#it’s another goddamned stealth pun

[bestworstcase]

Wait could you go more into Salem being glinda? (<- person who is bad at allegories but loves your metas)

ok!!

step one is to clear out everything you’ve ever read about rwby’s ozian allusion from your brain because this fandom keeps trying to make it about the wizard of oz and it’s… nnnot about the wizard of oz. the book we’re going to be talking about as the primary text of reference is the second oz book, ‘the marvelous land of oz,’ which is about what happens after dorothy and the wizard go home.

the reason nobody can figure out who rwby’s “dorothy” is is… there is no dorothy. she’s in kansas and not really relevant to this story except insofar as her journey through oz resulted in the wizard’s departure and the end of the wicked witches of the east and west. she’s The Backstory. and—actually as i write this there, um, there IS a dorothy and now i have to go stare at a wall for a little while. 

…

we’ll get there.

context:

at the end of the first oz book, ‘the wonderful wizard of oz,’ the wizard leaves and glinda, the good witch of the south, tells dorothy how to return home to kansas with the glass slippers (which fall off her feet and are lost forever whilst carrying dorothy home)

(the classic film makes something of a mess by combining glinda and the good witch of the north into a composite character, creating the problem of why glinda would not simply tell dorothy how to use the slippers right away. in the book, the good witch of the north sends dorothy to the wizard, who is secretly a fraud, and after he inadvertently leaves dorothy behind she is advised to travel south to consult with glinda instead.)

now, the wizard was the ruler of oz, so his departure created a political problem that he attempted to solve by appointing the scarecrow to rule in his absence. that choice is what ‘marvelous land’ is chiefly about because, you see, before the wizard came along, oz was ruled by a king named pastoria, who had an infant daughter named ozma. then the wizard deposed pastoria, and princess ozma disappeared.

the book’s protagonist is a boy named tippetarius (tip) who’s been raised all his life by the bad witch mombi. tip is in fact ozma, stolen by mombi and transformed into a boy to secure the wizard on the throne of oz. he has no idea; he just knows that mombi isn’t very nice to him and he wants to leave. 

when he runs away, he takes with him jack pumpkinhead—a fellow tip made by carving a jack-o-lantern head for a wooden man, animated by mombi’s magic. their relationship is quasi-parental (jack calls tip “father” but tip is, you know, a boy and not especially fatherly). they’re joined by a living saw horse en route to the emerald city. the trio is briefly separated, with jack and the horse rushing ahead and being received by the scarecrow while tip is waylaid and meets general jinjur, who is leading an army of revolt to the emerald city to overthrow the scarecrow.

that happens. jinjur wins more or less by default because the soldier with green whiskers, who guards the emerald city’s gate, is too cowardly to fight them and simply lets them into the city. the scarecrow flees, along with tip, the sawhorse, and jack. this motley crew heads west to winkie country, once the domain of the wicked witch of the west, now ruled by nick chopper—the tin man. en route to winkie country, the scarecrow mentions to jack that pumpkins rot and jack spends the remainder of the story in a state of ever-present existential dread over his imminent decay. 

anyway, nick accompanies them back to the emerald city, along with the woggle-bug—a very large, knowledgeable bug whom none of them like particularly and whose backstory involves transformation by a professor, an incident about which the woggle-bug has ambivalent feelings—whom they meet along the way. they’re hindered by various illusory traps mombi throws at them because she’s trying to get tip back under control.

reclaiming the emerald city from jinjur does not Go Well. they’re forced to flee again, briefly end up stranded in an inhospitable place on the far side of the desert and attacked by birds. the woggle bug saves them by using a silver wishing pill to repair their means of transportation so that they can reach glinda’s home, in southern quadling country. 

they want glinda to help them restore the scarecrow to the throne of oz. glinda has other plans, because she’s spent all this time trying to find ozma and set right the wizard’s various injustices. she’s narrowed it down to mombi as the culprit, and upon learning that the witch has hidden herself in the emerald city, she… um, immediately lays siege to the emerald city to “starve it into submission” and flush mombi out, then chases her to the impassable desert at the edge of oz, ties a rope around her neck to silence her magical powers, and bodily drags her back to the emerald city to account for her wrongdoing on pain of death:

Glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to Mombi and said: "You will gain nothing, I assure you, by thus defying us. For I am determined to learn the truth about the girl Ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, I will certainly put you to death." "Oh, no! Don't do that!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "It would be an awful thing to kill anyone—even old Mombi!" "But it is merely a threat," returned Glinda. "I shall not put Mombi to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth." "Oh, I see!" said the Tin Man, much relieved. "Suppose I tell you all that you wish to know,". said Mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. "What will you do with me then?" "In that case," replied Glinda, "I shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned." "Then I would become a helpless old woman!" "But you would be alive," suggested the Pumpkinhead, consolingly. […] "You may make your choice," Glinda said to old Mombi, "between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. But I think you will prefer to live." Mombi cast an uneasy glance at the Sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with.

thus mombi is forced to tell the truth, remove the curse she placed on tippetarius (turning him back into ozma), and take glinda’s potion to strip all of her magical power away. 

folds hands. 

here are some facts about glinda:

she rules over quadling country—in the oz books, the cardinal kingdoms are all color-coded; northern gillikin country is purple, eastern munchkinland is blue, western winkie country is yellow, and quadling country? red. (glynda goodwitch’s purple is the first hint that she is not glinda, but rather the good witch of the north who believes in the wizard’s power. her absolute faith in ozpin is the second hint.)

glinda is, despite her youthful appearance, implied to be thousands of years old, and by any measure the most powerful sorceress in all of oz. 

in demeanor, she is always calm and collected and resolutely truthful; so great is her dedication to the truth that she has no power over mombi’s magical deception and illusions, hence the need to force mombi to undo her own curse. she always knows when she’s lied to, but she can be fooled (fleetingly) by powerful illusions. and she can be utterly ruthless in pursuit of what she believes is right for oz. 

she, as noted in the last post, is responsible for freeing the flying monkeys from their enslavement by the golden cap. 

now!

the allusions rwby is making to ‘marvelous land’ are really very straightforward—much like cinder and cinderella or salem and maiden-in-tower stories. it is impossible to read the book with rwby in mind and not see the connections:

the god of light is mombi.

ozma is ozma; as ozpin, he has become the wizard (complicit in his own cursed imprisonment), and within oscar he’s tippetarius (a boy who’s lost his true self).

oscar is jack pumpkinhead, ozma’s heir (thus, symbolically, his “son”), brought to life at least symbolically by light’s power (he’s in the story at all because he’s ozma’s vessel), and preoccupied with existential dread inspired by the looming immediacy of his spiritual death.

qrow is the scarecrow, left to carry the symbol of ozpin’s authority in ozpin’s absence and forced to flee beacon, the “emerald city,” by

summer rose, who is general jinjur, holding beacon academy while she searches for the crown. (jinjur spends a considerable portion of the story trying to get the royal crown.)

lionheart is the soldier with green whiskers: not the fearful but truly courageous lion, but the cowardly old soldier who all but hands jinjur the keys to the city in his terror. 

ironwood is the tin man, ruling over a land once subjugated by the wizard’s bitter enemy (pre-war, fascist mantle) now remade into a shining and prosperous kingdom under the command of the wizard’s ally (atlas)—and it is he who gives sanctuary to the scarecrow and tip’s party after the emerald city falls, and he who leads the failed first attempt to take the city back by force. 

vacuo is the nest of jackdaws where the party ends up stranded, far from oz—they cross a desert to get there and i suspect the point of theodore is to signal that vacuo isn’t “in” oz but rather standing in for the deserts and the lands beyond. because dorothy is in kansas, you see. (he’s not the Real Dorothy, though, we’ll get there momentarily).

the woggle-bug is raven, the maiden of knowledge who knows the secret that will bridge the impassable divide between vacuo and salem; her knowledge of what summer did is the silver wishing pill which, incidentally, poisons tip when he tries to use it. 

and salem is, of course, glinda: ancient and aloof and coldly ruthless in her pursuit of the truth, searching for ozma (<- note the congruence here with rapunzel searching for her prince in the wasteland!) and ready to GO TO WAR to bring the god of light to account for what he’s done. i really must emphasize the GOING TO WAR bit: the glinda of the books is not the soft, mistily benevolent lady the classic film makes of her. she has an extremely well-disciplined standing army which she marches on the emerald city with the explicit intention of delivering a siege to “starve it into submission.” mombi looks this woman in the eye, sees death staring back at her, and surrenders with a whimper. glinda is ruthless.

so it isn’t even “glinda would go to war if she thought it necessary” it’s that glinda does in fact go to war and rwby is, with salem, taking glinda’s decision to go to war to achieve her ends very seriously and putting that in a context where salem isn’t revered as a protector and loved by all. the only difference between salem and glinda is that glinda is beloved by the people of oz!

but i also promised you dorothy. so:

allow me to direct your attention back to what glinda does to mombi after ozma’s curse is lifted. mombi is made to drink a potion that causes her to forget all the magic she’s ever learned, leaving her to live as an ordinary old woman—but she is not left alone to suffer afterwards, because ozma makes arrangements to provide for her indefinitely.

this is, of course, what’s in store for the god of light. he’s going to ascend—that’s obvious—and the fairytale ‘the two brothers’ hints quite strongly that he’ll come back as a man (i’d wager a faunus specifically), leaving his power and memories of divinity behind and given a peaceful life in return. mombi’s resolution in ‘marvelous land’ offers a direct 1:1 comparison to ascension. 

but what about the god of darkness?

he’s– he’s dorothy.

dorothy doesn’t appear in ‘marvelous land’ and she has no presence in the book whatsoever except as one of the two characters whose departure at the end of the last book created the circumstances that allow this story to occur: it is dorothy’s adventure that convinces the wizard to leave oz, and then she leaves too. the wizard—through mombi, the real power behind his throne—retains his influence and authority over the land of oz until she is forced to undo her wrongs, but dorothy is simply… gone. she went home, she’s remembered fondly by her friends, she has nothing whatsoever to do with this story, and the silver shoes that bore her home at the end of the last book fell from her feet and were lost forever. 

