#like people with D in their name will bring upon a new dawn upon the era or something to that effect

[petrichal]

If "D" doesn't stand for "Dawn" then I'll eat a whole shoe btw

[truestfeeiing]

a little pilot episode of a mellobot!au. it's actually a scene close to the end of the story, but i wanted to write it to get a feel.

android scientist!near / insurgent!mello

sci-fi/sci-fantasy, drama, rated general. (1.1k word count)

it's twenty years after the kira case, and mello and near are on opposite sides of the artificial intelligence war. today, mello has infiltrated near's base. he finds a special room with his name on the door.

Mello walked past the android repair shop, the server room, the controls headquarters. He kept heading deeper. The rooms became more personal, less organized, less like they were used for this proxy war that really wasn't a proxy war at all and instead spilt the blood of millions, and more like the battered, rattling lungs of a wounded animal, all the air sacs contracting and expanding in turn. The floor outline, based on the trackers he put in each room, became increasingly crooked and cramped as he approached its center.

“Bastard, what a nice fuckin’ place you've got, huh?” Mello snuffed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into a nearby trash can overflowing with office papers and junk parts.

There were a few facilities that implied more people may have worked here, once, but the downturn of the war on the side of the artificial had taken a toll on that too; offices abandoned, the cantine laced in cobwebs. He tagged those, too, sliding trackers under desks and tacking them on support beams.

The first room he happened upon that held his interest had a door of sturdy oak wood and a slightly oxidized plaque with an old-fashioned inscription. It had nothing to do with the aesthetics of the base that surrounded it; it had the distinct charm of the conception of the twenty-first century, when everyone was freshly hopeful that the dawn of a new age would bring prosperity and light. Mello sneered at the thought of the doomsayers. In the end, those fanatics waving signs and self-flagellating on the streets were much closer to seeing the truth. Still, it was an imperfect truth because here Mello stood, cleansed by fire, built by ash.

The world did end, but it was reconstructed brick by brick by people like Mello.

Though his vision had never quite been restored in his left eye, the curly script inscribed in the plaque clarified into perfect legibility as he approached it, and he stopped dead in his tracks five paces away from the enigmatic door.

“Mello?” He traced out the script with a hoarse whisper.

It was left slightly ajar with a gentle light source emanating from within, as though someone had been waiting and watching, as though the slight crack allowed a breath to pass through.

He tossed a tracker inside and heard it bounce twice before settling. No commotion. Carpet flooring, based on the muffledness.

Unlike the rest of the base, he had zero predictions for what could be inside, but the warm glow spilling out like silk welcomed him, so he hoisted his rifle up a bit more across his shoulders, and slipped a thumb into the holster of his handgun. His stomach twisting and turning in knots of apprehension, Mello gingerly pushed the door open with one gloved hand.

The sight of a mundane bedroom greeted him. Still the chills of a peculiar familiarity ran down his spine. The hue of the lights, the woven carpet, the bedposts in that same rich mahogany. It kind of looked— he recalled with a gulp— like his own room, back at Wammy's, a lifetime ago. Geez what tipped you off, maybe the name on the door?

There were a few odd details that kept his mind from exploding completely, principally the life-sized version of what must be his late teenage self tucked in bed facing away from him, rusty blond hair spilling over his white pillow, his face in a neutral repose. Mello swiftly aimed his handgun at the boy’s head, barking out a harsh warning. When there was no reaction he kicked the edge of the mattress. Still nothing.

He flipped the boy over by the shoulder (it was cold with a bit of give, velvety). and did a quick scan: There. The unmistakable electromagnetic signature of an android. A mighty fine one at that, but still a machine, and powered off. Mello crouched down and peered incredulously into the face of his younger self. He could almost see the scarlet blood rushing beneath his shockingly humanlike skin. None of the androids he'd met independently reached this level of lifelike. Besides the glaring difference of his facial scar and the decades packed into Mello's sallow skin, they were spitting images of each other.

It was truly state of the art.

“You sick fuck,” Mello laughed derisively.

He stood back up—almost dizzy— and surveyed the room one more time. The window, or the model of a window, was of particular interest. Just a standard LED panel behind a traditional-looking frame, with no indication that it could be opened, but it seemed a deliberate difference that only two people in the world were ever clued in to.

“You remembered,” Mello marveled to himself. Past the window played a very subtly looping footage of a generated coastline, the muted blue of brackish waters ambling in and out.

He blinked and watched more closely.

Ah, it wasn't generated. Little dots of people, vintage people, dotted the beachy shores. Even in the cliffs there was occasionally someone chancing a dive. Such idyllic coastlines didn't exist anymore, but in this window, they were immortalized. Mello’s lips thinned into a wobbling line as he put a fist beside the window, in this mirage of a room.

There was a second part to their conversation. His and Near’s. He had let the memory be buried for three decades, under the suffocating hatred and longing and all the thorny feelings stirred in him by one particular man; now it came rushing back unbidden, with vengeance.

“If you go, I wouldn't mind following. I wouldn't mind seeing all these things you find beautiful." Near had been lying on Mello's bed, feet dangling off the side because they were dusty. He didn't look at Mello, but stared up at the ceiling of that windowless room.

Mello had laughed back then.

”How are you gonna do that? You don't even want to leave the orphanage.”

