#it's never mentioned but given what all the pretties get up to they probably temporarily sterilize them right

[clonerightsagenda]

IDK how they're going to salvage casting Laverne Cox as the mastermind behind a sinister government conspiracy to brainwash your children into having mutilating surgery but I am wondering what the trans experience is like in the Uglies universe. Gender confirmation surgery should be pretty simple given their technology, and pretties get costume surge all the time. Can uglies request gender reassignment as part of their pretty surgery? Or, given that iirc it's mentioned the surgeons ignore most requests anyway, would the surgeons just give them brain damage to make them forget they're trans? I feel like the former, tbh, as one more incentive to keep people desperate for the surgery. Trans positive nightmare surgical brainwashing dystopia. You can get temporary top surgery for a costume party.

[allelitewrites]

(This is my first story and I honestly don't even know if I'm doing this whole thing right but...)

A Subtle Warning

Word Count: 1630

Relationship: Hangman Page x Reader

----------------------------------------------------

Tonight was just like any other Wednesday night. My boyfriend and I arrived to the venue a few hours before doors opened for the weekly episode of Dynamite. I thankfully wasn't booked to do anything for the night. I was only thankful because a rest was very much needed. Adam however was in the middle of a pretty personal feud with Swerve Strickland. Their whole thing wasn't supposed to be personal at first. The initial intention for it to just be apart of the wrestling business. One person wanting another's position. However, things changed when Swerve had brought up that Hangman was walking away from his issues. Walking away from his issues like he had from the Elite and I some years ago. It was a low point that he typically didn't like to talk about and that night, Swerve really struck a nerve.

Hangman and I found our way into The Elite's locker room. The EVP's temporarily absent due to a creative meeting. We set our things down before taking a seat next to each other on the cheap couch. He and I leaned into each other. With the way his calloused fingers were tracing along my skin, I could tell he was nervous. "I hate signing contracts on TV." Adam mumbles as he lets out a large sigh.

I turn my head and plant a firm kiss on his large shoulder before leaning my head against him again. "Just go out there and do your thing." I reassure him as I twist at one of the bracelets resting on my wrist. I can feel him nod as his hand finally starts to decrease the amount of shapes it was drawing. "Try not to let him get to you."

"Well, Y/n, it's kind of hard when he's sitting right across the table from me with a disgusting smirk as he mocks me."

I didn't even have a response. I hate contract signings just as much as he does. They were a stupid excuse to get publicity and a chance to manipulate your opponent on a golden platter. To me, you shouldn't need a set up situation for you to get to your opponent. Everything you do should be in the ring. Without a table and without chairs. Contracts should be signed in the back. A response came to mind but I wasn't able to share it as Kenny, Matt, and Nick came back into the room, instantly complaining about how long and boring their meeting was. Adam sat up straight and let his large hand rest on my thigh. We weren't huge on PDA, especially not around our friends.

A few hours later...

For whatever reason Tony Khan decided to give Adam and Swerve the main event. All for a contract signing that would probably end up with tables flipping and chairs being thrown. I was sitting anxiously next to Matt as the Elite watched the segment go down. Renee Paquette table side to officiate the signing.

Strickland was chewing Adam up, not even giving the blonde headed man a chance to speak his own words. Eventually, he started to talk about how different he and Hangman were from each other. Almost as if he was offended by being compared to the cowboy. "What's a farmer to a mogul, huh?" Swerve asks, making Adam furrow his eyebrows. "What's a cowboy to an outlaw? What's a buckshot to a kill shot?"

I chewed at the inside of my cheek. I could see Adam's gears in his brain moving at a hundred miles per minute just through the television screen in the locker room. He was keeping his cool, never breaking eye contact with the man across the table from him.

Finally, Swerve put his microphone down. For the first time tonight, Adam was given the opportunity to speak his thoughts. But, he didn't start the way I expected him to. First, Adam calmly mentioned the things Swerve had said to him in the weeks prior. However, the thing that caught all of us off guard as Nick and Kenny settled in their spots around the room was that Hangman thanked Swerve. Adam thanked him for reigniting a flame in his body that was long burnt out. He explained how something was up with him. Something that a person really couldn't explain.

The crowd was so invested in every single word that either man let slip from their lips. Letting every single sentence set in, expanding their thoughts to multiple different things. Things that hadn't even realized they didn't really notice at first. A slight stir could be heard as Adam spoke of a dark cloud that he'd felt was hovering over him every single time that he showed up to work.

"And then sure... sure. The sun would shine. I beat Jon Moxley in a Texas Death Match." Adam proudly brags. I caught him taking a pause to look at Renee, who drew her lips into a line at the thought of the brutal match her husband had gone through with my boyfriend. "I reunited with my friends in the Elite. I was able to rekindle my relationship with the absolute love of my life. And it felt like I should've been the happiest man in the world. But every time I started to smile. That little black cloud came back and it started to rain."

I couldn't help but smile at the fact of him calling me the love of his life on national television. Something I could never get used to him calling me. In the good way of course. He continued to speak before addressing how the fans who supported him so dearly deserved to see more from him. And when he decided that he spoke enough of his mind to get his point across, he picked up the pen and signed his name on the dotted line.

An evil laugh was heard. A laugh that echoed through the building. Adam was caught off guard. Looking up to see Swerve looking like he was having the time of his life. Looking like he was having a good time. Looking like this whole thing was a simple joke to him. The crowd quickly canceled him out, a chant of 'Cowboy Shit' echoing through the seats of the arena.

"That was beautiful. But, quite frankly, that was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen." Swerve chuckles before insulting the crowd's home team. Earning an array of boos. He continued on to speak about how he was fueled to take Adam's position in the company before Hangman had heard enough. Tired of hearing how Swerve believed Adam was handed everything in his career which couldn't of been more untrue.

Hangman stood up, the anger coursing through his veins finally reaching a boiling point. "If you think you have what it takes to fill my boots... you don't."

Swerve matched his energy also standing up across from him. But he didn't speak a single word. Instead he froze to look Adam in the eye once more. And just when Adam thought it was over, Swerve rose his and and slapped the cowboy across the face. Adam turned around and leaned on the ropes behind him as Swerve picked up a microphone yet again. "Hey. Hey, hey Hangman. You seem to not think of me as a threat. You sure as hell better watch your back... or maybe you should tell your friends... actually, no. You want to make this personal? Fine, we'll make it personal. You better tell your hot girlfriend to watch her back."

Adam didn't even hesitate, raising the microphone he still had in his hand to his mouth.

"If you touch her... I'll kill you."

Swerve let out a long sigh. Finally he got the hint that Hangman wasn't joking. Threatening me... someone Adam cared about so dearly was the final nerve that Swerve could've hit. He leaned over and signed the contract.

In that split second, I saw Adam clench his fist and I knew he was going to swing. However, I didn't expect what he actually did.

Using the pen Adam formerly used to sign the match contract, he stabbed Swerve's hand. I watched as Strickland screamed in pain. He pleaded as my boyfriend refused to let go. I booked it out of the room. Rushing to get into the guerrilla position. I intended on meeting Adam there. After that... I had no plan, I was left with whatever my first option would end up being.

He forcefully pushed his way back through the curtain not seeing me at first. But when I walked up to him and put my hand on his bicep. He spun around and I could see relief wash across his face. He pulls me into his chest and holds the back of my head. I can feel his heavy breathing and I can hear his heart beat at the speed of a thousand race horses.

He pulls away to kiss the top of my head before firmly grabbing my hand. Not even whispering a single word. He rushes me through the hallways before pushing me into an empty room that he surely scouted out before the show. As soon as I shut the door he crashes his lips into mine, his hands grabbing greedily at my top. I wrap my arms around my neck before tilting my head back to get a good look at his face.

"What?" He asks.

I smile and push a golden curl out of his face. "I just wanted to make sure that I heard you right. Did you say you would kill him?"

A smirk crawls onto his face. His ocean blue eyes staring directly into mine. "With my own two bare hands, sweetheart."

[ciaossu-imagines]

Could you write something, you’re allowed to choose the format, of Namba going through a zombie apocalypse?

C

Of course I can! Thank you for sending this in, since I mentioned having a lot of ideas for this that I never thought I'd get the chance to rant about and now I can! I hope you'll all enjoy the ranting!

So, the zombie apocalypse comes to Nanba Prison. There's a couple ways I could see it happening. One way it could go is that a visitor, or even one of the prison staff or guards, could unknowingly have gotten infected on the mainland. Maybe they had a random and bizarre experience with someone already zombified and they blamed the encounter on someone just being high on bath salts. Maybe the food they ate carried the virus needed to create zombies. Whatever way it happened, they unwittingly got exposed to whatever makes people turn into zombies and then, when they did get onto the island, the virus really took hold and they went full zombie and started attacking. While that initial zombie was probably put down and put down relatively quickly, they managed to do some damage and spread the virus to at least a couple more people, who then spread it to a couple more before they could be killed and so on and so forth until it's getting more and more difficult to keep up with putting them out of their misery.

Another way it could happen? It could definitely be an experiment the Otogi's were working on together that went terribly, terribly wrong. I think I prefer the first one a little better, just because in this kind of scenario, the Otogi's would either become some of the first to go zombie or just straight up get killed and that really puts Nanba in a real tight spot as to whether anyone survives because they really need their healers and researchers.

Now, in a way, Nanba is the perfect place for the zombie apocalypse to really break out. It's not only inescapable but it's pretty impenetrable, not only with the high walls and security feature but by the simple fact that it is an island. There's only one way on, one way off really. I think that's something that was banked upon during the first initial outbreak, when things were getting bad but still seemed to be under control. Momo ordered all forms of transportation to the island to cease temporarily but overall, the guards figured their strength and diligence alone could prevent it from spreading.

When things started to spin and the zombies started getting more plentiful in number, too much to easily control and take down, Nanba goes into full lockdown mode. Each building is quarantined, much like how we saw Building 5 during the Enki arc. Travel between different buildings is forbidden and the guards are given the orders. Squash this zombie uprising, protect your prisoners, and prevent any prisoners from trying to escape.

In headquarters, Momoko is in charge, overseeing everything, and really tries to keep a handle on the situation. She plans and oversees this as the commanding chief of an army would and believe me, she puts her army to good use.

Of course, she's only able to do that because Mitsuru is also locked safely in headquarters with her. If it wasn't for Mitsuru's communications and technological skills keeping all the different buildings connected and updates kept coming at hourly intervals, Nanba would likely have fallen completely.

Of course, the Otogi's and KAGU-8 are also within headquarters, commanding their teams in a joint effort operation to figure out what the hell is causing all this, to find a cure for it, and to figure the best way to get that cure out to everyone who might need it.

KAGU-8 actually comes in incredibly useful as well because, as a robot, she is immune to becoming a zombie. She goes out of the building whenever it's deemed safe (as in, she won't let anything in and they know she can't transmit the virus back to them as it's not anything skin to skin contact), acting in a variety of manners. Not only can she give them a better view of the actual situation outside of their building, but she can act as a go-between and aid various buildings in need of support.

Because animals also seem to be completely immune to being turned zombie, Kyakuya, Hiiragi, Tsubaki, Sazanka, and Kikiyou also help KAGU-8 in those kind of roles and they're also a valuable source of intel for Building 4.

And Building 4? It makes itself useful. Not only is Yozakura exceptionally strong and more than capable of taking down a single zombie, but he is a very smart man and knows how to research and investigate. Musashi actually is allowed out of his cell, though he must still be closely supervised every minute, under the orders of the Warden, to help as that is something Musashi excels at as well. Building 4 really dedicates itself to helping Headquarters' research and investigation team as much as they possibly can. Even though Hitoshi isn't really the most skilled at research, they help by taking care of the others, rationing out food while still making sure everyone is fed, and really taking over the supervising of the other guards and the overseeing of the prisoners.

Speaking of food, it becomes clear after the first week or so that travel must be established between the different buildings so that rations and provisions can be shared. Not only that, but after the first building or two fell due to zombies, it became apparent that staff needed to have a way for backup to reach them in case things did start to go bad inside a building.