(she does eventually make it back to oz, in a roundabout way, by accident. but for rwby’s purposes, and within the context of ‘marvelous land’ taken in isolation, dorothy is Gone Forever.)

afterans refer to the tree as home; they think of ascension as returning home to rest and find renewal after a long journey through the world outside. at the end of her journey through oz, she asks glinda to send her home, and glinda tells her:

“The Silver Shoes," said the Good Witch, "have wonderful powers. And one of the most curious things about them is that they can carry you to any place in the world in three steps, and each step will be made in the wink of an eye. All you have to do is to knock the heels together three times and command the shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go.”

and, as i noted, the shoes carry her home but are lost in the process, never to be found again. 

glinda teaches dorothy how to go home. likewise, salem is a repetition of jabber—the argument between the brothers comes full circle—and through this experience dark realizes that he needs to “go home,” i.e. ascend. he’s been trapped in this same disagreement for thousands of years and nothing has changed; nothing will change unless he tries something new. he shatters the moon on his way out and, unlike his brother, there’s nothing to suggest he’s still present in this world or relevant to this story as anything but backstory… because he ascended and became something new.

(the spirits in the relics.)

(which in terms of the ozian narrative, represent the golden cap, which glinda receives from dorothy before she gives it to the king of the flying monkeys to set them all free, so the symbolic through line between dark-as-dorothy becoming the spirits-as-flying-monkeys through his and their relation to salem is relatively straightforward.)

anyway, behold.

toto.

[vaaaaaiolet]

When you run out of his work summit on the brink of tears, you can't believe that Leon hasn't picked up on how he hurt you. His only option is to apologize, but you're not listening to a word he says. So he'll just have to make you watch.

mdni i'm so serious. married f / m smut where porn is the plot THERE'S LORE I SWEAR, sour then sweet dom leon, mirror sex, EMOTIONS, aftercare :3 + 1 bad pun

a/n: anon req'd reader w/ praise kink. i really thought i did something and then i read it and i wanted to die. it isn't my writing if i don't try turning smut into shitty poetry.

word count: 2.9k // read on ao3

“I’m apologizing now, aren’t I?”

“A little late for that,��Agent Kennedy,” you seethe. 

Your metronome heels keep time with the irate pounding of your heartbeat. This California Ritz-Carlton hallway stretches like the goddamn Shining and you can’t seem to get away fast enough from your husband. He’s too damn good at his job, and you’re too smart to pretend that this dance the two of you are playing at is anything but a distraction, an impediment.

You are a distraction. You’ve been an unwelcome one all night.

So you’d cut it short yourself.

One keycard slice through the sensor and the sanctuary of your hotel room opens up to you, messy with the aftermath of black-tie preparation. You step up to the vanity; plant your palms on its wooden surface and stare straight ahead as if to admire your ruined mascara. It’s a formality, really. It’s not as if you need the mirror to remind you what happened in this room. Tonight began with indulgent kisses afraid to smudge dress shirt collars, hands squeezed for courage, Leon in perpetual pursuit of the train of your gown. Big dreams.

“You wanna talk? We can talk.” Leon shuts the door with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” you hiss. You stare daggers at his reflection.

“Really?” His shoulders drop. “Then what was all that with the storming off, the- oh baby, don’t look at me like that.” 

Leon’s arms wrap around your middle while his nose buries itself in your diamond-laced neck. He’s good at that, that sneaking thing without leaving so much as a whisper to signal where he’s going. The higher-ups at the DSO call it stealth. You just want the man you married to tell you what the hell he’s doing before he makes a fool out of you. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear,” he whispers, kissing softly down your neck. “Didn’t mean it at all, I’m sorry. What’d I do?”

You scoff. 

He’s testing the waters. A rough thumb finds and starts running down the divot of your spine, thank you backless Mirror Palais ballgown. Pass the smoking gun back and forth, pretend not to see the shrapnel from the bullet holes. You don’t pay Leon any heed as you stoically unhook diamond pendants from your ears, and he frowns.

“I said I was sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t need to tell you what you did, Leon.” 

Shame simmers sickly and strong in the pit of your stomach. You teeter on the edge of snapping altogether and consider throwing his blankets on the floor for the night – you will, actually, as soon you take off all your evening regalia. In your haste, your nails end up nicking Leon’s nose when he tries to murmur another weightless apology.

The kisses stop leaching onto your collarbone. “Don’t play this game with me, sweetheart.” 

“So now you’re calling me immature?”   

“Isn’t that what you call running out of my work summit? Making me chase you down?” Leon counters, running his hands down your sides in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the situation. Thinly-veiled irritation finally seeps into his tone. “What exactly did I do?”

And gosh, does that get the tears going. He’s so blind it hurts.

You tug pins furiously out of your hair in an effort to keep an impending outburst at bay. “You practically had me on a leash!”

Not once had he let you out of his sight in that dreadful ballroom. In front of all those international representatives and agents, people whose reputations preceded them, Leon had kept you attached to him with a heavy hand on your waist, glued to his hip like an untrustworthy child he’d lose track of at a supermarket. Coughs had quickly turned to snickers behind your back. You’re no agent, sure, but you could expect to have some kind of autonomy, right? 

The guest badge you’d flung over the hotel room bed glints tauntingly now, respected by every security detail except the one whose chest your back is currently pressed against. It’s humiliating how untrustworthy, how incapable he made you look tonight.

Leon blinks. “You’re saying I think you can’t handle yourself?”

“You don’t have to. You showed me all night.” 

Tears drip down your cheeks when he relents, his arms lifting like fog over the Golden Gate, and if you’re finally free from his clutches, you might as well take off this suffocating dress. It’s gauzy and gorgeous and completely worthless despite the stack of bills Leon paid for it, however giddy you’d been when he’d brought it home. 

If only you could reach the tiny zipper perched on your tailbone. 

Leon, ever the perceptive one, however, never passes up an opening whether it be zipped or not. He’s got a handy index and thumb; he puts them to use. He’s your husband after all. 

“Right, okay,” he exhales sharply, tugging the chain as your back bows forward, “I did this all wrong. I thought you’d catch on when I should’ve just shown you instead.”

“Show me what?”

A hand inside your newly agape gown. A palm pivoting south to the curve of your hip, pressing, searching. Leon presses his lips to your neck in answer, but this time, it’s urgent in a way that doesn’t quite feel like remorse. He hisses.

“Tell me to stop and I fucking will, but this is my last resort considering how bad I seem to be with my words, sweetheart. How many times have I told you I’m sorry?”

“You-”

A squeeze on your hip. A direction. 

“I need a number.”

The door, your neck, seconds ago.

“...three.”

“And not one of them made it inside that pretty head of yours,” Leon scowls. “Doesn’t look like words are either of our strong suits. Chin up for me, doll, and pay attention ‘cause I’m only asking this once.”

So you do, you lift your face to meet mascara-rimmed eyes in the mirror along with Leon’s sapphire-blue ones that glint right behind, and his palm drifts up to cup your jaw from underneath. He tilts it back and forth. Kisses his teeth. 

“Tell me. How am I supposed to let my wife loose in a room full of criminals just like that?”

What?

Leon circles your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pulling away quickly. Too early to indulge in this kind of affection. “Thought I asked you something, doll.”

But you hesitate, and so Leon must disappear. His final instructions are to face forward.

He dives to the floor, locking rough fingers around your ankles only to slide them up to the backs of your shins. He goes under so quick that there’s a breeze; you’re granted mere seconds to watch Leon’s blond head duck underneath the floor-length train of your dress and by then, it’s far too late to notice the fire. 

Leon loves starting those.

He also doesn’t wait. Invisible flames lick up your bare legs from Leon’s dragon mouth. Red hot kisses trail up your thighs – he drops a sweet one on the inside of your right knee, makes you buckle momentarily – and these stubbled kisses of his have a tendency to sear any skin on their skyward path. You can’t remember when your elbows propped themselves on the vanity, out of instinct, maybe, to keep the floor of your stomach from falling out at the very first sneak of Leon’s tongue inside the drenched lace gusset of your panties. 

But you can’t afford to be surprised, can you? Not with the line of destruction he’s left behind on his way to his destination. They say it takes one to know one. 

You clutch the edge of the vanity’s shelf, suck down sobs in your throat fluttering into something indecent.

“I need you to talk to me,” he whispers with his lips pressed to your pussy. The vibration echoes up your spine, jerks your head back. “You’re all clammed up. Keeping secrets.”

Air gushes down your throat. “And you’re not?” 

“Of course I am, baby, but I’m explaining, aren’t I?” 

Kiss. Kiss. Suck. 

You keen with your mouth shut.

He noses at your clit, prompting you. “So, where’s your explanation?”

Another quality the DSO prides itself on is your husband’s ability to sweet-talk himself out of a tight spot. That seems to includes in between your legs. Your thighs clench together in a final attempt of defiance when his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Your reflection in the mirror starts to swim at the first swirl of Leon’s tongue, and he makes quick work of you with his goal being none other than to dangle the promise of more to come, literally. 

Thumbs tuck into sensitive folds, and you’re gone. Shaking at the first breach of Leon’s fingers inside you. You spread apart at his will. He dips into arousal now impossible to ignore, and when sparks finally light at the hot air Leon blows over your spasming pussy, he commits his second unforgivable sin of the night: ducking right back out at the crest of your orgasm.

You have principles. The mirror reflects Leon’s swollen lips, tousled hair damp with you when he rises from his knees, and above all this, you clench your teeth. Face forward. 

He wipes his mouth.

“That’s one.” 

The other two remain rhetorical.

You’re being lifted bridal-style when the seal on your mouth finally breaks. “Leon,” you tremble in his arms, “where are we?” The summit, the people; you chase his mouth for any explanation. “You’re working with criminals now?” 

“Yes and no. Arms up,” Leon rasps, and tugs down what remains of your gown, crashes his mouth onto yours. 