”That's only ‘cause you're here, Mello. But I could do it, don't you believe in me? We'll go visit the Mediterranean Sea, then the Baltic, then sail around the world using L’s money.”

”You're gonna need to lug around so much medicine. Plus, it's kind of hard to believe a recluse like you could find anything beautiful beyond the nails of your own ten toes.”

”You can teach me to.”

In the present, Mello peered down into the youthful face of his mirror one last time before storming out of its room, slamming the door behind him.

[th3houseofleaves]

LIVE or DIE ?

you have seven days to make your choice!

welcome to DEATH'S DESIGN, a universe of my own creation, loosely inspired by multiple sources, including: death note, saw, final destination, and the ring.

death's design takes place in SEATTLE, washington and follows casimir anderson's time of taking the powers of death into their own hands in order to enact justice on a society they viewed as corrupt. as they gain a reputation, basil leroux, a renowned detective and security consultant begins working on the case to solve the mystery behind the true identity of the killer known as THANATOS. little does he know he's working in close proximity of the mastermind behind thanatos' crimes – casimir "call me cas" anderson inserts themself into the case, offering assistance in order to obscure their own connection to the deaths.

with what little evidence they have to go off of, basil tirelessly searches for answers. he spends hours watching and rewatching the videos that surviving targets received telling them to confess their crimes and beg their new god for forgiveness. he analyzes every bit of information that can find on thanatos and still, despite his skill, he finds no answers. only leads that go nowhere and a prime suspect innocently helping him organize papers and offering their own theories on the case.

the questions he most desperately wants answered are: WHO is THANATOS? and HOW do THEY KILL?

the events of death's design occur after casimir has a chance encounter with the personification of death itself. during this encounter they manage to acquire the book of the dead; inside it they find pages upon pages of names and dates and causes of death. at first they think that perhaps they have the diary of a murderer, a list of all their victims and the manner in which they killed them. but it quickly becomes clear that that is not the case as the flip through an impossible number of pages, finding entries dated for the future and entries from far further back than there would be any record of.

any theory behind the book's existence that they can come up with is impossible, yet they keep circling back to these outlandish thoughts, wondering what they might do if this book truly was a ledger of the dead. so, after some consideration, they found their first potential target — a man who's reckless driving caused an accident, taking the lives of six people. he was going to go unpunished, all because he had the money to afford a lawyer capable of twisting his crimes so that he escapes blameless.

it was irrelevant that the lawyer he was paying to get him off was casimir's estranged mother, that had very little to do with their choice. at least that's what they tell themself.

they found his name easily, the book opened to the page they needed, as if it knew what cas wished to do. they scratch out the day the man was supposed to die – a time many, many years into the future – and they write in the next day's date instead. they assume nothing will come of it, it was merely a silly experiment that would bring no results. when they woke up the next day and saw a report of the man's death on the news, it felt like the world stood still.

they had done that. a man had died because they willed it so. the power of death was their's to control. they alone have the POWER to RID the world of those who's crimes go UNPUNISHED.

this was the beginning of THANATOS, the dawn of a new age where casimir anderson was j u d g e, jury, and executioner.

additional links: carrd, pinterest, basil introduction, casimir introduction, thana introduction, & main account.

template credit: @jessource

psd credit: @kaijucatrph

[justkeepwalkingnothinghere]

tell me about castor :D

HOOKAY, HI. The floodgates have been opened, folks! It’s about to be walls of text!

So you wanna hear about my son! I have waited so long to tell almost his entire life story here on Tumblr. Many on Discord have heard, but not much has been told on my blog. Today, that changes!

LET’S DO THIS!

(Please note: The Spellcastor AU is still under development and details may be changed)

Full Name: Castor Windchime.

Nicknames: Spellcastor (Eda), Window decor (also Eda, upon first meeting).

Parents: Quince and Layla Windchime (May Layla rest in peace? Still iffy on that decision).

Age: Somewhere in his 40s, who knows.

Occupation: Supplier of potion ingredients (former), Seller of human collectibles (current), Another job that I will not reveal at this time for spoiler reasons (REDACTED).

Hexside Track: Illusions, Bard (behind closed doors).

Sexuality: Pan.

Wild Witch: Yes.

Likes: Storytelling and using his magic to do so, music, Boiling Isles history, cookie dough eye-scream, boiling rainstorms, goreberries, his morning coffee, being with loved ones.

Dislikes: Belos, Odalia, the coven system, anyone who threatens his friends and family, when his ears get cold on the knee, goreberry flavored anything.

First off, WHO is Castor? As stated before, I see him as my son, but in reality, he is my Owl House OC! Originally intended to be my self insert/witchsona, he quickly snowballed into his own character entirely with his own AU in the works. This boy and his story are my pride and joy.

His story is a long one, and while there are a handful of details and even chunks that I won’t be talking about for the purposes of avoiding spoilers, I am warning that you may wanna stop here in case you wanna find out everything once the fic comes out. At some point. Eventually. Let’s go!

While this AU focuses on present day Owl House, from Luz finding herself in the demon realm, to taking down Belos once and for all, Castor’s story began decades ago. Let’s go back a ways… reaches the Deadwardian era Too far! Too far! *Ahem!* Let’s go back…less far than that.