While Momoko and Hajime will definitely need to have a meeting after this whole thing is over, it's really Building 13's time to shine when it comes to finding ways for the Buildings to safely travel between each other. While Jyugo and the others normally keep their travelling within Building 13, Jyugo has probably snuck around to other buildings without Hajime or the boys noticing, just because he could. And with the inmates of Building 13 really being given a little leniency, and the blueprints to Nanba, it's a walk in the park for them to figure out, test, and secure safe passage between the various buildings. Anyone going between the buildings must be accompanied by a Guard, and honestly Building 13's supervisors and guards have the best reputation and everyone wants them to accompany them. The pure amount of just stupid levels of strength and combat that both Yamato and Hajime have make them more than capable of taking on any zombies that come their way. Seitarou and Tsukumo, meanwhile, actually have really fast reflexes and a kind of stealth that makes them really talented at going safely in between the different buildings and at leading groups between buildings.

Building 3 finds their purpose during the apocalypse in several ways. Not only do Honey and Trois team up but they also team up with Ruka under the supervision of Kiji and start to produce various weapons and battle plans and tactics. Honey often collaborates with Building 4, Uno, and even the Warden herself on one occasion when it comes to tactics and plans. But they also do something else that proves useful as the apocalypse wears on. The communications channel gets turned over to Building 3 once a day, where Kiji or other staff from Building 3 just spread positivity, remind everyone of why they're fighting, assure them that things will return to normal, and remind everyone that they also need to take care of themselves. Shower as often as you can, make sure you get your beauty rest, don't forget good skin-care and little mindfulness breaks, just to keep yourself looking and feeling the best you can. After all, if you look and feel good, you can conquer anything, even a horde of zombies.

Building 5 tends to be the building most everyone counts on to actually go out and put those plans and tactics into action. They're really the front-line soldiers of this battle and not without very good reason. Not only are the guards of Building 5 exceptionally physically and mentally strong, but it's inmates are normally quite physically strong and talented fighters in their own rights. Even Qi gets drafted, becoming a sort of combat medic and he's the one to test the zombie antidote, each time the Research Team thinks they have perfected it, out in the field. Other inmates and guards from different buildings do back them up whenever possible, but they are really the ones in charge down on the ground.

[quibbs126]

Trade offer

I get: Licorice x Almond fan child

You get: a wacky Mushroom that will fill you with whimsy

Do you accept? (PleazspelasepleaseIneedlicolmondcontentibegofthee)

I know this has been probably months in the making (sorry about that), but I finally got to it, and their names are Marzipan Cookie and Black Sesame Cookie

Originally I was just going to stick with Marzipan, but after getting that thing from anon with suggestions for Marzipan’s character, I decided to use one of the other names for some of the other ideas listed. Thanks again to that anon for the help

I came up with these names a long time ago, so I don’t entirely remember Black Sesame’s name reasoning, other than I think it was based off the seeds and it was because those seeds are a dark color like licorice? And probably some other reason relating to Almond that I can’t remember. But for Marzipan, it’s because marzipan is made from ground almonds

Marzipan and black sesame seeds:

I’ll say one thing, I feel like Marzipan looks almost nothing like Licorice. Hmm, maybe she was younger she had a goth phase where she dressed more like him and maybe dyed her hair? I dunno, but at this point she’s moved past that. I also feel like she looks more like a journalist, when she’s supposed to be a cop. She has a badge somewhere on her jacket, you just don’t see it. The anon mentioned something about skull cuffs, so I thought might as well give her that, so yeah her cuff links are skull shaped. Also originally, her jacket was orange, but I changed it to purple because I thought one of them should at least have a color scheme similar to Licorice (also I was waiting on my friend for a consultance on which colors to use, but she’s going out on vacation, so I just stuck with purple. I should probably find more consultants on this stuff than just her, but also I feel like that’d be rude)

Also I know neither Licorice nor Almond have white hair, but the pictures of marzipan I found were usually an off white color, so I chose to stick with that

As for Black Sesame, I’m pretty happy with his design, it’s pretty much what I wanted. I wanted him to look somewhat like a crazy and/or homeless person, even though he isn’t one. Though maybe I could have given him more detail. Ah well. Oh also, Black Sesame has a slouch, but is also just generally a bit short. Sorry just random detail I wanted to mention

So anyways, let’s get into the two, starting with Marzipan. So she’s part of the police force like Almond (who’s probably the Commissioner at this point), and she specifically deals with homicide cases. Previously, she attended the Parfaedia Institute and learned magic, as well as some from Licorice, and probably her most notable asset is that she can temporarily bring a victim back from the dead via licorice magic (even if she herself doesn’t have much licorice in her dough), so they can figure out how they died and who killed them. Unfortunately, she has the bad luck that almost all of the victims she deals with don’t have those answers, so she still has to try and figure things out for herself, though the victims can be helpful in the process. To be honest, her cases tend to go more like Ace Attorney cases, with a lot of wacky hijinks and things being relatively light hearted (you know for a murder case). She loves her job but she can get frustrated sometimes with the amount of weird stuff she has to deal with to get her job done. Also you know that clip of suspects having to sing I Want it That Way? I’d imagine she’d be the cop in that scene (sorry I’ve never seen Brooklyn 99, only clips)

As for Black Sesame, he’s a teenager that also attends Parfaedia, but he has little if any interest in learning magic, and is only still going because he likes the potions track (which Prune Juice likely had some involvement in, but I’m not sure how). His big thing is that he’s an author of a series of murder mysteries, which he loosely bases off of Marzipan’s talks of her cases (and case files as well as her diary, but he doesn’t tell her about that last bit). Like he’ll lift certain elements from her cases that he thinks are interesting (as well as the main character being a cop that brings people back from the dead), and then insert them into this stories. Though unlike how Marzipan’s actual cases tend to be more on the wacky side, Black Sesame’s versions tend to be incredibly dark and gritty with gratuitous amounts of violence and vulgarity. However, Black Sesame doesn’t just do this because he wants to make edgy fanfiction, it’s because he’s trying to make statements based on the stories at hand, choosing to use the dark tone as a form of satire while also being a commentary on things (unfortunately I don’t really know what those messages or things are, because I’m not good at deeper meanings to stories, I kind of have to be told them by other people to understand them). He generally doesn’t condone the dark things he puts in his stories, he just uses them to make a point

His books are actually incredibly successful, some people reading it for satire, and some just because of the dark content. However he hasn’t made it publicly known that he’s the writer of the series (he uses a pen name), with it really only being kept between his publishers and his family. He does it partially because he thinks that revealing a teenager wrote these books could lessen people’s opinions on the books, and also he thinks it’s funny if he doesn’t tell people, like some of his classmates read them and love them, including plenty of people who just generally don’t like him, and he thinks it’s hilarious, and he wants to keep it up until the best possible moment to publicly reveal himself so that he can see the looks on their faces when they realize he’s the author

Marzipan doesn’t read the books (hence why she doesn’t know he reads her diary for info), mostly just because she knows the main character is based on her and the stories are based on her cases, and she finds it a bit too surreal to read about. And while no one knows the real identity of the author, other people in the precinct suspect Marzipan has some connection to them, considering the main character sounds suspiciously like her and the cases in it sound a bit too much like their cases for these to be complete coincidence

Also I’m considering the idea that they have a youngest sister called Swirl Taffy who wants to be a wizard and is just generally an optimistic child, but Black Sesame keeps trying to get her into dark things and Marzipan has to stop him (but she probably already knows the dark stuff and is cool with it), but I don’t think I’ll draw her, just a random concept

But yeah, I think that’s all on Marzipan and Black Sesame. Hope you like them!

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Some Head Cannons on who are these siblings Polka Dot Man mentioned. Also, they have different last names since some of the siblings are actual characters in the DC universe, but I think it’s because the mom probably wanted to get a bunch of kids really fast for her experiments so she either adopted or just switched from man to man if they were unwilling to have more kids, so anyway, here are the siblings in order of age:

Paul Dekker: The eldest, “Crazy Quilt”. I feel like since he’s the oldest, he ended up sort of protecting his siblings from more of the worst experiments, and as a result his mind ended up the most broken, which is where the ‘crazy’ comes in. The virus allows him to do illusions of sorts; he can control the lights that allow people to see colors, so he can make them see whatever he wants really. It’s harder to give them a complete image of something or a false scenario, especially since he can’t manipulate sound, but he can easily make them see random flashing lights, temporarily blinding them and confusing them. However, it seems like the virus took away his own vision in the process, replacing it with a light so bright that would kill anyone he looked at, and it causes a sort of dull burning sensation where his eyes used to be, which definitely didn’t help with the whole going insane thing. He’s an artist, a painter apparently, and I think he’s rather talented, but given his crimes that career never really goes anywhere. Despite his deranged disposition due to the torture of those experiments, he still feels immense guilt that his siblings died despite his efforts. 

Gabriel Dekker: He died third. The virus made his body dissolve into gas, but he was able to keep it together for a while. When he dissolves into gas he is no longer himself, so it’s like he’s constantly slowly dying when his body goes into gas, and he can’t let himself completely dissolve or else he will never pull himself together again. But then one day he couldn’t, and he knew it was coming. Gabriel didn’t like letting his other siblings know he was in pain, not wanting to be a burden upon them, and so when he knew his time was up, he told them to “Look Away”, those being his last words.

Abner Krill: “Polka Dot Man”. He died fourth. You know him. I feel like he was probably the most feral out of his siblings, constantly fighting back at his mom despite all those years of being held captive. His last words being, “I’m a superhero.”

Abigall Krill: She and Abner are twins, and she was the very first to die. It was pretty early on, her body not being able to handle the virus at all, as she ended up puking out all her insides until death. She was a very trusting child, not fully grasping the idea of malice quite yet, and now she never will. But with this lack of knowing what malice was, she didn’t understand why her mom wouldn’t help her when it hurt, leading her last words to be, “Momma, it hurts.”

Leah Bilvolo: She died second. Her body crystalized, and at first it was fine, although there was the constant pain of having her crystal skin against her insides. But over time, the crystal slowly crawled over more of her body, of more of her insides, until there was nothing of her left. She was a rather hopeful person, holding onto the idea that one day they would be rescued, that one day it’ll all be okay. And she kept the idea of that till the end, saying whilst she was on the verge of dying, “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

Delilah Bilvolo: “Kaleidoscope”. I didn’t see that she had a canon name so I just gave her one. Similar to Crazy Quilt, the virus made her be able to do illusions of sorts, due to her ability to control light. But whilst her brother sends illusions to where only one person can see, she can create illusions out in the real world for anyone to see. Problem is, sometimes she feels her skin shift around. It looks mystical enough, almost like puzzle pieces moving to see what fits, but in reality it’s very painful. When she was a kid she accepted their situation very quickly, and was annoyed when her other siblings didn’t. She went into survival mode very fast, and sort of did things that made it seem like she was more on her mom’s side rather then her siblings. All these years later, an adult, she still feels guilt about it, as if she were to share in the blame of what their mom did to all of them. Currently, it seems she is in prison, and perhaps she and Polka Dot Man had committed a crime together to end up in there. They still kept in contact post the experiments with their mom, and she was of course devastated at losing him.

Roy Bilvolo: The youngest, “Rainbow Raider”. The virus gave him a couple of things; the ability to turn invisible, to turn light into a solid, and to effect the emotions of others via brain waves. Despite being the youngest, or maybe because of that, the virus took to him better than his siblings, not causing him any pain or was ever in danger of dying. But he’s always able to read the emotions of others, which causes him moments of confusion, as he sometimes has trouble distinguishing his own feelings and others. This can lead him to be rather paranoid about himself, and can also sometimes unreliable in a team setting because he can feel his enemies resentment towards him and his teammates, and sometimes confuses it for his own and might attack his teammates. There’s also a certain guilt of feeling like he had it easy compared to his other siblings, as his pain has never been physical in nature. He is also an artist, a sculptor. 

There’s an opportunity here to reunite the last three living siblings. Both Crazy Quilt and Rainbow Raider are wannabe artists, with Rainbow Raider specifically stealing art. Perhaps someone else got credit for a piece Crazy Quilt did, but because he’s, ya know, a villain, nobody believes him nor cares. So now Rainbow Raider and Crazy Quilt team up to go steal it out of spite, but along the way, Kaleidoscope shows up. She’s probably on some other shit, something much more high stake then what the other two are doing, and they all get mixed up in it together, and that’s what the movie could be about. 

[illegiblewords]

Quick heads up! Read through Mo Dao Zu Shi/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation donghua recently, going to share a brief burst of art for it before resuming normal activity.

Summary is that Wei Wuxian is the founder of a sect of necromantic practices. He briefly held a position of great reverence during wartime for turning the tide in favor of his allies, but soon lost favor with them and was subsequently killed. He has an extremely sinister reputation and is looked at with fear and hatred even thirteen years after his passing. Then one day a desperate and unhappy man sacrifices his soul so that his body can become a vessel for Wuxian instead--all in exchange for revenge on those who tormented him. Revived and unrecognized, Wuxian is soon dragged back into the political machinations of various magical sects alongside his former rival Lan Wangji.

