#is it a crime to be hot and fun and unwilling to work in Any capacity

[emptyjunior]

Jace is the perfect encapsulation of a sorcerer cause sometimes you just hang out and do nothing and then suddenly in a calamity of coincidences and homicides you have the most powerful position in the school.

As a sorcerer player myself, stop accusing him! Is it really a crime to never read or study or try and then just be gifted ultimate power for No reason, like chill out about it

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!” 

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel. 

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor. 

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?” 

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved. 

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic. 

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.” 

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.” 

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in. 

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.” 

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.” 

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.” 

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.” 

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other. 

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile. 

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.” 

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.” 

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.” 

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw. 

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.” 

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look. 

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out. 

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider, 

“...My parent’s divorce,” 

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time. 

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding. 

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more. 

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.” 

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand. 

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway. 

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel— 

–Who had the most distressed look on her face? 

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe. 

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…” 

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you. 

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–” 

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma? 

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…” 

“I’m going through a divorce.” 

Everyone turned to Mr. G. 

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.” 

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.” 

“What was that?” Hazel asked. 

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.” 

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’” 

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.” 

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.” 

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?” 

“I don’t, but I could see her–” 

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel. 

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her. 

“Hazel.” 

Hazel gulped in response. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–” 

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.” 

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look. 

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school. 

“Right now?” 

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.” 

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag. 

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?” 

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ. 

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!” 

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up. 

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.” 

“Things?” 

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”  

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked. 

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said. 

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” 

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches. 

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.” 

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day. 

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect. 

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time. 

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face. 

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing. 

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats. 

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious. 

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework. 

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?” 

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.” 

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you. 

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.” 

Hazel softened at your words. 

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.” 

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.” 

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her. 

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.” 

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. 

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction. 

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say. 

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—” 

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. 

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused. 

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.” 

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.” 

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.  

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath. 

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way. 

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy. 

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?” 

Hazel blinked.

“What?” 

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work. 

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.” 

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. 

I kind of do. 

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity. 

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath. 

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down. 

For a moment, you thought she would stay. 

But Hazel pulled away from you.. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.” 

And after a regretful look, she was gone. 

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!” 

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict— 

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this? 

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene. 

But Hazel was just a girl. 

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

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(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

[sinner-xiao]

If it’s a hit you’re looking for, tough luck. I’m retired. 🐶

Xiǎo Xīn (小心) is a dog-based Sinner who was a gang member during her life on Earth. In her afterlife, she keeps mostly to herself, wanting nothing to do with the violence and crime that landed her in Hell. This has become increasingly difficult as members of her old gang have finally shown up in Hell and are unwilling to let bygones be bygones.

She has been employed by @claws-for-hire.

Read more about her here!

Mod: @joyerisjoy

RPs

Arc One

Getting hired

Running into @official-alastor

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[intheseautumnhands]

!!

- @nsfwitchy

!!

( for each !! I'll introduce you to an OC )

So let me tell you about Nate, angry mess and accidental protector.

Nate did not have a very fun childhood! His family had very specific ideas about what a man should be, and Nate only measured up in all the wrong ways. He was explosively angry, which would be fine if he just had a little more control over it; instead, he kept directing it in the wrong direction, usually in defense of people his family did not understand his wanting to defend, and getting in trouble and pissing off family. He liked art. He liked to cook. (He liked to sing, which would have been acceptable on its own if his other hobbies were okay.) He was the runt of the family, and even if he won half the scraps he got in, he still managed to do it wrong, somehow.

Realizing he was bisexual and that his family would probably quite literally try to beat it out of him if he ever came out just seemed like the inevitable cherry on top by the time it happened, really.

So he's already in a shitty place, feeling like he's never good enough and dealing with rage issues, when he finally goes off to college and gets the hell away from home. Things might have eventually, slowly, started to look up for him after that if he had a little longer before he met Katherine.

Nate was 19; Kat was a few years older, and a thief. She genuinely liked Nate, which is probably worse than if she'd been purposefully fucking with him, and he was head over heels for her. It wasn't that long into the relationship that she ended up needing help, and Nate didn't even need to be asked before he volunteered.

Somewhere along the way he ended up... kind of permanently helping her out, and usually by taking care of anything with the potential to get violent. Turns out, not only could he win a whole lot of scraps with his fist, but he was damn good with a gun, too. It's probably the first time anyone ever encouraged him with something he felt like he was good for. This is totally healthy for him in every possible way, it said, lying through its teeth.

Eventually Kat ends it. Nate drinks himself into a stupor at a friend's bar while Billy, whose known Kat a lot longer and been quietly encouraging both of them to end it whenver he can because he can see she is fucking this kid up, tries to see him through it. The bar is... kind of a criminal hot spot, because Billy's mom was in that. 'line of work', for lack of a better term, and sometimes these things just happen.

("Dear, do you know anything about crime at all?" you might say dubiously at this point. "Shhh, it's fiction, and the original version of this involved supernatural shit so it didn't need to be realistic," I reply, which is a long-winded way of saying no.)

Anyway, long story short (too late), guess who eventually makes his living out of killing people for hire while his only friend despairs in the background?

Yeah, Nate's a healthy boy. By the time Kat leaves him, he's somewhere in his early twenties, extremely self-loathing, depressed and definitely not admitting it, and basically a little ball of spiky armor to everyone but the very, very small number who manage to break through it and become His People. The depression and self-loathing just keep getting worse cause he's unwilling to do anything about it and shutting the world out, and he's pretty much passively suicidal, which works for him cause his job has a pretty high likelihood of killing him if he just waits!

Most of Nate's verses start around early-mid twenties, because if something doesn't happen to him, he's not gonna make it to thirty.

In his original world, he broke his leg on a job, rented a room while recouping, and ended up tripping and falling into a D/s thing with his roommate, who had his own host of abuse. That character was my ex's, which is why it's no longer really Nate's main story, but it really illustrates the thing that would be necessary for any other world: he does much, much better when he finds someone he feels needs him. He'll start to take care of himself and try to stay alive in order to make sure someone's there to take care of them. It's really the only thing that makes him do it, after a certain point. (Billy, his bar-owner only friend, can try, and it'll help to a point, but... Billy doesn't need him. They love each other in their own weird way, but it doesn't spark that same reaction.)

And honestly? He's pretty good for people once he decides they're his. He takes care of them. He's also... a little bit possessive, but it tends to come out in the form of "must keep them safe" more than anything else, so it could be worse. He actively tries not to be a walking open wound and lash out at people when he's trying to take care of them. He's more patient than he thinks with them. He's sweet.

He does not think of himself as any of these things, even as he's actively caretaking and protecting people. As far as Nate's concerned, he's an asshole and a pretty terrible person, and he only does this if he feels like encouraging someone to leave will lead to them getting in a worse situation. Otherwise, if he found himself attaching to someone who wasn't in a place where they had nothing, he'd probably try to detach himself because he's going to fuck them up.

He's also smarter than he gives himself credit for in a lot of ways -- he's quick on his feet, he understands things pretty well, he's good at reading people. But he's not, I guess, clever is the best word I can think of to illustrate it, and he gets easily frustrated and flustered when he feels like he's around people who are smarter than him and are lording it over him or rubbing it in. (That second part is key: being smart is fine, whatever, it's the using it to put him down that fucks him up. Part of this comes from family, but part of this is very squarely Kat's fault. She had a very "you're cute, let me do the thinking" attitude towards him that rubbed him the wrong way and he loved her too much to ever say anything, and now anything that comes remotely close to it sends him shutting down.)

There are also a handful of verses where magic/supernatural shit is going on around him! That's a lot of fun, because he's almost always the only mundane person getting dragged into the shenanigans, and it's terrible entertaining. :D

I do not have art because I do not art, but I do PB, because that's just the way I started doing things, blame LJ around the time I started making OCs regularly. XD So Nate is kind of this, but scrawnier. (Bonus link to his PB singing Creep because it cracks me up.)

[folkloreguk]

🍒Cherry Ice Cream (2)🍒

A/N: Part two is here! There won't be another one after this. I just wanted to split it into two little scenarios with one being cute and the other not so cute lmao...I hope you enjoy - as always I appreciate feedback a lot!

taglist: @lovely-ateez

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), lifeguard!au, pool sex, unprotected sex

words: 3.4 k

PART 1 (fluff, both parts can be read independently)

It was the middle of the summer holidays and you had never been happier. Sunny weather, swimming, lots of free time and as much ice cream as you wanted were only a few of the reasons for your luck. The main cause was the boy of your dreams. A few weeks ago, you had met. It had been the most chaotic, embarrassing day at the public swimming pool – or so you had initially thought. Turns out being a walking disaster could not only attract negative attention. When the otherworldly handsome and kind lifeguard had pulled your clumsy figure out of the water and even bought you ice cream to make you feel better, you had a feeling things were about to change. And you hadn’t been wrong. Maybe you were seeing things through rose-colored glasses and a mix of lovestruck hormones, but you suspected he might just really be this great.

Ever since your first ice cream date, the two of you had been inseparable. Looks were one thing – and you had made yourself aware that though he was a picture of perfection, he could still have turned out to not be your type at all. But the inside reflected on his outside. Every day you found out a new enrapturing detail about him. He was a never-ending book that you were utterly unwilling to put back down.

Your days were spent at the public swimming pool, watching your lifeguard boyfriend do his job and questioning if this was all some sort of hidden camera prank. During his break he came running straight to your spot under the trees and plopped down on your towel, ready to spend the most time with you until he had to go back. Although your streak of bad luck was over, he still took care of you and made sure you were okay in the heat. He reminded you to drink enough water and sent you a good morning text every day. When he had first asked you to help him put sunscreen on his shoulders, you had hesitated with cheeks hotter than the sunlight that day. Now it was a daily thing, and sometimes when his hands were on your back, rubbing in the lotion, you caught yourself wishing there weren’t a hundred families around you. But it was hard scoring alone time with him at the pool. Even later at night, right before closing time, there were always one or two diehard swimming fans there.

“I love watching my cute girlfriend swim,” he would keep telling you.

“You better make sure you’re paying attention to the rest of the visitors, too,” you would reply, but secretly love his flirty remarks. Perhaps he wasn’t even so far off. After your first encounter, it was apparent that maybe you were the one guest who didneed the closest monitoring. Even his co-workers knew of you. They had made it their life mission to remind him daily how whipped he was for you, but he never cared about their teasing.

At night, you rode your bikes home. Towards the candy cotton clouds on the horizon, through the small suburb, you rode side by side, still damp hair flowing in the wind. Outside your home he cupped your face then, the sun kissed skin of his hands still warm to the touch. Like he was the slowly setting sun himself, he kissed you goodnight. You were addicted to his lips. He made you fly, brought back all your fondest memories as if he himself was in them, and let you forget every worry you’ve ever had in the world.

One evening at the pool, you lay on your bathmat, headphones in your ears and your favorite summer playlist taking you to another world. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the shoulders. You jerked up in surprise.

“Oh my god, we could have hit our heads together!” you scolded your boyfriend, who was smiling at you like an innocent five-year old.

“Guess what. My boss just told me that I can close the place up tonight. You know what that means, right?” he said.

“Tell me more,” you smirked.

“Technically, we can stay here however long we want. And do whatever we want. As long as no one finds out,” he whispered the last part into your ear. Chills ran up your spine despite the heat in the air.

“Do whatever we want, huh?” you said. “I thought you were being a model employee?”

“I am,” he shrugged with his child-like smile. “And the model employee needs to go back to work now. I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”

“Of course,” you nodded, watching his figure as he jogged back to his seat by the pool. The next hours seemed to go by extra-slowly, to your dismay. After his announcement, you only found yourself staring in his direction more than on any other day. Truly, you could never get used to his handsomeness. You thought of his voice that made you melt like ice and his hands when he kissed you. Too often they remained in innocent, safe territory. Maybe that was about to change. It was a Friday, meaning the opening hours were longer than usual. By 10 pm however, even the last person had left. The public swimming pool was closed. Officially.

You had to admit, you could get used to having an enormous swimming pool all to yourself. Blissfully, you dived through the water, not having to worry about crashing into anybody’s legs or losing track of your surroundings. You had always felt as though swimming was a little like flying. Not that you knew what flying would be like. But if you had to make a guess, feeling weightless and small in a seemingly endless space probably came close. All your life, it had remained the same. Playing pretend in the water, acting like a mermaid scavenging for the most precious treasure of the seven seas – all your loveliest ideas lingered in your memory like it had been yesterday.

The pool had a shallow end, about the depth which allowed your head to reach above the surface, and progressively deepened towards the other end. You took a gulp of air and descended into the darkness. Taking long strokes, you dived towards the white light at the wall of the shallower pool end. With the brightness ahead of you, you failed to notice the shadow behind you.

As you were in the process of coming up from the water, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you. For the second time that day, you jolted in surprise and quickly gasped for air.

“You scared me out of my wits! Will you stop that!” you said, but you were already smiling. It was hard to carry grudges against the boy behind you. Not when he held your waist and rested his chin on your bare shoulder, grinning as if it was a crime to even suspect him of such things.

