was a new warmth pressed against his back, a hand underneath his shirt rubbing circles on his stomach, and a nose pressed against the nape of his neck. It was perfect, it was heaven, it was right. As if everything Sanji had ever done had led up to this moment, to every moment with that blundering moss. 

It didn’t even register in his head that this warmth was Zoro in human form, or the idiot did not put on boxers like he had agreed to. 

It all came to ahead though, when he felt a pair of lips pressed against his neck, in a chaste yet loving kiss. And he heard those words, “I love you too.”

[whumble-beeee]

Tortured? I Was Tortured Once.

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 5

Content: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, past captivity references, torture, threats, begging, blood

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[{When hero-keeping in the short term}... it's imperative to do everything in your power to keep your identity a secret; wear a mask to hide your face, cover as much of your body as possible to minimize the amount of prints, hair, or other forms of DNA/evidence you could leave behind at the scene. Use a voice modulator, and if you can help it, don’t even be in the same room with the hero when they are conscious. Most importantly, do not tell the hero any identifying details about yourself, your loved ones, or your past.

This is solely to protect you, the dastardly villain! Should the hero ever escape or decide to take revenge (not that a hero would ever dare, as long as you follow the instructions in this guide!), you want to make it nigh impossible to find you and hurt you, lest they turn you into their captured villain!]

* * * * * * * *

“Alright!” Deeby clapped his hands together, chipper than ever. “So, back when I was in the early days of my job, I sometimes made some… questionable choices. Dangerous ones. Not that what I do isn’t dangerous, I can handle the dangers of the job. I mean I fucked with the wrong people. Powerful people. Not in the sense of… y’know, what you have. Super-powers. I mean like they were like a crime lord or CEO, lotta money, lotta power… God, I was a fucking idiot. But hey, live and learn, right?”

He brushed at Stan’s cheek to ease his attention up and away from the floor, where it had been firmly located since the start of the monologue. Stan just leaned away slightly and tried not to let his burning eyes brim over into tears. “I’m still here, right? Still kicking, so I must have done something right.”

“Unfortunately…” Stan mumbled.

“Repite?”

“Nothing.”

Deeby tilted his head matter-of-factly. “Look, if you’re gonna be defiant, at least do it loud and proud, bud.” He ruffled Stan’s hair much too aggressively for Stan’s liking.

“Might actually respect you if you did that. Anyway, I’m sure you can figure out what basically happened after that; I got hired to rough up some asshole’s waste-of-space trust fund kid, gave him back with a couple bones broken and a couple extra bullet holes, but he was fine, then daddy got mad and managed to find me somehow, and here’s where it gets really interesting, bud. You wanna know what this chain’s for?”

He reached up and jangled the metal loops reaching down from the ceiling, and the chain shifted just enough to barely nudge into Stan and nearly send him careening backward again from fear.

“Uh…” He’d been doing his damndest to ignore the mercenary and retreat into himself, and was actually half succeeding right up until the required audience participation. The question just served to jarringly rip him back headfirst into the painful and hopeless despair of the present situation. “Not–... Not really…”

“Sucks to be you then, I guess. So I get knocked out and kidnapped, and I wake up in this, like, fucked up white-tiled torture room with like a drain in the floor and suspicious cabinets and all that, and then I'm strung up in the center of the room–...”

He grabbed Stan's arms and wrenched them up all the way above his head, so his wrists were together in Deeby's hands and held flush with the chain. Then he pulled up even more. Stan squeaked and briefly struggled to tug away, but quickly fell into pliable stiffness under the mercenary’s warning stare. So instead, he stretched as tall as he could, shoulders pressing the sides of the collar into his neck to try and relieve the tension. It didn't really work.

“...–Like this. So I was literally hanging from the ceiling from my wrists, feet barely even touching the ground, cuffs grinding into my wrists so bad they were already bleeding when I woke up, it hurt like shit. Hold your arms up there, would ya bud?”

Deeby let go of Stan's wrists and he immediately pulled them back into his sides. No way he was holding himself in a torture position. No way.

That was until the mercenary regrabbed his wrists and slammed them back up into the chain, leaning down slightly and getting way too close to Stan’s face. He could feel the body heat radiating off the man.

Stan leaned away as much as he physically could, which wasn’t much with his arms holding him excruciatingly erect.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves,” Deeby growled, not a trace of his usual smile highlighting his fiery eyes. “Hold the position or I’ll lock your handcuffs up there just like they did to me and we can roleplay it exactly as it played out. You wanna do that instead?”

Stan managed a minuscule shake of the head. He was sure he’d be able to feel the bounty hunter’s breath on his face if it weren’t for the mask.

“Speak up, runt.”

“G-got it,” Stan breathed.

Deeby more tentatively let go of Stan's wrists this time, an unnecessary precaution, since Stan grasped the chain and held onto it for dear life so as not to anger him further.

This isn't so bad. He lied to himself, Deeby mercifully backing up to more than inches away from his face. At least there aren't any flashbacks now. Just have to hold the chain.

“Yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

He held up his fingers to create a fake camera frame around Stan. As if he knew exactly what picture he wanted to paint with Stan's body.

“So I woke up like that, hanging by the wrists, and of course I recognized the guy because I do my research, y'know? So I woke up and I already knew exactly what was happening. He tried to monologue at me, I bantered back, the guy was getting all pissy because I guess I was too smug or whatever. And… well, I forgot to say, when I woke up, they'd taken off my shirt–”

Deeby started to twiddle at the top button on Stan's button-down and, with an amount of force that surprised the both of them, Stan slapped his hand away and nearly toppled to the ground jumping backward.

“Don't touch my shirt!” he yelped. He tripped over the chain that anchored him to the corner sending spirals of agony out from his knee again before he stabilized himself and stared at the mercenary in abject terror.

Deeby stared back in disbelief. Then a flash of danger, a slight tilt of the chin, furrowing of the eyebrows, a tensing of the shoulders.

“You… really don't know when to quit. Do you?” he growled.