Pairing is canonically M/M. The donghua wasn’t sexually graphic or anything fwiw. Mild horror.

Some reviewing under the cut. Heads up like, I mention critique.

It’s quality stuff imo, but I might want to check the anime. My understanding is OG form is a novel, then donghua, plus an anime and live-action adaptation. I went through the donghua because very pretty art. My experience there was that a few of the places I was reading had issues with getting all pages in one place, in order, without ads being overwhelming to the point of distraction. Like I’d close pop-ups in the middle of the page at the start of a chapter and a few seconds later they’d re-open but all the pages were there/in-order, or I might have massive chunks missing that impacted ability to follow the action. There was also a section where translation temporarily turned into mashed potatoes, which seemed to exist across sites.

In terms of narrative, Wuxian’s story and the political intrigue are like crack for me lol. Psychological and pretty kickass. The criticisms I have rn are:

- I do actually want to see more of the darkness Wuxian fell into, how scary he got, and more traces of that in him post-resurrection. I think translation probably makes it even harder, but I feel like there’s a specific vibe that happens when you get an older character in a younger body (the term ‘patriarch’ in particular made me think that would have been there) where just from how they talk or posture you can kind of feel there’s more experience. It’s not at the expense of personality or individual variation, just the weight of experience. I think it came through a little sometimes, and it’s complicated by Wuxian having died young too. But the darker bits and sense of having seen shit were less tangible to me in the manhua.

- Wangji felt like his character flattened a lot/his personality was heavily simplified post-resurrection in the donghua, which imo is a shame. I think there could have been a really incredible arc with him getting increasingly upset and frustrated with Wuxian’s behavior given the circumstances before finally snapping, but also feeling like he can’t risk snapping because what if he loses him again? Also like... Wangji having seen the mental state Wuxian was in before he died, but also being aware of HOW he died and possibly having seen his corpse. That’s incredibly heavy, and Wuxian never quite gets confronted with the full extent of that in the donghua. I also wasn’t a huge fan of the way alcohol got used for him, because it felt kind of like a gimmicky exposition cheat in a way.

- Pacing at the climax was spaghetti. Character interactions around the climax felt really confusing and I didn’t really believe them, especially with the ages and positions of various characters involved. I do think a moment of villain feeling awkward and being like ‘yo wtf’ when the romance was mentioned in conversation works as a funny detail, but in the donghua it felt like that got overused to the point that it took me out of the story a bit.

- There was a measure of ‘HOLY SHIT JUST KILL ‘EM’ at a certain point in the climax to the degree that I not only couldn’t understand the leadership not taking that course (at least to protect civvies who were suffering from machinations), but I also was really confused by other characters present not moving to kill the antagonist. Additionally I don’t understand what the antagonist planned to do with so many witnesses at that point and am confused that murder wasn’t happening to weed the number down, plus like... witnesses are a big deal. I also don’t think quite as many characters were needed in the climax under the circumstances and it didn’t really make sense to me. There are five characters total that felt needed right there specifically and there were like... 9ish? It had a similar feeling to when I was trying to write group scenes as a teenager and would have a character do something dramatic then go through a list trying to give every cast member dialogue or actions when they’re basically watching with popcorn.

Because the story got adapted across multiple versions, and because I know my going through the direct novel translation is extreme hard mode because of how picky I am about style/dialogue/description, I want to see if the anime addressed this stuff basically. My sense is live action reduces romance to some extent, which I’d rather avoid.

I think I’d give 7.5 or 8 out of ten? The parts that work are AMAZING. It’s not that the critique I’ve got isn’t there/isn’t important, but the rest is so good that I’m not willing to take off more than that. Particular shout-out for exploring mob violence conceptually and exploring multiple perspectives in-depth.

[sturchling]

I loved the Avengers story you wrote!! I hope it's not too much to ask for another so soon, but I had this idea. What if Peter goes on a trip with Tony to France while he does some work, but on the condition that he has to go to school. So he goes to Dupont. He ends up in Bustier's class as a temporary student, not mentioning he's there with Tony Stark, but mentions he's from NYC. Lila takes that as a cue to start lying about knowing Tony Stark. Peter is not amused. Nor is Tony. Who sues her.

Sorry this took so long! Got so busy out of no where and then the rainy season started! But here you go! Hope you like it!

Peter was very excited today. Mr. Stark was going to Paris for some business for the next several weeks and Peter had convinced Mr. Stark to let him come too. Peter had never been to France and had always really wanted to go. He spent days convincing Mr. Stark, telling him that it would be a good educational opportunity to learn about France and to practice his French. Of course, Tony had always intended on Peter coming with him, not that he ever would tell the kid that. Tony had found Peter's attempts at convincing him pretty funny actually. Tony 'relented' and said Peter could come, on the condition that he attend a school while they are there, since they would be there for several weeks. Peter eagerly agreed and the pair started looking into potential schools for Peter.

---------------------

The two wanted to make sure that they choose a school with an excellent curriculum and was a fantastic school for peter. After a while, they found one school that looked particularly promising. Francois Dupont. All the students seemed to excel in their studies and the school had classes for several diverse interests. Peter was especially interested in Mrs. Mendeleiev, seeing as she is the science teacher. Once they had decided on this school, Tony started filing paperwork to temporarily transfer Peter to this school. Peter was soon accepted to Francois Dupont and got his class assignment. He had been placed in Mrs. Bustier's class. Soon, Tony and Peter were ready to leave for Paris and were on the way to the airport.

-------------------

Peter had arrived early at Francois Dupont for his first day at the school. He was now sitting in the principal's, Mr. Damocles' office, and the principal was going over some of the rules for the school. After a while, the door opened behind Peter and a smaller girl with dark hair walked in. "Ah, Peter, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class rep for Mrs. Bustier's class. Miss Dupain-Cheng, thank you for coming. This is Peter Parker. He has temporarily transferred into your class and as class rep, I would like you to show him around the school." The girl, Marinette, smiled at Peter. "Of course Mr. Damocles. It is nice to meet you Peter! Lets go, I'll show you around." Peter got his bag and followed after Marinette, glad to be free of the rambling principal.

-------------------

Marinette did a fantastic job of showing Peter the school and telling him about the members of the class. Peter had been given a class roster when he arrived, with the names of his new classmates. While Marinette had spoken highly of almost the entire class, she had clearly avoided talking about one student in particular. All Marinette had said about Lila Rossi was that she was a transfer student from Italy. That is it. She had gone on and on about all the other students and their interests and achievements. But she was obviously avoiding discussing Lila, and that didn't escape Peter's notice. He did wonder why Marinette didn't talk about her, and was a bit hesitant about this Lila. If a nice girl like Marinette won't talk about her, maybe this Lila wasn't too nice herself. Peter didn't want to judge her without meeting her, but he would be careful when he did.

-----------------

Peter was sitting in the classroom now. Marinette and he were sitting on a bench towards the back of the room. He really liked Marinette and the two quickly became friends, talking about random things and Peter told her all about New York. The classroom was still mostly empty with only a few other students there. The students that were there had already come to talk to him and welcome him to the class. Then he felt Marinette stiffen next to him. Peter looked over and saw her staring at the door. When he glanced over, he saw a girl had just walked in. This girl had long brown hair in three different ponytails, one at the back and two at the front. She seemed very confident and as soon as she walked in, practically the whole class gathered around her. This girl must be Lila, based on Marinette's reaction. Lila focused in on Peter almost instantly. As she approached his desk with a fake smile on her face, Peter started to understand why Marinette may not like this girl.

-------------------

Lila noticed the new boy immediately when she walked in the room. He was reasonably handsome, and he was a new person to trick. So he had Lila's undivided attention. She was sure she could have him under her spell by lunch. She walked over to the desk he was sitting at, next to little miss goody two shoes Marinette, with her most dazzling smile. "Hi, my name is Lila. Who are you?" Peter smiled tightly at Lila, trying not to judge her based on that very fake smile of hers. "My name is Peter Parker. I have transferred here temporarily from New York." Lila didn't let her smile fail her. But him only being here temporarily is hardly worth the effort on her part. After all, he would leave eventually, and then she couldn't use him in any way. But he could be good practice for her lies anyway. Besides, she has plenty of lies that should work for a New Yorker. Lila prepared for her next performance, not realizing it was the first step in her downfall.

------------------

"You are from New York? I love New York! I visit there from time to time when my mother's work brings her there. I have a lot of friends there. I even know Tony Stark." That made Peter pause. She knew Mr. Stark? He had never mentioned a Lila or knowing anyone in Paris. It was clear to Peter that this girl was nothing but a liar. He wanted to see how far she would go with this story, and he was sure Mr. Stark would want to know as well. "You know Tony Stark? Really?" Lila saw that Peter was interested so she grabbed on to this story and continued. "Yeah! He is so sweet. He thinks of me like a daughter and sometimes I even get to stay at Stark Tower with him. I've helped him work out some of the problems with a few of his inventions. I've even given some input into his latest Iron Man suit design. There was even this one time that I helped him catch some criminals when he was acting as Iron Man. It was super cool! I could probably introduce you to him sometime if you like?" Peter was genuinely shocked by all the lies this girl just told. There was no way she actually knew Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark would never need her help with his inventions or the Iron Man suit. And he certainly wouldn't involve a random civilian girl in his fights as Iron Man. Peter just nodded and mumbled a thank you, before the class mercifully started and he was left alone. Marinette leaned over and apologized about Lila, but Peter was too busy thinking about what to do to say anything.

---------------------

At the end of the day, Peter went back to the hotel he and Mr. Stark are staying and went straight to Mr. Stark's room. Peter had spoken with Marinette about the liar and asked about everything that she had lied about. He told Mr. Stark everything that happened with the liar, and everything she had said about him. Mr. Stark was angry that this random girl was trying to use him for gain. Tony didn't tolerate this kind of thing at all. If this girl wanted to lie about him, she would find out why that is a bad idea. Tony got on the phone and started speaking to his lawyer. This Lila would regret the day she lied about him.

---------------------

The next day, Peter was sitting in class waiting for the chaos to start. He knew that Mr. Stark was coming, and that he was going to take down the liar. The liar in question was holding court down at the front of the room. She was slightly disappointed that her lies didn't seem to work too well on Peter, but it hardly mattered since he would leave eventually. He just better not try to reveal her or she would make his life difficult for the whole time he is here. About half way through the class, the door to the room slammed open, and in walked Tony Stark. He walked straight to the center of the class, and his lawyers followed, surrounding him. Peter suppressed a smile, Mr. Stark was fond of his grand entrances.

---------------

Tony looked around at the class, before zeroing in on the girl that Peter had described to him. He took off his glasses, while the class just stared at him stunned. "Lila Rossi, I have heard you have been telling lies about me. What is this nonsense I heard about you helping me with my inventions and suit? I have never met you in my life, and I certainly wouldn't need your help with my work. And you said that I put you in harms way and had you help me with my work as Iron Man. I do not tolerate slander." Tony snaps his fingers, and one of his lawyers drops a thick stack of papers on the desk in front of the liar. The liar stares at the papers in front of her, not even able to understand what is happening. "What is this?" Tony smirked at the young liar. "That is a lawsuit for slander. And before you try to hide this from your mother, because I know you have a habit of keeping things from her, you should know I have already spoken to her and sent a copy of the paperwork to your home. Maybe you will think twice before you try to lie about me again."

-------------------

At this point, Lila gave up trying to hide that she was a liar. That was clearly a lost cause. She had just been revealed in front of the whole class. And she was angry. "How did you find out about me?! I only just said that stuff yesterday! It was Marinette wasn't it?! She has been trying to reveal me for ages, it has to be her! But how did she get in touch with you?!" Tony's smirk only grew. "Actually, I don't know a Marinette. You really should be more careful who you lie too. Isn't that right Peter?" In less than a second, every head snapped around to stare at Peter. Peter took his turn to smile. "That's right Mr. Stark. You never know who someone might know." The whole class looked back and forth between the two, before Lila yelled, "YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER?! How could you know Mr. Stark!? You don't seem very important." Tony walked past Lila, and up the stairs towards Peter as he speaks. "Actually, Peter is part of the Stark Industries intern program. He actually does help me in my lab, he is very smart." The whole class was shocked by this revelation. Tony turned to face Peter and Marinette again. "You know Peter, I think we should go get some lunch somewhere. And are you Marinette? Peter told me about you. Why don't you join us." Marinette quickly agreed, still a little shocked that Tony Stark was standing in front of her and had invited her to lunch. The small group left, and the class erupted into chaos. They all turned on Lila demanding answers, asking if she had been lying the entire time. Meanwhile Lila just sat in horrified silence. Everything was over. She had been revealed. She was in so much trouble. She was being sued. And all because she lied about Tony Stark to Peter Parker, the exact worst person to lie to.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition. 