The dawn of Belos’ reign and the beginnings of the coven system. (This is when the timeline starts to get a bit funky but it doesn’t matter much. I am about ramble about Castor’s parents as I am equally passionate about them)

Castor’s parents, Quince and Layla, met in a pretty standard way. They found each other when they weren’t in the best places in life. To start, Quince was forced by their parents to become a scout for the Emperor’s Coven the moment they were qualified to do so. Most of their teen years were spent training, something they didn’t wanna do. Their family wasn’t the most savory of Belos supporters, and Quince began to resent them for it. But sure enough, once the day came, Quince passed coven tryouts and was soon to cross the threshold of the Emperor’s Castle. Rumor has it they even went on some missions alongside Steve’s father.

Layla on the other hand made her choice. Not many in the BI would know it, but Layla was at one point a wild witch. Unfortunately, when Belos set to outlaw wild magic, she feared for her future. Her entire family did. She saw no other choice but to pick a coven, and stick with it. To stay safe. Especially when the risk of petrification grew. She specialized in beast keeping, turning her home into a sanctuary of sorts when she would bring creatures back with her to take care of them.

But of course, being in the coven system was a tough, arduous job. With the power to drain you mentally. Everyone needs their break every once in a while. Quince and Layla would one night take theirs at Grimgrub’s Pub, after a particularly long day. Which is exactly where they met, spotting each other from across the room. Nothing new for Quince, they had met a couple new people this way. The two hit it off that night, an almost instant connection. Sounds like the start of a beautiful friendship, wouldn’t you say?

It soon enough became a blossoming romance, Quince and Layla having to develop ways to see each other in secret, and away from the prying eyes of Belos and the scouts. Think sneaking in through their bedroom windows kind of a deal. By the time they married, they had both been in their covens for many years, and it did have an effect on them. But once they had Castor? Quince and Layla knew their coven days were over. Knowing that it was no place to raise a child, especially once Belos would inevitably get involved, Quince grabbed their wife and infant son, and the three made a run for it to the right arm of the Titan. Far enough away from Belos to at least try to get things in order. Within the walls of this new cozy home that is still under the Windchime name to this day, the family of three started their completely new life.

(Putting the continue reading here because this is when I get way in detail about Castor’s life story. Last chance to turn back!)

When he was a toddler, there was no telling what track Castor would pick when he’d go to Hexside. Later on though, Castor had actually grown a love for storytelling. From fiction and even Boiling Isles history, he found that illusion magic allowed him to make his stories come to life, a clear picture of the perfect scene. He had a knack for this since he was little, it coming as no surprise to his parents when he immediately picked illusions at Hexside. At school he was your average student. He got good grades, practiced at home, went to an after school writing club. Even began to study bard magic once he gained an interest. But this doesn’t mean everything was good. Castor, sadly, didn’t have much of a social life. All he had were a few acquaintances in class.

Other students often looked down on him and fellow illusion track kids for their choice of magic. Not many people saw illusions as interesting or useful. The distaste for illusion magic was worse than in Gus’ time. Most days, Castor was alone. That is, until a certain “Lord Calamity” came a knocking. You see, Eda was an infamous figure of chaos at school, and she had made one hell of a name for herself. It was a common occurrence for students to hear the end result of one of her pranks or schemes at random points of the day. And Castor would often see a yellow school uniform and ginger hair pass by in a blur as Eda fled the scene. He usually tried his best not to get caught in one, not wanting to get in trouble, or at worst, lose a limb.

As you can probably guess, Castor was one day picked by Eda to play a signature role in her latest scheme. It required illusion magic, and judging by the light blue sleeves of Castor’s uniform, she felt he’d be perfect for the job. Castor agreed, albeit reluctantly, and what followed was some of the most fun he ever had. The storyteller and bringer of chaos found that they got along quite well! Castor was called to action again soon after, Eda bringing her sister Lilith along for the action this time, and Eda had set the standard for how things would be for these three from here on out. Before long, they were suddenly sitting at the same lunch table together, hanging out after school, being study buddies, practicing magic, you name it! Castor finally had people he could call friends.

Fast forward a few years, about 7 months before the curse. The trio had been best friends for a long time, doing almost everything together. Eda and Castor would meet in their hideout (the one with all the doors) and plan out schemes of all sorts, mostly just to get on Faust's nerves. Eda had even invited Castor to her house to learn how to carve a palisman with her father, Del. Castor emerged from the Clawthorne house with a small, orange mouse sitting in his shirt pocket. A mouse named Munchkin. Lilith had gotten him even more involved in Boiling Isles history, welcoming him to the inner circle of history nerds. And of course, you could find Castor in the stands, cheering on the Banshees and supporting the Clawthorne sisters nearly every grudgby game. Everything was going to be just fine! That is, until Eda almost got expelled. Once word had gotten out, Castor was the first to hear every little detail of Eda's day at HECK, and thus, the first to hear about Eda's new friend, Raine Whispers.

Understandably, Castor was ecstatic to hear of Raine's bard status, having been practicing at home since he got an interest. Surely, a few tips and maybe even some in person lessons would help him improve on his work! Raine sounded like a charming fellow Castor would love being around, and was really excited to meet them sometime. But what Eda didn't expect was to see a familiar face show up at the lunch table the very next day. Castor and Raine hit off right from the get go, becoming closer as time went on, from bard private bard lessons (with Eda joining in, too), to collaborating on Eda's pranks since they had gotten more complex with two people helping her. Castor's bard skills had improved A LOT, and soon, he would be able to wield and play his flute with ease. Including Lilith, it was the perfect team of best friends, along with acquaintances in Darius, Alador and Perry Porter.