Stan took another small limp back. “I–”

“I'm not gonna take your shirt off.” Stan barely withheld the primal urge to fully turn around and run when the mercenary surged forward, grabbed Stan by the chain of the handcuffs, and yanked him forward. The southern twang rang so hopelessly clear through his wrathful voice. “I am many unsavory things, but a perv ain't fuckin’ one of 'em. Get back over here and stay before I kick your ass again.”

Then once again, Stan found himself with his arms pinned above his head and flush against the chain. Though this time, the mercenary clamped his hand over Stan's own, pressed them in so hard that Stan's fingers smushed painfully between the chain links. He didn’t even try to struggle. Just tried to shrink away from his towering presence and keep his eyes on the floor. Not let Deeby see the redness of his eyes that threatened tears.

“So, Stan, whaddya think they did to me next?” Deeby questioned, humor all but gone from his voice. “Strung up, shirt off, completely helpless and at their mercy. What would you do if you were a sick sonofabitch getting revenge on the person who tortured your son?”

Stan stared off to the side. “I… I don't…–”

“Oh come on, bud, you must have some sort of idea. Can't think of a single way you'd hurt–”

“No, no, no no nononoNO!” Stan mutter bordered on shouting as he started trying to yank his hands out of the mercenary’s grasp and only succeeded in yanking them hard enough that he was being held up solely and much more painfully by the cuffs themselves.

He couldn't take this anymore, was Deeby gonna torture him or not?

“I can't think of a single way I'd wanna torture someone! I'm not some– some freak sadist kidnapper-torturer like that guy! Or like you!!”

Deeby hummed lightly, unfazed by yet another one of Stan's outbursts, holding the cuffs firm. “You'll learn.”

Stan growled and yanked again, hard enough that when they didn't give it all, he actually lifted into the air slightly. He cried out from the bite of the metal digging into his wrists and scraping into the top layers of skin. A few drips of blood started to pool on the surface.

If Deeby noticed the scarlet now smeared across Stan's wrists, he didn't show it. He just pulled the chain of the cuffs up further. Stan's elbows locked straight up, pressing into the side of his head. He almost had to go up on his tiptoes.

“Besides,” the hunter continued nonchalantly. “What he did to me isn't what I would do to you, if I were to torture you.”

“IF!?” Stan groaned, trying another weak yank against the cuffs and sending small lightning bolts of pain down his arms. “What do you mean ‘if’?! What–… What do you call this?”

Deeby shrugged. “Foreplay?”

Stan froze dead in his tracks. He could physically feel all the blood leaving his head and rushing down straight to his feet. Foreplay? As in… There was… Ge wouldn't, right? There was no way.

“Y-you–...” He could barely even get words to form properly, barely able to suck in enough air to even speak. “You–... Wait, you–”

“Cálmate, Stan, Christ, it was a joke. Loosen up. Wanna know what I would do, though?”

“Ah…”

His head felt like it had just been dunked underwater. Or maybe that was the concussion coming back haunt this waking nightmare once more. Who’s to say? Why not both, make it a party.

And yet, Deeby still leaned down to whisper in Stan's ear; “There's a reason I put the leash chain on your good leg.”

Before Stan could react, Deeby leaned back on his heels and pulled the chain hanging from the ceiling with him, unbalancing Stan just enough that he had to try to take a step forward to readjust, except the fetter on his ankle caught on the very end of the leash. He couldn't get his good leg under himself for support. Which left–

Stan let out a yelp as his full weight fell onto his injured knee, shooting rivulets of pain all the way up to his spine. And couldn't shift his weight off of it with how to chain dragged him out, so when his knee immediately buckled to save himself from the screeching pain, he had the new problem of the cuffs knawing into his already bloody wrists, which made him scream again and claw desperately at the chain and the hand holding him up until he was death gripping the chain in a half pullup. His arms were already shaking from the strain of it.

“DEEBY!!” He choked out. “Deeby! Deeby please stop, stop, I can't AUAGH–” He slipped and spent agonizing moments flailing before he got another hold again, moments in which Deeby didn't let up at all, despite Stan's amiable requests.

“Deeby you said–!” he could barely squeak out a phrase through the tear-blurred vision and gasping breaths and the sheer amount of concentration it took to focus through the already horrible aches and agony the clench onto the chain and hold himself up and not make it worse. “You said no torture! You– you said–! Let go! You said you wouldn't–”

“I said I wouldn't hurt you if you did what I told you to.” Deeby retorted nonchalantly, pulling back on the chain just a bit more and wrenching Stan even more off balance. “Which you didn't.”

“Let go–!” Stan tugged as hard as he could. No give.

“Repeatedly.”

“I can't–” Stan's voice cracked. His hands were on fire clutching onto the cold metal links. “I can't hold this, I can't, I can't, please let go-o, it– it hurts! Please!”

“That's the point, bud, it's a stress position. It stresses you. You’re doing great, chiquito, taking it like a champ.”

Little droplets of blood left bright red tracks down Stan's forearms as whines squeaked out from behind his gritted teeth in place of the full blown screams he refused to let out.

“I hate you.”

“Tell you what, bud. If you can shut up for just 30 seconds, no whines, no cries, no begging or grand sweeping declarations of feelings, I'll let you down. Deal?”

“That’s–!”

“Take it or leave it. Deal?”

“Deal–! Deal!”

“Great, now mouth-shut.”

Stan immediately squeezed his lips together as violently as possible and focused every single fiber of his being into holding himself up, keeping off his bad knee and not letting the cuffs scrape his arms to bone while also not squeaking in pain or cursing Deeby out. That may have been the hardest part of the entire balancing act. His muscles burned with the strain. His hands started to slip on the chain from the sweat, so he gripped harder, hard enough that his hands started to go numb. That was fine. Less pain, right? Was thirty seconds over yet? Stan just had to pray that Deeby would keep his word this time and actually only do thirty seconds. God he would give anything to just go home. See his family again. Be out of this hell.