“Hi, there,” he said and pecked your cheek sweetly. “I missed you.”

“So did I,” you admitted. Only months ago, you had made fun of how lovestruck your friend had been. You weren’t one to speak now. His hands let go of you while you turned your body to face him. Then they were on you again, and although it was a small touch, your lack of clothes created a tension between you right away.

“Wanna race me?” he whispered into your ear, as if there was anyone around to listen in. Was he serious? Did he really think you wanted him to let go of you now? His voice on your neck rendered you wanting him so bad, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself.

“I’ve been swimming all day,” you said. “Besides, didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted? We can swim whenever we want, during opening hours.”

“Oh, sounds like you have better plans?” he asked. For a moment, he touched your forehead with his. If you bent forward slightly, you could have kissed him. His hungry eyes were on your lips when you had finished the thought.

“I was thinking you could kiss me, for starters?” you coaxed him. He chuckled.

“So you’ve been thinking about it too, the past few hours,” he realized. “You know, I was trying to be subtle about it.”

“Forget about being subtle,” you said. “Let’s just make out, please?”

“I’d like nothing better than that,” he smiled, and then your mouths touched. His gentle lips tasted faintly of chlorine and salt, a taste you had come to associate with him and magnificent things. You held his face in your hands tightly and pushed your body against him yearningly. Reacting, he sighed and deepened the kiss. His wandering hands found the small of your backside as you arched your back into his frame. You hummed quietly, hands burying in his wet hair and playing with it at the nape of his neck.

All your childhood you had been searching for your treasure under the water. Now you understood. He was right there in front of you. Little you would be proud you had found someone this precious and incomparable. And hot.

“Jump,” he said. You did as he suggested and wrapped your legs around his waist. The proximity of his body made your heart hammer against your ribcage with such feverishness, you worried it might jump through your chest. With the way he touched every curve of your body, you almost forgot how to kiss. Luckily, your instincts did the job for you as you sipped on his lips and sighed every so often. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you felt his smirk when you moaned in surprise. Every inch of your skin burned with desire for him.

As he carried you over to the side of the pool, you pulled away shortly. You took the liberty to attack his neck with frenzied kisses. It felt just as you had imagined a thousand times. You couldn’t possibly recount all the instances when you had found yourself staring at his neck and shoulders in the past weeks. He was easily the biggest distraction you had ever known. But it wasn’t your fault his tanned skin was so inviting and his strong presence ever so alluring. Returning his teasing, you bit into his shoulder, kissing and sucking on it right after.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in a throaty tone. “You’re amazing.”

Softly, he rubbed his nose against yours before your lips locked again. The kiss was all but soft. Your tongues meddled as if you were starved people and you could barely keep your hands in one place. Not that you would want to. You wanted to glue his hands onto your body or better yet handcuff him to your wrists. What was the opposite of a restraining order called? You were about to invent a word for it. Never before had you been so intoxicated, so in ecstasy with another person.

He pulled aside the fabric of your top momentarily and cupped your breasts in his hands. You gasped and melted into his touch and the way he played with your nipples. He attacked your neck in kisses and you shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips.

“I really want you.” He had his hands on your ass and all you could think about was the growing bulge in his swimming shorts. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin fabric of your swim top doing little to nothing to separate your bodies. How could somebody’s whole existence be so titillating? He pulled away, just far enough to speak but barely. “I’ve wanted you like this for a while. But I didn’t want to unsettle you by making you think I just want sex from you. Truth is, I don’t want you to be just some summer romance, Y/N. Every day I hope you’ll still be here when summer is over.”

“Why would you think I’m going anywhere?” you asked. “You’re the reason I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I ask myself every day how I managed to end up with you in the first place.”

“That’s easy. First, threaten to demolish the turnstile with your stubbornness, second, offer your head to a bunch of kids with a water ball, third, square up against a bug in front of a hundred people, fourth- “

“Okay! Enough,” you said. “Don’t bring up my clumsiness. That’s just about the least sexy thing in the world.”

“Baby, I think there’s nothing not sexy about you,” he spoke. He kissed you deeply and all your embarrassing memories vanished at once. “So, you’re cool with this?”

His sudden change in tone caused your breath to hitch in your throat, as his hands lingered by your hips, just above your bikini bottom. You only nodded, the motion getting more eager as the words sunk in. He slid his fingers along the inside of your thigh, and you squirmed under his touch in desperation. Swiftly, he pushed aside the material above your center. His digits slid through your wetness, catching the nub between them, and rubbing ever so slowly. An overwhelmed gasp spilled over your lips, and you closed your eyelids.

“Fuck- ,“ you muttered under your breath. He teased your core, nearly sliding his finger into you, but then pulling away to find your nub to toy with.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. At his words, you looked at him through fluttering eyelids. He was one to talk about beauty. The luminescence from underwater sharpened his features, and his eyes had something magical, something enchanting about them. Like he could have you – or anyone – without saying a word. He reminded you of a merman, or rather a siren. Ready to drag you along with him, deep under the surface. And you were so willing to let it happen. For all you knew, you were long lost and under his spell anyway.

“Have you ever done it in public?” he asked. You were too distracted by his fingers on you at first, head hanging back in ecstasy, until you snapped out of it.

“No, but – fuck – I guess I can strike that one off my sex bucket list after tonight, can’t I?” you said.

“You have a sex bucket list? Interesting, tell me more about it,” he smirked. His eyes darkened and his tongue licked over his lips once. As if on command, his lazy ministrations on you quickened, rubbing your clit in small, circular motions until you were a moaning, stammering mess. You suspected he did so just to see your immediate reaction, and you gave him just what he wanted.

“Can we postpone the – the talking…on later?” you murmured, feeling like collapsing against his broad shoulders. “I’m kind of too busy to – to talk.”

“I can see that,” he teased you, kissing you gently. The delicacy of his lips only made your head spin more. “You’re so sweet, baby.”

“Don’t you want to get busy too?” you asked. You reached for his swimming trunks and wrapped your hand around his hard member through the material. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Shit- me too.” His arousal echoed in his moans, and he sucked in a breath. There was a sense of power in knowing you could make him react so gravely by doing so little. You tugged on his trunks and pulled them down a little to reveal his full length. Palming him, you felt how painfully hard he must have been for a while now. He groaned and it was the best thing you had ever heard. Eagerly, you slid your bikini bottom off and watched for a moment as it sunk down into the depths of the pool. Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he aligned his cock with your core.

At this point you supposed you were both out of words. Hunger had taken over and you barely managed to form a sentence. He kissed you and you hummed and nodded, wanting him to know you were ready. Easily, he entered you and you whimpered at the way he stretched your velvet walls after all the wait. Your senses were overcome with everything around you. The warm water enveloping the both of you, the soft summer breeze caressing your faces, his hands on your hips as he guided your body into his thrusts and the sound of your breathless moans and sighs – it was pure bliss. Night had almost fallen, with the sky being a deep blue, almost black by now. It was a perfect setting for a perfect night with your favorite person.

You gazed into his dilated pupils and the coil in your stomach tightened in the most delicious way possible. Now you recounted a myriad of dreams you’d seen him in. Not always, but occasionally he showed up in your dirtiest of dreams, with his gorgeous, addictive smile and strong arms. But now he was right there, in front of you – inside of you – and you apprehended how weak your boldest imaginations had been. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you clenched around his cock. He moaned your name huskily and it only clouded your head further.

It was crazy how loving a person could magnify everything. Even with closed eyes, the mere idea of him fucking you, at night in a public pool, could beat every single other experience you’d ever had. You felt like you were blessed with the audience with a god. A god, who had manifested on earth only to scoop you up and show you the finest things in life. You definitely couldn’t think of a finer thing than his cock dragging through your walls, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, while he had you cased against the pool tiles. Moans and little whimpers fell from your lips, and you were glad there wasn’t a single soul close by who could have heard.

He was jaw-dropping. With the way he pounded into you hard, using the poolside wall as support on your back, you felt your head spin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your skin seemed to prickle wherever he touched you and you pushed your chest against his. Just a little closer, you told yourself, even though you were running out of space already. It was body against body while he whispered naughty things into your ears, telling you how incredible you felt, how lucky he had gotten with you and how sexy he found you.

“You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had, baby,” he said. His teeth grazed your neck as he kissed your sensitive skin messily. You could have counted every single drop of water hanging from the strands of his hair and adorning his face. Could have taken notice of every single eyelash and even the tiniest speckles of color in his irises. But you could barely command your eyes to stay open.

“So- close,” you said. In your ecstasy, you clawed at his back as another wave of pleasure went through your entire body.

“Together, hm?” he said, lips brushing over your cheek with every thrust. You hummed and nodded, as he picked up his thrusts to a toe-curling speed. With every touch of your sweet spot, you felt reality slip away a little further, and you were doing nothing to fight it. You invited the feeling in, resting your forehead against his, breaths coming out in short puffs. And then it overcame you. Your orgasm jolted through you like electricity, and you clung to him as if you might have sunken otherwise. It made your shared moans high pitched, and he followed you, pulling you into his arms like it was alone you who was keeping him afloat.

The splashing of the water softened as he drew out your highs for as long as possible with slower thrusts. Eventually, he halted completely. He cradled your face in his hands and when you finally opened your tired eyes, he was watching you with full adoration. His charming smile caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. This was only the beginning of your time together, yet you could barely fathom your fortune. And as it seemed, this time fate was on your side.

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @winwiniee​ @dundun-baby @nakamotocore @hcwurld @alaeddis @recs-for-later @jaehyunssslut

wanna be added to my taglist? click here!

‎

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[takerfoxx]

What Your Favorite Puella Magi Madoka Magica Ship Says About You

Inspired by DoubleCa5t's series, and since we're probably going to get an official video sooner or later, I'm putting my version out while I can.

Also, this is all in good fun, so don't take any teasing seriously.

...

MadoHomu (Madoka X Homura)

You are a firm believe in the inherent eroticism of this image.

You have episode ten memorized.

You have a very specific emotional reaction to “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.

You have severe problems with The Rebellion Story, particularly in how it upended the optimistic note that the original series ended on and recontextualized Homura’s devotion to Madoka as something unhealthy and even toxic, but you still can’t bring yourself to reject the movie entirely, because at the end of the day, even you have to admit that damn, that dress.

The phrase, “X character did nothing wrong” pops up a lot in your internet discourse.

You ship CatraDora.

KyouSaya (Kyouko X Sayaka)

You’re always a sucker for how the dynamic of Enemies to Lovers shifts from antagonism to devotion without losing its obsessive intensity.

Your ideal date can best be summed up as Be Gay, Do Crimes…after which you have to call your responsible friend to come bail both of you out.

You know that important stuff happens after episode nine, but to be quite frank, at that point you were too emotionally traumatized to get invested and were only watching out of a feeling of obligation.

You were uncharacteristically smug after watching The Rebellion Story despite what disproportionately little screentime your ship received.

You also ship CatraDora.

MadoSaya (Madoka X Sayaka)

You don’t understand what all the fuss is about when it comes to Enemies to Lovers when there’s a perfectly good Friends to Lovers right there.

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Hot Topic switched out for a Footlocker.

You lost your mind on 4chan over Persephone’s Waltz on more than one occasion and for more than one reason (hey, ErinPtah!).

KyouMami (Kyouko X Mami)

You read A Different Story, and probably listened to that one audio drama.

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of exes that still long for one another.

You feel that a lot of the issues that both these characters struggle with stem from how messy their falling out was, and had Mami been more supportive and Kyouko not abandoned her after the death of Kyouko’s family, a whole lot of grief could have been avoided.

MamiSaya (Mami X Sayaka)

Your ideal date is getting sempai to notice you.

You have gotten into at least one altercation with Anticrack-Kun.

MadoMami (Madoka X Mami)

Your ideal date is getting kouhai to notice you.

You’re just here for some girls being friends, gals being pals.

MamiNagi (Mami X Nagisa)

You were already shipping Mami with the human form of Charlotte before The Rebellion Story came out, and even afterward you’re still unwilling to let go despite how uncomfortable it makes you now, to the point where “Aged Up Characters” is a regular tag in your ao3 searches.

Either that, or…

HomuMami (Homura X Mami)

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of passive-aggressiveness.

You were tilting your head in a particular manner during that scene where Mami ties up Homura, and feel that how it ended was a real missed opportunity.

You had to pause The Rebellion Story for about five minutes after the gunfight, and after you continued you shouted, “Goddamn it, Sayaka!” out loud.

HomuSaya (Homura X Sayaka)

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Sanrio switched out for a Footlocker.

Your favorite ao3 tag is “Hatesex.”

KyouHomu (Kyouko X Homura)

You know what's better than one edgy badass girl with a tragic past? Two edgy badass girls with a tragic past.

You felt that both these characters spent too much energy pursuing someone that just weren't into them as they were, and would better off settling with someone on more equal footing.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of game recognizing game.

You really wish that they reached that ramen shop in the movie.

KyouMado (Kyouko X Madoka)

Your favorite highschool relationship dynamic is edgy delinquent/ray of sunshine.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of “gap moe.”

HitoSuke (Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that these two characters get way too much hate, and everything that happened wasn’t their fault. Like, come on, guys. How could they have known that their teenaged relationship drama would be exploited by a race of emotionless alien groomers?