Before long, Castor and Lilith had begun to notice some sparks flying between the young bard and wild witch. They knew there was something between them. Castor thought it was adorable and wanted nothing but happiness for them. Lilith had even coined their ship name, Raeda. She and Castor would sometimes talk about Raeda's pining, with Darius often joining in. Eda and Raine were completely oblivious to their crushes on each other. Neither of them knew, despite it being painfully obvious. Which lead to some folks, mostly Darius, getting annoyed with the pining.

I'd say more, but the next big chunks are the ones I won't be giving. The biggest spoilers possible. But really, what else needs to be said? Castor and Lilith rejoiced when Raeda finally got together, Faust retired and made Bump principal, Castor and everyone were all there for Eda in the first months of the curse, Castor and Raeda's best friendship stood for many years, Castor still kept in a little bit of contact with Lilith even after she joined the EC, was heartbroken when Raeda broke up, and moved in with Eda a decade later when he faced some troubling times. He met King, opened up the Human Collectibles stand with Eda, and felt that all would be well for years to come. That is, until one fateful day...

"And this...well this'll make good kindling." "Excuse me, sorry, that's mine, thank you!"

Was that...a human?!

(End ridiculously long backstory!)

Thank you, and goodnight!

[chenziee]

Romance Dawn for the East Blue

Inspired by @feriowind‘s blessed tweet about Yamato winding up on Dawn Island :)

Enjoy 4k words of the 4 brothers driving everyone  crazy :D

[Read on AO3 or below the cut]

----------

Slowly blinking awake, Yamato struggled to remember why he was lying on the beach of some strange island, the smell of sea salt and trash mixing in the air into something almost worse than the confines of his prison of Onigashima. Almost. It was still freedom after all, and Yamato would gladly take this disgusting smell over his father threatening to place bombs on his wrists.

Looking around groggily, his eyes finally fell on the sad, wooden remains of a small boat, a boat that Yamato had been using to sail this unfamiliar sea during the past weeks. And he finally remembered the terrible events that had led him to this island.

 Yes, it was a dark, stormy night, the likes of which Yamato had never seen even in the unpredictable New World, and definitely not since his escape in the peaceful and calm East Blue. He had fought to keep his boat from capsizing, fighting against the strong winds and ocean currents all by himself for hours… but then suddenly, a Neptunian so large it could only have come from the Calm Belt appeared. Yamato had managed to fight it off but unfortunately, his boat suffered too much damage from the power of his Thunder Bagua. He was then forced to swim to the nearest shore with the last bits of strength he had left—

"I saw the Lord of the Coast attack the fishing boat this person was sleeping in. It was really funny, when they woke up, they screamed so loud I think even the people in Fuusha heard. And then they fell in the water while trying to stand up. But the idiot apparently can't swim so I had to go fish them out."

Yamato froze in place at the boyish voice who was retelling his heroic battle so rudely. Wasn't he allowed to at least pretend?  

Another boy, this one sounding even younger, started snickering then. "I like this person, Sabo! They’re so funny!"

"Luffy, you're the last one who should be laughing here," a third voice sighed. "Anchor boy." Yamato could almost hear the cheeky smirk on his face as he teased this 'Luffy'.

“Don’t call me that!” the youngest one cried, sounding like he was about to fight the other boy.

“Ace, don’t provoke him,” the first boy chided. “You’ll wake the idiot with your fighting.”

That was it.

“Will you stop calling me an idiot?!” Yamato shouted as he sprung up to a sitting position, an embarrassed blush on his face.

They all paused at the sudden movement, blinking up at him in shock. Yamato glowered at them one by one, taking note of how tiny these kids were—the blond and the freckled one looked no older than 12, while the other could be maybe 8. The blond was the only one dripping in water, just as much as Yamato himself was, and Yamato could only assume this was Sabo, the one who had pulled him out of the water. That would make Freckles ‘Ace’, and the youngest one ‘Luffy’.

Yamato had to wonder, though, how Sabo was able to save him all by himself. Yamato was 16 years old, a lot older than however old these boys were, and he was Kaido’s son—meaning he was already much taller than some adults. Although, he supposed he had seen stranger things and people a lot stronger than a human their size should have been. An image of Oden during his execution came to mind immediately but Yamato quickly chased the memory away.

“Oh look, the idiot’s awake,” Ace said lazily, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Yamato’s glare and simply returning it with one of his own.

Luffy, on the other hand, grinned brightly, hopping over to Yamato to stare up at him with stars in his eyes. “Are those horns? Real ones?”

Blinking, Yamato’s hand automatically reached up to touch one of his horns. “Yeah?” he replied slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was it that weird to people not from the Grand Line to see someone with features like this?

“That’s so cool! Join my pirate crew!” His grin only widened with his request—or demand.

Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You have a pirate crew?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, not yet,” Luffy said, a small pout appearing on his lips. “But eventually, I will be the Pirate King so of course I will have one!” he announced looking so proud and sure of himself and Yamato felt his lips twitch upward.

“Sure, King, I’ll tag along with you,” he laughed, seeing no harm in indulging the adorable kid. And who knew? Maybe he really would end up sailing with him. After all, in 12 years, the Nine Red Scabbards would come back to Wano and Yamato needed to be back there by then. He needed to help open the country.