Then a new, perfunctory voice shattered his fragile concentration. He'd been so laser focused hadn't even noticed someone else enter the room.

“Oh, did I interrupt an intimate moment? I can come back in ten minutes if you two wanna finish up.”

Stan’s grip slipped on the chain and he cried out, catching himself after an agonizing centimeter fall and praying to anyone that would listen that Deeby wouldn’t get mad at him for it. Though Deeby didn't seem to care too much anymore as his own grip holding Stan's cuffs loosened and a small growl ementated from the bottom of his throat.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Then Stan was suddenly freed, cuffs no longer held in the iron grip of a bounty hunter, and he collapsed to the floor in a graceless heap.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

[gosecretscribbles]

Rise August 2024 Day 11: Mud Dogs (What Doesn't Kill You Is Great Comedy Material 1/2)

Summary: The Mud Dogs haven’t been giving Mama enough loot, so she has other plans for them. 

Trigger Warning: short Battle Nexus fight, non-graphic injuries, Big Mama-style manipulation and traps via contract.

Keeping the pace pretty brisk to match the style in Raph’s Ride-Along.  Had a lot of fun with this one!  Enjoy!

Loathsome Leonard dumped the bag of loot on Big Mama’s desk.

“There you go, Big Mama! That’s, uh, that’s actually more than the usual cut! Like fifty percent of it! Haha!”

The loot was a single gold cup and a handful of coins. Leonard knew it wasn’t enough, but he kept up a wide grin anyway.

Big Mama looked down at it for a long moment. Then she lifted her eyes to Loathsome Leonard and his three chums crowded behind him. Leonard didn’t dare turn, but he could feel Dastardly Danny and Malicious Mickey wearing identical nervous grins. Heinous Green grunted. Big Mama still hadn’t moved.

Leonard started to sweat. “See, uh, we haven’t had the best luck, and we haven’t gone out as much – we’ve sort of been running a –”

“Not to worry, my dearwiffle darling,” she purred. “I think this could be your most valuable donation yet.”

“I-it is?”

“Oh yes.” She snapped her fingers. The panels along the walls slid open and the Mud Dogs were immediately surrounded by two dozen of Big Mama’s beefiest body guards. “Take these charming young clowns to the Battle Nexus. They’ll make marvelous entertainment.”

“Hey – wait!”

“We can’t!” Mickey yelped.

“We got prior obligations!” Danny shouted.

“Unnnngh,” Hank groaned.

But the four of them were tied up and tossed into the dungeons anyway. It was one of the bigger rooms, at least, but even at Hank’s smallest size, there wasn’t a lot of room.

Mickey grabbed Danny’s jacket. “What’re we gonna do, Danny?!”

“Cut it out!” Danny planted a clawed hand in Mickey’s face and shoved him away. Then he took a tiny shitzu out of his bright purple jacket. “You’re squishin’ Chaos!”

Chaos yipped adorably.

Mickey clutched at his chest. “What about all the other doggies we’ve been rescuing? They’ll all starve if we can’t get back to them! And Mrs. Num-Num needs her tummy rubbed!”

Leonard stood and ran his hand grimly along the stone walls. “No way outta this, boys,” he said darkly. “This ain’t prison. We can’t escape like we did before. We gotta think of another angle.”

Hank grabbed at the wall. His fingers crushed the rock. He pulled a brick out and chewed it.

Mickey beamed at him. “Aw, Hank! We love you, too!”

Danny scowled. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess, Loathsome Leonard! If we’d stolen the Chalice of Prophetic Destruction, we’d have had enough to keep Big Mama happy! But no! You wanted to steal from some cheap human museum. Who cares about the Holy Grail? It ain’t worth nothin’!”

“Guys, guys!” Mickey pushed the two of them apart. “Fighting won’t get Mrs. Num-Num her belly rubs!”

Leonard growled and looked away. “Fine. I got somethin’ Big Mama’ll want. Oi!” He stuck an arm out of the cell and waved for a guard’s attention. “You hear me? I got somethin’ Big Mama will want more than a buncha rodeo clowns!”

The guard, a bright pink squid yokai, oozed its way down the corridor. “You sure?” it burbled.

“I’m sure,” Leonard said.

The guard blew a bubble between the bars. It blooped over Leonard. The guard reached in and attached a tentacle to the bubble. Then it pulled Leonard out and down the hallway, Leonard bobbing up and down like a balloon.

Mickey looked nervous. “What d’ya think he’s gonna do?”

Danny scowled. “Something dumb.”

Hank groaned, pulled another brick from the wall, and chewed it.

A look of realization crept over Mickey’s face. “Heeey, I think I’ve got an idea!”

It took a couple hours for Hank to eat his way through the wall. They made a mistake the first time and ended up in someone else’s cell. Then they tried getting Hank to tunnel under the cell door, but the floor was made of dirt and even Mickey’s famous mud pies couldn’t make that very appealing. Eventually Hank got annoyed and punched the back wall. The new opening brought them into the long hallway that led straight to the Battle Nexus Arena. As they crawled out, there was a loud cheer. A battle! The three of them rushed to the barred opening, eager to see a good fight.

Mikey screamed. “Leonard! NO!”

Leonard couldn’t hear him. He was battling a massive black scorpion yokai with a whip-like tail and pincers big enough to snap even Hank in half. Leonard darted in and out of the scorpion’s reach. The red stripe over his left eye now had a matching stripe of blood over his right. He was breathing heavily.

Mickey grabbed Danny. “We have to get him out of there!”

“I’m on it!”

Danny shoved Chaos at Mickey and then squeezed under the barred door, contorting his rat yokai muscle and bone. He popped up on the other side just as the scorpion landed a lucky hit, smacking Leonard in the chest so hard he went flying several feet across the gritty arena floor. He didn’t get up. The crowd went wild.