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

[cuttinqlines]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

                             IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: 2,467

a/n: sorry this took so long. im a depressed piece of shit lmao. 

taglist: @kuollut-talven @felicityofbakerstreet @bitchcraft1398 

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IT HAD ONLY been a few days since your run-in with the self-proclaimed ‘Night Stalker’ yet it felt like years had passed. The memory of the event was constantly running through your mind, seeming to occupy your every thought. It was as if your mind was filled only with visions of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. It had gotten to the point where it was consuming you, distracting you from anything that wasn’t the thought of him. It was impossible to focus. You weren’t exactly sure that you wanted to. The part of you that desperately longed for the dark stranger to reappear and tear you away from your dilapidating life was overtaking you. You had almost wished that you would have given in to his demands that night. Almost. Something had been holding you back that night and something- someone- was still holding you back, tethering you to the place you had grown to despise.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to shake away the thoughts that continuously plagued you. The ghost of a bruise still showed underneath your eye, barely noticeable with the makeup that you had delicately applied over it. You looked better than you had in the days before, but you still weren’t keen on leaving the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, let alone your apartment. You hadn’t left the house since that night. You were sure everyone thought that you were spiraling- He had probably twisted the story into that narrative. You turned away from the mirror, leaning against the base of the sink. It was time to face the situation at hand. You could already feel the silent judgment of Montana. She had told you so.  “Fuck.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that much to you- what everyone thought. It’s not like they had too much room to judge. They were your friends, sort of, but they didn’t rule you. They weren’t the end all be all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing them. It had been days of voicemails, knocks on the door, and missed phone calls. You had gone ghost. They wouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It wasn’t unlike you to disappear. You were used to disappointing everyone. 

After a few more minutes of anxiety and deliberation, you laid out a pretty white line, snorted it down, and got ready to head out the door. At the very least, you could show up to aerobics and casually run into everyone. By the time you got there, you were sure you could figure out how to gloss over all of the problems that kept on appearing. 

****

The Aerobics studio hadn’t changed much in your week of absence. The faces of the instructors were still plastered on the walls, yours still included much to your surprise. The chairs strategically placed throughout the lobby were occupied by young adults, laughing at something one of them had said. The ambiance was peaceful and you suddenly wished that you would have shown up for work in the last week. The thought quickly diminished as you thought back to the bruise that had been occupying your face. There was no way you would have shown up with that. You wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. Stepping up to the front desk, you leaned against the counter lazily. 

“Hi. Do you have any classes with vacant spaces open for today, Janice?” You asked the receptionist a bit awkwardly, looking at the wall behind her as you spoke.

The woman looked up, purposefully making direct eye contact. She looked you up and down, judgement written all over her face.  “Yes. The instructor position for the class you teach at 6:30, (Y/N). If you want to keep your job, I suggest you get prepared for it and go teach it.” 

You couldn’t help but cringe at her tone. The attitude dripped off of it like poison. Truth be told, you had thought that you had already been fired. That is generally what happens after you drop off of the face of the planet for a week. “Right- I’ll just go ahead and get set up to start, then. Thank you.”

“You’re lucky that you showed up today. You’re really pushing it with your delinquent behavior. Shape up or ship out, sweetheart. This is the last time you’re getting exceptions. You’re really lucky that Montana covered your classes for the week. Now, get moving. It’s 6:20. Studio 3.”

Janice hardly gave you time to react, as she stood up and began to push you towards the direction of the studio. Her cold touch caused an unpleasant shiver to shoot through your spine. Your mind instantly drifted to your unwelcome house guest, though the shiver he gave you was not exactly unpleasant- You mentally scolded yourself for obsessing over the ‘Night Stalker’, before practically bursting into the studio. 

It felt as if a million eyes landed on you from the moment you opened the door. The never-ending stares seemed to burn holes into your skin. One pair of eyes, in particular, seemed to stare the deepest. Xavier. You flickered your gaze to meet his, the other people in the room disappearing into a sort of tunnel that consumed the sides of your vision. Your heart caught in your chest. You wanted to tear your eyes away, but there was something stopping you. Something about Xavier always seemed to hold you back. His gaze was pleading, an apology seeming to spill out of it. 

 “(Y/N)! I thought you were going to be out for a while! Xavier said that you were like super sick or something.” Montana’s voice rang out, casually. “So happy you’re here though. Teaching this class has been such a drag.”

At the sound of the young woman’s voice, your head instinctively jerked towards it. You plastered a pained smile onto your face. “Yeah- thanks for covering for me, Montana. I seriously owe you one. Being sick was a major drag. Probably worse than teaching this class of Cyndi Lauper obsessed boys.” 

The blonde let out a laugh. “Well, since you’re back, I’ll let you take this one. And maybe take your man out when you’re done. He’s been such a buzzkill lately.” 

Montana gave you a wink, patting your shoulder affectionately. With a final wave to you and Xavier, she slipped out the door and disappeared down the hall with a flash of blonde hair. Not wanting to waste any more time, or give Xavier the chance to talk to you, you flicked the boom box on and let the sound of Billy Idol’s voice fill the room. 

****

The entirety of the class went by uneventfully. Billy Idol’s soothing tone seemed to temporarily soother your anxiety, making it easier for you to ignore the pained glances that were becoming more and more inescapable. You left the music on as the class drew to a close, turning the volume down to a soft, but audible hum. You didn’t bother to look as everyone made their way to the door. Instead, you moved towards the front of the room, letting yourself face the large windows that looked out towards the city. 

You watched as people leaving the last few classes of the evening walked down the sidewalk, off into the night. Some faces were familiar, regulars that always seemed to be in aerobics class. Other faces, unfamiliar and new. They all seemed so happy, as if their lives were perfect. You wished that you could get a taste of that feeling. You continued to admire the citizens of Los Angeles, lost in your thoughts. Then, in a sudden flash, there was a single face that stuck out in the crowd. Unmistakable dark hair and piercing eyes that could have belonged only to the face that you could never forget. You locked eyes with the man, causing a sinister smile to appear on his face. He moved closer to the building. Your heart skipped a beat. He was headed towards the door. Your eyes were still locked with his, nothing could-

“(Y/N)... Can we talk about what happened the other night? Please… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.” Xavier’s voice hit your ears, soft and pleading. 

You broke away from the ‘Night Stalker’s’ gaze, slowly turning to face the man that you had once felt so strongly for. You leaned against the windows behind you, pressing your nearly bare back against the cool glass. Xavier took a few steps closer, leaving only a few inches between your faces. You couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to tenderly touch your face. Hurt flashed across his face briefly, but his hand still gently came into contact with your soft skin. You let your eyes flutter closed and sucked in a sharp breath. “I- I can’t do this,” you whispered, hot tears pricking in the inner corner of your eyes. So many different emotions were running through your body. The urge to run away from him had never been so heightened. 

He grazed his thumb gingerly across your jawline, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Please. I just wanted it so badly and I thought that was the only way. And I didn’t want anyone to find out. The way you looked at me when you did- I lost it. I thought you would tell everyone. I thought you would leave me. I’m so sorry.” 

You had yet to respond to him when a cutting voice interrupted the scene unfolding before you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The deep voice questioned, sinister laughter etched into his tone. 

“N-?” You began, eyes flickering open. You met the dark haired man’s eyes, looking directly past Xavier. He was already staring at you intensely, the usual smirk plastered on his face. 

“Richard.” He corrected, moving his eyes from you to the other man in your company. Xavier had moved away from you by this point, looking at Richard with a suspicious glare. Richard simply continued to smirk at him, looking more and more devilish as time passed. “My little angel, didn’t expect to see you so soon. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Okay. Who the fuck are you?” Xavier demanded, his hand wrapping around your forearm in a protective manner. You instinctively recoiled to his touch. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching as the two began to go back and forth. 

“I’m the devil’s favorite prodigy. It’s more like ‘who the fuck are you?’” The other man taunted. His eyes locked on the contact point of yours and Xavier’s skin. An unreadable emotion flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with his usual infuriating smirk. “I’ve decided I’m here to collect her. Truth be told, it wasn’t originally in my master and I’s plan, but it seems like I stumbled in at the perfect time, with you harassing my girl.”

“Your-? (Y/N), are you fucking this guy? We get into one fight and you’re off giving it out to this creep?” The blonde questioned, his tone demanding and incredulous. His voice rose with every word that he spoke. He was red in the face by this point. You could tell by the clench in his jaw and the way his hand tightened around you that he was angry. The smug expression of Richard definitely wasn’t helping his reaction either.

You tried to ignore the fear that had begun to creep into the back of your mind, your mind flashing back to his closed fist accidentally ramming into your face. You looked up at him with your tear stained face. Words were failing you. You didn’t exactly want to say that Richard had broken into your house, pinned you against a wall, and sparked something inside of you that made you feel so many fucked up things. Was it really more fucked up than what you felt about Xavier after everything that he had done? You weren’t so sure any more. Xavier seemed to take your silence and lack of denial as a ‘yes’ to his questions. Disgust took over his face, his hand tossing your arm away as if it had suddenly turned into some sort of cursed object. 

He scoffed at you, shoving you away from his body. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Maybe you deserved that.” He spat out venomously, angrily gesturing to the hardly hidden  bruise underneath your eye. 

You flinched as his hand raised. Something seemed to click into place for the dark haired man as he watched the two of you, your reaction triggering the darkest part of him. You hardly had time to react further, before Richard was in front of you. His left arm pressed back against your body, gently shoving you behind him. His right hand was adorned with his blade, ready to slash at the man before him. “You did that to her? For your sake, I hope you say no. I’d hate to have to kill you right here. It would really throw a wrench into the master’s plans and we both hate that.”

Your hand reached out slowly, tugging on the edge of this sleeve, beckoning his eyes to meet your eyes. He complied, looking over his shoulder quickly. You shook your head at him, a silent plea for him to drop it. He was already acting psychotic enough to have the police called on him and you were sure that would be the last thing that he wanted. He looked back to Xavier, who was staring at him incredulously. “Get the fuck out of here or die,” The dark haired man spat out.

Xavier gave you a pointed look, before shoving past the both of you and storming out of the studio. You knew he would show up at your apartment later, demanding explanations for the psychotic interaction that just went down. You would figure out a way to avoid that later. For now, your full attention was on Richard. He turned towards you, dark eyes studying the every feature on your face. His hand hovered over the side of your neck, before gently pushing your hair to the side. His fingers softly trailed down the side of your throat, traveling down your chest. Like a phantom, they grazed the length of your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes staring straight into his. “You’re mine now, little angel. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But you have to be mine forever- That’s the catch. Will you sell your soul to the devil?”

“I will.”

[sweetteaanddragons]

Innocence

Nolofinwe’s first thought was that Feanaro had sired another son and neglected to mention it.

A second thought dismissed this as ridiculous, given a moment’s comparison between the age of the child (halfway to adolescence) and the length of time Feanaro had previously been able to resist announcing that he had another child (half a breath).

His second thought was that Curufinwe had sired a child, but given that then he would have had to miss both a birth and a marriage announcement, he was inclined to doubt it.

“I did say Atar was unavailable for a reason,” Pityo said helpfully from behind him.

“No,” Nolofinwe said after another moment of stunned silence spent exchanging stares with a bright eyed and half sized Feanaro, “you said, and I quote, “Atar is unavailable for - reasons.” Forgive me for assuming you were just trying to get rid of me.”

Feanaro had hopped up to perch on the scarred wood of his much abused workbench, presumably so he could continue the staring contest from a more equitable position. “Why do we want to get rid of you?” he asked. “Who are you, anyway?”

Nolofinwe blinked.

He wasn’t quite sure which sentence had hit him harder. It was probably better not to think about it.

“He doesn’t know who I am either,” Pityo in a voice that was clearly trying to substitute manic cheer for sanity. “I think an experiment went wrong.”

“How do you know it went wrong?” Feanaro demanded. “Maybe I was trying to do this.”

Well, at least some things hadn’t changed. “But we are accepting the premise that this was an experiment.”