And who was to say he couldn’t bring the Pirate King with him?

Sabo clicked his tongue then, walking up to Luffy and ruffling his hair. “Stop that, you don’t even know this person’s name.”

“Oh right,” Yamato said, hitting t he palm of his hand with his fist in sudden realization. “Sorry. I’m Kozuki Oden. You can also call me Yamato. Son of Kaido. Thanks for helping me.”

----------

“Ace! Luffy! What’s the meaning of this?!”

Yamato groaned; always a wonderful way to wake up. “Are you drunk again, you bull-gorilla? Go away it’s too early for this,” he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes.

There was a moment of silence until someone stomped over to stand right above Yamato’s head. “What did you just call me, you brat?”

Finally, Yamato blinked up at the person with long ginger hair, a cigarette between their lips, and looking decidedly female. He closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Oh you’re not my father. Whatever then.” As soon as he was done, he pulled his blanket over his head to try and get some more peace and quiet.

It might not have been his father but it still was too early for this.

“Dadan, shut up,” some one whined from somewhere around halfway down Yamato’s body.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?” another person joined in, their voice coming from Yamato’s other side.

Oh right. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had brought him back to their place last night; this had to be the nasty old hag they mentioned. Definitely seemed like one.

“First Garp drops you two on me, then you bring in more and more kids with you? What do you expect me to do, this isn’t a daycare!” It sounded like the woman was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Finally, Sabo spoke up, sounding about as sleepy as Yamato felt, “Dadan, this is our brother, Yamao. Yamao, Dadan.” With that, he flopped back down, his head coming to rest against Yamato’s thigh.

“I’m not a pillow, you three!” Yamato snapped upon the realization of how the boys were laying with their limbs thrown all over the place, Yamato’s own body included. “And it’s Ya-ma-to,” he added with a sigh, already giving giving up on convincing them to not use Luffy’s nickname.

“Where the hell did you manage to pick up another brother,” Dadan complained and Yamato was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He had to admit that dealing with these three was like fighting a hurricane and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he met them. At least now he was there, a responsible teenager to keep them in check. She should really be grateful he happened to… choose this island to land on.

“Alright, kid. I don’t care who you are you where you came from—” the woman paused, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down and Yamato— “but I will not feed you. One bowl of rice per day is all I can guarantee you.”

Yamato laughed, “That’s not necessary. Oden could do it, I would be a disgrace if I couldn’t take care of myself and my brothers, too.”

Dadan stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before she threw he hands up in frustration. As she walked away, Yamato could hear her mumbling to herself about stupid brats who couldn’t be phased by anything and how she was going to ‘let Garp have it’ the next time he ‘bothered to show his sorry ass’ there.

Yamato simply shrugged and went back to sleep.

----------

Life on Dawn Island turned out to be surprisingly easy and, even more surprisingly, fun. It didn’t take Yamato long to get to know the forest, the mountain, and the Grey Terminal beyond it, running around the place with his little brothers like he was born there with them.

“Yamao, where are you going, that’s the opposite direction!” Sabo called after him in exasperation, pointing the right way.  

A few days after his arrival, he went to retrieve his kanabo from the waters just off the shore. Ace had looked at him, asking why he was so desperate if it was the same weapon the father he so hated used and Yamato couldn’t admit he had a point but… he simply didn’t feel right without it. It was his weapon as well now, and the bull-gorilla wouldn’t take that away from him.

It took him three hours of diving but the happiness and rightness of his kanabo next to him was well worth the effort.

“What are you two anchors doing?” Ace shouted from where he was in the water and towards the two at the beach, looking incredibly annoyed.  

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance before turning back to Ace and replying in unison, “Building a pirate ship from sand.”  

Just then, Sabo’s head popped out of the water next to Ace. “I need a break,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath after being underwater for so long.  

“This club of yours better be made from gold, Yamao, or so help me,” Ace grumbled before leaving Sabo to rest and diving in instead.  

Once he had his kanabo in hand, it became incredibly easy to hunt even the most ferocious beasts around, allowing Yamato enough room to stay back and direct the young brothers, giving them pointers and helping them with their hunting techniques. Usually, he simply watched, letting the boys do most of the hunt, even if it meant the prey got away sometimes. After all, making mistakes and losing was a good way to get stronger. So he let them do their own thing while making sure they were okay, and only jumping in when necessary.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go around the river, then we split up. Me and Luffy will go up while you and Ace follow the riverbed. It’s risky, but on my signal, you will catch its attention and keep it distracted. Then me and Luffy jump down at its head. Hopefully that will at least knock it out so you and Ace can then come help us finish it. And Yamao—” Sabo paused, giving Yamato a hard, subtly threatening look— “if you run ahead screaming and scare it off again, we’re having you for dinner.” 

Yamato could only gulp and nod obediently.  

He even managed to impress the local Madonna, the cute pub owner Makino. The first time she had come to visit after Yamato had arrived, she immediately dropped all the food, alcohol, and children’s clothes that she had brought, and ran straight to him. She gave him all of her attention the rest of her stay. And even though Yamato wasn’t interested, he had to admit that being fawned over, and especially the jealous stares all the bandits were giving him, felt great.