“LEONARD!” Mickey and Danny both screamed. Then Danny had to dive out of the way because Hank ran head-first through the entrance, the bars caught around his neolithic skull. He kept charging until he rammed into the scorpion yokai. It hissed and whipped its tail at him. Danny grabbed a conveniently broken piece of bar and leaped forward to block the blow. Mickey passed Chaos back Danny and leaped on Hank’s fist. Mickey’s eel body lit up with an electric charge and Hank rammed him into the scorpion’s head. The scorpion dropped. The crowd went even wilder.

Mickey and Danny were already sprinting for Leonard. Hank lumbered behind them, groaning. Leonard was still conscious, but his eyes were glazed with pain.

“You’re an idiot!” Danny barked at him. “How is getting yourself killed going to help anything?”

“I’m fixing it,” Leonard coughed. “Big Mama said she’d let us go if I won a fight.”

“You didn’t win,” Big Mama called from her box. The four of them looked up at her.

“He ain’t standin’ up!” Leonard called, pointing at the scorpion.

“Neither are you,” Big Mama cooed. “I’d say it’s a diddly-draw, but your brothers in crime did most of the work!”

She snapped her fingers. Panels around the arena opened, and the same two dozen guards stepped out. They all zeroed in on the Mud Dogs. Danny bit, Mickey cried, and Hank groaned ominously, but the four of them still wound up in a cell – this time with a badly hurt Loathsome Leonard.

“At least get him medical attention!” Danny snapped at their squid guard. The squid guard blew a bubble that went around Danny’s head. He yelled again, then pulled at the bubble, but no sound came out. He sat down in a huff.

“We gotta,” Leonard started, but trailed off coughing. Chaos peeked out of Danny’s jacket and yipped with concern.

“We gotta find help,” Mickey said confidently. “And I think I know just who to ask. Hank! Did that big fight work up an appetite?”

Hank blinked one eye at a time. Then he pulled another brick from the wall and chewed.

“Great! I need to get into the sewers. Danny, you stay here and take care of Leonard. Leonard, you stay here and take care of Chaos. She turns inside-out when she’s stressed.”

Chaos yipped. Then she turned inside out. Leonard braced himself and reached over carefully to tap her nose. She turned right-side out again.

Mickey directed Hank to a spot where he could smell water. Hank pulled and chewed bricks until a new hole formed, this one leading straight down to a tunnel of sewage. Mickey popped the head bubble off of Danny, crammed it onto his own head instead, and dove head-first into the murky water.

Just as he’d thought, the sewage system of the Hidden City connected to the sewage system of New York. (Danny once said this was how New Yorkers got myths about alligators in the sewers. Mickey knew that was dumb – the alligator yokai really did live there! Along with actual alligators.)

Eventually Mickey found a part of the New York sewers covered in turtle-themed graffiti and even one of Lou Jitsu. He brightened. He loved Lou Jitsu! He was a big fan! Maybe if he met another fan, they could help him find the turtles!

He swam further until he heard the sound of voices. A sudden water current dragged him sideways, then straight up until he hit his bubble-helmet on a metal lid. The bubble popped. Mickey held his breath and tried to head-butt the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. Did it unscrew? Oh! Maybe it was like those push-then-unscrew medicine bottles! But how could he push down?

Suddenly he heard voices. There was a rusty squeak and the lid popped off.

“ – when it’s 4 AM, Mikey, there are no alligators in the –”

Two turtles looked down at Mickey. One had a blue bandana and the other had an orange one. All three of them screamed.

“AAAH! IT’S AN ALLIGATOR!” screamed the orange turtle.

“AAAH! IT HAS TERRIBLE SKINCARE!” screamed the blue turtle.

“AAAH! I’M SCREAMING!” screamed Mickey.

“Okay okay okay!” the blue turtle held up its hands. “Who are you and what are you doing in our pipes?”

“I’m trying to find Evil Emerald!” Mickey said, pulling himself up. “My brother in crime has been badly hurt, and we need help escaping Big Mama’s Battle Nexus!”

The blue turtle sighed. “I knew we should’ve shut that thing down, but Donnie’s got such a soft spot for adults who compliment his genius.”

The orange turtle cocked his head. “Evil Emerald? But we don’t have a turtle named Evil. Or Emerald!”

A turtle dressed in purple popped his head out of a ceiling vent. “Why are we discussing Raph’s villainous alter ego?”

“We need his help! My brother in crime is hurt!”

“RAPH’S INJURED BROTHER SENSES ARE TINGLING!”

A huge red-clad turtle punched his way through the nearest wall.

The blue turtle groaned. “Guys, we just moved into this lair, can we not destroy city infrastructure when it directly affects us?”

Mickey’s face brightened. “Evil Emerald!”

The big turtle scowled. “Oh. Evil Mikey. What do you want?”

“It’s Loathsome Leonard! We haven’t been stealing as much because we’ve been running a dog fighter racket –”

“What,” Mikey said flatly. Suddenly he was somehow much bigger and literally glowing with rage. “You run a dog fighting racket?”

“No-no-no, a dog fighter racket! We take people who make dogs fight, steal their dogs, then put the owners in cage matches to fight each other instead. The racket pays for the dogs’ food and vet bills! We’ve rehabilitated several aggression cases and given them super-cute haircuts!”

The red turtle grimaced. “Raph’s sense of justice is conflicted.”

“Mine isn’t,” the orange turtle said, smiling serenely.

The blue turtle shook his head. “Why does something sound so evil but feel so right?”

The purple turtle extended a metal arm to pat the blue one’s head. “Because morality and legality are not the same thing.”

Evil Emerald’s face set in a determined scowl. “We can’t let those poor doggies go hungry! We gotta help the Mud Dogs!”

“Great! Follow me!” Mickey dove back into the sewer.

Unfortunately, Evil Emerald wouldn’t fit through the pipe, so Mickey followed them to the surface to take a portal back to the hidden city. He kept looking around as they walked. The Human City was so big! And colorful! And way less mystical! He learned all the turtle names. It was so weird that Emerald was calling himself ‘Raph,’ but another alias just showed he was a real bona fide criminal. Definitely trustworthy in Mickey’s book!