You taste yourself in his kiss. Surely that’s not an answer, is it?

“Tonight was a mission,” he continues in his feverish haste, quickly laying your naked body onto the bed before kissing down your breasts.

Pride gets tossed on the floor next to your undergarments, his crumpled dress shirt. 

“The DSO couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t become collateral for this assignment if things went south and I didn’t want to risk it. So I took you with me.” 

“You brought me to a- oh! ” 

Two thick fingers push into your sopping cunt. You squeal, clutch the sheets. Leon presses the ribbed flesh nestled deep inside you, carving out room for himself from his kneel at the foot of the bed. He gouges deep and you writhe. Your arousal shimmers on his fingers when he finally pulls them out and you find that have nothing to say about that.

“Go on,” he coos lowly. “Don’t get quiet now.” 

Your head whirls. “You sh-should’ve told me they were dangerous.”  

“And where do you think that would’ve gotten us, sweetheart? I didn’t want you panicking. Blowing cover. I had you to take care of and intel to gather, I couldn’t think straight myself. Letting you out of my sight could’ve meant losing you.”

Fuck. You don’t need a mirror to remember how antsy Leon had been before going down to the ballroom. 

Hands squeezed for courage. Hand on your waist. 

The vanilla and leather on his skin had reeked of nerves, and you? You’d written it off.

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Leon looks up at you now, eyes glinting in the dim light. There’s a new softness in their blue depths, a sincere apology. “I just wish you'd believe me.” 

By all intents and purposes, Leon Scott Kennedy is sorry.

There’s been a lapse in judgment. Your elbows sit you up from the bed to fix it. Cupping his cheek, you lean forward to meet Leon’s waiting mouth in a long overdue embrace, one he can melt into with relief. There’s no bitterness on your tongue now. Just sweetness in the seconds you take to breathe your forgiveness into him. The clink of his falling belt promises no punishment.

“But you can’t let me off the hook just yet,” Leon murmurs when he tugs free from your latch on his bottom lip, “I hurt you, angel, and I never wanted to. Tell me I can fix it.”

He can. Your husband can fix everything, the world included. You sigh your approval, yes, yes, more, because forgiveness feels incredible as he lays your shoulders down, sets your hips straight when you twist them the first time he teases his cock’s weeping head over the soaked seam of your pussy. 

“Don’t take your eyes off the mirror for a second,” Leon instructs.

He plants his palms on the sides of your head. You whimper; swear you won’t.

“I mean it. Watch yourself, and maybe then you’ll understand how crazy you drive me.”

So begins your descent. 

You’re drowning, crying for air when Leon sinks into the liquid warmth you’ve saved for him. There’s so much of him to take, tight, tight, tight – your mind is a melting record. You’re breaking. Can’t disappoint him again. When your overwhelmed cunt nearly pushes him out, Leon just chuckles. He cants his hips to compensate, goes at it again. That should be enough to tell you how the DSO’s finest agent never lets a detail go amiss. 

“The Belgium ambassador started tailing you by the fountain." 

And to your astonishment, he starts rattling off half the world map. 

“Got rid of him quick. Then there was a – oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me – Swedish agent, don’t remember what I did to him.” 

A roll of his hips. Your nails down his back. 

“Someone from Germany tried to dose your champagne. Another from Argentina, shit,” his thrusts grow erratic the longer the list grows, “two from Russia, a Japanese spy – perfect fucking pussy, oh my God…”

Your husband takes you on a trip around the globe. He’d traveled to the ends of the earth in that ballroom, kept your back bulletproof with just his hand, the one that was once a collar to you. Turns out being a Kennedy puts you on a hitlist; makes your blood run blue. 

“Too much!” you sob.

You can’t take the responsibility. 

But here in the dark, here with Leon, there’s just pleasure. Opulence. The back of his head is a blond crown in the vanity mirror, the diamonds on your breasts sparkle with each bounce from Leon’s cock slamming home. Even the gooey mess you’re leaving on the chiseled marble of his lower stomach shimmers. War paint from a battle won for you.

Your head falls away from the mirror and Leon guides it back without losing his rhythm. “Mm-mm. You need to see your face when you break.” 

Never has a threat sounded so loving on anyone’s lips, you imagine. 

Your hands tangle into his hair, you grow quiet, you clench. You’re close. This, he can feel.

His lips curve into a weary grin. “Wanted you to see why I had eyes on my baby all night. My pretty girl, all mine.”

Lucky you. 

That somehow does you in. Every word of praise Leon utters makes it clear that no, he did trust you, does trust you. He trusted you enough to know you could hold your own in that lion’s den downstairs, trusts now that you’ll forgive him for a misstep born of love. And with that realization, your pleasure rides helium high. 

“Shit, Leon!” you cry.

Electric pressure builds in your sensitive bud, the one Leon rubs frantically now. Gasps from your wide open mouth sweeten the air like perfume and Leon wishes he could breathe it all in, you’re beautiful when he turns you into a wailing mess. All for him.  

“This one’s two, angel,” he groans when you flutter around him. No way. 

His cock had put you in a trance, so warm and filling is it inside you. You’d forgotten about the deal entirely. 

Your cries increase precariously in pitch. “Oh, please, please, you can’t, Leon, I have to-” 

“Hold on!” 

Leon presses you into the sheets one last time to free the pretty songbird singing his name. You sprout wings in the looking glass.

The afterglow is golden. The sunset is long gone but it glows in your hotel room all the same, wrapped in silk sheets and Leon’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know?” he hums, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“What, all sweaty and gross?” You wouldn’t expect him to know. He’s gorgeous. Leon is gorgeous when he makes love to you.

He nods, laughing when you roll your eyes. “Really, you do. Enough that I had to spend half my mission clawing bad guys off you. But I got it finished, and so did you in the process, huh?” 

Leon drops a kiss to your forehead, murmuring one last I’m sorry, his fourth one.

Shit. 

You scramble to hide under the sheets, leaving him cocking his head after you in utter confusion. “Wait, wait, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do any more, Leon, I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Do any…?”

“You only left off on two!” 

Leon snorts. You soon feel a warm press on the top of your head: a sugary, schoolboy-sweet kiss.

“There you go, baby. That’s three. Apology accepted?”

And when you poke your head out of the covers to give Leon a kiss of your own, you make sure he knows it’s for apology number four.

He shouldn’t be so surprised you noticed. It’s not like you can take your eyes off him either.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[twinkleomorashi]

Hey so I thought I’d post one of my old fics to test the waters!! Camp omo anyone?

The second Kylie finishes explaining the rules of counselor hint to the campers I run as fast as I can to the trails to hide. I’ve been planning this spot since I was a kid and finally being able to do it was sending all sorts of adrenaline racing through my body, far past the normal levels one should have during hide and seek.

I scamper just a small ways past the trail entrance and climb the tallest oak tree I can find. The branch is broad and relatively comfortable, but hidden just out of sight of the path to the point where I was still in bounds, but barely noticeable even if you were looking pretty hard. I tuck the popsicle sticks that we’re gonna use for points in my bra strap as I cling to the trunk for extra support, smirking to myself. I check my watch and notice that the game is set to start in three, two, one.

Twenty minutes out of the hour go by and no one has found me yet. I’m pretty proud of myself. Definitely should’ve gone pee first though, but I guess it’s better than dehydration. I adjust myself on the branch a bit. I check my watch, still 39 minutes to go.

I honestly thought at least one group would’ve found my by now. I’m not even in stealth mode anymore. I keep having to move and adjust myself just to keep my steadily growing need to pee at bay. Ugh, I’m such an idiot. I wrap my legs around the branch and press into it as a substitute for using my hands to do so, since they’re what’s keeping me from falling out of the tree. It helps enough and I can’t help but laugh to myself because this whole situation is kind of funny. I’m gonna have to tell June first thing tomorrow. I know she won’t think it’s that funny and I’ll be laughing too hard to even tell it right, but that’s just the sort of thing that we do anyway.

As time slowly passes, it becomes less funny and more nerve wracking. My shirt is soaked in sweat as I keep shifting against the tree. I wipe the sweat from my hands onto my t-shirt before they shakily grab the trunk again. My brain is sending out about a million warning signals. I check my watch again.

“August!” a voice calls. I turn around and see a group, Lisa is leading them. I grit my teeth as I motion for her to come get the popsicle stick since I’m way too high up for any of her campers to reach.

“You okay?”, she asks, “You’re super pale.”

I laugh through my pain and hand her the popsicle stick.

“Yeah, fine. Just chose the worst possible time to have to pee.” I joke.

She laughs as I reassume position and let a small groan escape my lips. I contemplate just calling it quits and coming out of hiding, but now that a group found me it’d be unfair to the others. Besides, I can wait another ten minutes. Ugh, god, I’m shaking. I cling to the tree even tighter, more scared of falling than anything else. A wave of sheer desperation passes over me and I double over as I hold onto the tree as tight as I can.

“This is bad…” I mutter.

I shift more rapidly and check my watch again. The bark of the tree catches on my shin and scapes it as a squirm. I grit my teeth in pain and glance down to see a small trickle of blood running down my shin. I attempt to wipe it away using my other one, but the branch is too thick and I’m just scraping it up more. The stinging isn’t helping with my other predicament at all. I don’t know which pain to focus on more and my body is saying “leg” causing my brain to think it can stop worrying about the other thing. I try to override it by pressing against the tree again, but just the movement from getting into that position is enough to make me accidentally… a little.

“Fuck!” I hiss, immediately clasping my hand over my mouth as I realize what I just said and checked to see if any campers who could’ve heard me were around.

I tentatively glance down at my khaki shorts which now have a small, but existent wet spot on them. I check my watch. Five minutes. Come on, August, just five minutes. Five minutes and then you can run into the nature center and use the bathroom and it’s gonna be fine.

The mere thought causes another leak to prematurely escape.

“No..!” I whimper.