Your main priority is keeping things canon…and you don’t have a whole lot else to work with.

HitoSaya (Hitomi X Sayaka)

You feel that the most effective way of resolving a love triangle is eliminating the heterosexual options.

You feel that when Hitomi declared, “Girls can’t love girls!”, Sayaka’s reaction ought to have been, “Challenged accepted.”

SayaSuke (Sayaka X Kyousuke)

You just want good things for Sayaka, but only in a first four episodes kind of way.

You are heterosexual.

SayaHitoSuke (Sayaka X Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that the best way of resolving a love triangle is by connecting the bottom two axis.

You are heterosexual. Or possibly bisexual. Well, regardless, you are really horny.

HomuHito (Homura X Hitomi)

You’ve played the portable game.

MadoHito (Madoka X Hitomi)

You are constantly frustrated at how little attention this ship receives. After all, weren’t they friends too? But instead people seem to be more focused on shipping characters that don’t even like each other or never even interact in the show, and at this point you’re just glad that I acknowledged it in this silly meme post.

MamiHito (Mami X Hitomi)

You want to be a wealthy, unmarried Victorian duchess who is noted by history for your incredibly close relationship with your lovely companion who lives with you, does everything with you, up to and including sharing a bed, and after both of your deaths scholars will make note of what great friends you must have been.

KyouHito (Kyouko X Hitomi)

You were going out of your way to piss off Anticrack-kun. And really, who wouldn’t?

KyouSuke (Kyouko X Kyousuke)

You were going out of your way to piss off everybody, and I salute your courage.

HomuJun (Homura X Junko)

You are really into Pixar moms.

Also, obligatory…

KazuJun (Kazuko X Junko)

This is the same joke as the second part of MadoMami, but you’re also really into Pixar moms.

MadoKyu (Madoka X Kyubey)

I can’t say for certain whether or not you’re a monsterfucker, but you certainly enjoy the chaos that the very implication of this ship creates.

PolyMegucas (Madoka X Sayaka X Homura X Kyouko X Mami)

You don’t understand why there has to be so much drama between all these different pairings. All the girls are wonderful in their own ways, and they would be so much happier if they just stopped fighting, formed a loving and mutually supportive team dynamic as was seen in the first part of the movie, and possibly smooched one another.

Also, you are extremely horny.

[littlesmartart]

Leverage AU thoughts

okay so I wanted to keep the worldbuilding for the AU in that specific photoset relatively short for the sake of how the post worked, but I've seen a lot of questions in the tags so here is some more information for you all, under the cut because it got LONG:

MORALITY: okay so I called this the "(sort of) Leverage AU" because it basically flips the Leverage concept of "criminals work together with one non-criminal for the greater good" into "one criminal persuades a bunch of non-criminals that law =/= morality and that sometimes to make sure the bad guys get justice you have to work around legality". Obviously some people are easier to persuade than others (Huaisang has always been pretty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about the law, but before he joins the team he insists all of his crimes have been Theoretical, and besides, pirating movies isn't real crime, da-ge, god), and some of them are a little troubled by it but have their own reasons for joining (Mingjue has a LOT of issues with it, but joins to protect Huaisang for That One Job, and then stays with the insistence that a. they don't kill anyone, b. they don't involve anyone who doesn't super deserve it, and c. that their goal is always to get evidence so the mark can be convicted and the mark is always handed over to the appropriate authorities at the end of the job. he has a little more moral flexibility than canon Mingjue because of his Complicated Past He Wants To Atone For, but he still has an incredibly strong internal moral code that he absolutely will not violate. Jiang Cheng cares more about the law in principle, rather than personally, and as soon as he sees that they can get Justice that the law can't, he's sold). Xichen has the hardest time of it; he jumps into the first job without protest because Meng Yao asks (and Meng Yao never ever asks for anything, so it... it must be important, right? And Jin Guangshan definitely deserves it). After that he has a lot of internal struggling going on, and he's usually the one in the team trying to steer them towards legal means, and going through the "correct" channels. He probably has a breakdown about it at the end of a season and spends the next season Travelling To Find Himself. He winds up coming back to the team when, on one of his travels, he watches a family he's staying with lose everything after being targeted by a conman, but because of a dirty police chief the evidence is destroyed. They refuse to take his money when he tries to help, and he realises that they only way to get them justice... is to call in the team. That's not to say he is 100% cool with everything from then on, and he definitely draws the line at certain criminal acts (stealing for the fun of it he is not okay with, for example, and he gives a Hard No on the suggestion of trying White Rabbit) but for the most part he accepts the concept of what they do as being for the greater good.

GRIFTER XICHEN: yeah it's ridiculous and implausible but hear me out... that just makes it better. Because this man is terrible at improv and can only lie when he's in character (you see that means it's not lying then, it's just ACTING) and doesn't drink and absolutely will not seduce a mark past the level of general flirting... and yet he's somehow a wildly successful grifter??? How??? I'll tell you how: he's so fucking handsome and kind and charming and cultured that pretty much everyone who meets him just... melts a little bit and, with some coaxing, gives him whatever he needs. IT'S LIKE A FREAKIN SUPERPOWER and it's absolutely ridiculous. With the added bonus that he's juuust famous enough that the average person might kind of think he looks familiar, which means he's very good at coming across like he totally belongs wherever he's seen. Of course he works here, he's been here for months... don't you recognise him?

NO WOMEN ON THE TEAM: look, in Meng Yao's defence, when he put together this team he thought it would only be for one job, he wasn't trying to future-proof it! But yes, it can sometimes be an issue if they don't have time to plan ahead, and he and Huaisang - as the most stereotypically feminine members of the team, and by far the best liars - will usually take on any female roles they need if they're in a pinch and can't call in outside help, although all of them are ready to take on roles of different genders if need be (female roles are actually the only way to persuade Huaisang to grift, and he has an extensive shoe collection for such roles that he likes to expand by billing to the company account... Meng Yao is deeply unimpressed by this).

OTHER CHARACTERS: when Meng Yao started this, he worked very very hard to keep his siblings and the rest of his family out of it, to keep them all away from any fallout in case it went wrong (and also to stop any pesky Moral Issues from getting in the way). When that was over and they started taking regular cases, he relaxed the rule a little - Mianmian will sometimes step in to help if she can be sold on how bad the person is they're taking down, Zonghui can be relied upon if they need extra muscle, and Wen Qing is their go-to Ask No Questions doctor. Wei Wuxian frequently gets roped in to consult, as, if you give him six packs of hot chips, ten cans of monster, twelve hours, and a laptop, he can become a specialist in almost anything. Jiang Cheng was very very resistant towards the idea of his brother being allowed in the team, even just as a consultant, but the MOMENT Wei Wuxian was given any access to Shenanigans there was no fucking stopping him. In the later jobs Qin Su accidentally gets pulled into one of the cons and turns out to be a WAY better grifter than anyone could have imagined, so she winds up on the "ally call list". Meng Yao is both perturbed and proud, but absolutely draws the line at teenage Mo Xuanyu being allowed to help.

PAIRINGS: flipping the "two parents + three kids" dynamic in Leverage, this AU has 3zun and Sangcheng - so "three gege + two didi". Xiyao have a One That Got Away sort of past, and Xichen joins the team SPECIFICALLY because Meng Yao expresses emotional vulnerability by asking for help fOr OnCe In HiS fUcKiNg LiFe. Nielan dated when they were teens, and are happy to be reunited, but Mingjue refuses to rekindle a romantic relationship until Xiyao sort their shit out because it's obvious to anyone with eyes how hung up on Meng Yao Xichen is. Nieyao have a certain amount of "I'll work with you towards a common cause but that doesn't mean I have to like you" vibe, but veeery slooowlyyy wind up bonding over doing stuff they're not proud of for something they were so sure was a worthy cause at the time, but now they just feel jaded and used (there's a lot of arguments along the lines of "oh, so my corporate espionage is worse than what you did in spec ops... because the military says that what you did was legal. RIGHT. OKAY. SURE."). After several years of will-they-won't-they struggle, 3zun do get together, and everyone is very relieved. As for Sangcheng... it starts off as Huaisang just flirting kind of obnoxiously with Jiang Cheng, who rolls his eyes and snarks back, and then naturally Huaisang winds up catching feelings and is like [meme voice] Haha, I'm In Danger! He is unwilling to act on his feelings because he doesn't believe that Jiang Cheng likes him that way, and continues to believe that right up until the day Jiang Cheng snaps, and grabs him and kisses him, and is like "if I didn't actually like you flirting with me I would have punched you in the face years ago" and Huaisang is like "huh. Yeah that's probably true."

[olivinesea]

Off Souls, pt. 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

a/n: As promised. I truly don’t know what I’m doing you guys, so wish me luck and I hope you enjoy it. I’m having fun in any case. ~3.6k

Hotch makes a mistake.

Back out in the world everything seemed sweeter. It was nearly spring and the trees had started to blossom. Both of them felt an almost frantic sense of optimism. Emily, giddy and still a little lightheaded, walked close to Hotch as they made their way back to campus. They made plans for the rest of the afternoon: they would camp out in Hotch’s common room watching Planet Earth (a compromise—Hotch vetoed Saw but Emily insisted she needed to see some sort of carnage and flat out refused to entertain any suggestions involving cartoons), they’d order pizza and Hotch promised to make “the special hot chocolate” that just involved mixing the packet with milk instead of water.

They had just gotten back onto campus and were turning to take the route to their dorm. Intensely bickering over pizza toppings, they didn’t notice the man step into their path.

“Emily?”

She stopped short, immediately recognizing the voice. Hotch stopped next to her, alert. He looked between Emily’s stunned expression and the stranger in front of them.

“Hello there,” the man’s voice was friendly. “It’s been a while.”

Emily didn’t say anything but couldn’t look away either. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. She tried to think of a way out of this, anything to get them out of this moment.

“Do I know you?” Hotch asked the man, not liking the way he had moved in so close.

He turned his cold eyes to Hotch for a moment and smirked, turning back to Emily. “What? Too embarrassed to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Emily’s mouth opened and closed, not managing to create any sound.

“We’re not—“ Hotch stopped and looked at Emily again. He could feel her shaking, her fear unmistakable. He snapped his eyes back to the other man, who looked at him indifferently.

“No? She can be a little difficult.” He smiled viciously at Emily. “Although, maybe you’re just not her type.” He casually reached forward to run a finger down the curve of her cheek. He didn’t make it halfway to her jaw before Hotch swung at him. He stumbled backward, surprised. He glanced at Emily, who hadn’t moved, and looked back at Hotch who was pale with fury.

“I wouldn’t,” the man said mildly. “She isn’t worth it, believe me.”

Hotch was on top of him in less than a breath. The second hit knocked him down entirely, his head hit the ground so hard it recoiled. The man fought back, throwing his fists wildly, catching Hotch across the cheekbone. It didn’t slow him down. Hotch was bigger and far, far angrier. All the rage he’d been holding back easily broke through any rational thought. He knelt across the other man’s chest and swung at him relentlessly. He was completely unaware of the way people started to gather around them, of the way the other man grew more and more still, no longer struggling against him. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see past the brightness of his hatred.

There was a tug on his shoulder as he pulled his arm back to slam his fist into the other man’s face again. His elbow connected with something soft. He turned to see Emily doubled over and gasping. She clutched at her abdomen, trying to catch her breath. Abruptly aware of the rest of the world, he looked around at the horrified faces of the crowd. He looked down at his hands, knuckles split and covered in blood. He gagged, close to throwing up at the smell, so sharp and familiar. He scrambled up and put a hand on Emily’s back. He bent over to try to see her face. She was breathing okay again but still squeezing tightly around her middle. He could see that she was close to tears.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

His heart broke. He spent years and years trying to change, trying to get away from this. Still, here he is again, losing control and hurting the only person he cared about. For what? He sent a nervous glance to the body on the ground, horribly still. This wouldn’t fix anything. It had been selfish. He had realized exactly who the man was and instead of thinking, he let his temper snap. And now Emily was hurt. He had hurt her. His thoughts were racing now, all the functionality he had lost to single-minded revenge returned. He knew he should stay, should make sure the other man got help and own up to his crime. But he needed to get Emily home safely first. That had been the original plan and he clung to the shredded remains of it like it might save him somehow.

“Come on,” he said as gently as he could, “let’s get back.”

She nodded and managed to stand mostly upright. She deliberately did not look at Hotch’s hands or the destruction he’d caused. Her mind was having a hard time grasping a complete thought.

She had been frightened by the way his face had hardened, all evidence of the person she knew replaced with a stony ruthlessness. She grew more worried as his strikes took on an almost rhythmic quality, like he wasn’t aware of the harm he was causing anymore. That was when she was able to break out of her immobility, to call his name and, when that hadn’t worked, try to grab hold of him, physically hold him back. That hadn’t worked well for her either. What had been a hardly noticeable dull ache in her abdomen had become sharp and painful. The first violent stab had taken her breath away. She leaned over, hoping that by applying pressure she could get the muscles to calm down, to stop trying to rip her apart from the inside out. It wasn’t really working.