“Oh my,” Makino muttered when she noticed Yamato. “Luffy did say Yamao was a little taller than him but…” she trailed off, her expression turning troubled.  

“You don’t have any clothes big enough for him, do you?” Dogra asked, munching on one of the cones Makino had brought.  

The young woman shook her head, sighing, “I think I’ll have to make them all from scratch. Yamao, can you come here? I need to take some measurements.” 

"Yamao, you're blushing more than Ace did!" Luffy pointed out immediately, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.  

Yamato made sure his hand was coated in haki when he hit the boy over the head.  

Over all, he had to say he much prefered the life of a cool big brother over being a pirate crew’s' ‘young master’. It was a lot more fun, a lot easier to breathe. He never felt more free than he did while laughing and running around the mountain, plotting pranks on their brothers with Ace, or getting grounded— getting thanked by Sabo for running off and beating up the pathetic excuses for pirates who had hurt Luffy and threatened the boys' treasure stash.

Even Dadan's frustrated screaming felt more loving than anything the bull-gorilla of a biological parent had ever shown him. And no, it definitely wasn’t much more embarrassing.

----------

"I don't want to be a marine!" Luffy screamed one morning just as the others were getting ready to head out to work their brand new tree house base.

Both Sabo and Ace froze, turning to stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes.

"Run?" Ace asked in a whisper.

"Run," Sabo nodded seriously before they both turned to look at Yamato.

The teen simply sat there, turning his confused gaze between Ace, Sabo, and the direction from which Luffy's voice came a few seconds earlier. "What's going on?"

Ace and Sabo exchanged a glance once more, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding before Ace answered, "Go see for yourself. Luffy could probably use the help."

Immediately, Yamato was on his feet, heading outside to save his adorable baby brother from whatever monster he was facing. He was slightly suspicious of the high five Ace and Sabo had exchanged, not as sneakily as they probably thought, but as long as Luffy was in trouble, it didn't matter much to him.

As soon as he made it outside the little house, his eyes fell on the two figures fighting just a little bit away from the house. Obviously, one of them was Luffy, who was visibly fuming; growling and snapping his teeth like he was getting ready to literally bite the legs off of his target.

The target in question was a tall, although obviously much shorter than Yamato, and muscular old man clad in a bright red and white aloha shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Luffy down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luffy’s pistol punches—which admittedly still left much to be desired despite Yamato’s efforts to help him out; it was only a question of time before he managed to find the right bang feeling. The man he was fighting looked vaguely familiar but Yamato couldn’t place that face no matter how much he wrecked his brain.

But it didn’t matter.

“Luffy, are you okay?!” Yamato called in alarm, rushing forward while preparing to swing his kanabo at the stranger.

The both of them turned to look at him then, identical angry expressions on their faces and suddenly, Yamato realized who the man reminded him of. It was more than obvious where Luffy got his personality and expressions. Maybe he should… not attack this person on sight?

Making the decision for him, Luffy huffed upon seeing him approach, raising his hand and making Yamato stop. “Stay back, I’m fine! I can kick gramps’ ass myself!”

“Who’s ass are you gonna kick?” the man snapped, his light punch making Luffy clutch at his head. “You can’t win against the fist of love, Luffy!”

Yamato blinked. That was obviously haki but… fist of love?  

Ignoring Luffy’s complaints, the man gave Yamato an obvious once over. “And who are you? Wait—” he paused, looking like he just remembered something— “you’re Yamao, aren’t you?”

“My name is Ya-ma-to, and I’m Luffy’s big brother,” Yamato replied, not entirely sure why he even bothered to correct anyone on his name at this point. No one ever listened.

“Part of the family already, hm? You have an impressive swing; you’ll make a fine marine.” The grandfather nodded, grinning at Yamato in approval.

Yamato did a double take. “I’m not going to be a marine!” he responded immediately, the horror he felt at the though clear in his voice.

“Exactly! We’re gonna be pirates!” Luffy joined in, fully recovered and launching a new rubbery pistol punch, which went completely ignored.

Gramps puffed up, raising his fist threateningly in front of himself. “Nonsense! All four of you will be the strongest marines the navy’s ever had if I have any say in it!”

“No way!” Luffy and Yamato cried in unison, the both of them jumping at the man in a joint attack.

A second later the both of them were rolling on the ground together, clutching at their heads and trying to recover from yet another fist of love. Seriously, Yamato only just met this guy, why was he getting a fist of love? Or better yet, why did it sound like he was already considered a grandson? He didn’t even know his new grandfather’s name.

He guessed it was simply one more proof of his relation to Luffy. It was exactly the same to when Luffy had decided by himself that Yamato was the big brother now, not even half an hour after meeting him, and just like back then, Yamato was powerless in defying that decision.

Not like he wanted to. He would be lying if he said being considered family so easily, so warmly, so unconditionally didn’t make him happy. But still…

“I’m already a pirate,” he growled. Not to mention marines did nothing but fight Oden and the Pirate King’s crew. Like hell was he becoming one of them.  

Gramps took a deep breath, looking like he was about to explode, but Yamato interrupted him. “The navy wouldn’t want someone with my blood anyway. They’d execute me on the spot,” he said flatly, looking the man straight in the eyes, trying to convey how disgusted by the institution, the world government, the current world he was. Like hell was he participating in that. He’d much rather wait patiently for the one who was going to change it all and support them.  