Pityo looked helplessly around Feanaro’s workroom, with its profusion of strange tools, unidentifiable substances, and suspicious jewelry, as if to ask, What else could it be?

“That’s what the - my notes say,” Feanaro said, and the stumble revealed the first hint of uncertainty in this whole mess. “I think.”

Nolofinwe snatched up the closest sheaf of papers.

It immediately became apparent why Feanaro had not been able to make that statement with any more certainty.

“He’s developed another system of writing,” he said blankly. It was not quite a question. “Wasn’t coming up with one enough?”

Feanaro brightened. “I made a new system of writing? What’s it like? Will you show me?”

“It’s not a whole new system,” Pityo said at the same time. “It’s just his code. I suppose . . . “ And he gestured helplessly again, this time at his miniaturized father.

“I recognize some of it,” Feanaro said defensively. “And I figured out some of the rest. I’m sure I’ll get it eventually.”

“He’s stuck like this until he can decode his own notes?”

Pityo shook his head. “Curufinwe should be able to decode it. Probably. He taught it to all of us, it’s just . . . been a while.”

“He said I have seven sons,” Feanaro said. He sounded enormously impressed by this information. “Are you one of them?”

It took a lifetime of controlling his expression in court not to choke.

“No,” Pityo said, sounding horrified.

Nolofinwe was not particularly eager to hear how one of Feanaro’s sons would explain him.

“I’m your brother,” he said. “Nolofinwe.”

He was not at all prepared for the way Feanaro glowed.

Or for the way Feanaro flung himself off the worktable and wrapped himself around Nolofinwe like the octopus Arafinwe had once shown him.

Before Nolofinwe could react, Feanaro had already clambered up, tiny limbs jabbing into Nolofinwe and awkwardly pulling at the jewels pinned to his court finery, until Feanaro had secured himself firmly on Nolofinwe’s back, pointy chin digging into his head.

“There,” Feanaro said triumphantly. “Now I’m taller than you again.”

“Again?” Nolofinwe asked, automatically adjusting his grip on Feanaro’s legs to keep him from falling. He was abruptly thankful that Pityo had managed to dig up some child sized clothes before he got here.

“You’re my little brother,” Feanaro said matter-of-factly. “I’m taller than you.”

Nolofinwe was, in fact, about a hands-width taller than Feanaro, a fact that he was privately and perhaps bit embarrassingly proud of.

He resisted the urge to share this fact with his currently younger half-brother.

This bit of maturity was helped by the fact that he was still processing the look on Feanaro’s face when he had found out who Nolofinwe was to him.

He took a deep breath. “Back to our most urgent concern,” he said. “If Curufinwe is the only one who can translate these notes, where is he?”

Pityo bit his lip. “Out with the others, probably. We were all helping Makalaure set up for his performance at the festival tonight. I just came back to grab something and found . . . “

“Me,” Feanaro said, small arms temporarily squeezing tighter in their grip.

“Right,” Nolofinwe said. He resisted the urge to rub between his eyes. “I don’t suppose you have any idea why you were trying to make yourself younger in the first place? I assume you intended to keep your memories while you did so, but that still doesn’t explain the rest of it.”

“That’s obvious, isn’t it?” For once, Feanaro’s voice wasn’t smug, just matter of fact. “I was probably trying to figure out how to make other things younger and just tested it out on myself.”

“But why? We already have the means to preserve items - “

“But not animals,” Feanaro said, one arm releasing him so he could wave it excitedly. “Or we don’t, at least, and I bet you don’t either. If I could make this work, then people could have horses or cats that they’d never have to lose.” His voice was passionate with excitement for a project that wasn’t even really his, and for all the distance and anger between them, Nolofinwe didn’t have to wonder even for a moment why.

“But did you have to try it on yourself first?” he asked instead even though, rationally speaking, it was a waste of time to direct the question to Feanaro just now.

“I don’t think he did,” Pityo said. “There’s a loaf of bread on the table that I’m pretty sure was stale this morning, and when I opened the door to come in here, a kitten ran out. This was just . . . the next logical step.”

Nolofinwe gave him a flat look. Pityo jerked his chin up stubbornly.

Feanaro tugged on the collar of his robes to regain his attention. “Aren’t you even a little impressed, Nolo? I turned back time!”

“Of course it’s impressive,” he said, automatically reassuring. It had the benefit of also being true. “It’s just also insane.”

Feanaro was apparently not bothered by the second part of this because he settled back down almost immediately, pointy chin once again burrowing into Nolofinwe’s shoulder.

Pityo looked about to protest, but apparently he didn’t want Feanaro’s pointy chin any closer to his own shoulders because he kept his objections to himself. “Look,” he said instead. “I’ll go get Curufinwe and bring him back here to start working on things. I would have gone earlier, but I couldn’t leave him alone.”

And the last thing they needed was for word of this to spread around Tirion, which went unsaid.

Technically, of course, he was one of the people such word would have been kept from; there were a half dozen plans that could be pushed forward in the court with infinitely more ease with the knowledge that Feanaro would not be interfering for the foreseeable future, and Pityo knew it.

But it was hard to think of that while Feanaro was clinging to him like Nolofinwe’s own children had been too old to do for ages. And if Pityo hadn’t trusted him not to turn the situation to his own advantage, he at least trusted him enough to look after Feanaro now that he knew.

That was something.

So he just nodded, and Pityo took off like a deer with the whole hunt of Orome behind it.

When the door swung shut behind him, Nolofinwe turned his head so that he could better see Feanaro and said, “You’re taking this very well.”

He’d waited in case Feanaro took that as he cue to start not taking things well; he didn’t think the situation would be in any way improved by Feanaro bursting into tears in front of his son.

But Feanaro just shrugged. “It’s an adventure!” he said with a blinding grin that faded a bit into thoughtfulness. “And I’ve seen my notes in here and . . . and some of Amil’s tapestries upstairs. It looks like a house I’d have.”

And of course there was no reason to be concerned, Nolofinwe supposed; Feanaro was safe, there was no reason to suppose he’d ever be anything other than totally safe. This was Aman, not long ago Cuivenien, but still.

He supposed the world had changed since Feanaro was a child after all because he still couldn’t quite suppress a thrill of vicious vicarious unease. Feanaro in his right mind would not want to be this vulnerable, especially not in front of the half-brother that he now seemed for inexplicable reasons to adore.

But Feanaro was now squirming down from his place on Nolofinwe’s back. He let him down quickly, and Feanaro circled around and reclaimed his perch on the workbench, face suddenly very serious.

“Those weren’t the only things I saw upstairs,” he said. “I saw the bedrooms too.”

“Oh?” Nolofinwe said, at a loss as to why this, of all things, would upset a child-sized Feanaro.

Feanaro’s shoulders were tense. “I saw my bedroom,” he clarified, and when this still provoked no answer, his chin jutted out. “Don’t play stupid with me,” he insisted. “I saw. It was my bedroom, just mine. Something happened to their mother, didn’t it?”

His voice shook over the word “something.”

It probably said something too that he said "their mother" and not "my wife," but given his current age, mothers were probably an infinitely more comfortable topic, even considering the history of his own.

Nolofinwe sat down beside him. “Nothing happened to Nerdanel,” he said gently. Feanaro perked up just a little at the extra information he had just inadvertently provided, so Nolofinwe gave him some more. “That’s her name. She has hair just as red as Pityo’s, and she’s a sculptor. Her workshop should still be here. Have you seen it?”

Feanaro shook his head.

“She’s the best in Aman,” Nolofinwe said, and it was no empty flattery. “She’s gone to visit her family, that’s all. Nothing bad.”

“She went to visit her family, and she took everything with her?” Feanaro said skeptically.

Nolofinwe had come here hoping to discuss a few details of the festival with his brother before he went to push his case for the new university's funding in court. He had prepared for that. He had not prepared how to discuss the difficulties in his brother’s marriage with a child who wasn’t familiar with any possible difficulties in marriage beyond death.

“You had a fight,” he admitted.

Feanaro considered this. “Did I win?”

“That depends on how you define winning,” Nolofinwe said dryly. “But regardless, she is very much still alive.”

This seemed to satisfy Feanaro. At the very least, he moved on. “So how much older than you am I?” he asked, and there was a strange look on his face now.

Nolofinwe didn’t really see how the answer could do any harm, but something about the look on Feanaro’s face made him wary. “You had already started your apprenticeship when I was born,” he said, leaving at least a little ambivalence in case he needed it later.

Feanaro’s shoulders slumped a fraction, but he recovered quickly, leaning forward eagerly. “But I started that young, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he admitted. “You’d finished it before you were of age.”

Feanaro nodded, calculations running behind his eyes. “And I bet she didn’t have you right away,” he said, fingers tapping quickly, like a count. “They would have waited.”

“That’s . . . true,” he said warily.

“So it won’t be much longer then,” Feanaro said cheerfully. “From my perspective, I mean, I know it’s already handled here.”

Cheerfully?

Feanaro had apparently noticed his confusion because he rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot,” he said with a deep scorn that was far more familiar than any other expression he’d worn that day. “I know where babies come from. Atar couldn’t have given me a brother on his own.”

“Two brothers,” he said blankly. “Arafinwe - “

Feanaro grinned. “Even better.” But the grin faltered quickly. “Did she - blame me? When she came back, and you turned out alright, did she think it was my fault?”

When she came back.

He had wondered, earlier, just how old Feanaro was.

Too young, apparently, to know of his father’s decision to remarry.

That explained . . . a lot.

Feanaro’s face had crumpled in the face of his silence.

“Of course not,” he said. “Of course not, she would never blame you.” He wrapped an arm around Feanaro and pulled him closer.

Feanaro’s shoulders shook. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he said, stubbornly not crying. “I’m not a baby.”

“She didn’t blame you,” he invented wildly. “She blamed Atar. But she forgave him, as Arafinwe obviously proves.”

It came out almost naturally. It would have been entirely naturally if it hadn’t belatedly occurred to him just how much trouble he would be in if Feanaro asked the obvious follow-up question and demanded to see her.

Thankfully, at that moment, the muffled sound of the door to the house banging open rang out, followed quickly by the door to the workshop slamming open in its turn.

Curufinwe ran through first, and Fenaaro’s jaw dropped at the older reflection of himself.

For his part, Curufinwe’s eyes were immediately drawn to the tears still trembling in his father’s eyes. Thunder clouds immediately began to form on his face.

Maitimo was a slightly calmer presence behind him, but his face was still flushed from moving too fast in formal robes in the summer heat. “Uncle,” he said, inclining his head. “We appreciate your assistance.”

Curufinwe opened his mouth. Maitimo very firmly snatched the relevant papers from the workbench and steered him to the other end of the workroom. Curufinwe went, though he kept sending rather understandable glances back toward his Atar.

Maitimo was gentler when he approached Feanaro, kneeling so that they were at eye level. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Maitimo. Did Pityo tell you who I am?”

“You’re the one with all the letters in your room,” Feanaro said, a little warily.

Maitimo’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “That’s right.”

Curufinwe was in sweat stained work clothes, but Maitimo’s were finer; he must have visited court before going to help Makalaure. Regardless, there were jewels glinting around his neck, and Feanaro, perhaps inevitably, was drawn toward them.

“Did I make those?” he asked eagerly, successfully distracted from his earlier distress, eyes tracing the chain of gold framed rubies that looked like sparks from a fire that wrapped from Maitimo’s shoulder to his waist.

Maitimo’s smile widened. “You did,” he said. “They were a gift for my first appointment of any real substance at court.”

Feanaro’s attention turned to Nolofinwe’s own court finery and the sapphires twisted into the silver circlet in his hair. “Did I make that?” he demanded.

Nolofinwe resisted the urge to wince. “You did not.”

That was no crime, of course; it was just that this piece in particular was very pointedly not made by Feanaro. It had, in fact, been made by a Vanyarin smith who had been trumpeted as their very best, and while the Vanyar were not generally known for their smiths, some had boasted that he could challenge even Feanaro’s skill.

Commissioning the piece had been a statement, a declaration that he was not ashamed of his Vanyarin heritage, that Feanaro’s supremacy was not unchallenged, that -

Well. A lot of things. Wearing it was also always a very deliberate jab, and it was one he had been wholeheartedly in favor of this morning.

But he couldn’t tell that to the painfully earnest Feanaro of right now.

“You’ve made me others, though,” he said, which was actually true.