Finally, they reached the outer wall of the Battle Nexus.

“How are we gonna get in?” Mickey despaired. “She has guards everywhere, and I don’t see another sewer grate.”

“Oh ye of little mystics,” Leo said smugly, and slashed his sword. A glowing blue portal appeared in the air. It led straight into the Mud Dogs cell. Leonard was still laying on the floor, wheezing harshly. Chaos was curled up next to him, yipping anxiously and turning herself inside-outside-inside-outside. Danny had Leonard’s head pillowed in his lap.

“We’re closer than brothers in crime,” Danny blubbered. “We’re – we’re twins in crime!”

Leonard quirked a grin. “I’m older,” he said, and coughed.

“OMIGOSH!” Mickey and Mikey yelled, and dove through together.

“You guys are so close!” Mikey bawled, tears in his eyes.

“I knew you’d make up eventually!” Mickey cried.

“Doctor Leo in the house!” Leonard announced. “Followed by his own and much cooler twin Donnie! And Raph.”

Danny looked up. “Hey, Evil Emerald! Long time no see!”

Raph grunted. “Danny. Leonard. Where’s Heinous Hank?”

Danny looked around, confused. “Hey. He was JUST here. Chaos, did you see where he went?”

Chaos yipped and pointed to a very large hole in the righthand wall.

Donnie stared at the Mud Dogs, then turned to his brothers. “Gentlemen, I apologize for any and all aspersions cast upon your intelligence.”

Danny scowled at him. “’Eeeey, I understood most’a that! I’ve had my hands full, Mr. Fancy College Degree!”

“Scoff! College is for those who wish to clay in the hands of greedy capitalist corporations!”

Leonardo knelt next to Leonard, stethoscope out and ready. “Ignore him, he plans to attend all the Ivy Leagues simultaneously when he hits 18. Okay, I’ve gotta listen to you breathe for a sec. Inhale, aaaand exhale. One more time?”

“What’s the diagonal, doc?” Mickey asked anxiously.

“He means Diagon Alley,” Mikey corrected.

“I hate all of you,” Donnie muttered.

“About six broken ribs and a nasty concussion. You’re gonna want to be totally lazy for like, six months, minimum.”

“But we still need to find Hank!” Leonard cried.

“Uh, guys?” Raph gestured to the bars across the cell. The squid was waving for their attention. It made a series of odd squiggles with its tentacles.

“Big Mama wants to see us?” Mickey asked.

Mikey looked back and forth. “How’d you guess?”

“Oh, I’m real good at charades!” the eel said proudly.

Raph’s face lit up. “You ARE?!”

“Oh, sure! Hank doesn’t talk much, so we gotta be good! Chewing a brick is his way of saying ‘I love you!’”

“Or ‘I’m hungry,’” Leonard added. “Depends on context.”

Leonardo stood up. “Alright, guys, let’s go see Big Mama.”

The squid burbled at them and blew a series of bubbles. They were grouped together in twos, Mikey with Mickey, Leonard with Leonardo, Donny with Danny, Raph with Chaos. The squid toted them through the dungeons, the servant’s quarters, the vendor guest rooms, the guest rooms, and up to Big Mama’s personal office. The doors were opened by an owl and fox youkai pair. Big Mama sat at her desk in human form, smiling primly. The bubbles popped once they floated inside. Leonardo tried to catch Loathesome Leonard, but he still grunted in agony when his ribs shifted.

Big Mama clicked her tongue. “That’s a nasty wickle bruise, Loathesome! But I have some exciting news. You are all free to go!”

Raph raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

“What about Hank?” Mickey demanded.

“What about him, dear?” Big Mama simpered. “I said you are all free to go. Hank, on the other hand…”

She gestured. Hank stepped out from the shadows, looking vaguely nervous. It was not a look Hank’s face was used to making. Big Mama held up a new contract and smiled with all her teeth.

“Hank is my new assistant.”

Part 2

@sariphantom

[giggly-squiggily]

Bunk Wars (Fire Force)

Heyo! It's my birthday (Nov.13)! *celebratory dance* I have a little tradition I do (mostly) every year here where I write something completely self indulgent to celebrate. This year...hasn't been fun, but today's gonna be a good day regardless! I hope y'all are having a good day today as well!

This year I bring you Fire Force! I've been rewatching it lately and just- I miss my blonde Knight King lols. Shinra and Arthur are a hoot, so I wanted to write for them again! I hope you like it :3

Summary: Shinra and Arthur fight over the top bunk every night cause OF COURSE they do.

Ever since Arthur came to Company 8; bedtime is no longer just that.

“I call top bunk!”

It’s war.

“The hell you are!” Shinra picked up his pace as he ran towards their room, neck and neck with the supposed knight king. If he were to be honest with himself; it really didn’t matter who got the top. Shinra slept in both; he didn’t have much of a preference.

But Arthur? Arthur always called top bunk- saying “A knight king needs a throne to look upon his people.” Shinra could have been nice and just let him have it, but that was too easy.

He liked to make Arthur work for it.

“GAH! Move over!” Shinra yelped when he was squished into the doorframe, Arthur trying to shoulder his way past. They were cheek to cheek, arm to arm, two thrashing bodies writhing to push through like two fish going upstream. “I got here first!”

“Says the devil himself! I got here first!” Arthur growled back, a centimeter closer. Shinra pushed forward and-

“Whoa!” Both boys yelped when they squeezed in, falling on their faces in the most unceremonious fashion. Shinra rubbed his face with a low groan as Arthur puffed his bangs up and away. “You good, knight king? No broken bones?”

“A devil worried for his opponent? A rare one you are.” Arthur sat up, rolling his neck. “I am unhurt- yourself?”

“I’ve been worse.” Shinra nodded. They sat like that for a second.

Then- “The top bunk is mine!” Arthur darted for the ladder, Shinra right beside him. “Back devil! I touched it first!”