Neither of them said anything for a moment, neither of them faltering as they stared each other down silently. Until finally, gramps grinned, a smile so similar to Luffy’s that Yamato startled.

“If blood’s the problem, all the more reason you should join,” he announced, the smile never leaving his face even as his eyes turned almost sad.  

Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched the man slowly look at Luffy before his eyes slid in the direction of the bandits’ house. When Yamato turned to look, he could see Ace turning around and walking away, Sabo quickly following with a worried expression on his face.

Well.

At least Yamato wasn’t the only one who obviously hated his biological family around here.

Deciding to leave Ace in Sabo’s hands, Yamato turned back to the problem at hand but before he could snap at the man, Luffy did so for him, “No. He’s joining my crew!”

“Over my dead body!” gramps roared in response, looking like he was going to go off on a rant.

Yamato, however, wasn’t about to sit around and listen to that. “No, over my dead body. Do you even hear how fucked up it is that you need to join the navy to be safe from getting hunted? Neither of us going there,” he growled, baring his teeth for good measure.

The old man paused, blinking at Yamato once, then twice, before he burst out in laughter, one so loud, so honest, and so contagious that, despite having no idea what was so funny, it made even Yamato want to laugh. All his anger was forgotten as his lips stretched in a grin, shaking his head at the sudden realization of how weird this entire situation was. He barely knew what was even happening but… it wasn’t like Yamato ever really paused to think about things. If it felt right, he’d go with it. If it didn’t, fuck it.  

And this, incredibly, felt right.

It was only a long while later that gramps finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I like you, kid. Are you sure you’re Kaido’s son?”

As if hit by the bull-gorilla’s Thunder Bagua, Yamato stopped laughing, only staring with an open mouth as dread ran through him. “How?” he could only say after a dreadfully long moment of heavy silence. Or maybe it was only a second. But it was too much, and made Yamato feel too on edge. Ready to fight. He didn’t want to even hear the bull-gorilla’s name; definitely didn’t want to hear it in relation to himself.

Gramps looked at him as if asking if he was kidding then, but with his only answer being a glare, he started laughing anew. “Kid, if you don’t want people to know, or the asshole finding you, maybe stop introducing yourself with ‘son of Kaido’ to anyone you meet. You have poor Makino quite worried.”

Oh.

Whoops?

“Yamao, you’re stupid,” Luffy laughed.

The teen huffed, shoving hard at Luffy’s shoulder. “You’re stupid,” he hissed back, making Luffy stick his tongue out at him.

Yamato saw it only fair he do the same in return.

Just then, a dark shadow loomed over the both of them and they slowly looked up, only to see gramps looking down at them with an evil grin on his face, slowly cracking his knuckles. “Whatever you say, I will train you stupid brats into proper marines, yet.”

Yamato finally understood why Ace and Sabo’s immediate reaction was to run, then send Yamato as what he could now only assume being a sacrifice. There was no way even Yamato was going to be a fair match for this man. “Oh fuck,” Yamato cursed, scrambling to his feet to follow Luffy, who who was already hafway down the clearing away after taking the first popped knuckle as his signal to bolt.

“Watch your fucking language in front of your baby brothers!” gramps shouted after him just before something that might have been a pine cone flew past him at an impossible speed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance, identical grins spreading in their lips before they both took a deep breath. “ACE! SABO! HELP!!”

If they were to die today, they’d make sure to take the other two down with them.

----------

Hours later, Yamato lay awake in his bed on the floor of the mountain bandits’ cabin long after his brothers started snoring softly. He was exhausted from the day spent laughing and running away from gramps—or Garp, as he had finally learned earlier that evening once Dadan finally stopped hiding from the man—but as opposed to the others, he didn’t want to sleep.

Not when gramps and Dadan were busy talking on the other side of this thin wall. What had started as the two of them sharing their frustrations and complaints about their kids quickly turned into fondness as they instead told each other stories about the brothers and their antics. Yamoto wasn’t surprised the bandit knew exactly where their secret base was, just as he wasn’t surprised by Garp only pulling out the most embarrassing stories he probably could.

It was a good thing the other three had managed to pass out the second their heads hit their pillows or they’d be trying to fight the old man all over again over it.

Yamato, on the other hand, refused to miss out on a second of this. The adults might not have allowed him to drink with them, claiming Yamato was too young for that—to which he not-so-politely disagreed, but then Garp’s fist disagreed with him—but they couldn’t stop him from listening. Those were his brothers they were talking about and he wanted to hear all about the past ten years of their lives that he had missed.

And if he maybe got a little bit happy every time they brought Yamato up, well… no one had to know that.

“Yamao, I swear if you don’t stop laughing at their shitty stories, I will strangle you with your own hair.”

[alwaysdaenerys]

The consequences of King Bran

I had this sudden thought about the end of Game of Thrones, in comparison to the theorized end to ASOIAF, in regards to King Bran. I’m not a huge fan of this ending, and yes this is obvious because of my username, I’m aware! But at least in the show, it was lackluster and not foreshadowed in the slightest. Things may be different in the books in any case, though this is not truly what I want to put on the table for others to discuss and analyze. 