There was the delicate silver bracelet that had likely been a long forgotten statement of some kind that Feanaro had gifted him upon his birth. He still had it tucked into a corner of his jewel box despite the fact it was now far too small to be of any possible use. There was the necklace Feanaro had presented to him when he was still very small, and Nolofinwe had been dragged out to Tol Eressea for the first time. He had been terrified of the shadows there and of the sky so dark that stars could peek through, and Feanaro had presented him with a chain of jewels that glowed when his tiny hands squeezed them. There had been a more formal piece too, a diadem, when he reached adolescence and was formally presented to the court. Feanaro had given it to him shortly after he confessed in a tense whisper to his nerves.

There had been a handful of more minor trinkets too, but those had trailed off after that last diadem. Feanaro had been . . . distant, frequently, in his youth, but that had often been a matter of physical distance as much as anything else, and the vast gulf in their ages. When that distance had been crossed, he had been - kind, in that fierce way of his, especially when Nolofinwe had felt weak and most in need of him.

It was when Nolofinwe had proven himself strong that the tension between them had truly arisen as a force in its own right instead of merely an echo of their parents’ lives. Childish fears of the dark had melted, and a gift for persuasion and rhetoric had sent him on a meteoric rise in courtly influence in their place.

It had not meant the end of gifts, exactly; Feanaro had as much desire to appease their father as Nolofinwe did, and so the gifts had continued at all appropriate occasions. It was just that they were never from Feanaro’s own hand anymore, and with only a few small exceptions, he strongly suspected them to have been selections of first Nerdanel and then Maitimo.

But there had been one exception, even to that. It had, ironically enough, been presented to Nolofinwe shortly after he had first worn the set he was currently draped in.

Unlike every other piece Feanaro had ever given him, the chains had been gold. Most of the jewels had been blue, glowing with a faint light, like the light of the Mingling reflected on the ocean, but the centerpiece, the largest jewel, had been like blood spreading on the water.

A violent image, but still beautiful.

It had been a statement, just like Nolofinwe’s own commission, only he had never been entirely certain of the extent of the statement involved. That it had been a defense of Feanaro’s superior craftsmanship was certain, and also a point it was difficult not to concede. The piece looked like a song given form, and it was difficult to tear his eyes away from it when it was in sight.

The rest of it, though - and there surely must be a rest of it - was less certain, and so for the most part, Nolofinwe left it quietly in its box.

Just this once, though, it surely couldn’t do much harm.

“If you’re still like this tomorrow, I’ll wear it then,” he promised.

Feanaro’s dark mood vanished for a moment before being replaced by new urgency. “We can’t wait that long! I have to be older again by tonight.”

Tension immediately reentered the room.

“Oh?” Maitimo asked with forced calm. “Did you see something concerning in your notes?”

Feanaro shook hs head. “No, but Pityo said Makalaure’s concert was tonight, and he said I couldn’t leave the house until I was back to normal, so I have to be back to normal by tonight, I have to.”

Maitimo smiled as the tensions slowly drained out again. “I’m sure he’ll understand, just this once.”

But Feanaro shook his head fiercely. “Atar always comes when he says he will,” he said firmly. “I have to do the same thing.”

“You can help me decode these if you want,” Curufinwe offered. “It would go faster.”

Feanaro hesitated a moment, but an encouraging smile from Nolofinwe sent off him quickly.

Nolofinwe looked after him for a long moment before turning back to Maitimo. “I hate to do this to you,” he said in a low voice, “but I do have other matters to attend to before the festival begins. If there’s nothing else I can do . . . ?”

“Of course,” Maitimo said. “Let me show you out.”

“Good,” he said, rising. “There’s a few things you should probably know . . . “

He explained his lies with a hint of guilt as Maitimo showed him to the door, but if Feanaro's eldest resented them, he said nothing of it.

He should at least say goodbye. He knew he should. He would be late to see Atar if he did, but Atar would never hold it against him, especially if he explained the cause.

He just - couldn't.

. . .

He hadn’t wanted to leave, exactly, but with both Feanaro and his sons pouring over the notes, Nolofinwe had little doubt the issue would be resolved quickly.

He simply preferred not to be standing right there when it was.

He had no idea whether or not Feanaro would remember what had happened. He wasn’t sure which alternative would be worse.

Either way, he would return to find things largely unchanged by his absence. He had resisted the urge to tell the king what had happened. They would have to if things persisted, of course, but he truly did not think they would, and in the meantime - it felt like a betrayal, as absurd as that was, to reveal Feanaro's joy at what could have been to anyone else.

Perhaps that was why as he dressed for the concert, he couldn’t quite help his hand lingering over a certain box.

It wasn’t quite what he had promised, but it was probably the best he could do.

And it was, after all, almost certainly the finest he owned. It was a shame to let a few complications keep it hiding in the dark.

. . .

(The concert is out in the open, great flocks of elves streaming through the festival streets to gather around the stage. Nolofinwe walks with his wife on his arm, waiting for the first golden note.)

(It is struck just as the Mingling starts. The light shimmers as it dances off the jewels on Nolofinwe’s chest.)

(For just a moment, through the crowd, he spots Feanaro, once more only a hand’s width shorter than Nolofinwe’s own height.)

(Feanaro does not approach him.)

(But his gaze catches on the dazzling jewels, and just for a moment, his half-brother smiles.)

[skalidra]

What about SlaJay? Do you see them working in canon?

No, honestly. Not really. Slade and Jason have, in comics, met I believe a grand total of once.

It's in New 52, the Deathstroke comic. Slade is having a real bad time and part of that real bad time was that Jason took a job to essentially delay him. (Why is Jason taking random mercenary jobs to distract professional assassins? I don't think it's ever explained.) Slade is weakened by some real nasty poisons or something, they fight, and Jason mostly wins. Then some bullshit or something happens, and Jason ends up working with Slade very temporarily to help save(?) Rose from.... Someone.

This ends with Jason literally getting mind-controlled and just walking off. No I am not kidding. He walks off and doesn't come back and it's never mentioned again.

Other connections between them include Jason (also in New 52) having Rose as an ex. (This was part of the weird New 52, 'let's give Jason a bunch of hot girlfriends' movement.) A completely dropped RHatO plotline that teased that Slade might take a contract on Jason/Roy/Koriand'r. And... That's it, honestly. At least that I know of. They might have seen each other in Event Leviathan but I don't think so.

There have been a couple interactions in other comics, outside of the main canon. DCeased, Arkham Knight: Genesis, and uh, one that had Robin Jason going after Slade because he thought he killed Bruce, or something. (That one has a weird, aggressive, frankly mean Bruce so it's probably some grimdark writer jerking.)

It's no longer an issue of having bad history, it's an issue of having no history. These two characters pretty much don't run in the same circles, and while they of course know of each other, they don't actually know each other at all. There's really no reason for them to care about each other, and no reason for that to change. I wouldn't trust any DC writer to handle a relationship with Slade and Jason getting together, given that it would require building the relationship basically from nothing, plus all the other inherent challenges with representation, and etc. (I don't generally trust comics to build credible relationships in general, frankly.)

Also, ifJason is going to have any canon gay relationship, Roy is really the only logical choice (or maybe that childhood friend that popped up towards the end of RH:O). Why put him in a relationship with someone twice his age he's barely even met?

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

[tainted-wine]

Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in your ask did you insinuate that you wanted this but I couldn’t resist getting thirsty because...you know. Thinking about it, I may have been subconsciously inspired by @bibbidi-bobbidi-birb​ and her amazing Seven Deadly Birds series. If you want some real magical Hawks action, go read her beautiful fic Gula!

What do you call a hummingbird version of Hawks? Hums?

This rambling-turned-ficlet contains Microphilia, Noncon/Dubcon, Forced oral(receiving), and Yandere vibes. Just pervy fairy!Hawks in a fantasy AU.

Anyway Hawks is a tiny bastard that has completely ruined fairies for you. Everyone in this village, a village built in the middle of an enchanted forest, welcomes the small magical beings whenever they’re spotted flying about. You knew that fairies had a reputation for being tricksters, but Keigo...

You didn’t know it was possible for someone the size of your hand to be such a menace. You should have never acknowledged him. You shouldn’t have commented on his rose wings as he hovered over your flowers, the shimmering feathers appearing to change color at every angle. You shouldn’t have given him that small dish of sweet syrup as you thanked him and his kind for using their magic to keep the humans safe from the more wicked inhabitants of the forest.

His obsession with you began on that very same day you met. At first it was endearing, the way he fluttered around you, embarrassing you with backhanded compliments that only a fairy can make sound flattering.

“You’re pretty good-looking yourself, for a smelly human at least.”

Everyday he would ask for another sugary treat to slurp up, the sweetness of his voice hiding the fact that he never takes no for an answer. He’d passive aggressively question you, because what’s more important than showing a little gratitude to a creature that’s just trying to protect you?

When he isn’t forcing you to feed him, he’s following you around like a pesky bug, expecting you to make conversation. Ignore him and he’ll buzz loudly in your ear or tug on your hair. Whatever task you’re handling can’t be more important than a generous fairy asking for a little company. His questions become a bit too invasive for your liking.

“Have any of the men here caught your eye?”

“No? And why not? Are they missing something?”

“So are you still a maiden?”

“You are? Then you must taste sweeter than anything you’ve given me so far! Why not offer yourself?”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but it frightened you. The old tales never mentioned fairies consuming human flesh or drinking blood.

He only became more aggressive and less respectful of your privacy as time went on. One night you noticed too late that he found a way into your home and was calmly watching you bathe, laughing when you screamed and jumped out of the small tub without thinking and revealing your nude body to him.

“Can I drink from you?”

You say no.

One morning you wake up to find him curled up and sleeping soundly on your chest. You react by smacking him and sending him flying into a wall. As much as you’ve grown to detest him, you still panic over the fact that you just harmed a fairy.

He smirks when he sees your fear, despite how dazed he was.

“I’ll forgive you if I can drink from you.”

You say no.

Keigo frowns and, instead of pressuring you like you expected, flies away on his damaged wings. When he doesn’t return that day or the day after, you think that he has finally left you alone.

You had your first terrible nightmare the next time you slept. They got more intense every night, dreams of shadowy beasts violently tearing you limb from limb. For awhile you try different herbs and remedies in hopes of getting a peaceful sleep, but they all fail. You begin to fear sleep, dragging your feet through the streets with dark and heavy eyelids.

Then the hallucinations haunt you. Your neighbors are starting to keep their distance, whispering to each other about the times when you suddenly collapse and scream, raising your hands in front of you as if a monster is lunging at you. “She’s gone mad.”

One night, as you sit on your bed and try to blink away the horrid creatures, Keigo returns.

You’re already on your hands and knees the second you see him and realize he isn’t a part of your own cruel delusions. You beg him to save you from whatever this is, whatever evil has suddenly taken hold of your mind. He takes a long look at your sad state before answering to your pleas.

“I can save you, if you let me drink from you.”

It only scares you for a second before you accept, ready to give him anything he wants. It can’t be worse than the horrors you’ve been experiencing these past days.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the order to remove all of the clothing below your waist. When you hesitate, he motions to turn around and exit out of your window, which quickly makes you panic again as you shakily fumble with your garments.

It was the first time you exposed yourself to someone. Keigo may not be a human male, but judging by the many times he’s casually ogled you, he’s probably just as wolfish as one.

You’re told to lie back on the bed and spread your legs. The embarrassment is almost strong enough to overpower your drowsiness and week-long headache. The fairy flies and lands between your thighs, standing right in front of your virgin womanhood.

Small hands touch your lips all over. “What a beautiful flower. I’ve been dreaming about how sweet your nectar tastes since you first spoke to me.” He presses the hooded bud at the top and chuckles when your hips jolt.

Oh gods, is this what he means by drinking? No...

You’re afraid to close your eyes, afraid of whatever terrifying demons await you in the darkness, but you simply don’t have the strength to watch him violate you like this.

You don’t see, but you sure do feel the slender and very long invasion inside of you, a foreign and shameful feeling, but admittedly not unpleasant. It darts in and out of you rapidly, your nerves struggling to keep up with the speed of sensations. He’s feeding from you just like he would from a flower or a cup of sugar water.

The avian tongue is small yet brings you so much pleasure that it chases away your fears. You fight to keep your quivering thighs from closing and crushing the feasting fairy, your pussy contracting as more juices flow to soak him. 

He’ll occasionally come up for air and comment on how delicious you are, how juicy your petals are once you fully bloom, and how you’ve officially spoiled him and will no longer be satisfied by any of your sugary gifts. 