Okay, okay, don’t panic, it’s fine. I can hold it. Of course I can, I haven’t had an accident since I was in second grade! Besides, the more miserable I am now the funnier the story becomes anyway right? Tears start to line my eyes as I squeeze my legs around the branch even tighter. I have to go so bad that my vision is blurring.

“Come on! Come on!” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from crying. I feel a spurt run down my leg, it stings my cut causing my to wince and pain and causing another leak to escape.

“Please no!” I plead though the massive lump in my throat.

In a panic I check my watch for the millionth time. Two minutes. My begin to hyperventilate as I try to myself that I’m gonna be fine while knowing that that was getting less and less likely by the second.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s okay! I can- I can-” I stutter as my bladder suddenly lurches.

“Agh-! I- I-”

I break down. Hard. I collapse against the tree trunk and shakily groan as my legs spastically quiver and my body gives in. I can hear it pattering onto the dead leaves below as my legs and shorts become soaked with piss. My breathing is all over the place, quick and shallow as I try not to cry like a wimp but also taking in deep breaths of sheer relief as even my socks get soaked through. As I finally finish up and reluctantly peek down at my shorts. Shit. There’s no hiding what just happened. It’s bad. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now. I can’t just go back to my group like this.

I decide that I’ll stay in tree as long as I can manage and then sneak back in my cabin and shower once all my campers and my co counselor ere asleep.

I can hear groups walking back to their cabins. The trails are right outside of the we’re the cabins are and I wait until I year all three camps living there go by before I let down my guard and relax. Well, as much as one can relax while hiding in an oak tree in piss-soaked pants. I hear the rumbling of Addie’s golf cart in the distance and think nothing of it until it starts to sound less and less distant. It suddenly stops and I hear footsteps walking down the trail. This isn’t happening. No way can I let her see me like this. I duck back into my hiding spot.

“August m!” she calls, not like she’s looking for me, but like she sees me and is asking me what the hell I’m doing.

“You need to get back to your cabin.” she says, a bit more sternly this time. God, she's terrifying when she's stern. Sweat’s pouring down my back. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

“August?”,she calls, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” I weakly respond.

“Why are you in a tree?”

“Counselor hunt.”

“You know that ended nearly half an hour ago, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay follow up question, why are you still in a tree?”

“Because I can’t go back to my cabin.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you care?” I huff in embarrassment.

Addie sighs and leans against the tree.

“August, I’ve been here long enough that I was your counselor. You’re one of my kids whether you like it or not and knowing how much you love this place I know there’s a good reason why you’re hiding in a goddamn tree and not with your group. I mean, no offense to her but your co has no idea what the hell she’s doing.”

I take a deep breath as I blink back my tears and hop off the branch. I can hear Addie not-so-subtly force back a snicker as she sees me.

“I’m sorry!” she corrects herself, still smirking.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. But I can’t go back to my cabin, especially now that my kids are showering.” I blush.

“God, you really are still one of my kids, Pennington.”

“I was sixteen when you had me, stop acting like your some big shot who raised me or something.” I roll my eyes.

“Excuse you, I totally raised you. And stop acting so pissed off, pun intended, I still haven’t forgotten, y’know.”

I blush.

“You’re eighteen and not a camper so I can joke about it with you now. The massive crush you had on me, I mean.”

“I-I-I- What are you talking about?!” I say as I feel my face turning red.

“Hey I could've said have. Don’t play dumb, piss-pants, did you actually think I wouldn’t notice? You're loud as hell, I could hear you talking to Elle about how you wanted me ‘to take you away on my lesbian bike’. Which for the record, I do have a motorcycle and I’ve been calling it my lesbian bike ever since.”

“Jesus Christ.” I mutter in embarrassment.

“Anyway, I can’t take you away on my lesbian bike, but you can settle for my gay golf cart on a joyride to the nurses office for now.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, I can’t just leave you here like that.

“Th-thanks, but I think I'll just wait it out. I don't wanna ruin your seats or anything.”

My face is practically burning from pure embarrassment.

“Whatever, I'm not the one who has to deal with it.”

“Then who is?”

“You, dumbass, it's your piss isn't it?”

“You haven't changed a bit.” I say as I crack a smile.

“You don’t mess with perfection, kid.”

[likemymask]

One Piece Daemon AU

Presented with only slight spelling corrections and some elaborations, the mess of a One Piece Daemon/His Dark Materials AU that would not leave me alone and would only let me work on it at 1-3AM.

Also now I’m writing snippets for it just like my Gundam Wing and Star Trek daemon AU. Because.

Luffy: sea king with Conqueror Haki so they can’t be controlled. Separated but not because that’s as free as you can get. Fuck yea, she’s in north blue chilling the fuck out (heh) half the time and being absolutely chaotic as shit the other half. Her attitude is diametrically opposed to what Luffy is doing at the time. LOL she runs/swims into Shanks when Luffy’s still barely a pirate so he has no idea (not that the marines do either) one time. This 2000ft tall monster is squinting at him, and he thinks he’s about to get ate and then she goes “oh you’re so much smaller now!” Cause of course she spent her formative years as a baby version of his daemon. The entire crew is goddamn losing it, cause what kind of monster is this that even Red Hair’s Haki can’t control it, until Shanks yells out her name and then everyone loses it further still. I have decided Eastern dragon aesthetic but water/earth theme as opposed to Kaido’s air/fire theme. Still blue, but blue-green, tiger stripes cause camoflage and also badass and maybe she settles after Luffy meets Zoro’s daemon *whistles*

Zoro: tiger obviously normal colors or green and black cause why the fuck not, Zoro is not into stealth really. ”The only one who can call me stupid is me. “ “.....stupid” Cat vs sword fight ensues. Can be found cuddling Chopper when Zoro’s tired, super sloshed, both.

Nami: monkey? Lemur: small, fast, quick hands, caring but only when you prove you deserve it. Absolutely torments Zoro’s when she’s pissed because tigers can’t normally climb fucking main masts but a) she parkours and b) when has that ever stopped Zoro/her? Likes to hang out in the tree grove, absolutely pick pockets people while Nami plays distraction.

Robin: cat some kind of cat not big CARACAL. Looks aloof but absolutely ready to be ridiculous at any opportunity.

Franky: dog or dolphin. Something excitable loyal ready to throw down Newfoundland? Big, friendly, over-excitable, likes water and sailing...yes.

Usopp: Corvid or monkey; curious, intelligent, stubborn, inventive, tool solving/using. Lives in groups/troops and cares for others. Probably corvid, too similar to Nami otherwise. Crow most likely.

Sanji: swan. Black, and absolutely a viper and very sorry about Sanji’s attitude towards woman cause she’s more refined about it. Same intensity though. Will bite the shit out of you. Tiger vs swan fight, GO. Do also groom each other though cause human affectionate displays are stupid sometimes.

Fishmen don’t have daemons its another conflict and excuse for racism.

Law: wolf but like starved and Eurasian crazy with it. LONG leggos. Spiky black fur around the head, grey black white speckled cause T R A U M A

Ace: was a fire hawk, no actual fire but red as hell and BIG tail and wings. Her species not liked on most islands cause they don’t leave once they’re settled. They stand their ground. More angst ha ha. Never met settled Luffys daemon because I’M A MONSTER.

Sabo: never settled until he learned Ace was dead and then she settled as fire hawk because trauma and angst and also he knows who he is now. Not being settled was useful for a while when he did infiltration etc but now they’re both happy/sad about it.

Garp. Big dog. Bull mastiff dog. Not good with kids only with attacking things and defending but very loyal. Also big. “ Bullmastiffs are also difficult even for adults to control, so they aren’t a good choice if your child wants to help walk the dog. They like to please and crave attention, but they’re so big that even a well-intentioned nudge can end up hurting small children. ” HMMMMM RINGS A BELL, THIS DOES

Chopper: also no daemon or if so then monkey because HANDS. OH BOI THAT MUST HAVE BEEN A FUN THING. EAT SOME FRUIT, WAKE UP WITH A SOUL. Wait no people think he’s a pet. No daemon then.

Mihawk: literally whatever Shank’s daemon is he insists this is why they’re friends while Mihawk wine aunts in the background. He’s more refined though than Shanks and his soul (this is not a challenge). Like absolutely cold as ice until he cracks a pun, but no one believes the victim cause no way Mihawk would do that. Soooo proud, regal, loyal but willing to have a good time. Some kind of dog or cat. Big and fast and POWER. Could do big cat to be more like Zoro or a dog/canid to foil it. Maned wolf?

Vivi: it’s lazy to say her bird Caracue I can’t spell it’s one am but imma do it. KAROO HOW THE FUCK DID I MISSPELL THAT.

Crocodile: big fuck off alligator cause fuck you that’s why. HOLY FUCK I FORGOT HE HAD THE BANANA ONES IN HIS CASINO THAT’S GREAT

Logias turn to same element so Ace’s daemon is now a literal actual fire hawk, fuck the history books I’m writing this shit.

Don fuck face Flamingo: is what it is but like Kipo And the Age of Wonderbeasts it got TEETH, cause anything that survived acid water and shit is not cool. In fact, you know what, she’s albino and thinks that makes her special, honey you just don’t got shrimp vitamins, you buffoon of a bird.

All the dino Zoans are modern descendant of those animals so chickens. Or birds. Chickens would be so goddamn funny especially the 3 foot tall fluffy ones...fuck what’re they called(Brahmas). Oh wait. Emus. Ohhhhhhh fuck emus as an option.

Mammoth Zoan can have a Mammoth daemon because I want to see that on a ship.

(Makino) Bartender lady I can’t remember her name starts with m capybara cause she’s chill as shit and friend shaped. 

Dadan: is not friend shaped but is friend. Big fuck off bear or buffalo or wildebeest

Brooke: Laboon, Lampoon whatever Moby Dick. There’s some trauma, they had to leave him, but they didn’t want to and Brooke offered to stay but Laboon thought he’d be fine. Spoiler alert He Is Not. No one is fine.

Ohhhhhhh fuck bad good idea: Rogers daemon also a Sea King but the marines never goddamn figured it out, hoooooo my gods Shanks is having goddamn flashbacks. 