“You son of a- that’s not how this works!” Shinra pulled at his shirt as Arthur tried to climb, keeping him within reach. “What kind of knight would you be if you didn’t duel for it properly?”

“Knight king! And….I suppose you’re right.” Arthur paused to consider. Shinra took his chance.

“Tricked ya!” Shinra pulled again, hoping the force of his yank would send Arthur flying off. But no- this son of a biscuit gripped tighter in preparation!

“Good try, Devil; but once a Knight King such as myself sees your tricks, he prepares!” Smug as ever, Arthur tsked as he reached for the next leg up the ladder, preparing to climb. “Good effort though.”

“Oh, so you think you seen all my tricks, huh?” Shinra kept one hand on his shirt while the other wormed towards his exposed ribs. “Did you forget about this one?”

“Please- what are you-EHEHE!” Arthur all but squeaked, ten fingers pressing into both sides of his ribcage at the same time. “Aehahhahahaha! No! Nohohoho faiahhahair! Dehehhevil!”

“That’s right- I AM a devil! And I’m gonna use all the dirty tricks in the book to reclaim MY throne!” Shinra snickered behind him as he carried on scribbling into his ribs, watching Athur crumble before him. “Come on, be a good knight and hand it over.”

“Knihihihihihight Kihihiihihing! Gehehehhet it rigihihih-Ehehehhahahhaha Shihihiihnra!” Those dastardly hands moved up to his upper ribs! One move more and he’d be getting the armpit ticking of a lifetime! “Stahhahap thahahaht! Doohohohohn’t tihiihhickle mehehehhehe!”

“Give me the top bunk then!” Shinra demanded. Arthur tried swatting him away with one hand, the other hanging on to the ladder. With another tug, he had the blonde on his feet once more. A second tug took him to the floor, Shinra straddling his waist as he carried on tickling that awful spot. “Make this easy for yourself, Arthur.”

“Nehehehehhehver! Aheahhahahhaha! This is nohoohohohohothing!” The blonde declared, shooting his hands out and grabbing Shinra’s sides. “Tahhahahke that!” He cried as Shinra spasmed and hooted.

“Oooohhoh no! You’re not doing tha-ahehahahhat! Stahahp NO!” Shinra tried to keep tickling, but Arthur was determined! With what little strength he had left, he pushed Shinra off of him with tickling fingers, pinching along his waist and lower ribs the way he knew would kill the other boy. “Ahahhhahahahrthuhuhuhuhur!”

“Oh, what’s wrong? What happened to your chanting, Devil? Don’t you WANT the top bunk?” Arthur teased, changing up his tickle style as he began kneading small circles into Shinra’s hips, making him kick and squeal. “Do you submit?”

“NEheehehehhehehhever! Aheahhhahahha I stihihihiihll gohohohot my oohohohohohoohown trihihihiihhicks!” Shinra reached out, going for the kill.

“EHEHE!” Arthur all but shrieked when his belly was jabbed, sending him falling back. Shinra quickly pounced, shoving Arthur’s shirt up with one hand. “NO! No don’t you dare, Devil! Don’t you dare-”

“I’m a devil-hero, thank you!” Shinra smirked before diving down, blowing a massive raspberry into Arthur’s belly. The blonde shrieked, arching beneath him before bursting into loud cackly laughter. “Do YOU submit, Knight king?”

“AHEHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHOHOHOOHO NOT THAHAHAHAHHT! AHEHHEHEHE DON’T BITE!” Arthur howled when Shinra mock-bit him, using the points of his teeth for maximum tickles. “AHEHAHAHHA OKAHAHAHKY OHHAHAKY TAKE THE BUNK! THAHHAKE THE BUNK!”

“Hm? You mean it?” Shinra smirked as he resurfaced, prodding along Arthur’s sides to keep him giggling. “Are you gonna give me the top bunk?”

“Yehahhahhahs! Yes, tahahhahake it! Ahehahahhahaa!” Arthur nodded frantically, easing as the tickles finally came to an end. “Yohohohou suck!”

“Not very chivalrous of you.” Shinra teased, laughing even harder when Arthur flicked him a rude gesture. “Man- I’m so glad we’re roommates!”

“You are?” Arthur seemed surprised by that, sitting up as Shinra got cozy in his reclaimed nest. “I thought you hated me?”

“When did I say I hated you?” Shinra blinked, equally surprised. “Sure, you can be a real pain in the ass, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I’m glad we’re bunk mates.”

Arthur sat there, really taking it in. Then he hid in his bangs, smile wobbly.

“Of course- it’s annoying how loud you snore.” Shinra added, earning a shocked laugh from the other. “And let’s not even get started on how bad you smell when you fa-”

“SHUT UP!” Arthur threw his pillow at him, smacking Shinra dead in the face. Their original battle carried on- pillows flying and laughs bouncing off walls until Hinawa yelled “SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP” from down the hall.

Later that night, Shinra dared a peek over the edge of the bed, finding Arthur awake and staring up at the bed above him. “Hey…do you want the top bunk? I don’t mind trading.”

“Hm…nah. I like it down here.” Arthur snuggled further in his sheets, comfy. “We’ll see about tomorrow though.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” Shinra nodded, disappearing in his bed once more- a smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Knight King.”

“Goodnight, Devil hero.”

Thanks for reading!

[bonefall]

Could you tell us some more about your Lizardstripe? It always annoyed me that the only cat in canon to point out double standards regarding kits was also the horrible mother that they blamed for all of Brokenstar’s issues. I’m glad she’s portrayed more sympathetically here though, with her friend group and role as Bluestar’s lawyer.

Anything out of BB!ShadowClan takes like, a Star Wars opening scroll of text to explain to an outsider and that's how I LIKE IT

It's my personal mission to inject nuance chemical into every woman demonized by Canon WC. Brokenstar isn't bad because he had a sad childhood or something, it was literally generations of culture turning toxic and demanding a cosmic reckoning from which he was born, moulded by, and ultimately embodied of his own free will.