At least Hotch was back with her, his sanity returned. He was hovering over her nervously, unsure how to help, mortified that he had caused this. She let him guide her through the thickening crowd. Some people were on their phones, some people were talking quietly to each other, no one tried to stop them. He might not be overcome with fury at the moment but they had all seen what he could do, how he had transformed. They might whisper that it was wrong of him to leave and embellish their stories later, claiming they had tried to confront him, but no one was going to step in Aaron Hotchner’s path right then.

They made it back to the dorm without further incident. The ride up the elevator silent and thankfully empty. When they got to their floor, he hesitated.

“Do you still want to come to my room?”

She shook her head. “I think I just need to lie down for a bit,” she said through clenched teeth. It was taking everything she had not to collapse onto the floor.

He did his best not to show his disappointment. He reminded himself that this was about her and not what he wanted. He would have done better to remember that earlier as well. He knew he would pay for that one way or another but he wanted to make sure she was okay. She was all that mattered. So he led her to her room and helped her take off her shoes. He found some water for her to take the pain medication with and made sure to refill it. He shut her curtains even though the sun would be going down soon anyway.

She laid down on her side, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes heavy. She appreciated what he was doing, trying to take care of her. But she really wished he would leave. There was too much in her mind and she needed to turn everything off for awhile. The pain in her stomach was severe and all she could focus on.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, trying to sound neutral.

“No, I’m okay.”

He nodded but wasn’t sure that she was telling the truth. Her face twisted in pain and she looked unnaturally pale.

“It’s okay Aaron, I promise. I’ll—I’ll call you later. When I wake up. I just…” her words were getting more and more stilted, her breaths shorter.

“Okay, you can call me if you need anything. I can bring you food later.” He found himself still unwilling to leave her.

She waved her hand at him and curled more tightly around the pillow.

He flipped off the light as he closed the door, followed out by a muffled “thank you.” Once she was out of sight, he understood why he had been so reluctant to leave. Without her to take care of, he had nothing to think about but the blood covering his hands and the terrible mistake he’d just made. He walked back to his room, unable to think about anything but the memory of the flashing anger compelling him to drive his fists into the other man’s face and chest, again and again.

He deserved it, a part of him reasoned as he rinsed his hands under the faucet. The warm water stung the places where his skin had split and his knuckles were swollen at the joints. He didn’t disagree with that. If Emily’s rapist was run over by a bus and then slowly eaten alive by vultures, he couldn’t see anything wrong with that. The man deserved no mercy. No, the problem was that he had lost control of himself. He had let the violence inside him get out and he hated himself for it. It proved his inability to escape the past he always tried to deny. Every day he tried to make different choices than his father but he was still wholly capable of the same kind of brutality he had been taught. No matter how much he worked to change it, inside him was something hard and dangerous.

He cleaned up his hands as best he could. The skin under his left eye was puffy and red where he had been hit. He pressed on it with his fingertips, frowning as the skin turned white under the pressure then filled back in bright red when he let go. It would turn into a dark bruise that would mark him as a fighter for weeks.

Unsure what to do with himself he tried to catch up on some classwork. He had been so focused on Emily he had let some things start to get away from him. After staring at his laptop for an hour though, he gave up. He tried texting her to see if she was up and wanting company but didn’t get a response.

He paced the hallways where he ran into another kid who lived on their floor. He thought maybe his name was Darren. Unable to avoid it, he stopped to chat. They exchanged some empty information about the day. Hotch hoped to extract himself quickly by being as bland as possible.

“Did you hear about the guy who got his ass beat out on the lawn?”

Hotch shrugged warily while the other guy stared openly at his cheek.

“They say the guy who did it just walked away like nothing happened.”

Hotch still didn’t respond, increasingly self-conscious.

“They’re looking for him. The guy he beat up is in the hospital, half dead. No doubt he’s gonna press charges once they figure out who did it.”

“That’s, uh, that’s pretty wild.” He knew this lie wasn’t going to last long but he hadn’t figured out what he was going to do yet. He needed more time. He needed to make sure Emily was okay before anything happened to him.

“Most excitement we’ve had all year.”

Hotch made a non-committal sound, trying to think of a polite way to end this conversation. “Sorry, I really have to go. My friend is sick and I need to check on her.”

Maybe-Darren waved him off, unconcerned. The guy was odd and if he wasn’t so quiet, so studious, it would be easy to believe he was the culprit. He always looked angry and rarely spoke to anyone besides the loud girl he hung around with. Maybe-Darren considered it for a brief moment as he walked to the elevators. If the Hotch kid was the other fighter, he certainly did not see any reason to get involved. You never knew when a guy like that was going to snap (or snap again) and he liked his face the way it was.

Hotch retreated to his common area. Too anxious to be in his room but too nervous to go outside and potentially run into someone who could identify him. He knew it was only a matter of time before a decision was made for him regarding the attack. There wasn’t much hope of him coming out of that in a good position. He knew he deserved whatever he had coming to him but he still felt regretful about Emily. They had only just mended their relationship and now he was probably going to have to leave her on her own again. He hoped she would forgive him.

Thinking about her, he checked his phone again but no messages had come through. He sighed, frustrated at his ineffectualness. There had to be something better he could be doing. Suddenly he remembered the heating pad he had stored under his sweaters. He’d been attached to that thing growing up; the only comfort he could ever count on. Since coming to school he had felt a little embarrassed pulling it out in front of the other guys in his dorm. So it had lived in his drawer untouched for awhile. He was sure it would be useful to Emily, even if she didn’t want him there he could do this for her. He pulled it out and headed towards her end of the building.

The floor was quiet, most people out at dinner or still studying. When he got to her dorm, he found the door ajar and the lights on. He knocked lightly before pushing it open only to be faced with an empty bed. He turned slowly to look around the girls’ common area, as if she might be hiding behind some piece of furniture. He pulled out his phone and tried to call her but he could hear her phone buzzing amidst the blankets on her bed. He dug around and found it, seeing that all of his messages that afternoon had been left unopened. Concerned now, he dropped phone and heating pad on the unmade bed and left the room to look for her.

As he passed the bathroom he heard the shower running. He wavered for a moment— prominent among the strict rules he followed was one prohibiting him from entering the women’s restroom. His worry outweighed his propriety and he pushed the door open slightly.

“Emily?” he called. “You in there?”

There was no response besides the sound of running water and steam escaping through the opened door.

“I’m gonna come in there for a second. Just tell me if you want me to stay out.”

Still no response. He felt his heart picking up speed, dire scenarios starting to flash through his mind.

The curtain was pulled across the last shower stall, water pooling slightly beneath it.

“Emily?” he called again. He heard a sniffle. “Hey, are you okay?”

After a long pause he finally got a response.

“I’m fine.”

He could hear from the shake in her voice she was anything but fine.

“I’m worried about you, Em.” He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. “Please, let me help. What can I do?”

This was met with more silence.

He had just opened his mouth to try to convince her to come out when thin fingers appeared near the bottom of the curtain. They pulled it open slightly and he could see her, thankfully still clothed in shorts and a tank top, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm wrapped tightly around them. Her hair hung around her face in dripping chunks and her eyes were tired.

“Sit with me?”

He looked at her doubtfully. “How about you get out first?” he countered. “I brought—“

“Please? I just want to stay here a little longer.”

He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up. He thought about all the reasons he did not want to sit in a shower in a women’s restroom. But he couldn’t say no. He sighed as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head.

“I’m not getting naked.”

“What a shame,” she said dryly.

He blushed as he undid his pants. He still couldn’t figure out how she was so nonchalant about undressing. But he powered through the discomfort and took a deep breath before stepping into the shower.

She had edged over to make room for him. He slid down the wall, folding his long legs in to fit the space. Once the initial distaste of being unexpectedly wet wore off, he could see how this could be soothing. She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He tilted his head back so water wouldn’t drip into his eyes and mouth. They sat like that quietly for several minutes.

“You scared me,” she admitted, tracing his injured hand with her finger.

“I know. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“I wish I could have done it myself.”

He paused, unsure how to respond. “It was wrong of me.”

“He deserved it. I was thinking about how happy I would be if he died.” Then, “Do you think that makes me a bad person?”

“No. Thinking things doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“But you think you’re a bad person.” Her statement, so simple, drove right into his heart and made his breath catch.

“Well, I’ve done bad things, so, that’s…that’s how that works.” She tucked her head against his shoulder. “Is it bad if you were protecting someone else?”

“It was more than that,” he said, refusing to let himself off the hook.

She sighed. “I don’t think you’re bad. I think you made a mistake. Mistakes don’t make you a bad person either.”

He didn’t say anything to this and they sat in silence again. The water ran down their bare legs and collected around their feet. He could feel the temperature starting to cool and goosebumps began to form on his arms.

“Can we get out now?”

She ignored him for a moment, staring at her toes, lost in thought. He shifted and she looked over at him. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek before rolling up to her feet and turning off the water. He was a little dazed by the action and was slower to stand. She briskly opened the curtain and stepped out of the shower, unfazed by the wet clothes clinging to her. She stripped before toweling off and, deeply embarrassed, he stared hard at the floor while he shivered.

“Here,” was all the warning she gave before launching the towel at him. He barely caught it before it fell on the wet ground. His eyes went wide when he realized she had nothing on now and was relieved when she walked out of the bathroom. He dried off as best he could and got dressed before following her to her room. When he got there she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, holding up the heating pad gingerly.

“It’s a heating pad,” he sounded defensive.

“I know what it is. Why do you have one?”

He shrugged. “It comes in handy.”

“Hmm. Ok.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I can take it back to my room.”

“No, no. It’s mine now. You brought it to me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They smiled at each other and he thought about how fucking lucky he was.

“Want to watch something?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” He regretted it immediately.

She grinned. “Whatever I want?”

“Please don’t pick something that’s going to give me nightmares,” he groaned.

She looked wicked as she patted the bed next to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

He climbed into the narrow bed as she pulled out her laptop and started discussing possibilities. He didn’t really listen, he wasn’t planning on paying attention anyway. The shower was more relaxing that he could have hoped and he found himself thoroughly exhausted by the day. He hummed in agreement whenever it seemed like she was waiting for input and finally she pulled something up. He was asleep before they made it ten minutes into the movie.

He didn’t wake up until much later. She’d fallen asleep too, the closed laptop had slid down between her and the wall. He could feel the warmth from the heating pad wrapped around her middle and smiled. He found his phone to check the time and saw it was already 5:30 am. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept for that long. He yawned as he slid out of the bed, careful not to wake Emily. He carried his shoes in his hand as he walked down the hall back to his room. He was startled to find several people in uniform occupying his common room. They all turned to look at him when he walked in.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes?” Any lingering sleepiness vanished and part of him was tempted to turn and run. Run back to the warmth he had just left, hide beneath that soft sea of blankets indefinitely.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

~Part 5~

[miss-choco-chips]

Robin and Red X

Just a silly thing I wrote for @animemangasoul. Hopefully this makes you laugh a bit, hon! No edit whatsoever.

The titans were having a difficult time reconciling their easy going, funny, sure of himself leader with the hot mess in front of them.

“Uhh…”Wally, the bravest of them all, places a careful hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should… call your dad?”

Robin turns to look at him so fast it almost looks like his neck broke. Beast boy screams, turns into a rabbit and jumps into Raven’s arms, because the sound that came from Rob’s mouth wasn’t human at all.

“If any of you call Batman, I’ll personally ensure living hell for everyone in the Team. This is MY case!”

Wally hastily retreats, hands up in a surrender gesture. 

“Okay, okay! I’m just saying, chill. This Red X dude has been giving us all too much trouble, maybe Bats could point us in the right direction or…”

They think Dick said ‘no’, but it was more of a demonic screeching.

“But we’ll respect your wishes! Because you are our friend!”, and you scare us shitless, he added in his mind. 

Roy signaled at Wally, the moment Dick turned his back to them again. Something like ‘are we calling the Bat anyway?’, to which Wally replied ‘I don’t have a death wish, fuck no’.

They never really get around to capture Red X, but no one dares to bring up asking Batman for help again. The mysterious anti hero keeps kicking all their asses each and every time they face him, always having a countermeasure for their specific powers or abilities, but honestly? He’s not as scary as an unhinged Dick could be, so they’d rather fight him than wait for bathed breath for Dick’s revenge if they went behind his back to solve the case with his old mentor.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason hasn’t inherited the Robin cape from his predecessor. Dick wasn’t happy, seeing a new kid using his suit without permission, when he himself apparently hadn’t been ready to let it go.

But Jason wanted to be Robin. Needed it. All the good he could do… the people like him he could help… This was his chance of doing right. Of proving the world (proving himself) he was not like his father, a complete and utter trash that belonged in the dumpster that was Arkham. That he, a street rat, could be a hero.

So he fought for his right to the mask, even if he sometimes felt the itch to go wild and do his own thing. Because honestly, being Robin was awesome, but having Batman constantly breathing down his neck? Yeah, not so much.

So when Dick, now Nightwing, approached him one afternoon while Bruce was out on business, he was both weary and desperate for some distraction.

Which was exactly what the dude provided.