Momo and Kaido both have Eastern dragon daemons cause fake fruit.mythical zoan fruit but Momos is the size of a gecko and black so she’s hide-able. Kaido’s isn’t as big but is still Fuck Off huge. Red because I said so. 

Beastmen also do not have daemons because fuck the amount of significant characters in One Piece

Cora(zon): also had a wolf, because yay trauma and repeats and trauma bonding!But she was like, pretty yellow white and dog-ish up until the moment she ripped your throat out for offending her/harming her pack. Law learned much from her about appearances, being underestimated, and then for the most part did the exact opposite.

Slime man: *Aka Trebol* has a hagfish cause fuck him and Doflamingo

Boa: her snake weapon thing. Big noodley boy. The skull is for A E S T H E T I C

   Ace's daemon named Picaro: Spanish for naughty/badly behaved and that is a synonym for rogue cause MOMMA'S BOI and I keep misreading Rouge as rogue cause PIRATES, and this way it's a little better than naming the fire hawk Red though Ace does call her that sometimes .          You know what, he has the same daemon as Rouge/mom actually cause stubborn enough to not go into labor for 20 months is bonkers and that shit deserves recognition. Also because FUCK the number of characters in One Piece.              Celestial Dragons don't have special daemons but they do splice/separate cause they're fuckers that's why              AU of AU        Luffy's daemon close enough to WRECK MARINEFORD'S SHIT THAT'S RIGHT BABEY ACE LIVES, ASL REUNION AND SUCH          Sabo's daemon settles as a dog but one of the CRAZY breeds, like poodle or husky.

AU OF AU PART TWO: originally when thinking about a One Piece daemon AU Luffy was gonna have a cheetah; long, fast, use recoil to increase speed and change directions, males live in groups with their brothers and are highly affectionate. Tendency to run into walls. Has a fur pattern presentation named King Cheetah, looks like a more Armament Haki version.

[lapishasproblems]

“You two can’t be serious.” (Post-reveal love square fic)

<Previous Part [PART THREE] Next Part>

[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

(Original idea right here by @livanarose , ps, I never told you how grateful I am for letting me use your idea so thank you, thank you so much :)))

My self-esteem is so goddamn low, I thought the notes were going to drastically dip right after the first one. BUt NoPE. So thank you to everyone who are still reading. Believe it or not, I still read the comments every damn time. It brightens up my entire day, yall. You’re the reason I’m even still writing.

One person mentioned that there are not many people who write fics about the aftermath of the reveal back in the previous part. Well, for that, you might want to thank the person who gave me the inspiration for this fic ;))

Alright, enough with the babbling. Please enjoy this next part (I wrote partially at the movies. I regret nothing)

~~~

“MODEL ADRIEN AGRESTE’S GIRLFRIEND FINALLY REVEALED.”

“YES! YES! I WIN! MARINETTE STYLE, BOO-YAH!”

Plagg took it as a chance to mock him. “Come on, Adrien. You’re not letting this girl beat you again, right?”

“That’s rude,” Tikki mentioned.

“I know.”

“No, I mean to Marinette. She has a name, you know.”

Adrien groaned. Pushing back the pink chair he was sitting on. Sure, he was sick of losing to Marinette all the time, but he could never hold back the smile that starts to blossom everytime the girl beats him. Whether it was a video game, or an akuma attack, or anything, really. The fact: Adrien likes getting his ass beaten by this girl, in whichever form she’s in.

“Alright, Agreste, ready for round two?” Marinette turned.

Adrien smirked, ready to test his luck again. “Absolu—“

“Marinette?”

The girl turned just in time to spot her mother pop her head through the trapdoor, a plate of croissants in her hand. The two kwamis that were lounging on the table moved to hide behind Adrien’s back.

“Your croissants are ready.”

Marinette put down her controller and went over to get the plate from her mother’s hands, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks a lot, Mom.”

Sabine smiled back at her daughter and turned to the blonde boy still sitting with a controller in his hand. “Adrien, will you be staying for dinner?”

Will you be staying forever? Marinette thought briefly before shaking herself awake from it.

The boy nodded. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is,” Sabine nodded, turning to Marinette. “Come down for dinner soon, dear.”

“We will, Mom.”

The baker’s wife nodded before disappearing through the trapdoor again, closing it on her way down.

Marinette straightened from her crouching position before waking over with a plate of croissants in her hand. The two kwamis who were hiding earlier came out from behind Adrien’s back and zoomed away to the direction of the pink chaise lounge nearby.

Marinette and Adrien have been dating for a couple of weeks now. So were Ladybug and Chat Noir. This far, the plan worked perfectly, no flaws. Sure, Marinette wasn’t a really good actor and Adrien constantly recieved death glares from the girl when he nearly let the truth slip, but nobody suspected a thing. Everyone was oblivious.

It didn’t take long for the media to find out about Adrien’s girlfriend. What took forever was for them to find just who this girl is, exactly as planned. Adrien (and Marinette) were in the news today. As the boy expected, the headline, in bold.

The plan aside, Marinette was beyond glad that everything worked out. Adrien often stayed at her place for dinner, finally feeling love and acceptance since the last dinner he had with his mother. Marinette of the other hand received advices and feedbacks on her designs from Gabriel Agreste. Video games, holding hands, kissing, movies together, and little cuddle sessions were the other little things she loved.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were pretty much the same, just with a little more cat puns and flirting and a little less ice cream dates and talking at school. Akuma attacks were no longer excuses for Chat to see the lady of his dreams. What for? They meet each other everyday at school. But those times they spend in battle with each other were also reminders of how strong their bond was.

“Did you make these?”

The question brought Marinette back to the present as she placed the baked good-filled plate on her table before sitting on the empty chair next to Adrien.

“Yeah. I just asked Mom to watch over them while they bake,” she shrugged, picking one warm pastry. “How did you know that, though?”

Adrien smiled, picking one croissant. “By now I know that everytime I come over, you bake stuff for me.”

Marinette stiffened, her cheeks suddenly burning. The girl suddenly found her pink shoes interesting, not wanting to meet the pair of green eyes that were staring at her intently. She picked at the warm, fresh pasty in her hands, unable to function properly.

Finally, the girl eyed the croissant in Adrien’s hand.

“Uhm, well...is it good?”

Adrien nodded.

“Y-you haven’t even good it yet, how do you know it’s eaten?” she blurted before realizing her mistake, correcting it quickly. “I-I mean, you haven’t even eaten it yet, how do you know it’s good?”

Adrien chuckled. I wish it could be like this forever.

“I don’t need to eat it to know it’s good, Bugaboo. Everything you make seems to be good, whether it’s your baking or your design.”

Marinette was sure her face looked like a big tomato now. She didn’t even bother eating the croissant anymore. She simply covered her face with her free hand and shut her eyes, facing the other way, too embarrassed to even look at the blonde.

Adrien on the other hand, wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to coax her to start playing again before Sabine calls the both of them downstairs for dinner. He eyed Marinette’s chaise lounge, finding Tikki and Plagg there, giggling uncontrollably. Well, Tikki actually looked like she wanted to help the flustered girl, but Plagg was holding her back, the two giggling all the while.

The model leaned forward, taking Marinette’s hands. “Hey.”

“Adrien, don’t—“

“Uh, sorry to interrupt this beautiful interaction.”

The third voice brought both Marinette and Adrien to their senses, turning to the chaise lounge where the cat kwami was eagerly trying to catch their attention, which he succeeded in doing. The ladybug kwami had flown over to the window, looking at whatever is out there, if not the Parisian landscape.

Tikki finally turned to the two.

“It seems that Paris needs you both right now.”

~~~

Ladybug leapt to a rooftop, studying the akumatized victim not far from the Eiffel Tower, as if looking for something, her back facing the red clad superhero. The victim was a teenage girl around her age, with a black bodysuit and platinum blonde hair tied back into a tight ponytail. She had something like a staff in her hands.

“What do we have here, Bugaboo?”

The girl turned, finding her partner standing casually behind her.

“Let’s get closer, see what we’re working with here.”

Chat Noir nodded and the two heroes leaped from rooftop to rooftop, looking at the damage the victim caused around the Parisian streets. Ladybug swore she caught sight of people in other black bodysuits running like ninjas around the streets, as if looking for something while she threw her yo-yo for another momentum.

“She’s turning people into these spy-looking things, My Lady,” Chat blurted, still using his baton to leap around.

“Clearly.”

The duo stopped close enough to inspect and listen to the akuma victim better, but not too close that she would immediately spot them and pounce.

“Yes...yes! My minions, find Adrien Agreste and bring him to me!”

Ladybug eyed her partner. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

The woman with the black bodysuit and platinum hair turned around, finding the red clad superhero about to leave her hiding place and strike, looking like a deer in headlights.

Ladybug froze. Not because she just missed her chance for a stealth attack, but because the victim had these ugly pair of sunglasses on her face. As a designer, the blue-haired girl took her time to flinch.

“Ladybug! How nice of you to join us!” The woman sighed in delight. “I’m the Paparazzi and I have a special mission for you.”

“Yeah?” The girl spinned her yo-yo as a shield. “Do tell me.”

“Go and find Adrien Agreste’s girlfriend for me. What was her name again? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Ladybug scoffed, tensing up all the while. “And why would I do that?”

“Because you have no right to decide.”

“Wha—“

“LOOK OUT!”

Ladybug was ready for an attack, deflecting it with her yo-yo, but before she realized anything happened, she was up in the air, catching a swift black shape beforehand, taking her for a leap. Once they landed on a different rooftop, she turned to look at her savior.

“Thanks, kitty.”

“No problem,” he shrugged, pulling out his baton. “Mind telling me what you did that angered this akuma victim?”

“Wasn’t this your fault? She was looking for you!”

“You too.”

“Doesn’t matter—“

“AHA! THERE YOU ARE!” the Paparazzi turned and spotted the two on a rooftop, not far from where she was standing. “And with Chat Noir too. I shall make the both of you my minions.”