Evil Women Who Weren't Good Mothers aren't responsible for his actions

Anyway, Lizardstripe.

She is gonna get her own summary at some point (I kinda want to do a ShadowClan Month at some point for the biggest ShC characters, like Nightstar, Russetfur, Stumptail, etc), but here's shards for now;

She's related to old Finchflight in some way. The timeline is getting reduxed and Finch is VERY dead by the time of TPB.

So she's either a child of his, or a niece. Finch is Yellowfang’s age (mid teens in TPB), Lizard is Bluestar's (10-ish)

She was a young mom, less than 2, she met the Forget-me-nots after she was already pregnant.

She wasn't actually raising Brokenstar, just suckling him. Ragged was doing that.

Lizard was still not a great mom. She didn't enjoy it at all, and was often getting bored and frustrated

She would often bring the kittens out into the woods on training exercises, activities they were TOO young for.

Runningkit, Deerkit, and Tanglekit were always covered in dings, bumps, ticks, and things that kept putting them in Yellowfang’s den as a result. Lizard was talked to more than once for this

When Brokenkit joined in on this, mysteriously, he was NEVER covered in dings. Like he was developing faster and was more agile than the others. Deerkit was jealous, Tanglekit thought it was AWESOME

Runningkit was developing a bit of a bully streak, realizing that he could exploit this by getting his sibs mad at him, and then hiding behind Broken

Lizard was always being forced to step in and take control of the situations by trying to break up the Dastardly Duo, but then would be OVERRULED by Raggedstar, who wanted his son to hang out with his friend

If Yellowfang didn't notice it herself, she would definitely learn through Lizard that these two should NOT be allowed to multiply their terror with power

But, that's more about them than Lizard.

She's a lot more than just someone's mom. She's a friend of Bluestar's, and the ShadowClan representative in the Forget-me-nots!

WOW her ShadowClan sense of humor is sharp. She can be VICIOUS

She often finds herself having to smooth her jokes over after making a comment that's too mean. What's just part of ShadowClan humor can be cutting to cats in other Clans

Oakheart is actually the one cat who never seems to get hurt, "i like your funny words lizardman"

She likes teasing Bluefur, she's just so easily flustered! And she cares so much about other people,

"Stars, you make me want to yack up a hairball, Bloof."

When Bluefur earns the name Bluemoon (unsure how yet) Lizardstripe b'awws that her nickname is going to be too cool now.

(In Clanmew, it's Luparfaf, Luf, vs Luparshom, Lum)

Lizardstripe and Barley Senior are the two smartest members of the group. Barley is all about logistics, schemas, building and working out plans for meeting up and not getting caught.

Lizardstripe knows what's going on in people's heads. She can be a manipulative mastermind, when she REALLY wants something.

I think she gave Blue and Hoprunner a lot of good advice on how to achieve their ambitions, but, she wasn't really interested in that extra responsibility herself

"What and have to deal with Raggedstar's wishy washy ass and his angelic brat more than i already do? I'd rather kiss a thistle."

What Lizi really liked in her life was the pleasure of it all. Sneaking around, teasing Bluefur, helping out Barley, wrestling Hoprunner. Playing games with her Clanmates, staying late at Gatherings.

She loves her freedom, the ability to decide where to spend her time

She was the first of the Forget-me-nots to die, a year or two after Bluestar took power, in a ferocious battle with WindClan.

Current draft: Talltail's son, Flytail, killed her violently in Heatherstar's Last Stand, the decisive battle that truly "ended" the Mothermouth Moorland War.

After that battle, ShadowClan lost a strategic area and could never regain their foothold. Raggedstar tried to surrender the next year, which was when Brokentail killed him.

Lizardstripe and Mudfoot being lost in the same year was one of the things he and Runningnose cited to each other as "reasons why" WindClan had to pay

If they died for nothing, if SO many had just fought in a war they lost... then it was all for nothing.

Warriors don't accept peace deals.

They fight, they fight to the last cat standing.

I think the news hit all of the Forget-me-nots hard. They hadn't met up in a while, their ambitions driving them apart over time, but... that didn't make it less difficult. No one thought she would be the first.

I think she's my favorite of the little friend group tbh, I'm fond of the Angel Lawyer Friend.

[raedroid]

Never Too Young To Die

Prologue: Ragnar’s Renegades

Ok I’m doing this now because a lot of my kiss discord friends want this and I have been obsessed with this movie lately so I might do this for a while. Hopefully you all will enjoy this continuation/rewrite of Never Too Young To Die

Also in my rewrite, I don’t really know what pronouns Velvet used so I’m gonna make them go by all pronouns. I feel like it suits them

——————————————————————————

Night is usually a peaceful time. The lights are down, everyone is asleep and dreaming away. But not here in California. The night is still young and the city is still alive and of course, the rebels are on the rise. Fort MacArthur, once a large military base, is where the devoted renegades of the city are running wild. They all devote themselves to a powerful mastermind. They are flamboyant and fierce but merciless and devilish and looked down at her rebels sitting in a pit down below of their secret camp. She smirked and looked, revelling in the praise of her followers as they chanted her name, a dastardly plan in her eyes

“My little slugs, how are we tonight?” He shouted, receiving shouts of praise once again. “Very good. Let me think, we’ve got access to their computers, how to channel radioactive waste and all of it will go from Diablo Canyon into those unfortunate souls drinking water. We’ve got everything we need to set our plan into motion!” She declared proudly. Her followers cried out in joy over their victory

“However, there is a slight glitch. Someone had stolen our little disk. The last piece of the puzzle.” She stated gloomily and the others below her groaned in disbelief and anger, ranting to one another and were ready to destroy something nearby in rage.

“Velvet! I’ve got something for you!” A voice called out, gaining everyone’s attention “Bring her in!” She ordered some of her crew members, carrying a woman down the path. Velvet looked down to see a slender woman with black hair and cold gray eyes and gave her a smirk. This was Rayla, Velvets right hand lady and the most dangerous of her renegades. Well, except for herself of course.