His nimble muscle works fast at collecting your moisture, pressing against your walls just enough to make you whimper as a strange pressure grew inside of your belly. You eventually gain the courage to look down, though all you can really see is a pair of wings that will sometimes happily flutter.

Keigo is still gorging himself when the tension in your gut suddenly snaps with a burst of pleasure strong enough to temporarily smother the darkness. It has you screaming into the night, and if the village wasn’t already convinced that you were insane, someone probably would have ventured out to check on you. He climbs up your stomach and rests on your chest when he finishes, completely drenched and proud of it.

He promises that the shadows will slowly go away, and you want to embrace his small form. You haven’t forgotten how despicable he’s been, but you owe him your life, or at the very least your sanity. You still shy away when he informs you that he needs to feed from you at least once a day to ensure your mind remains free. As incredible as it felt, it will always be difficult to just open your legs and allow his tongue inside your most intimate spot.

As for Keigo, he can’t believe how well this plan went. Now he can go tell his fellow fairies that you have finally made amends for your unreasonable behavior. 

When you had the audacity to smack him into a wall, he fled into the depths of the forest and alerted the others of his injuries. Enraged by the harm you brought upon one of their own, they lifted their protective magic over you, leaving you vulnerable to the evils of the woods. It truly was sad watching the unseen forces torment you, but you needed to be taught a lesson for denying him so many times and daring to strike him.

Your protection will return once he gives them the news, but you'll never know that. Instead, you’ll believe that he is keeping you safe all on his own, with the work of his mouth and ravenous appetite. It sounds ridiculous to his own ears, but it’s not like you silly humans understood fairy magic well enough to know better.

He can’t help it. You’re the sweetest flower in these woods, and he’s going to keep you all to himself.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello A-Chan, this is my first time requesting ever, but I was really hooked onto your blog so I thought I’d give it a shot! Could you do prompt 46 with Asura from Naruto? Also, how are you doing?

I love Asura, not gonna lie. I love such guys a lot. I would say regarding boys that is my type. I would like to say that I'm fine, but I am nervous as hell for next week since it'll be one exam after another

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, slight angst, paranoia

Prompt 46: “Can I...can I kiss you?”

There were days where you had seen Asura being discouraged, where you had seen him being partially down, disappointed from everyone only seeing his brother as worthy and him as more of an airhead. There had been days where you had witnessed that he as well had his moments of sadness and regret.

But right now this was something completely different, something much more serious than what you had witnessed so far. But could you blame him? After all that had happened the last few days? After Indra’s betrayal? And after Asura had been made the next leader? He was currently carrying a lot of responsibility and sorrow on his shoulder and due to his stubbornness to put his own problems over the ones of the villagers he was brewing everything in himself together, keeping everything for himself. Maybe because he didn’t want to discourage the villagers by letting them see that their leader was currently having his own problems and maybe also because he didn’t want to risk his brother risking the chance to attack again.

His brother was almost like an invisible weapon hanging tight over everyone’s head, no one knew when he would come again which made everyone extremely uneasy. That was why Asura refused to give himself some rest, refused to show his feelings too openly. He was the hope for everyone and if he would crumble, they would slightly panic and he didn’t want everyone worrying over him.

But you were his spouse, you had the right to know such things and since you knew him better than many others, since the youngest childhood days, he didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you. Even if he did, you could tell if he was lying or not and whenever you started consoling him, he ended up breaking a bit down in front of you to reveal his vulnerable feelings and all the pain and doubts he was hiding under all of his happiness and joy. He was a human as well and you didn’t expect him to be all the time positive. Of course it was nothing bad, it was a good thing he was the way he was. Maybe he was sometimes just a bit...inexhaustible. But you had learned to endure him and all his clinginess and his sometimes too sweet behavior.

But it was rare for him to be seen whilst being distraught or radiating off sadness and disappointment. But that was what you had found him like when you had woken up in the middle of the night in bed, with him having positioned himself so that his head had been burried in your hair, arms having wrapped themselves tightly around your form so you could not escape with a tight grip that gave you the feeling that he was silently begging for comfort and his breath being slightly erratic. It was not the first time you had seen him being like this, it happened every once in a while, but since he had pleaded you to not tell anyone, you had kept quiet about it. Only his father knew.

“Was it about Indra again?”, you asked him, turning your body a bit so your back was now laying on the mattress and so that you could face him a bit better. He did not answer instantly, but he nodded after a while, a untypical depressed look in his eyes. He looked exhausted and tired, and you didn’t mean because he had woken up late at night, but because right now he was done with all that had happened, all the piled up feelings getting to him. Those nightmares of him were one of those things that had happened only a while after his brother had left and nearly killed everyone and Hagoromo had told you that this might be a result from all the stress and the loss of his older brother whom Asura had cared for very much.

“Do you want to tell me about it? Was there anything different this time?”, you continued to talk to him, running your fingers a bit through his brown hair in order to calm him down. “You know you can tell me everything. I’m here Asura, I’ll always be.”

Mentioning it seemed to bring back unpleasant memories judging from the way his body went suddenly a bit rigid, muscles tensing up. Something had definitely happened to him. “Take your time. You can tell me or don’t, I’m fine with both. Whatever you feel most comfortable with.”

“He-he...” Asura did not even want to speak it out loud, struggling with his words which he couldn’t piece together in that one moment, mind being too much in chaos from the dream he just had to think normally just yet.

You had patience though, you knew no one had been more shattered from the recent events than Asura had. Of course you had been close to Indra too, though you now were sure he didn’t think of you as a friend anymore, looking back on how he had launched at you back then, knowing how much you meant to his brother. And it had been one of the very few times Asura had truly been infuriated with him, a temporarily darker look having crossed his face and for a few moments he had attacked with his brute strength as well which had even shocked his brother and had turned out to be the one moment where Asura had managed to finish him off with the help of the others.

“He killed you. He killed you and I couldn’t do anything against it. All I could do was watching you die.” His voice was trembling a bit. It might have been only a dream, but it seemed to mess with Asura still pretty badly, maybe because he knew that this might have really happened and might happen again with Indra’s current plan and whereabouts unknown was taking it’s toll on him as well.

“It’s fine Asura. It was only a dream. I am still here, aren’t I?”, you tried to cheer him up a bit. He didn’t look so sure when he looked up, though a small smile graced his features when he saw you looking slightly concerned down at him. “Your hair looks quite funny.”

With your free hand you twirled a strain of your hand in your hand before shrugging with your shoulders and letting go of it again. “I just woke up so you can’t exactly expect me to look like I just came out of a full dress-up. Also, for someone who is currently wanting my comfort so badly, you don’t exactly use the right methods.”, you teased slightly playfully, nudging him slightly.

“I still think even with this kind of hairstyle you look stunning. For me you always look stunning, no matter what.”

You scoffed a bit, trying to hide the fact that you were flattered by him and his charm, though it was a good sign that he was getting so flirty with you again, it meant he was starting to feel better.

“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve someone as pretty and great as you. You were always there for me, no matter what.”, he mumbled, placing the one hand who was still playing with his hair over yours and guiding it to his face and letting it rest on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Well, we did promise when we were you get we would marry each other, didn’t we? Though I remember that I rejected at first and you constantly trailed behind me and continued to propose to me at least once a day. You always plucked flowers or tried to cook something for me in hopes to charm me.”, you answered, giggling a bit when remembering all those times he had asked you to marry him like some lovesick fool, though he had stayed that way the complete time, the only difference now was that you were married to that man. Asura had never given up once, no matter how much you had rejected him as a child. It had helped him reaching your heart with his ambition and the fact that he had never given up once.

“I know, I probably was a bit annoying back then. But I just knew from all the way back then that you were the person I wanted to marry. Thank you for saying yes and marrying me. Thank you for being with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. As I said, I’ll be here for you. Always. Also, please stop talking like this. You’re embarrassing me.” He was currently being a bit too much of a romantic talker for your taste, making you flustered despite having been attacked by this more than anyone else had.

Your reply made Asura grin a bit, sitting slowly up to meet you face to face, the previous look of fear having succumbed a bit, warmth having returned to them. “Thank you for helping me. I feel a lot better now.”, he told you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t like when you’re sad. But I’m also glad you do try to hide it from me do I can help you to start with. But Asura,”, you gave him a serious look,”please keep in mind that Indra leaving us was not your fault. It was his own decision and no one could have stopped him from going, even if we would have knocked him out and dragged him back. Understood?”

He glanced for a short moment away, hesitation filling his expression for a short moment before he sighed a bit. “That is easier said than done. I still feel like I could have done more. But you’re right, I don’t believe that I could have stopped him, no matter what I might have tried. Next to that he tried to destroy the village and to kill you.” For a millisecond you thought his expression darkened again, though it was hard to tell since it was not that easy to see him properly whilst it was night.

But it was rather quickly gone and from the way he kept glancing at your lips, you forgot rather quickly about that.

“Can I...can I kiss you?”

“We’re married silly. So why even asking? We’ve kissed before.”, you scoffed.

Asura was a bit taken aback when hearing you say this before scratching his neck embarrassed. “No reason to sound so harsh.”, he replied sheepishly before leaning closer and locking his warm pair of lips with you, loosening up a lot by doing so, feeling new energy flowing through him.

“Better now?”, you asked slightly amused afterwards. Asura nodded, grinning the usual bright way he always did. “Great, then let’s go back to sleep. It’s still late at night.”, you grumbled, finally letting the tiredness getting the better of you and sliding down into the blankets, soon being accompanied by Asura who seemed different from you more awake, something still on his mind.

“You know, I still hope that my brother will eventually come back to his senses and return to the village though I don’t think he will. But if he should ever try to hurt you again like he did the last time despite you having been one of his best friends...I won’t spare him just because he is my brother. I won’t let him hurt you.”

[sepublic]

The Third Temple!

           SASHA you’re so DUMB, dang it! WHY would you?! WHY?!

           Sasha, you really ARE brute force, in spite of your seemingly more subtle, nuanced, and manipulative strategies on the surface… Superficially you think things through, you have plans and rely on Honey over Vinegar… But fundamentally, I think it’s clear that Sasha is someone who gets by through brute force, in the sense that she blindly throws her power around, instead of genuinely conceding to diplomacy and whatnot. And, this plays into her Persistence, and never giving up, as we see against those two bullies in the flashback…

           Also, lemme just say- The dehydrated bit for the Amphibians was hilarious and also a clever way to isolate the conflict to just the humans, and THEN just Anne and Sasha- Because alas, Marcy’s weak nerd arms…!

           Seriously though, seeing how Grime lowkey lays the pressure, I like how it displays that they’re both… Toxic and enabling to one another, even if supportive, and it’s not like just ONE is in charge or whatever. Sasha having to choose between Anne and Marcy, and Grime, is interesting; To her, Grime is someone who stuck with her through thick and thin, at her lowest point… He’s someone who’s not afraid of her power, but even actively encourages her, supports Sasha’s ruthlessness! In some ways, it seems he’s more supportive and understands Sasha better than her old friends…

           And, I have to think that Sasha wasn’t totally lying back there. That a part of her DID in fact feel remorse, or at least understand that she messed up… But it also means that she’s burnt that bridge permanently on her own end, or she’s trying to- Because she thinks that it’s too late, she’s just going to mess things up AGAIN anyway, because Anne and Marcy can’t handle the kind of person she is. So, Sasha is sticking with Grime… But again, Sasha has to wonder if Anne and Marcy have a point, and that’s something Grime doesn’t realize…. But then again, why WOULD he bring up Sasha’s flaws, in the midst of his own rebellion, which IS important to him!

           I think Sasha and Grime being a lot alike could make her realize what kind of impact she has on others, by realizing how she feels about Grime; And how Grime might realize the same vice-versa. In Grime’s case, he very much NEEDS to be ruthless in order to survive, in order to carry out his Toad Rebellion… And, he’s not completely wrong for it, either!

           For all we know, Sasha apologizing, and manipulating Anne and Marcy, isn’t totally mutually exclusive; Maybe she DID take Percy and Braddock a little bit to heart, in the sense that… She does care, but she also realizes that Andrias is pretty sus, and that they NEED to do something about him. To Sasha, she really is looking out for them by getting rid of Andrias… But how much of her is motivated by genuine suspicion of him, or just her own ulterior motives of getting back power and control?