The akuma victim raised her sunglasses and Chat Noir quickly looked away, closing his partner’s eyes with his free hand.

“Don’t look at her eyes, she’ll turn you into one of her ninjas,” Chat warned, grabbing her cheek and urging her to look away with him.

“Where’s the akuma?”

“Purr-haps the sunglasses,” Chat Noir shrugged.

“Great, I’ll try to distract her while you use your cataclysm,” she replied, ignoring the pun.

“As you wish, My Lady,” Chat Nor replied before leaving her on the rooftop, leaping to another building using his baton.

Left alone, the red clad superhero racked her brain, trying to find a plan.

“LADYBUG!”

Without looking at where the voice was coming from, she groaned, extending her yo-yo to get as far away from the Paparazzi as possible. Just as she was ready to swing herself away from the rooftop she was standing on, a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her down and holding her wrists.

The blue-haired closed her eyes shut, knowing that she’d be unable to fight if she opened them and looked at her opponent’s.

“Come on Ladybug, join my army,” the akuma victim said. “All you have to do is look for that girl for me. I’d even accept her alive or dead.”

Ladybug turned her head to the left, not wanting to be face-to-face with the Paparazzi, despite the fact that her eyes were still shut tightly.

“Or, I can just take these—“

The heroine felt a hand on her right earlobe.

“NO!”

“—and you don’t even have to be one of my minions.”

Her opponent’s hand took the earring on her right ear, making Ladybug thrash and squirm within her grip, her transformation slowly dropping.

“Mind if I join in?”

The Paparazzi looked around, trying to find the source of the third voice. But before she could even pinpoint the person she’s looking for, a black-gloved hand reached for her sunglasses from behind, immediately turning it to dust. The akuma victim quickly found her attacker, facing the other way, letting Ladybug finally open her eyes safely.

Despite the fact that her vision was still blurry, she should’ve been able to see the akuma anywhere, but she couldn’t find it.

“Wrong target, My Lady,” someone shouted from behind the opponent that was still pinning her down. “It’s not the sunglasses.”

Ladybug took the chance while her opponent was distracted with Chat Noir and grabbed her earring from the Paparazzi’s hand, putting it back on her right ear. The red clad superhero was sure that the platinum-haired villain was going to go back and focus on her, but she was wrong. Paparazzi stood up and charged at Chat Noir, who was still looking away.

“CHAT NOIR!”

And everything seemed to go slowly when the Paparazzi whacked Chat Noir with her staff, so strong that the force was enough to drive Chat to the edge of the rooftop.

“NO!”