“What I’m going to show you”, Dick starts, slowly, after he’s checked there are no ears on them, ”it’s Robin’s secret. The only one we manage to keep from Batman. What our ancestors saved for us, our legacy.”

“We are the only two Robins, dipshit.”

“Shut up this is a formal process. Do you wanna know or not?”

“Just… tone down the roleplaying.”

“Fuck off, that’s the best part.”

Curiosity trumping annoyance, he watches as Dick places a briefcase in the coffee table where he was doing his math homework.

“This right here, it’s all the information, anything you ought to know about our mantle��s most important endgame. This is Robin’s never-ending mission. Our Moby dick. Red X.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Jason approached Tim with the briefcase, Tim’s first thought was ‘he’s going to bribe me’- an automatic response after working on Wayne Enterprises for months now. 

The second was ‘he has someone’s head there hasn’t he. Am I going to be an accomplice? What crime was this, and can I hide it from Bruce?’.

The third and final ‘maybe I should ask him first’.

His -thankfully sane now- predecessor reached the little nook where Tim had tucked himself, in hopes of staying hidden from Damian long enough to enjoy the mannor’s wifi without having to stand his bitching. He sits cross legged in front of him.

“So. Give me all you have on Red X.”

This was… unexpected, but not unprecedented. The family tends to think of him as a convenient alternative to some criminal wikipedia sometimes. 

Obediently (because then he’ll get to go back to his research sooner), he rattles out what little he could scrounge on the antihero. It was, admittedly, not much; any younger hero had not heard of Red X, as he’d been dormant for some years now, and the older ones were forbidden to talk about him by Dick himself. The first Robin had claimed ownership of the antihero, and anyone caught working on his case without his permission would find themself with their life turned around  in the most inconvenient of ways before they could even finish burying the evidence. With Bruce taking a neutral stand on the matter, merely respecting his son’s wishes, no one was willing to risk the fury of someone with Batman’s resources and knowledge.

Except, apparently, Jason, because he was opening the briefcase and turning it in his direction.

“Let me tell you a lil story, that Dickie shared with me some years ago. I wasn’t a good predecessor for a long time ‘ere, Timmers, and I wanna make it right by properly passing this on. The true legacy of Robin; the mystery of Red X.”

“I… I’m not Robin any longer”, he blurted out, though his fingers twitched to touch the contents of the briefcase, to go through all that juicy, sweet treasure.

“Doesn’t matter. Dickie gave Robin without your permission, but this… this only I can pass on, just as you can only pass it to the brat when yer ready. No one can take this away, or Dickie loses the claim he has on Red X.”

Jason opens the briefacase all the way, then.

Tim drops his coffee.

Suddenly, there was something way more important. As unholy as it sounded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Damian was invited by Drake to their own private ‘bonding night’, he was weary but hopeful. He’d been trying to fix their bond for some time now, so he could not ruin this chance, as suspicious as it sounded.

So they watched a movie, ate vegetarian pizza (Damian felt emotions when he realized Tim knew, paid attention) and complained about their older siblings and their role as Robin.

“It’s just… a heavy burden”, he admits. If someone can understand his feelings, it’d be Timothy after all.

“I get you. There’s also the matter of Dick’s and Bruce’s expectations on you.”

“I have to be perfect for them, all the time. The smallest mistake and… I could lose my family. But I feel so trapped…”

Tim’s hand found his and squeezed it. When Damian looked up, the older teen had a compassive look on his eyes.

“I might have the solution for that.”

As if he had planned this (perhaps he had), Tim retrieved a briefcase from under the couch they were occupying.

“Dick gave this to Jason, and he to me. Now, I’m passing this on to you.”

Damian tilted his head, a bit confused.

“I.. am already Robin.”

Tim smiled and pushed the case closer to him.

“This is even better. The freedom to the bindings that come with the suit. Open it.”

Curious, still weary but unwilling to lose any ground he had gained with his brother, he obeyed.

And promplty dropped it to the ground.

“What is this?!!”

“This”, Tim smiles, cheshire-cat-like, “is the Red X costume, and all his toys. Including, but not limited to, a perfect holographic devise, to use to make people think you are fighting Red X, to clean your name should anyone suspect the truth. I’ve been using it all this last few months, to…”

“Ruin my life?!”, he yells, because it’s not a secret Red X had came back from dormancy to utterly fuck with Robin, taunting him and beating his ass at every turn. It had been doubly frustrating, because everyone refused to speak about the antihero to him, so he had no information on the man to hunt him down properly.

“Chill. I just.. needed to vent a bit. And this suit helped me, which is the entire purpose of Red X.”

“I...don’t understand.”

Tim placed the briefcase in the coffee table and inched closer to Damian.

“Dick created the alias back in the day, when the pressure of being a perfect Robin became too much and he just… wanted to fuck shit up. Unwind a bit. He couldn't do it as himself and lose all the respect from the other heroes he had managed to amass, so he needed a scapegoat for it.”

Damian felt a tug of interest in his gut. He tried to surreptitiously look at the briefcase. 

“Being Robin is tiresome. It’s too heavy a burden. Always perfect partner, always a goodie two shoes… Red X allows you to go wild, be gay-do crime sort of thing, without meddling from any other hero in the community. Burn a warehouse. Use the rocket launcher B has under lock and key. Fuck whoever dumb crimefighter  you dislike the most up. Stir shit whenever you feel life’s been too quiet. Let go and have fun... Damian, aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go ape shit?”

His fingers were digging into the suit before his older brother could even finish talking.

[thegc4life]

Do you any other Hawks fic ideas you'd like to write? Or is Hawks-sensei all you've got on your mind right now?

Wyv. You know not what you ask. I have to put them in categories, Wyv. Categories.

Kid!Hawks:

-Kid!Hawks growing up with the LOV (both as a permanent thing and various ridiculous drabbles) This involves Unwilling Big Brother Shigaraki, scarily willing Big SisterToga who knows all the coolest knife tricks, Best Uncle Twice who sometimes on his real good days doubles as temporary Dad, the Dad who teaches you how to hot wire cars and laugh people’s money straight out of their wallets Compress, mother-henning can-not-leave-you-alone-for-one-god-damn-minute Spinner, True Mom Kurogiri, Big Sis Mag who seems to be the only actual one that realizes that children need to sleep at some point for the love of god, extremely confused but horrifically soft Dabi who may or may not eventually turn his whole life around because of this feathered idiot that needs someone to make sure he lives a happy life whether it be a permanent shrinking or not. Oh, and Machia. The best Mountain Monster Dog brother (?) a boy could ask for.

-Kid!Hawks with UA (staff edition) also both in temporary and permanent circumstances. Temporary is already in progress. Permanent? Oh boy, permanent world. They raise him within UA so as to keep him from the Commission. Hawks often sits in on their classes with coloring books, picture books, or just to sit there and watch them. He is very smart. He picks up on things, but mostly he just likes being around all the staff. He picks a new person to sleep with every week because some of them have really shitty sleep schedules and even as a kid he knows they would feel bad keeping him up, thus forcing them to go to bed through good-person guilt so he tragets the sleepiest looking people for the week (hint: Aizawa gets picked a lot, and even if he’s not sleep deprived Hawks would pick him because he adores his grumpy cat Dad). Thirteen does crafts with him all the time. She watches every kid show and gets really into it with him. Hawks and Mic make the meals and they sing the entire time. They sing together throughout the day. Hawks will chirp out a line of notes and out of nowhere Hizashi will burst in to sing the lyrics. Midnight reads him bedtime stories cause her voices are the best. She does his nails and lets him do hers. He practices on the UA students to surprise her with new designs (the students fall over their own feet to offer to be his test subject). Snipe does little challenges with him. Things that, while technically helping him get used to controlling his quirk, are more fun than anything else because Hawks enjoys using his feathers in games. Hawks dresses up like a cowboy for an entire month, quoting old western movies and driving everyone but a very proud Snipe up the wall. Hound Dog and Hawks go on walks together ALL THE TIME. They explore the woods around UA and Hound Dog tells Cementoss to change up the geography every once in a while so they have something new to explore. He teaches Hawks how to go camping and Hawks fricken adores him and is always on his shoulders just kicking his feet or napping in Hound Dogs hair. Ectoplasm is Hawks favorite person to play any kind of tag based game because the others are too easy to catch with his feathers. But with Ectoplasm and all his clones? hawks goes nuts. Ectoplasm cried once when Hawks asked Aizawa for peg legs for Halloween and when someone asks him if he wants to be a pirate he says no because he wants to be a super cool hero like Ecto for Halloween. No one will be as cool as him. Hawks fricken loves Vlad. Like, adores him. Whenever Vlad is in the room Hawks will just go hang off his shoulders, or tuck under his arms with a book to read, or just lean against him. He has a little stuffed bull dog that has Vlad’s exact resting bitch face and carries it with him every time he leaves the dorm because he feels safer with it. He goes to Vlad when he’s injured because Vlad just takes care of it, gives him a hug, and doesn’t tell him to be more careful. Just asks if Hawks learned something and moves on. Hawks and Nezu are penpals. They see eachother every single day, but they are penpals. Hawks grows up with the most beautiful calligraphy handwriting because he keeps trying to out-do Nezu’s. He absolutely tattles on every single teacher in these letters, giving Nezu years worth of blackmail. Hawks thinks Nezu is a stuffed animal until he is fourteen because Nezu never fesses up. He just thinks the staff is even cooler for letting a stuffed animal run the place. He only ever cries around Nezu.

-Kid!Hawks UA(Student edition): So many. There’s lines I’ve written where they’re still in school when Hawks is kidified. When they’re already pros. In Canon, in Hawks-sensei, I even a small blurb sentence of Deku running a preschool that Hawks gets put into in an AU with quirks still. I can’t even... there’s too many students, cause I’d do all 1-A and 1-B. My favorite one to randomly wake up in a panick and write about though is the one where it’s Hawks-sensei verse based and Kid!Hawks gets taken in by the Monoma family. Rui and Eiko are older and Monoma is a pro-hero by then. The pure amount of fluff, sass, and Hawks spoiling that will happen. Big Brother Rui and Bigger Sister Eiko.  I think about this one a lot.

-I’m currently (slowly but progressing) writing a gift for @saltwater-sweets where Kid!Hawks is taken in by the Uraraka family. Like, he’s not even shrunk in this one. Uraraka’s newlywed parents were involved in the accident he first saved people in and they found him before the Commission. They realized his homelife situation and opened their home to him and now he is Uraraka’s big brother and that one line I threw out there? About him being a global superpower in household moving? Teaming up with Uraraka for that? Yeah.

-Kid!League of Villains and adult Hawks. Yeah, you heard me. They all get shrunk instead of him. And he can’t just... turn them in. They’re kids. They haven’t done any of the crimes their older counterparts have. And if it’s a permanent thing? They stay kids? Then he has a chance to really, truly save them. To give them the happy lives stolen from them. The Commission doesn’t like that. So Hawks takes them and runs. Dabi can be an adult too, I guess, if that’s the ship or something, but I just really wanna write Kid!LOV and Dad!Hawks.

-Kid!Aizawa. Dad!Hawks. Same concept. Beautiful dream. Need I say more.

-Kid!Hawks, Best Jeanist

-Kid!Hawks Gang Orca

-Kid!Hawks RUMI!!

Vigilante Hawks:

- Raven was born and I dived down that rabbit hole so fast I went back in time. Raven. But from a way earlier age. Those guys mugging Hawks when he was fifteen? The spark. Hawks stayed on the streets, he never went back, and he learned some things. He got some freedom, learned some shit, and realized that hero society was pretty fucked up. Shigaraki starts the LOV up and realizes there’s this whole underground community he was never aware of that Hawks has been building for years. It’s great.

-Hawks was never found by the Commission so he was never ‘Hawks’. His Dad raised him as a criminal but Hawks, with his little heart of gold, took every chance he could to make something good out of the bad deeds. Then he got old enough and he took full control. You ever seen the Levi OVA’s of Attack on Titan? Where he’s walking down the stairs and you realize every single person there is part of a huge ass gang of awesome with Levi at the head? That. THAT.

-Hawks loses his shit in Canon and goes completely AWOL. full Feral. He sees the problems, and he is prepared to do whatever it takes get rid of them. Whatever it takes.

AU Hawks

-Horribly injured, recently retired at the ripe old age of 23, and looking for something to save him from depression. Hawks meets Todoroki Fuyumi who gets him a job at her school. This one makes my brain happy.

-Takami Keigo and Todoroki Natsuo meet in college, graduate together, join the same hospital, and open one as partners as soon as they can. Ship or no ship, they go through their entire lives together. (I just... I really like the Todoroki sibs, okay?)

-Takami Keigo was born a lot earlier. So much, earlier, in fact that he is classmates with this overly optimistic ball of light named Yagi Toshinori and the grumpy ball of flame Todoroki Enji. Big Three anyone? Also, everyone needs a dumb smart birb to keep them sane. Hawks loves his friends, and he’ll kick anyone’s ass that tries to hurt them be it physically, mentally, or emotionally. Also, he meets Nana. 