“Rayla! Well done darling!” Velvet thanked, jumping down to join her and they looked at their prisoner. The poor woman has been chosen as the perfect source of the culprit. They lowered her into the pit and she looked at Ragnar in horror.

“Now tell me, who did it?” She ordered and the woman looked on in fear, but she stood her ground.

“I’ll never tell you! You can’t get me to talk!” She whimpered and Rayla dropped down and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.

“We can! Do not dare test him!” She shouted to her face. As she held her up close to her face, Rayla noticed something dangling off of her ear. A circular emblem with a star pattern engraved in the token. Velvet took a notice as well and ripped it off her ear, receiving a shriek of pain from their prisoner.

“Stargrove huh? What’s her name?” She asked.

“Some bitchy name like Lily Jones? I don’t know, doesn’t matter right?” Rayla replied

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” He answered. The other followers smirked with satisfaction and Lily was shaking in fear, hoping she would be spared.

“Please don’t kill me! I promise I’ll do anything for you! But please leave me alone!” She cried in desperation. Velvet leaned down and caressed her cheek

“Listen darling. Be careful with who you trust because in this place, chances have to be earned.” She whispered gently, revealing her long fingernail and stabbed her prisoner with no hesitation. As her prisoner fell to ground, slowly losing consciousness and passing away, the others cheered for their mighty leader.

“Now everyone, change of plan. Get me Stargrove! I want Stargrove!” She announced angrily. Everyone scrambled together and started to run around in a frenzy while Velvet took the emblem and strutted off. Now it was time for the biggest fight of the decade.

——————————————————————————

Velvet inspected the emblem stolen from her disappointing prisoner, checking every detail possible. Something about the pendent enrages her, hidden deep inside she is disturbed by it, something she never shared with anyone. Except for her.

“Everything alright?” Velvet looked up and saw Rayla, standing by the doorway of their master bedroom.

“With you here, everything is perfect.” Velvet purred, throwing the pendent behind him and getting up to take his partners hand. “Great job out there darling. Like always.” He complimented, kissing the hand of his most loyal partner

“Sorry the prisoner was disappointing again. These bastards can be so rude.” Rayla apologized but Velvet raised a hand to stop her

“You weren’t the problem my love. They had their chance and they didn’t take it so they brought it upon themselves.” Velvet explained, lying down on the couples large red bed. “Aside from dealing with that lunatic, how was your day?”

“Well not the greatest. I was talking to Pyramid and found out that Stargrove’s Faction has slaughtered about 8 of our crew. I tried to get them but they left in the nick of time.” She replied and Velvet spotted a bleeding area on Rayla’s arm.

“Come here. Your arm is bleeding. We can’t have that.” Rayla sat down and Velvet quickly but safely pulled off her long dark trench coat and started tending to his lovers wound.

“Again, sorry for wasting too much time on that issue. I was being careless again.”

“You don’t have to apologize about that babe. I just wished someone told me sooner. That way I would’ve been there to protect you.”

“You’ve done it before countless times. I just want to return the favour.”

“Darling, you already know that you are more than worthy of me and my love. You don’t need to hurt yourself to prove it.” Velvet took her hands and kissed each one of them delicately and Rayla smiled hard.

“You know for a criminal, you’re quite a charmer.”

“Everyone’s got their talents.” She smiled back and Rayla threw her jacket to the floor.

“Speaking of talents, the finger always amazes me. Where did you come up with that idea?” She asked, tugging off her boots

“I’m just that good I guess. I come up with some wacky things from time to time. But trust me, I’ll use it again in order to make Stargrove pay.” She swore and gripped the blankets of the bed, anger returning again

“Why does he keep coming back and getting us all killed? Doesn’t he have anything better to do with his time?” Rayla asked annoyed

“He and I have been… acquainted before. But I put the past behind me unlike him. But he’s not very bright. I know he’s gonna come and get us at our base but we’ll be ready for him.” Velvet explained, smirking once more

“How do you know that?”

“Riley knew a guy from his little faction and so he gets a lot out of him, even if he has to do some convincing. Riley surprises me with that kind of stuff.” He admitted and goes over to Rayla, hanging up her coat

“That’s wild. But then, you come up with the best schemes around here.” Rayla admitted, smirking as Velvet wrapped their arms around her. “Seriously, you blow me away.”

“And you will be the best killer for the job!” Velvet responded and they plopped back on their bed, laughing and enjoying themselves. “And side note, I’ve got a show coming up. April 21 and I need a good opening act. You will be perfect on that stage my dearest.”

“I love these things about you. You love chaos and destruction but you still have a soft spot for me.” Rayla remarked and Velvet strokes her cheek.

“It’s true but my love for you is stronger than any explosive. Just know that you are the most precious thing I can ever love.” They smiled at each other and kissed passionately on the lips.

“You got it babe. Opening act on April 21, I’ll be there.” She answered

“Knew I could count on you. Now, how about a little bit of fun tonight. What do you say?” Velvet asked, gently pushing her down on the bed.

“I’d love to but I’m feeling tired after all the shit that happened today.” Rayla admitted and slowly pulled the blankets over herself.

“Fair enough. But don’t forget that you promised for fun the other night.” He teased and Rayla threw a pillow at him, causing the two of them to erupt in laughter. “Just rest up ok darling?” He leaned down and gently kissed her and Rayla played with his hair until they let go to breathe

“Goodnight Vel. Love you.” She said softly and blew them a kiss as they started to leave the room. “Will you be back soon?”

“Yes. Just need some air. Goodnight darling. I’m so lucky to have such a wonderful companion like you.” They whispered, blowing a kiss back at her before shutting the door. As they did, they immediately started to panic over the pendent, feeling a cold pressure on themself.

“He can do whatever he wants with me. But he’s not getting anywhere near my girl. I’ll make sure of it.” They muttered slowly levelling their breathing before opening the door to reunite with their lover, forging more plans to stop Stargrove