And Ladybug saw as Chat lost his balance and fell.

~~~

I was honestly expecting a lot of diabetes-worth fluff but this turned out to be a somewhat angst. I just let the ideas float, man. This wasn’t planned.

Bruh, the plan was just to create phase three but here we are.

Again, thank you for the love you all have shown for this fic. The previous parts recieved lots of notes and there is nobody else I can thank but you all. You guys keep me alive and writing.

But honestly, I suck at writing fights. I had to rack my brain to come up with this certain akuma victim with those certain powers. I also had to think intensively to come up with those fighting scenes.

Okay so I’d like to apologize for taking two (one and a half?) days before I continue. I’m watching the Promised Neverland (thanks to the person who recommended it to me in the other post, ps, I LOVE IT SO FAR!) and I’ve been so distracted. Do forgive me.

I’ve also been thinking to start mentioning people who want to keep up with the fic. So give me a “:))” if you’d like to be mentioned for the next parts.

Alright, that was part three for all of you! Thanks for keeping up with the story! Anyone up for part four? Don’t forget to leave your thoughts, advices, and feedbacks down there! I’d love to hear from everyone :))

[archonssun]

Don’t Take it to Heart

Chapter Twelve

WC: 1212

Prompto tried his best to hide his tears. Everyone saw them, regardless. Just listening to the sound was enough to break his companions’ hearts. That feeling was closely followed by feelings of rage, toward Pax.

Why couldn’t she just let Prompto help her?! He had just been trying to keep her safe, right?! So why did she react the way she had?!

Their questions were never answered, however, because she never returned. They waited for hours. Hours turned into days. But still, she never showed up. At some point, they had to move on, right?

And that’s exactly what they did. Noct and his companions travelled all across Leide as the Chosen King was being tested by Ramuh. It ultimately ended in a showdown with daemons in a dungeon, but without Pax … 

Ever since she disappeared, the group had lacked something -- something they had taken for granted when she was there: she had brought that little spark of life into camp. She had always been well-matched for everyone, taking no shit from either Gladio or Noctis, pitting her wits against Ignis’ on the daily.

Never in his entire life had Prompto felt such crippling guilt. When Pax hadn’t returned that night, or any of the days following, he felt something inside him break. He was no longer the sunshine of the group; no jokes or puns fell from his lips, and even his laugh had become scarce.

After only a few days of her absence, the four had reclaimed the Regalia. While it was supposed to be a joyous occasion, as now they could continue on their journey, it was a day far from filled with happiness. Especially once the guys were told what had happened in their absence from Lestallum.

Prompto sat in the front seat, staring down at his lap. For once, he didn’t feel the need to take copious amounts of pictures of everything they passed. No, his mind was preoccupied with Pax. The look she had given him before she left was seared into his brain; he saw it whenever he closed his eyes.

“Noct,” Ignis’ voice broke the blond from his musings, and he looked up to see another floating fortress. With a short nod from the prince, Ignis pulled over in Old Lestallum, dropping off Iris before the group of guys set out to take down yet another Imperial base.

***

Pax was hidden very well, considering. Her blue eyes watched as soldier after soldier passed her by, thanking the gods that she had found this spot before they had seen her. Getting into an active base was hard enough without having to think about hiding from any of the inhabitants.

Once the soldiers were out of earshot, Pax slipped from her spot, racing across the concrete with nary a sound. It was as she was approaching the Magitek generator that everything went to hell. With one explosion, her carefully laid plan had been destroyed. Anger overtook her being as she straightened from her crouched position.

I swear I’m gonna kill whoever did that, she growled to herself as she forewent stealth in favor of speed, her legs carrying her from one end of the base to the other in record time. She had expected to find some disgruntled civilians who had broken in, or even Cor and the remnants of the Kingsglaive, but the sight that met her eyes caused her to growl once more.

A mop of blond hair was flipping around the battlefield, along with someone much taller than Pax. Even with their backs to her, she knew.

“You motherfuckers!” she howled, jumping into the battle with her short swords slicing at every enemy they encountered. Her shout caused the two men to turn to her, their brows knit in confusion at her appearance. “I leave you guys for a few days, and you go and fuck up my plans!”

She didn’t wait for them to respond as she finished taking down the last Magitek soldier. As its body disintegrated, Noct came racing into the small courtyard. When his eyes landed on Pax, his body froze, a look of relief filling his features at seeing her alive and well.

“Pax,” he said, only to be hushed by the harsh look in her eyes. It caused him to stop short of what he had been about to say, but for a reason he hadn’t expected. When she had given him that look, he hadn’t been filled with fear -- not like the last few times. No, this time, it had filled him with a feeling of remorse, or something like it. But he didn’t know why. Unsure how to react to her sudden appearance, Noct could only stand in stunned silence as she approached Gladio and Prompto.

“Hey there, missy,” Gladio said, a smirk pulling at his lips as the girl approached him. Drawing back her fist, she swung, the punch landing squarely on the brute’s jaw.

“That’s what you get for interrupting, you son of a bitch!” she growled, breaths coming in heavy pants as she glared at the shield. Then, turning her gaze to the blond, she clicked her tongue. However, instead of decking the poor boy like she had with Gladio, she only walked away, presumably to get her temper under control. She couldn’t let them see her like this -- she wouldn’t.

Pax took in deep breaths, a hand to her chest as her back faced the group of guys. They could only watch as she calmed herself down, then as she approached them with a scary look on her face.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“We should be asking you that little miss runaway,” Gladio shot back. Oh, shit. Whenever the shield’s voice took on that tone, everyone knew shit was about to go down. Pax picked up on the tone and sent an amused glance to the shield. Yet she said nothing, which further irritated the Amicitia.

“What’re you grinning about?” he asked harshly. He grabbed her jacket’s collar and pulled her close to himself. “Answer the goddamn question!”

“Gladio--”

“First, you disappear on us when the kid was just trying to help you, now you’re pissed off that we ‘ruined’ your plans?! How selfish can you be?!”

“Gladiolus, I suggest you put me down,” Pax’s voice at that moment sent a shiver down everyone’s spines, it was frigid. Even the ever impervious Gladiolus Amicitia felt a trickle of fear slide down his throat. He did as she had suggested, setting her on her feet gently. Giving him a slight nod, Pax turned around just as Ignis walked up.

“Pax?” It was a sight to see. Ignis, usually so composed and cool, rushed up to his sister, engulfing her in a tight hug. With a small smile, Pax returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Ignis’ back. The two stood in one another’s arms, just basking in the presence of each other.

“Where have you been?” Ignis’ calm voice broke the comfortable silence that had descended upon the two, and the man could feel Pax’s body tense before she tried to pull away. Gripping her forearms tightly, he looked her in the eyes. “Oh, no. You’re not getting away until you tell me what you’ve been doing.”

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 9 aka “Let’s go lesbians!”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Melody and Julienne join The Party! A singer, a dancer, and an actor make a triple threat baby!

Though the true triple threats out there are the people who can do all those things. I would put myself as an example but said Real Threats are people who can do it all well

…y’know we haven’t seen RGB dance but… it would not surprise me. My god. That’s why he’s so strong. He dances

Maybe the real triple threat was the object-heads we met along the way

Still on that opening page though, have I talked enough yet about Melody’s dialogue? Because a glissando is an excellent way to convey and agreeable hum.

Wow parents really were right that tv would rot my brain look at this poor doggo

Yo yo yo that’s the snail from the Pool of Tears in chapter 2!

So all I need to do to get Inspired is to lick a technicolor dream-snail, got it

Oh damn it, it’s a bright idea

Ey the picture frame clouds are back. Wow they are moving fast- heckuva wind

Oh yeah and TOby’s there. Enjoy the view lil buddy

Looks like the armchair Hero slept in at the House of Paint’s become more realized as a What. Wonder why it’s heading down to/past the Pool of Tears

How often do you think someone in this world goes to, like, hang their coat only to realize the coat-racks missing and just go “oh damnit it went sentient and wandered off. Well. Inconvenient. But godspeed I guess”

So I know the ball and chain Hero’s fashioned for her TV guide (FUCKIN JUST REALIZED THAT ONE) is rolled like like a yarn ball, but my boat-brain looked and it and said “monkeyfist. Big ol’ monkeyfirst for swinging around. Throw RGB REAL far”

How is modmad so good at speechbubbles. RGB’s shaken text/box is hilarious. Melody’s notes are connected by a beam, she’s beaming

rekted for the 11th time in 4 days

This is a good opportunity to take a moment for me to appreciate modmad’s HANDS. RGB’s hands are always exquisitely drawn. Like, the third panel especially, goddamn. Second appreciation is how damn expressive RGB is. I gushed about my love for the wives designs last chapter, I guess it’s finally time for RGB’s turn

For having NO ACTUAL FACE the man is supremely easy to read as a character. He doesn’t have eyes, yet you know when he’s smiling for real anyway! Looking back at the first few pages, that’s SUCH a fakey-fakers smile to the genuine ones seen throughout the rest of the comic. Combined with his body language- just fantastic

And then! The drooling! The initial reason I wanted to do a more thorough reread was when I realized the colors correspond to emotions and whatever RGB is feeling most strongly in any given moment, those are the colors he drips. Which is! Fantastic! It gives yet another avenue by which to see RGB’s character and an excellent supplement when the man is, again, emoting with NOT-A-FACE

His antenna crack me up. They start the comic so straight. So ironed out and spiffy and like 3 days into his newest Hero they are chronically crinkled up like tissue paper. It gives him this impression of being completely frazzled at all times, which. accurate

Back to your daily scheduled TPoH though; eeey, Assok’s speech-texture has some black triangles in here for copying Julienne’s words!

Yikes. RGB’s tried to take Heroes back before huh. Considering he hasn’t given up on his “save this doomed world” plan after all this time, how absolutely/repeatedly disastrous was “get my friend back home” for him to concede it as impossible??

Aaaand we’re off to the races Market!

RGB: LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO!!

BIG DAMN SMOOCH! YES!! LOVELY! Also Julienne’s resting the blunt side of her knife on Melody’s head and I’m die

Melody’s dialogue is the symbol for a “natural” note. She’s replying “naturally, duh” to RGB’s question

If Julienne wasn’t already married to Melody I’d seduce that big instrument lady myself

Accept the compliment Assok! You did good!!

Random thought and back to RGB being stealth STRONK- Hero found the [—–] to be heavier than it looks and yet RGB is walking around with it all tied to one foot completely unimpeded

Im fucking snorting. The way RGB says “…that’s the sea.” Like he can’t believe Hero is being this dumb. If course it’s the sea! Obviously!

NO RGB, NOT OBVIOUSLY

D’you think if RGB saw how water and seas behave in our world he’s be equally bewildered as I was the first time I read this page

So I took the time to look up Julienne’s name and now im BIG MAD. Julienne is a way of cutting things into long thin strips! It’s a fucking culinary pun!!

Y-yo… that’s just a big damn eye.

AND/OR an impact crater. Except the ground they’re standing on wouldn’t be flat if that were the case

But it is also DEFINITELY a fairy ring, as the next page describes this is EXACTLY how fairy rings work

K so this entire page is just that one verse from “Cover is Not the Book”

Bruh. This looks like myelin sheaths on nerve axons. Myelin is an insulator just like [—–] is described to be! Except the metaphor ends there because myelin is supposed to be there and protects the axon/accelerates signal speed. Assok is basically chewing nodes of ranvier into existence instead of the breaks between myelin forming naturally. And that’s my degree put to use for the week

Also HEY. I had the thought earlier that the sick tree might be a Yggdrasil thing but didn’t put said thought down cause there wasn’t a whole lot behind it save for “big tree, big big tree”. But NOW it turns out there was a small SERPENTINE creature CHEWING AT ITS ROOTS

ASSOK’S THE NIDHOGGR

Everyone: RGB smart?? as if. RGB: EXCUSE-

absolutely huge mood there buddy

HEY MODMAD. TURN ON YOUR LOCATION WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT PAGE 162 FORESHADOWING HOW RGB BELIEVES THE SUCCESSFUL HERO’S JOURNEY HAS TO END

Hero is the flower that will die even though she’s saved the World >:(

“all flowers must die to complete their purpose” is also a funny phrase to be throwing around when Negative’s presence sprouts blue roses which shatter apart when he leaves

“Flowers need roots to live”, further implicating Negative as the (ha ha) root cause of the blue roses and vines. and we again see here, the flowers die but the branches they bloomed from remain

ALSO consider the flowers seen around characters heads when they dream/are asleep- those flowers also must go away when people wake up

Taking this a step further, Negative can be further associated with RGB’s subconscious/being unconscious by his flower-spawning

Lesbians Fight TV-Dad for Custody of Daughter

It’s “make fun of RGB hour” on TPoH and im living. Sharp, sour, cheesy poop indeed

Gotta remember to contrast this against when Hero actually drinks his colors later

gotta remember that this is 4 PEOPLE THAT RGB HAS FUCKED OVER BANDING TOGETHER TO GIVE HIM SHIT. LIKE, HE’S KIDNAPPED THEM ALL, HE CAN’T COMPLAIN

Under the sea, under the seeea~

Uh oh. UH OH THAT’S A SCISSOR BLADE

UH OH

Melody shouted in sforzando but it’s already too late ;_;

Oh! And the notation on top- that tells you to use a mute. God dammit

I knew this was coming and yet I am devastated anyway. goodbye my sweet wives your time was too short. Please come back one day

It’s also notable that Hate cut them out right at the border before the third and final protection on the Market begins. We know later that the darkness blots them entirely out of Hate’s view, so if they’d made it just a bit further She wouldn’t have been able to capture them like she just has

D’you think RGB knows exactly what’s happened to them?