           This could lead to a confrontation where Sasha NEEDS to be listened and heard out, because a part of her IS right about Andrias… But because of her own lies and treachery, Anne rightfully doesn’t trust her- And it’s complicated because in some ways, Sasha IS operating more from being selfish than doing the right thing, even if it’s ultimately siding with Sasha that is the right choice here. This could spur on Anne to side with Marcy and Andrias, perhaps help the Newt King in whatever he has planned… Or, it could lead to Anne realizing the Newts aren’t trustworthy as well, breaking those bridges!

           With what we see in the intro with Marcy, for all we know we’re being expected to think of Sasha as the betrayal, but it’s MARCY who screws things over! She did mention about how she wanted to bring the Calamity Box to Andrias first, so I imagine this has something to do with her deal… Perhaps Andrias will use the power in the Box, safely contained instead of in the girls, to help bring his master to power? Now I’m imagining a Breath of the Wild scenario, where ‘The Night’ rises to power like Calamity Ganon, engulfing Newtopia- This is of course more tragic because we got to KNOW Newtopia and its people…

           But even worse- Its power spreads out and it uses the Calamity Box power to revive the ancient machines of Amphibia, possibly even corrupting Frobo in particular- Just like Ganon with the Guardians! If Season 3 is Toad-themed, this could lead to Sasha and her rebellion teaming up with Anne and the others to regroup and defeat the Night… And as for Marcy, perhaps she’ll play the role of Princess Zelda; She’ll realize her mistakes, and pull some sort of sacrifice to keep the Night contained temporarily… Or even worse, Andrias will manipulate her into staying with them!

           Perhaps Marcy knows the truth about the gems draining power, that they’re needed to travel home; So Andrias proposed to have the power safely drained by the temples, and handed over to him, so that the girls could stay in Amphibia together, forever, never losing that fantasy of theirs… Who knows?

           I will say that it’s telling that Marcy, of course with the excuse of no Toad Tower incident, is immediately quick to fall into line with Sasha, and how this could play into her character being more generally gullible, possibly willfully so, because her default is to follow whoever’s in charge blindly… Ironic, then; Marcy is smart but not wise, Sasha is powerful but too weak to do the right thing and show vulnerability, and Anne is brave, but often held back by insecurities and doubt! These girls are their own antithesis!

           And Sasha… She needs to have the self-belief in herself, the way Anne and Marcy do- To actually do the right thing, to grow as a person. To not resign herself to who she is now, and even worse, because she believes in her own ability to improve and be better than that… Sasha needs to not let down Anne and Marcy’s trust, to make good on why it was given in the first place! Pay back their good faith in her, be the hero and leader they believe her to be!

           …Anyhow, I like Frobo’s brief involvement here- I’m glad to see he got to do more, and the gags with the dehydration, how I THOUGHT Grime’s arms seemed a bit skinnier than usual, were great! I like to see more of Frobo becoming more integrated into the family and cast, and I’d like to see how he, Sasha, and Grime would interact; Him being a powerful automaton might create some interest, perhaps in weaponizing and reactivating the Ruins of Despair… And of course, it’d complicate things for them to pull a full betrayal, considering Frobo’s power- Perhaps he’ll help against people like Yunnan, maybe even do a heroic sacrifice to help the others escape Newtopia, only to be destroyed or corrupted?

           I love how painfully direct the Third Temple was, how it’s really just about brute, raw strength- But making good on that strength to keep going, too! The gravity bit and Sasha removing her armor was classic anime characters with absurd weights, and I suspect that giant Toad golem is actually none other than the previous Toad we saw with Andrias… And, possibly Barrel himself! The golem conceding defeat with good sportsmanship probably gives us a good idea of what Barrel was like- Probably a much more boisterous, heart-on-your-sleeve individual…. Arguably way less toxic and manipulative than Sasha, perhaps the most traditional hero of the trio!

           Funny, then, that the trio first had the Wit be toxic… And now Strength… AND Wit, perhaps? We’ll see… Either way, I now suspect that Barrel talks the same way as the messages in the Third Temple!

           We’re in the final stretch, you guys… Nothing but pure plot and development, Sasha and Grime and the others, attempted reconciliation. If we saw Anne and the family try to say goodbye at Newtopia, this is going to take on a WHOLE new level, because Anne is going to think she’s really about to leave, for REAL this time; And this means teary farewells with all of Wartwood, and likely a montage and episode even MORE painful than our mid-point for this show! My heart isn’t ready… In addition to probably cute antics among the human girls, underscored by the darkness of what we KNOW is to come, no less!

           Until next time, F-Anne’s… We’re about to enter the calm, BEFORE the Storm!

[anya-grace]

Two beautiful people sent me an ask about my rivetra actors au, and boyyyy let me tell you, it was so fun making them again 😍 thank you to the pretty souls who asked this! 💘

The first actors au were from season 1 and 2, this one will focus on the filming of season 3 until the last season :) here you go!

more rivetra actors!au headcanon (some are nsfw-ish)

- Let me get straight to the point: lots of sex. Car sex. On-set sex. Dressing room sex. Name it.

- Both of them are aware that it was unprofessional, but there was a time when they did not see each other for more than a month because of their (especially Levi’s) busy and conflicting schedule, so when Petra surprised him on set, the frustration and longing just piled up and they had sex.

- Then it became a habit.

- And this habit, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by the other casts and even crews of the show. Armin heard them once, and the poor boy made a mental note to never ever come close to Levi’s room again.

- The older casts are fine with it since, you know, normal adult stuff. But for the love of the three Walls, can you lovebirds tone the moaning down? People are trying to get some sleep wtf.

- Levi’s make-up artist had to deal with the pain of covering his hickeys (courtesy of Ms. Petra Ral) every shoot. The ones on his neck, especially those near his adam’s apple were the most visible. And since Captain Levi rarely wore a cravat in season three, part one, it made the work harder for the make-up artist.

- As compensation, Petra always bought a special souvenir for Levi’s make-up artist whenever she flies overseas for her theater shows.

- For the premiere of season 3, Levi took Petra as his date on the red carpet. It was the first event they attended publicly as a couple.

- It was a big milestone for their relationship because they are both public figures. And we all know what happens when celebrities publicize their relationships, it is prone to issues and controversies.

- And you can very well guess that Levi Ackerman showing off his beautiful girlfriend to the press was big news. As big as the AoT premiere even.

- During the air of season three, Levi became more famous and he attracted many overseas fans as well as international actresses because of his brilliant scenes with Kenny.

- Although Petra is not the jealous type, she admitted that somehow it affected her when other international actresses expressed their admiration towards Levi. Some even said that Levi is their type and they are looking forward to working with him in the future.

- When Levi sensed this, he immediately headed to his IG and posted a picture of Petra with a very cheesy caption lmao. Forgive him, he's new to this kind of relationship.

- Did I mention he also posted a picture of them kissing in front of the Eiffel tower?

- Only a few know this, but the real Levi is one clingy boyfriend.

- He is very touchy when it comes to Petra. He just really loves holding her. Sometimes he just randomly hugs her, caresses her, nuzzles her. He just loves having skin-to-skin contact with her.

- His love language is actions and gestures.

- His favorite gesture to do to Petra is a back hug with his arms under her boobs. It was a soft gesture and it wasn't sexual in any way...until it did.

- More than half of their sex started with Levi touching Petra’s underboobs tbh.

- Sometimes Levi thinks that he's neglecting Petra and more than once he considered quitting the show business for her. But then he’ll see her smiling at him, and she tells him that she's very proud of what he’s doing and that she's happy that she gets to support him with doing the things he is really passionate about and just… all he could think of that time is that he wants to marry this amazing woman.

- He is also supportive of Petra’s theater actress career, of course. And he hates the fact that he needs to hide whenever he watches one of her shows since people eventually gather around him asking for an autograph and he feels that it’s rude for Petra. This is her moment and he doesn’t want to ruin it for her.

- Hence, his all-black and mysterious get-up whenever he watches her show.

- AoT season three was a huge success and plans for season four are already on the move. Casts were given a long break before the shooting began again and both Petra and Levi took this as a chance to bond together.

-Petra's favorite thing to do with Levi is playing with animals. She has a soft spot for animals, and she wanted for them to adopt a pet but she knew that the poor animal will only be given less attention because both of them are always busy.

-When Petra's theater world tour ended, she and Levi started living together. They didn't have the chance to do it before since they were both busy.

-Them living together is probably the height of their relationship. They fought, they had sex, they laughed, they played, they bathe together. They did everything together and it was a beautiful experience.

- For their third anniversary, Levi booked a vacation on a private island for a week. It was also their last bonding because Levi is going to start filming again for season four in less than a month.

- They did not communicate with anyone during that one week. It was just them, and they made the most of it.

- Mornings were spent for morning sex and breakfast in bed. Afternoons were for swimming, sleeping, cuddling, hugging, kissing, and every activity they could think of doing. They explored the island, they petted stray animals, they dived into the ocean, they build sandcastles, they ate different dishes, they had sex in caves and while swimming on the beach, they climbed trees, they bought souvenirs, and most importantly, they took many pictures together.

- Evenings were the most romantic of all. They had sex in the darkness of their own room while they hear the ocean waves crashed to the shore outside and as the sea breeze cooled their sweat-slicked skin. They took the time to explore each other’s body like it’s their last (because it will be in a matter of days).

- On their last night, Pet cried while they’re having sex. Levi’s face was buried on the crook of her neck and she was moaning one moment, and then the next she’s sobbing like a poor little baby.

- She said that she’d gotten used to life with Levi always by her side and she didn’t want it to ever change. Levi comforted her. He petted her hair, and he said that it’s going to be okay. He kissed her head, then her hair, her face, and her body. Then they had the most emotional and meaningful sex of their entire life.

- Levi started shooting again for season four. Petra, like the past seasons, visits him as much as she can. It was hard adjusting to this type of life again, but she’s a strong woman. And besides, she’s going to start rehearsing for another theater show again.

- They need to undergo medical check-ups before the casting and she found out then that she is pregnant with Levi’s baby.

- It freaked her out. She and Levi never talked about babies before since they’re busy with their careers, and their relationship has always been just the two of them.

- Levi was out of town for the shoot, and she didn’t want to tell him the good news on the phone so she patiently waited until he got home.

- He was greeted with a fancy dinner, and a “Welcome home, Daddy” by Petra. Levi thought that it was her being cheeky and naughty at first, but when dinner ended and she ran for her life to the sink, that’s when he started getting worried. And when Petra showed him the positive result in her medical check-up, well, let’s just say that on that day, Levi Ackerman received a good reminder of what he did to her on their vacation months ago.

- But seriously, he was seconds away from calling his manager and dropping his AoT contract just so he can take care of Petra and their baby. Petra said that it was fine, and she doesn’t want him to quit.

- Levi apologized to Petra many times because he wasn’t there when she discovered it, but she assured him that it was alright and it wasn’t his fault. God, he’s with the perfect woman.

- Since Levi is a big shot in the industry, he demanded control over his schedules. Honestly, he wanted to be at her side 24/7. He wanted to see her belly swell as months went by. He wanted to be the one to satisfy her midnight pregnancy cravings. He wanted to kiss her face and her belly first thing in the morning.

- He convinced Petra to move temporarily to the Ackerman family house where Levi’s parents are staying. Kenny and Mikasa also lived in the same affluent neighborhood. He had doctors, and helpers, and bodyguards hired for Petra. But she said that she’s too uncomfortable with many people around her.

- Petra and Levi’s mom build a bond of their own. She’d gotten to know more of Levi through his mother’s perspective. The older woman showed her Levi’s teenage room, his past awards, his photos, his audition tapes that weren’t out for the public, and she fell in love with him more.

- They had a super private wedding with their relatives and closest friends. Petra was six months pregnant by that time and season four is planned to air three months from now.

- So, you know about that one holy Rivetra panel where Petra is looking back to Levi? The reason why the scene was not in the actual show was that she is pregnant. That’s why the directors are forced to use old scenes from season one instead.

- Despite all the efforts of being private, paparazzi and the media still caught wind of the secret wedding, and rumors about Petra being pregnant started circulating over the internet. Levi shut down these rumors every time someone attempted to question him in his interviews.

- When the shooting ended, Petra was already eight months into pregnancy. As per tradition, the cast and staff held an after-party, but Petra was surprised when it became a baby shower for her instead.

- The baby was supposedly due in the third week of December, but Petra’s water broke around the first week instead and she started her labor. She ended up having the same birthday as their healthy baby boy.

- The baby was named River Ackerman. He was named after Levi’s role where he won the Best Actor Award when he was seventeen. It was also a tribute to Levi’s role in AoT since his name was sometimes spelled as ‘Rivaille’ on many occasions.