-I LOVE THE IMAGINARY KAMAKIRI FAMILY DYNAMIC OKAY?! literally anything with Hawks involved in their lives, okay?! I did not expect to spiral so hard when I made up Hideo and his relationship with Kamakiri but my god did I spiral! I just really love them!

-I’m a sucker for the classics. Tattoo/flower. Coffee shop. College. Roommates. Love. 

- (she made me write this) a story surrounding the amazing love story of my sister and Iida Tenya with Aizawa crashes the wedding even though he was invited and Mirio is her maid of honor, with Eri as the ring bearer, and All Might is the flower girl. Twice is the officiator. Uraraka releases a flock of fake pigeons (not real ones cause they don’t deserve that). Oh, and everyone else is there too, I guess. Except for Mineta. Cause he’s in jail.

Right now, at this very moment, I can not for the life of me think of any others but I KNOW there’s at least seven more that I just can’t remember because my brain is work dead. Wyv. @wyvernspirit do you see what you’ve opened here? Close the box! Close it before it’s too late! There is always more! I am never without MORE ideas!

[nouru-vi]

Headcanons for my AFK Arena gang buckle the f up

Disclaimer: I take canon lore/relationships and throw out what I don’t like thank you have a nice day

Starter pack: Estrilda, Mirael and Nemora

Nemora is sent by the Wilders to help out Ranhorn City and these three stick together going forward

Estrilda and Mirael are in idiot lesbians with each other. They constantly try to impress the other and Nemora is in the bg facepalming but she also ships them hard secretly

The gang is sent to hunt down Lucretia who is rampaging indiscriminately through the countryside and they manage to subdue and capture her. As they’re bringing her back to Ranhorn, Nemora keeps drawing info out of her through treating her kindly, and learns her story. Then they’re attacked by a large group of Maulers or sg, and Lucy demands that they unchain her if they want to live (lbr she has to be chained and not tied), adding that she also refuses to die tied up. Nemora chooses to trust her and she helps them make it out alive. Then they’re like “okay this Zaphrael dude sounds like a complete dick and we’ll help you confront him when we find him and also you can stay with us, we won’t bring you to Ranhorn to be imprisoned/executed. No more rampaging tho” and that’s how Lucy becomes the local goth mom

Silvina is sent to assassinate Estrilda, to finish off the job of destroying the Raynes, but when she sees her, memories come back to her from before her death, when she saw the young Estrilda as the girl she never got to be. She is like “fuck this I’m not doing this” and realises it’s time to stand up to Vedan’s exploitation of her and Isabella, if not for her own sake but her sister’s. She confronts Estrilda and pleads her to help remove Isabella from Vedan’s clutches. Her and the team go to do that and Isabella doesn’t really understand at first but when Vedan hurts Silvina she’s like “Back off. I made you what you are, don’t think I can’t unmake you just the same.” Now outclassed, Vedan is forced to let them go, and the sisters join the gang. Lucretia is immediately like “I’m your mom now”

Bonus: months later Vedan shows up to be like “Please forgive me. I never knew what I had until I lost it, I treated you two like crap even though you were the closest thing to family I had! Pls come back to me T_T” and although they don’t do that they agree to let him visit sometimes, so he becomes their weird weekend dad. Lucy watches him like a hawk every single time but he tries his best (I added this HC as an afterthought because the official comics with Vedan and the girls are just too fucking funny to be non-canon)

Wu Kong helps out the team on and off and Lucy hates him because he’s a FILTHY CELESTIAL while he’s just like, lady im am just leetl monky. I’m new to being a Celestial actually and don’t even know this Zaphirel or whatshisface. I’m just here to punch bad guys and have a good time. But he also annoys her for fun because he’s just like that

Lyca joins the team as a somewhat more competent co-leader to Mirael. To Nemora’s relief, because she’s the only other person so far who is not a mess or dumb or both. Silvina develops a mega gay crush on her because she’s the bouncy nerd prep to her emo jock goth. It probably takes a very long time for this to come to the surface because she is a Disgusting Graveborn and Lyca is a Beautiful and Ethereal Wilder, according to Silvina, that is. Her concerns turn out to be baseless, of course, and then they’re cute and gay, The End

Solise joins to swell the ranks of people who are both dumb and a mess. She’s powerful though and a great alchemist, and adorable and everyone else is sapphic so go figure

Flora also shows up often to help the group and Lucy is like HISS GRRR CELESTIAL HRRR GRRR at her too, while she’s just like, lady. It’s gonna be alright. You will find justice one day. Calm down. Here’s a flower bigger than your head. Have a nice day :) ~flies off on her gay little flower broom into the sunset gayly~

Certain groups catch wind of Lucretia travelling with the group and as a result, Cecilia is sent after them. Since Lucy is family by this point, they’re forced to fight and subdue Cecilia. She gets injured and they’re unwilling to leave her to her fate, so they bring her along as she recovers. For a long time, she keeps going on about heretics cavorting with Hypogean filth and whatnot, but what’s this? Lucy is around, and although Cecilia can’t see her, her voice is inexplicably pleasant to hear, and she’s just so nice to those two girls! But surely that is the insidious deception of a treacherous Hypogean, seeking to corrupt every innocent soul, right? Surely she is not a loving mother, nor a valiant woman who will do anything for the sake of justice? Right??? (yeah spoiler they end up in gays and the sisters now have two mothers and a dad. They deserve all the parents)

One day the gang stumbles upon Torne and they collectively adopt them immediately. They’re big and smad and in need of hugs and therapy so the group is happy to provide.

Nara joins from time to time, apparently because she just enjoys carnage, regardless of the target. She’s a gross and unhinged gremlin who’s somehow still hot, and her idea of humour is “bet I can kick a dead baby further than any of you”, but she’s pretty upbeat and more or less tolerated by the others. Things become awkward when the group finds out she used to be a crime boss and would-be slaver in life. She says something like “well, am I not allowed to make a new start?”, but she does have the decency to look embarrassed at least. Someone says “maybe she just wanted friends for once” and Nara throws them the most maybe so look of the century

There are some other heroes that I have yet to figure out how to work into the group dynamics and story, like Grezhul for example, as he’s one of my most used heroes now, or Oden, who has also become one of my faves. I do know Oden absolutely makes dad jokes, for a start.

That’s it so far, notice how all of these are wholesome and mostly gay? Yea that is how I roll. The AFK heroes have suffered enough in canon, only positive vibes around here and also I’m queer as shit bye

[non-sequitura]

An Ace Attorney Analysis (based on legal styles)

Phoenix: ISFP -Passionately defensive of the moral aspect of his job — justice above all else, even if it means him losing a case. Tends to take on cases that have personal meaning to him. People consider him compassionate and sympathetic. -His whole thing is "turnabouts"/tending to wing it. Good at taking chances and inspiring others to do so. Not necessarily the quickest in terms of connecting ideas, but his investigative skills/finding evidence no one else noticed is one of his strong suits. Takes pride in his appearance, even if no one else likes his hair. -Singular end goals are important to him, to the point where he sometimes forgets to account for all the details of how a crime actually occurred (e.g. proving a witness is lying only to realize it doesn't change the case much; not being able to come up with an alternate killer) -You won't find much "sticking to the code" with him. Has enough Te to know when evidence is relevant, but doesn't build his whole case on them. Tends to focus more on what people would be likely to do than what is realistically possible unless pushed.

Mia: ESFJ probably; I have to look at her case again -She seeks a lot of guidance from her mentor starting out, proving to trust in more knowledgeable mentor figures than to create her own defense style until later. Forgiving to all those involved in cases, including people proven guilty of terrible crimes, and hopes that everyone receives kind treatment. Sensitive to the fact that some witnesses will be more appealing to the jury than others. Can be a tad sarcastic and passive-aggressive. -Less into crazy turnabouts and winging it and more about sticking to traditional routines. Dresses timelessly. When teaching Phoenix for the first time, sticks to how courtrooms tend to work. -Pretty capable of changing her perception of what happened based on the evidence available. Not particularly attached to one outcome. -Most of her conclusions come from paying attention to details rather than immediately shooting holes in things.

Von Karma (Manfred): ISTJ -This guy has won every single one of his cases pretty much the same way (and it works excellently for him). When things go differently, he HATES it. He likes to get his trials over with within the first five minutes, because if unexpected things come up, he does not thrive. Knows the law inside and out. Dresses super traditionally. -Gets rid of his obstacles in the most efficient manner. Strong use of Occam’s Razor. Tends to dismiss overly complex or convoluted arguments. Unafraid to completely crush his opponents with hard logic. Can fight nearly any objection off within a few minutes — he doesn’t tend to dither or talk through all the options out loud. -Manfred is the type to say that facts don’t care about your feelings. His own feelings about a trial may matter, but he lets them sit until he has a way of dealing with them, often holding grudges over things for a very long time and only acting on them later than anyone would expect him to. -When pushed into a corner, he can rapidly come up with many alternate explanations. Unfortunately, he’s not particularly great at this, and it rarely works.

Edgeworth: INTJ -Similar to Von Karma, but has a better long-term idea of how he expects cases to go, which is why it pisses him off so much when people without a similar sense of long-term planning outwit him (AKA Phoenix). Good at deductive reasoning, but his conclusions tend to come in the form of inductive flashes of insight instead of things that stick strictly to the facts. Not always the most conventional in terms of procedure, especially in Investigations games. -Puts up with Gumshoe’s eccentricities in favor of his competence. Tends to blast people using Occam’s Razor without thinking of other possibilities until forced (“the most obvious explanation is usually the correct one.”) Gets testy when witnesses waste time or vacillate — very clear on what he believes to be correct, but can change perspectives quickly if presented with the appropriate evidence. -His own emotions are buried pretty deep, and he’s often seen as stoic. Talking about his feelings is like pulling teeth for him. His trauma tends to show itself in terms of him withdrawing or having flashbacks, rather than in verbally expressive outbursts. He prefers not to talk about his own personal problems, and is reluctant to admit anything that might make him seen as “weak,” even if others actually consider it relatable or endearing. -Values fashion and has expensive taste. Tends to engage in unwise behavior when things are going badly for him (e.g. crushing a piping hot cup of coffee all over his hand when frustrated.) Not nearly as good at investigating on his own compared to Phoenix — sees objects around him in terms of their uses, why they might be there, rather than noticing physical details about them.

Von Karma (Franziska): ESTJ -When at a crime scene or in court, bursts in like a hurricane and immediately takes control of what everyone should be doing. -More similar to her father compared to Edgeworth in terms of having a strong procedural idea of how trials “should” go.” Takes a few breaks from tradition in order to go with what’s most efficient, though (i.e. having whips in court.) -A bit more intuitive than her father - more open to several explanations of how things could have happened. -Her own feelings about things are barely accessed by anyone, including herself. Tends to express quick moral judgement on whether things are good/bad by deeming anything annoying to her “foolish,” without looking deeper into it. Ultimately has a strong sense of right/wrong, but unwilling to look past her own assumptions to see the forest for the trees. (Finally, just assigning every type a character just for fun.) INTJ - Miles Edgeworth INTP - Ema Skye? ENTJ - Kristoph Gavin (honestly I think he might be ESTJ, but there aren’t a lot of ENTJ characters anywhere) ENTP - Calisto Yew INFJ - Lamirior is probably one INFP - Apollo Justice ENFJ - Godot ENFP - Maya Fey ISTJ - Manfred Von Karma ESTJ - Franziska Von Karma ISFJ - Iris
 ESFJ - Mia Fey ISTP - Det. Badd ESTP - Shi-Long Lang ISFP - Phoenix Wright ESFP - Trucy

-2/24/21

[dewitty1]

The Pirate and the Prince

Maniacani @maniacani-arts  PalenDrome (nerdherderette) @nerdherderette

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Terry Boot, Colin Creevey, Marcus Flint, Roger Davies, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Pius Thicknesse, Hedwig (Harry Potter) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Pirate Harry Potter, Aristocrat Draco Malfoy, Virgin Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Past Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter - Freeform, Past Roger Davies/Harry Potter, Harlequin, Adventure & Romance, Tattoos, Drinking, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Sexual Harassment, No Period-Typical Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Light Angst, Happy Ending, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Travel Fair, Digital Art

Summary:

Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

Excerpt:

"Don't jump," someone says softly. 

Draco hears the weight of Harry's footsteps on the deck behind him, sure and light-footed. "Sometimes, when I close my eyes and hear the birds and the waves, it's as if I'm flying alongside them," Draco says, opening his eyes slowly. 

Harry settles himself on the railing next to Draco as they stare out at the waters ahead. "Hmm," he says quietly. The setting sun bathes his strong features in its soft light, his eyes luminous under his dark lashes. "I think I prefer to keep my eyes open, though. To be prepared for any eventuality."

"Being prepared doesn't mean one can't enjoy a moment of spontaneity. I would think that the Master of Death would embrace Fate's whimsy with a bit more daring."

Harry snorts. "I've experienced more 'daring' by the age of twenty than most have in the entirety of their lives."

"So modest." Draco glances at Harry, and in a fit of inspiration, lowers his hand to the strip of green fabric that's wrapped around his waist. He undoes the knot and waves it in front of Harry face. "Let's try, for a bit of fun. It will be like playing buffy with a stick."

Harry's eyes widen as he lets out a long hiss. "I won't wear a blindfold."