If bodies of water are another form of Good Protection, then Fears hanging around the Pool of Tears is doubly weird

Yikes tho good thing Hero hopped off, can you imagine if Hero had gotten snipped away alongside her moms?? Terrible

Jeebs are you telling me that Hero would have eventually started to fade if she’d carried that pile of [—–] long enough?! RGB! BAD DAD! GET ‘IM HERO

Then again, this means he was probably planning to carry it himself most of the way. He has certain advantages after all- he overgenerates color for himself. It’s probably why he lasts as long in the storm of Nothing as he does…

Oh no OH NOOOOO ASSOK HEARD MELODY’S SHOUT

Is that-? Could it be-? By jove, it is. RGB IS INITIATING AFFECTION AND COMFORT EVERYONE! YEEEEEEAH, MAKE UP FOR THAT BAD-DAD BEHAVIOR!

HEY NOW WAIT THE FUCK A MINUTE THERE- BUTTERFLY SHADOW

HEY. Her schism’s opening back up! Nothing on page 166, but once Julienne and Melody are gone in page 167 we see it starting to open back up

!! RGB OFFERS HER HIS HAND? HIS PHYSICAL, ACTUAL HAND?? HELLO????

And the third return of “just this once” is killing me dude

Poor Assok get scronch

Girl what makes you think TOBY and JULIENNE trust RGB?! Additionally, why are you including Dial on the list?! Is he just That Charming?

IN FACT,  every single person Hero just listed? RGB has personally ruined their life! he’s killed ALL of them! HERO I UNDERSTAND YOU’RE 6 BUT

Hero trusts Dial oh no. this can only result in bad things

Butterfly, flying off in defeat: goddamn fucking idealistic children making it hard for me to steal them away and end their story, come on! Dump the chump and let me end you!!!!

Back on that schism though- it opened up once they started fighting at the sun tree, and just now when the wives disappeared. I would say it’s ripped open by experiencing fear, but it definitely was not open when Hero saw Neggy Boi wrecking shop

Join me in the next chapter when our intrepid duo speedrun Pajama Sam: No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside! 

[diondecarnate]

what ive got so far

also sidenote i wanna say this all stemmed from the pun “barded dragon” (instead of bearded dragon, ehh?? ehhhh????) 

name: Kepeshkmolik Tecumseh AKA Tess

the first one is her clan name n its from the book the other one is from an almost sketchy website that says it means “from one place to another” which is preemo for this char

pronouns: she/her/they/them

race: Dragonborn

class: Bard

instrument: Acoustic Phin Guitar AKA this thing

(dragonborns only got three fingers so i wanted to find an instrument w/ three strings)

Deity: Bes, who is the god of luck and music in dnd, and out of dnd hes an egyptian god of fertility, protection, and home. so p much hes got his dick out and is ready to fite 100% of the time, which Mood

Aesthetic: shes a goddamn mess but like a Cool Mess

as mentioned shes got a big ol hat, just like the widest brimmed hat youve ever conceived of 

like this but 100x more brim and made of cloth, dark in color but the brim has tassles put through it so theyre hanging down (she cant see shit ever its v impractical but shes a Performer) theyre all different too, things shes picked up here and there, some gifted some.... not.... 

but shes a collector, shes overpacked for life. overburdened with these things on her hat, necklaces crowding her neck, metal bits clipped/sewn in/ somehow attached all over her person, pierced frills and eyebrows, beads on her like,,, dangly hair things (her stealth is g a r b a g e). she wears a cape/cloak thing like this dude 

also of a nondescript dark color but with shiny things all over it 

what can i say

shes a hoarder 

(my whole char is a pun shes just a big ol pun and i love her)

appearance: shes got darker brass colored scales 

and you might be like oh is there any specific reason for that color?

ok well for dragonborn the color of their scales corresponds to their elemental breath stuff

brass dragons do fire

so she spits fire

d o  y o u  g e t  i t

ahaa ha a aha a aah aa aA AHA A AHAAHAAAHHAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

I MAKE THE BEST OCS

Alignment: CHAOTIC good

Backstory: ???????? ??? ??? ????????????????? ? (do i really need one of those tho, do i really)

Misc: shes got a lil knife in case of emergencies

 hates the cold,

 loves lizards, snakes and cats (and they love her cause she runs warm) and a personal side quest of hers is to get a lizard/snake pet,

 will try any food once but has a massive sweet tooth, 

firmly believes in Luck, is pretty superstitious (will not walk under fantasy ladders, breaking mirrors is The Worst Thing, if you open a fantasy umbrella indoors you Will Die in seven days, “donT DO THAT ITS BAD LUCK”, has so many coppers shes picked up off the ground cause they were heads up (that she wont spend cause “theyre my lucky coins!!”, has notebook(s) full of pressed four/five leaf clovers, some of her tassels/necklaces have evil eye charms/beads on them (turquoise bead me up), if it has anything to do with the number four you can fuck right off, if you kill a ladybug you are Dead to her, etc etc) however her love for cats overrides the “black cats are bad luck” type superstitions, but she does still own some rabbits feet and crows squick her the fuck out.

 she has a very strong sense of Family, and will protect those she considers friends to any end but if you betray or hurt her once? youre gone, snip snip motherfucker-ed out of her circle/life. 

She is a performer first and foremost, she makes herself loud and shiny for a reason. shes a bard, she needs to garner attention in order to make her living. Shes loud, and tends to exaggerate, but enjoys the quiet when she can afford it (literaly). 

Pockets. Shes got so many Pockets. pockets on the inside of her cloak, her pants, if cargo pants were a thing in this universe she would be All For That but would also make them more skinny and legging like. sidenote are cargo leggings a thing. one second. yes they are. ok she wears cargo leggings. shes got pockets in her boots, and shes got a lil pocket inside her hat. if there can be a pocket she has sewn it on. 

she just fucking loves shiny things ok she cant help it and stealing is ok if youre stealing it from bad people ok guys its fine its cool.

she totally is the like goofy/ kinda ridiculous in general ( i mean that hat, really) untill they get serious. then they get serious

 i want her to have this thing where if she defeats you in battle she’ll rip a bit of cloth off you and tie it to her hat, like the tassels that are made out of cloth rather than string/yarn/whatever, n she takes them as trophies 

she is Tuff, and has won many a bar fight, but is pretty nervous in up close battle and prefers to stay to the back, buffing the real fighters and healing

ok i think thats it for now lmao i love her shes my Pun Child and shes beautiful 

[scarletxeyes]

Crow HCs, because I can

And also because Shooj, copypasted from discord: 

- Since he grew up on a dairy farm, he had pretty much zero friends as a kid aside from cows - he’d practise in front of them like they were his “fans”. He actually sees calling his fans “cattle” now as a compliment. - Back when he was a kid, he heard a Grateful King song on the radio and ever since then rock/visual kei music has been his hyperfocus. - He has ADHD, and while his musical and lyric writing skills are great, he never did well in academics. - Crow left for the city at 16, though he’ll deny it he had a lot of trouble adjusting at first. - He has a slight rural accent, but covers it up unless he’s really annoyed/nervous/etc - Another reason he calls his fans “cattle” is because just before their first serious performance, Crow got a serious case of stage fright. Either Rom or Yaiba suggested just treating it like back home playing to the cows, not knowing what they’d just encouraged this goddamn chunni to do - On the subject of Crow being a chunnibyou, he’s been like that since he was a young teen as a means of coping with his boring rural surroundings. Ever since then, he’s built up a front of the kind of badass visual kei rocker he’s always wanted to be, but truly he’s still very immature and insecure - Has a very hyperactive imagination and often gets carried away with his own lyrics - Resents idols and the like for being too “sparkly and fake”, can’t stand pop music purely out of spite and also how constantly upbeat and happy their music and lyrics are. If it’s not loud and aggressive, he doesn’t see the point - Has a lot of insecurities with his own masculinity. My Crow is trans because I said so, which only adds to him needing to constantly prove himself. He’s been on T shots since settling in Midi City - He’s stealth and only out as trans to his bandmates - poor thing was a nervous wreck bringing it up with Rom, who helped him explain to the other two like the good dad he is - Is gay, but again heavily closeted; he’ll react pretty badly to anyone (coughShuzocough) who gives him Gay Thoughts - In short (no pun intended), Crow is a a smol aggressive ADHD hedgehog chunnibyou who needs lots of chill pills and to be told he doesn’t have to constantly prove himself thanks for coming to my ted talk THIS WENT ON WAY TOO LONG ORZ

[thesaplinggarden]

Caspian/Daimine RP Transcript -- First Meeting

CASPIAN: The job was about as simple and tired as it got this time; someone had made off with a significant pile of money, and the client was not happy with that. though Caspian supposed that the target in question being a sylvari was kind of interesting, and the fact that this sylvari had been hired as a hitman for another job was amusing, they were the only unique elements in this case. he expected to shoot, torch, and bury the bastard and have his reward collected in time for supper, and followed his target patiently with the promise of a good meal pushing him forward.

DAIMINE: By the time Daimine had arrived at the small tavern in Ebonhawke, he had realized that someone was following him. He could read a crowded room like an open book-- who was staring, who was trying not to stare, who was feigning a little too much interest in a half finished bottle or old newspaper, and most importantly, what faces were a little too familiar to be strangers at a bar.

As he brought his third mug of amber ale to his lips, he couldn't help but smirk. Someone was watching him, he was sure of that, but that begged the question of their intentions.

CASPIAN: This again. Drinking seemed to be a favored pastime for his target, and Caspian couldn't help a stifled smirk. But he went about his business, pretending not to watch while he kept an ear out for any developments. It was a long lunch for the sylvari, longer than he expected, and he was glad when his target was on the move again. But something felt wrong somehow, the sylvari's movements were different, even if just barely. Drunk, Caspian thought, and shrugged it off. They were out of the tavern and down a secluded but wide alley, Caspian remaining as silent as he could. This would be his opportunity. When the sylvari stopped to look at something, he held his back to the corner wall, cocked his pistol, and aimed.

DAIMINE: Just above Caspian's head, cloaked in stealth, Daimine crept over the edge of the rampart's metal railing, locked his knees under the gap, and extended himself forward with a pistol of his own. How disappointing. For an assassin he was far too easily fooled when his stalking skills had seemed so promising. Making sure to remain still, he turned his clone's head until he could just barely see his would-be killer in his periphery and spoke. "Finally going to kill me, are you?"

CASPIAN: Caspian froze. He wasn't sure what to do for a second, and it made him panic--he fired twice, hitting his target dead center through their solar plexus and heart. Where he expected to be a sickening explosion of dark gold and leaf debris, there was suddenly a brilliant cascade of butterflies, all scattering this way and that. He had just enough time to realize what had happened before a slow, tired, groaning sigh left his lips and he cursed under his breath. Goddamn mesmers, he should have known. Slowly, he raised his hands with all the energy and fear of a sarcastic asura, and waited. "well, I'd planned on it, anyways. This is what I get for thinking too far ahead of myself."

DAIMINE: Daimine laughed as the man below him raised his hands in defeat. He released his stealth spell and his body at once, tumbling in a dramatic somersault to land facing his new captive. "Oh, no. The planning was marvelous. You just were lacking in the observation department and therefore..." Daimine shook his head pitifully and clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Poor execution." He broke into a smile at his own pun as he snatched up the pistol from the other's loosened grip.

CASPIAN: He quirked a brow, still smiling a little. "you're going to kill me with my own gun? Seems a bit bitterhearted, don't you think?" he even laughed. "but then I guess I did take two shots at you. It's only fair, in the end." so much for that dinner. He wondered why he wasn't more concerned, but somehow he got the feeling he would be okay in the end, no matter what fate befell him, and he would believe it if Dwayna was just having a good laugh over him.

DAIMINE: "Oh, definitely not." Daimine said firmly, putting the hand holding the pistol to his mouth in deep thought. There was something in the man's eyes that he couldn't place. He wasn't afraid. Perhaps resigned? As the realization dawned on him, his brow unfurrowed and his mouth opened in a wide grin. "You're bored!" He laughed, disarming his enemy's gun and throwing it high up onto the rampart above. "You were bored, that explains everything!"

CASPIAN: He paused, thrown off by the genuine mirth in his new captor's laugh. "uh....guilty as charged, I suppose?" he even laughed a nervous little chuckle himself, unsure if he should lower his hands and run for it while he had the chance. "perhaps this isn't the best information to give a target, but you'd be surprised at how old hat being caught in your own game can get when you're for hire." he put emphasis on the last two words, hoping that it would be a shared inside joke, and it seemed to work, judging by the other's smile.

DAIMINE: Daimine shook his head sympathetically and holstered the gun in his other hand. "Oh this won't do at all. I'd feel bad killing you like this when it's clear you weren't really trying." He clapped the man's shoulder in an attempted display of sportsmanship. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you another chance, but this time, you have to promise me we're playing for keeps, alright? Good. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He trailed off and looked up, suddenly very focused on something high above before his figure shattered into butterflies and he vanished without a trace.

CASPIAN: It took several long seconds for Caspian to finally lower his hands and let out a heavy sigh. He glanced up, trying to figure the best way to retrieve his gun, when he suddenly caught a giggle in his throat. It burst forth in an odd sort of snort, and he couldn't help the sickening sensation of more laughter in his gut. Something in this target had gotten under his skin, and caspian wasn't sure if that was necessarily a bad thing. He sat on the ramparts, looking up into the deepening sky--for keeps this time, huh? He could manage that. He'd have to manage that. Because while he could tell the sylvari wanted a fair challenge, he also knew that another slip up could mean his own demise at the hands of boredom.