Draco frowns, deflated at the rejection. "But you wear a mask all the time," he says.

"Not one that impedes my vision." Harry leans back, visibly trying to slow his breathing. "I was often locked in a cupboard as punishment when I was a child. To be forced into such darkness is difficult for me."

"I'm sorry." Guilt wells up in Draco, the heat in his face rising. "I didn't know."

"How could you?" Harry asks, soft and without censure.

Draco thinks about his parents, how they tried to lay everything at his feet, give him every advantage. Though their wishes for his future may be different from his own, they had never done anything so deliberately cruel. "Your parents…forgive me, Harry, for speaking out of turn, but I don't understand how anyone could do such a thing to a child, never mind their own."

"It wasn't my parents," Harry whispers, fiercely staring at a spot on the railing. "It was my aunt and uncle. Monsters can be found everywhere, including one's family."

Draco reaches out to hold Harry's hand. Harry's eyes dart up in surprise, but he doesn't withdraw from the touch. His palm feels solid and warm, and then his fingers curl, interlocking with Draco's.

Harry watches Draco intently, then raises Draco's hand and brings it to his lips.

Harry's mouth brushes against Draco's skin. It's fleeting, but the ghost of the kiss lingers, the memory a sweet boon. "You're beautiful when you blush," Harry says, grinning.

"You make me feel like a lady who's just been granted a voucher to Almack's," Draco laughingly admits, thinking of Pansy.

"Hmm." Harry lets go of Draco's hand and runs a finger absentmindedly along the railing. "I doubt you'd ever find me hanging around with such esteemed company."

Draco's face falls at the disdain that's clear in Harry's voice. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The company of people who think that good breeding and exemplary behaviour are provinces of the nobility when they, in fact, are often the ones who lack it the most."

Draco takes a step forward, unwilling to let such a statement go unanswered. "That's a bit presumptuous. Why would you think so poorly of those whose only crime is to have been born of noble birth?"

"Because I was shown their immorality and cruelty at an early age, for it was none other than a noble—Lord Voldemort, the Duke of Hangleton—who robbed me of my childhood when he struck down my parents for his political advantage."

A chill washes over Draco, causing him to shiver despite the still-present sun. His father was an ardent supporter of Voldemort and his policies. He's still not sure how Voldemort met his demise and Harry's role in it, what rumours are salacious gossip versus some embellished version of reality. Given what he's just learned, he's certain that both Harry and his father are somehow involved.

Draco turns back to the open sea. As the sun touches down over the horizon, lavender washes over the skies, and the ocean turns a dark and turbulent blue.

Draco crosses his arms, unable to shake the sense of foreboding. "Here," Harry says gruffly as a light, woolen coat drapes over Draco's shoulders. It smells of Harry and his soap.

"Thank you," Draco says. Harry's gaze flicks over Draco's body wrapped in the too-large jacket before his expression becomes hooded.

"We'll be docking at Brisson Cay on Friday. My estate—Godric's Hollow—is on the western side of the Isle of Hogsmeade. It is large, and most of us reside there when not at sea, while we attend to our other business ventures. There is room for you and work to be had if you would like to continue your stay, although it might include a bit of hard labour."

Despite his predicament, the prospect fills Draco with a semblance of hope. "I believe I have proved to you that I have both the desire and capability to perform such work."

Harry gives him a smile. "It would only be fair to tell you that the Hogwarts Express sails from Brisson Cay to the Port of New York every three months. From there, it would not be difficult for one to book passage to London. If you should ever need it."

Draco frowns. "Is that what you'd prefer?" he eventually asks.

"There is a small cottage by the gardens, close to the water." Harry hesitates. "Hogsmeade is famed for its unusual beauty. I think that, for you, it would be a perfect home."

There's no mistaking the way in which Harry's voice husks lower. Draco tilts his head and licks his lips, parting them invitingly. "I look forward to you showing me all the beautiful things," he dares.

Draco winds his fingers along the back of Harry's neck and pulls him in. The hairs along Harry's nape tickle Draco's skin; Harry lets out a groan and gives in to the demand with the smallest of protests, and when he does, it's as if the walls of his resistance come crumbling down. He pushes Draco against the rail and brackets Draco's body between his muscular arms, his breath hot against Draco's cheek as their foreheads brush against one another. 

"You drive me to madness," Harry grits out. "Filling me with a fever beyond all reason." He allows Draco to bridge the distance as their lips touch, and the kiss that follows is desperate and almost angry.

The force of their kiss nearly causes Draco to buckle, his head dizzy as Harry cups Draco's chin and tilts it so the angle is better. The clumsiness of Draco's initial attempt slides into something more practised, a longing filled with lips and tongue, the heat of it urgent. Harry's left hand grips the side of Draco's hip, pulling them flush, the tightness of his breeches leaving no misunderstanding about the state of his arousal.

"Harry," Draco gasps. He tilts his neck back as Harry mouths the exposed line of Draco's throat, and he's sure that his skin is mottled and bruised as Harry worries it between his teeth. Draco's hips buck forward, and he's mortified by how needy he sounds, how desperate, how dangerously close he is to spilling in his trousers as he ruts against Harry's thigh.

"Do you know how much I've thought of you, Jacob?" Harry asks as Draco whimpers, his heart a rapid staccato.

Draco is so far gone that he doesn't care that Harry thinks he's someone else. His body burns as if suffering from ague and his heart races from the way Harry's fingers dig into his sides, as if he is trying to mark Draco's skin through the layers of his clothes.

"So needy. So beautifully responsive," Harry adds as he punctuates his words with a roll of his hips.

"Only for you, Harry," Draco gasps. "No one else. There's never been anyone else."

Harry's hands still, his grip painfully tight. He pulls back, and though his eyes are still dark with arousal, they are also widening in shock. He takes a step back, his lips swollen and kiss-bitten, his dark hair tumbling out of its queue as he shakes his head forcefully. "You are…" he rasps, his throat working from the effort. "You are an innocent?"

"What does it matter?" Draco pleads. He moves to draw Harry towards him, his heart aching when Harry recoils from his touch.

Harry's hands are clenched into fists so tight, Draco fears his nails will draw blood. "It matters because your first time should be something more than a dalliance."

Draco's cheeks pink with anger. "Are you saying I'm but an amusement?"

"Jacob…" Harry takes several deep breaths but he's already closed off, distancing himself from Draco with his words and actions. "I am saying that I am not the man that you think, nor the one you deserve. You should be someone who can return the trust that you give in equal measure."

He turns and walks away. When the sun breathes its last gasp, Draco realises that he's still wearing Harry's coat.

[mmacabrera]

“You’re cold. Come here.” with drakepad! ur awesome btw

Hidden At Plain Sight

Drake’s chest heaved, the airfilling his lungs cold as ice but grounding him into that time and space, itkept him awake as he watched the life of the city at night with a criticaleye. 

It had been a disappointing,unexciting night for Darkwing Duck, the lack of crime keeping him more on edgethan if it had been at least one robbery, or some jaywalker, or anything. Ofcourse, that when Gizmoduck patrolled almost three robberies could happen atthe same time, but if he was, not even a bag-snatcher wasaround. Drake would have found a way to turn that around to put his ego at easeif he hadn’t been nervous all night, much before patrol even started.

Like, let’s say that afternoon whenhe was hanging out with Launchpad at the garage.

Drake groaned to himself,disconnecting desperately those thoughts from his mind and trying toconcentrate on watching the streets.

So concentrated in his task that hedidn’t notice his shoulders trembling until a familiar, warm hand engulfed oneof them with such a soft carefulness, it made him shiver more than the freezingof the night. He turned around, just to see Launchpad looking worried over himwith a hesitant smile, he had to remind his heart to be still, not wantingLaunchpad to hear it.

“Are you sure the cold is notgetting to ya? You’re kinda shaking, DW.” It was a fair question, one Launchpadhas repeated like a hundred times now, but he hadn’t touched him until then.That? That did get to him.

“Nah, I’m fine. Not shaking, it justthat there haven’t been any criminals out there,” Drake brushed him off ascalmly as he could, the point where their bodies connected scalding like hotwater. His eyes scanned the city again, trying with all his might to ignore theeyes boring into his frame. “Maybe they’re planning something. But fear not!”and his hands went up in a dramatic stance, obliging Launchpad’s hand toretract. “Darkwing Duck will be here to stop those plans no matter how goodthey think they’re hiding their evil-doings!”

Launchpad narrowed his eyes, and fora second Drake truly believed he wasn’t gonna buy his play of confidence, butLaunchpad smiled with excitement, the very few boyish features he still hadaccentuating like that and making him look younger, unpreoccupied. “Of course,Darkwing! You’re a hero!”

Launchpad’s validation washed overhim with relief, his reassurance working like a charm and Drake felt safe ofany scrutiny for a second. But that hand connected again with his body over thesuit, moving from his shoulder to his bicep, and Drake shivered all over.“You’re still trembling though, DW.”

Drake didn’t know how to tell himthat the shiver hadn’t been really from the cold.

Drake brushed his hand off moredirectly this time. “I’m telling you I’m fine, LP.”

The more he touched him—

“But, DW, you look like anearthquake!”

—the more Drake remembered—

“I do not!” he answered, kind ofoffended.

—that Launchpad and he had almostkissed in his garage that afternoon after reading Drake’s comic collection.

“Just, at least,” he started to sayas he took his jacket off immediately, Drake willing himself to not stare likea creep to the movement of his muscles as he did that. Launchpad extended thepiece of clothing to him. “Take my jacket, please.”

Or at least, Drake thought theyhad almost kissed because he could have imagined it.

“No, really, Launchpad, I don’t—.”

Because it could have been his mindas always, playing his heart like a fiddle, making him seem tensed stares wherethere were not; making him seem Launchpad lean down to him and close his eyes,aiming to his beak, when he had not; making him forget that the garage waseverything except private when Dewey came crashing down with a battle cry andalmost giving Drake a heart attack.

“Come on, Darkwing—.”

“Launchpad, I’m telling y—.”

“Drake.”

It was like a bullet to the chest,his name on his beak like a well-kept secret weapon. He felt disarmed suddenlybut that didn’t stop him from looking at him with a frown and an unwillingbush. Did Launchpad know, the power he had by saying that name alone?

Launchpad’s laugh came when helooked at his pouting, just a little bit exasperated but no less kind for that.“Just take it, please. You protect everyone, so I guess this is the least I cando.”

The least, Drake scoffed in his insides.“Says you? Who build me a replica of the Thunderquack?”

Launchpad only smiled, there wassomething hidden there that he wasn’t letting Drake see. “I did that because Iwanted to.”

He felt a little threatened by theidea of Launchpad hiding something specifically from him. Weren’t theypartners? Oh, he should feel a little like a hypocrite, didn’t he? “And you’renot doing this because you want to?”

Launchpad’s smile only grew.Whatever it was, it was making his stomach flutter. “Fifty, fifty. I’m coldtoo, ya know?”

“If you’re cold too, just keep it.”Drake insisted, getting more on the edge by the conversation for no apparentreason. Their tension from that afternoon coming like a wave, his lungs achingfrom the cold and he felt about to start hyperventilating, his heart at histhroat.

Launchpad did not give up, instead,he presented the jacket as if to help him put it on, his smile calm but hisvoice firm. “Drake, just— Come here. You’re cold. Look what you’re doing.”

“Huh?” Drake looked at himself,confused. He hadn’t even noticed he had started to hug himself, his handsdesperately trying to warm his arms over the suit (or to calm himself down, hedidn’t know). He looked at Launchpad with a frown but he was only smilingpretty unsteadily as if he was trying to not let him see his smug smile, Drakescoffed and looked to the side, but a shiver, this time from the cold, made himclose his eyes and breathe shakily.

“Dammit, Launchpad!” He complainedlike an angry little kid, stomping to him and letting him help to get thejacket on, Launchpad giggling under his breath the entire time as the piece ofcloth swallowed Drake’s entire frame. 

“Perfect!” Launchpad immediatelycommented when Drake turned around to face him with a blush and a doneexpression, he looked three times smaller with the big jacket on him and Drake could barely see his fingertips, but he sure was warmer now.

He crossed his arms and hid his facein the jacket, turning around to not let Launchpad see the redness that he wassure was covering all his face, and to avoid to keep looking at the secret thatLaunchpad kept showing in plain sight as he looked at him with strange,watchful eyes. He felt protected in it somehow, but he would prefer for hisheart to not be beating so loudly.

“Uh, are you mad at me?” Launchpadasked hesitantly, cautiously searching to touch his arm and make him stopcrossing them.

“What? No! It’s just…” Drake didn’tknow what it was either, Launchpad’s hand kept insisting, slowly starting toease his arms down, until they were hanging limply at his sides.

“It’s just…?” That hand traveleddown his arm until he touched his fingertips tentatively, Drake felt his chestexpanding at that and his fingertips relaxed, letting them hold each other byjust their fingers until they both seemed to drop the pretense at the sametime, their hands enveloping each other in perfect synchronization. That pointof contact making him warmer than the jacket could ever make him.

This wasn’t his imagination, thiscouldn’t be his imagination.

This feels a little..., he started to think, his heartaccelerating like a race car and his face blushing as he tried desperately tonot lose his mind to this, ...like a date.

The patrol had been going withoutcasualties, the beautiful night just filled with white noise from the cars downthe street and their quiet conversations at the roof, they were holding handsand he was wearing Launchpad’s jacket. This was—

Oh, no.

No, no, no. He didn’t want his firstdate with Launchpad to be while he was being Darkwing Duck! There had to be—Ok, there was no kiss. So this wasn’t a date. 

Ha! Take that societal constructionof what a date constituted!

Wait, no, that sounded—

Launchpad chuckled under his breath,breaking the silence and stopping Drake’s stupid running mind and calling hisattention as it always did. For a second he was worried Launchpad had acquiredsudden telepathic powers and read his thoughts and laughed at them until heopened his beak.

"Your glove feels cold,” hesaid nonchalantly with a little chuckled, as it was a fun fact he was pointingout, it did not make Drake feel less self-conscious though. 

Just as those words got out of hismouth, Drake tried to backtrack his hand but Launchpad’s hold only got tighter,the sudden insistence of it making Drake turn around to see him with a littlegasp, confused. Launchpad was already looking at him, a reassuring smile thatwashed over Drake with the opposite effect. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“Launchpad, this...” His mind wasreeling, working like an overpowered machine as Launchpad’s half-lidded eyeswatched his face and he intertwined their fingers firmly. There wassome— some fear in his stronghold, a fear Drake shared. Was he, was heleaning down or was this his imagination? His whole frame obstructedDrake’s vision, not intimidatingly, more like with an exact purpose. It didn’tleave room for anything other than Drake’s complete, unabashed attention, thedesire for a crime to appear flying from his mind with all this.

Suddenly,there was no cold, only Launchpad, with his warms hand and his green eyesshining under the lights of the city and this terrible tension that had beenhaunting them for so long.

Whatis this? What is this? What are you hiding?

“Whatis this, Launchpad?” It left out his beak shyly and broken and confused, like alittle plead, a cry for help.

“Uh,I was kinda hoping ya might have known that,” he whispered a little playful butjust as nervous, and no, Drake was sure it wasn’t his imagination when henoticed Launchpad leaning down, his eyes flying now and then to his beak.

That,what Launchpad was hiding, just in plain sight. Was this it?

Hewished that the simple fact of being Darkwing Duck made him know everything inmoments like this.

“Launchpad...”His chest heaved again, his lungs being filled this time with the cold aircombined with Launchpad’s hot breath as he leaned down slowly over him, bothclosing their eyes in anticipation, Drake getting on his toes to ease his joband his free hand moving to cradle Launchpad’s cheek. He felt breathless butsuddenly that didn’t annoy him at all, nor tensed him, he didn’t even rememberthe casualty of that afternoon. It was just this, the secret tattooed in theirhearts.

Soclose, so close, just a little bit more, please.

Theyalmost jumped out of their feathers, their faces that had been separated by justa centimeter just seconds ago now a meter apart, they turned to the sound of anexplosion and an alarm that had made them separate and their wide eyes watchedwith terror and confusion the fire coming from the bank just some streets down.They could only blink at it, still trying to process the sudden drag toreality. Until Drake exploded too.

“Of course! But ofcourse that now if when that’s gonna happen! UGH.”Drake started to ramble furiously, stomping his foot to the ground and walkingaround the roof like a jailed cat, until a rumbling laugh resounded through thenight and Drake turned to it bewildered. Launchpad had to hold down his beak tostop laughing, coughing a little until he stopped, he looked fondly at Drake,who only looked at him confused.

“You ready, partner?” Launchpad’sfist was up waiting for him, and Drake blinked a few times, only to scoff andlaugh too. This was unbelievable ridiculous, but at least it was alongsideLaunchpad.

“Ready, partner,” he corresponded,his fist going up too.

Both of them prepared to say it atthe same time as their fists connected.

“Let’s get dangerous!”

Drake didn’t notice he was jumpingto the danger while still wearing Launchpad’s jacket, but Launchpad did seem tonotice if his satisfied smile could be attributed to that.

And maybe to something more.Launchpad made a little list on his mind. Crime first, asking for a date later.Kiss had to be included.

And he wasn’t going to hide it thistime from Drake.

[chicagocityofclans]

Deucalion Thornton→ Can Yaman → Warlock

→ Basic Information 

Age: 838

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual 

Birthday: March 12th 

Zodiac Sign: Pisces 

Religion: Buddhist

Mark: Cleirigh

Generation: Unknown

→ His Personality Deucalion was often overshadowed by his family and those who shared his mark. While he was overlooked, however, his personality still flourished in the shadows. He was a brave and charming toddler. Though he lost most of his charm, Duke continued to be dangerously and recklessly daring well into adulthood. His fears were minimal and the process of dying or death wasn’t on the list. While he can go with the flow and play follow the leader, Duke is a boss at heart and doesn’t mind barking out orders when necessary. With his dry humor and quick wit, past his hard exterior, he isn’t a bad person to get along with or on the side of your cause. 

Duke does like the finer things in life. Mostly because he’s able to afford it and only has one life to live; no matter how long that life maybe. He is picky about what goes on his body, into his kitchen, and on his table. This also applies to his Brewery. He is willing to fly to foreign countries to find the best ingredients at whatever cost and import them back to the States. Even though he enjoys the finer things, Duke does not enjoy being in the spotlight. His curiosity and ego is well hidden behind his introvert and nonchalant behavior. Like many loners, he is uncomfortable in large crowds. He barely tolerates the over crowded pack house and is often found chasing the local Animal Shifters out of his Brewery when he gets tired of seeing them.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Co-Owner/Founder of ANONYMOUS; Previously International Sales Specialist at Shutter International Exports & Imports

Scars: Left cheek as a result of an attack from a wolf shifter when he attempted to ride said wolf like a horse at the age of six.

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Haematology and Ales

Two Dislikes: Power-Hunger and Greek Mythology

Two Fears: Being Cursed and Unlabeled Bottles

Two Hobbies: Homebrewing and Backpacking

Three Positive Traits: Mysterious, Audacious, Modest 

Three Negative Traits: Loner, Blunt, Aloof

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Alexander Thornton (Step-Father): Alexander raised him and his brother after their mother died. One day he never returned home and disappeared. Duke doesn’t know what happened to the old man and chooses to ignore it.

Daphne Thornton (Mother): She died when Duke was young. He doesn’t remember much about her. He’s asked for multiple Mnemokinetics to enhance his memories of her but they seem to be blocked. 

Sibling Names:

Aries Thornton (Older Twin Brother): They have a love/hate relationship. Duke used to jump on Aries' bed or throw tantrums without Aries giving a care or simply laughing at his little brother's amusing rants. And other days Duke stayed tensed in fear for his life because Aries was having a bad day. He knows Aries wouldn’t kill him but deep down Duke is terrified of what he could do.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Peter Knox (Boyfriend): They were both hostile against each other when Peter stepped into Duke’s life. Duke knew deep down he was attracted to Peter but had no way to express himself while Peter was dating someone else. They became good friends and bonded over old homebrewing. They eventually opened Anonymous together and their romantic relationship bloomed within its walls. They have been together for 7 years and have a home near the main packhouse. 

Platonic Connections:

Isaac Baker (Wolf Leader): Isaac has given him a chance that could destroy his pack and his reputation. Duke is forever grateful. 

Geri Beckham (Good Friend): Geri was one of the first of the Chicago pack to welcome him in with wide arms. They just clicked.

Talia Cleirigh (Friend): Talia once mistook him for his brother, Aries, and they have been friends ever since. She was a big help to him when he was first cursed. 

Michael Shaw (Friend): Michael is intelligent and one of the only other wolves that Duke can hold a long conversation without it getting awkward.

Leah Phillips (Friendly): Leah reminds him of his cousin Kaylor. 

Ronan Cleirigh (Distant Cousin): Ronan has helped him through a lot. And continues to do so. Duke is grateful for him and his help.

Garrett Cleirigh (Distant Cousin): They had a lot of fun while Duke was still a warlock. Their fun has slowed down but they continue to support each other.

Hostile Connections:

Alan Thomas (Indifferent): Alan has hounded Duke since day one. Duke does everything in his power to ignore him.

Sol Alfaro (Dislike): Duke has met people like Sol before and knows the game that Sol is trying to play. 

Kudzai Rinker (Nuisance): Kudzai has always been a thorn in his side. If it wasn’t for her seat on the Council, Duke would have been normal again by now.

Pets:

None

→ History Duke has never really been alone. Since the moment his parents decided to have him, he’s been with his twin brother Aries. Duke's mother, who was a neuromancer, was there and aided when he bumped his head as a toddler. He first learned to hunt for food with his step-father, a disintegrator, there besides him. When he was learning to have better control of his powers, the Cleirigh family was there to help him. The only time he was really alone was when ventured out to test his master powers on a pack of wolves in Canada. He took control of them for days and that’s where the Alberta province Council caught him. It was against their council rules for those with therinology to use their master powers against mythical creatures. They had an animator within their council who quickly deactivated his powers. He was unable to leave or contact his family. Duke was sentenced to 300 years cursed as a wolf and his powers were to remain deactivated until then. 

It took months for Duke to make it back home in wolf form and he was nearly poached multiple times. When he reached home he was greeted by Ronan and Roman. The spirits around him made it clear who he was but not why he was the way he was. It was Kaylor who understood him and translated exactly what happened. His family was on a warpath but apparently the local wolf pack had already wiped out the council. They were at a loss but Duke remembered most of their names, the most predominant one being a Wilhelm. While they attacked most of the Wilhelms in Canada, South and North America, Duke remained in wolf form. As half of his family fought, the other half tried to break his curse. It was nearly a year later when Roman and Judson created a spell to change him back into his human form. Sadly, the curse was still active. When he found he couldn’t use his magic, Duke burst into his wolf form again. He only changed back this time when he calmed down. 

That’s how the cycle continued. Until one day, Ronan, Roman, Kaylor, Aries and Judson were sure they figured out a way to change him back into a warlock. Ronan and Roman had specially taken on Archives, Oracles and Animators as mentees or workers at Shutter to help their progress. However, there must have been a miscalculation on someone's part because instead of turning Duke back from a cursed wolf shifter to a warlock, they made it so every supernatural in Chicago was stuck as stuck in whatever form they were shifted in and made it impossible for every witches and warlocks to use their powers for two weeks. Everyone was furious and the cat was out of the bag after 193 years of secrecy. For the most part everyone feared him. It irritated the living Hell out of him but there was nothing he could do without endangering himself and his family. Isaac Baker, wolf alpha, spoke out on the third day of every Chicago leader meeting about the incident. Isaac offered him a spot within his pack, to help with his wolf and in return Ronan would side with them on any votes or other serious matters. Duke had never embraced being in wolf form; he never ate in wolf form, never urinated in wolf form or in general did anything besides stalk around or run. Isaac began to train him and Duke’s world slowly changed around him. 

In mid-2012 a nuisance by the name of Peter Knox walked into Duke’s life. Isaac kept Duke away from the wolves within his clan before, but had decided it was time to introduce him after they came up with an explanation. Peter was a hot bundle of frustration and emotional tension. Duke was attracted to him the moment he laid eyes on him but the cocky son of a bitch smirked. Duke’s attraction led to his anger. He was hot on Peter’s tail, constantly informing him how displeased he was that the other man was second and how he wasn’t what they needed. It didn’t help that Peter started sleeping around someone younger and of a different species. He wasn’t on Peter’s top list too, he later found out because Peter’s show of dominance never worked on Duke. Duke had no clue what it was that Peter was doing and stared at him as if he was an idiot. One random day they started talking about shitty beers and reminisced about old fashioned brewing and they clicked. Their friendship grew as Duke turned a section of the pack kitchen into a brew station and they bonded over a rare mixture that Duke remembered from his travels in Ireland. It was Peter that suggested he open a bar and Duke put his plans in motion, offering Peter to invest and possibly co-own with him. By this time, Peter had called it off with the younger species but it was only after the break up that they shared their first kiss while putting away glasses right before the grand opening of Anonymous. 

→ The Present His family has found his cure a decade too late. Duke remembers being unwilling to leave the house and too angry to face the world when his magic was taken from him. He has long come to terms with what he did and repented his sins. His sentencing was clear; 300 years as a wolf for his crimes. With their disastrous last failed attempt to change him back and his blooming relationship with Peter, Duke is unsure if he wants to be a warlock again since his relationship with Peter would have to end. He is unsure what another failed attempt could hold for their family or if it would force the truth out about him to the supernatural world. That is something Duke isn’t willing to gamble with anytime soon. 

Anonymous has been doing well but Duke is having trouble keeping it a supernaturals only bar. He has humans and supernaturals working the morning shifts but only supernaturals working the night and weekend shifts. Duke is thinking of placing a ward around the establishment that deters humans from entering but is also crunching numbers that aren’t adding up from their loss. Peter and Duke have been promoting their business on Ryan Cleirigh's podcast and speaking in general about the community. Ryan however has been trying to push the topic towards their relationship and the unspoken LGBTQ community within the supernatural world.