I’ve read and talked about with other fans about how making Bran king at the end of the book series may be advantageous, because the realm is healing from the significant massacre of its citizens during the Long Night. And if this is the case, the showrunners and writers missed a huge opportunity to kill more people. I’m not necessarily saying more main characters—though this is another problem I have with the show—but actually more smallfolk, more un-named or lesser lords, etc. The fact that D&D decided that the War for the Dawn was only going to last one fucking night is preposterous for many reasons, but the main one is: the Others and their wights would have never tired because they don’t need food for water or rest, and could have totally swept through the weak and depleted Riverlands, Reach, Stormlands, Crownlands even, with ease.

And because the writers did not extend the Long Night, because they didn’t kill half the humans in Westeros like the Others had the means to do, there are so many contenders left for seats of power. There is a logical argument in saying that Bran may be a good leader because there is literally no one else to take on the mantel; I will concede to that. But there are SO MANY CHARACTERS LEFT AT THE END OF THE SHOW. Bran has no army to defend him from all these people who command thousands of noticeably-alive soldiers. Who, if they were in character in the last season, would have had more to say about this tiny kid who they just met today being king of the fucking world. 

And because he just hands the North its independence without asking anyone else if they’d like to petition the same thing, it will snowball out of control quite quickly.

Yara remains: the Iron Islands have a long history of coveting independence and now that their last liege, Daenerys, is no longer living, it won’t take them long to realize that they have no opposition on the high seas, or the battlefield. Who cares if land is not their strong suit? It will be against, you guessed it, an army of Tyrion and a wheelchair-bound Bran. Yara will raise her men, who, once again, are not walking dead, and they secede from the mainland for good. And Bran cannot do a thing because his faction has neither strength at sea nor land.

Dorne and its unnamed prince: another example of a region in Westeros that was continuously on the outs with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. They were not truly “conquered” until the Daeron II married a Martell princess. The dragons were never able to hold Dorne on the battlefield so what makes anyone think that Bran Stark and his lack of dragons will? They’ll be the first to go, in my opinion, because at least Yara had a previous somewhat-working relationship with the Crown, whereas the unnamed Prince of Dorne has no obligations to a single person at that Great Council. 

Edmure and the Riverlands: this region, in the show and in the books, is always the most affected my war. If the Others would have made it past Winterfell, the Riverlands would be next. The smallfolk suffered during the War of the Five Kings and Edmure knew it and wanted to help. I always thought it was clever of GRRM that he chose Edmure Tully to be one of the only lords that actually cared about his people, because of his region’s proximity to the conflict. Yes, Ned Stark may have cared for his people as a whole, but we never see him do anything as protective as Edmure is by letting the smallfolk into his keep, for the poor of the North. And in the show, since the Others did not even glimpse Riverrun and its vassals, the Tullys have the army they do at the end of season 6. Edmure won’t like that he was insulted by the Queen in the North, and will take his next move from Yara.

The Stormlands are a toss-up for me: Gendry owes his legitimization to Queen Daenerys, not Bran. So either he will be overthrown and/or killed by the other Stormlords immediately upon entering his keep, or they will persuade him to secede as well. Arya jilted Gendry and if we are to believe she plans to never see him again, there’s a pretty good chance Gendry won’t care about the consequences of his actions because he has nothing to lose. It seemed pretty obvious that he didn’t want to do all this lord stuff without the love of his life, so it’s not much of a leap to assume he wouldn’t care about the trappings of royalty anymore. Storm’s End is nearly impregnable and Bran has no army to besiege the castle like Mace Tyrell did during Robert’s Rebellion. I have no doubt that with or without Gendry, the nobles or the Stormlands will not be appreciative of Bran or Tyrion. Maybe they haven’t flirted with independence quite as much as others have since Aegon the Conqueror, but it will feel monumentally better than watching all the other kingdoms secede and stay silent.

The Eyrie seems to the most realistic example here, as far as what the regions will be like after the defeat of the Others: the Knights of the Vale participated in the War for the Dawn, therefore the fighting force has been depleted. And I would argue that they have a very similar situation to the Stormlands; Rhaenys was only able to bring the Arryns into the fold by flying her dragon to the castle. Once again, without dragons, I don’t see how Bran is going to be as successful. Robin Arryn doesn’t know Bran; he was all in for Sansa. But since Sansa decided to leave him in the lurch to declare independence, I don’t think he and his advisors are going to stay besties with her. Sitting out the War of the Five Kings makes it even easier for me to theorize that they would be just fine on their own.

The state of the Reach is the most embarrassing thing that happened on Game of Thrones: the fact that we have to watch Bronn of the fucking Blackwater sit in the Queen of Thorns’ seat of power is a travesty. I always liked him on the show and in the books, but this, I cannot forgive. He is woefully ill-equipped to be lord of a keep, let alone Highgarden, and putting him on the small council as MASTER OF COIN when he can’t read or understand loans was beyond lazy. As far as the state of the Reach, they are pretty depleted from the sack of Highgarden, but even so, it seems painfully obvious that his lack of support from the other lords in the region will be his downfall. Maybe they weren’t 100% supportive of the Tyrells either, but there’s no way any of them will allow some up-jumped sellsword who’s best friends with Tyrion Lannister to lead them. Since Bronn has no army of his own, he’ll be dead soon enough and someone who was decidedly not killed during the Long Night, will take his place and give a middle finger to the Iron Throne, just like Olenna.

The Westerlands are the weakest of the remaining Six Kingdoms, I think: they don’t have much of an army after the Battle of King’s Landing. I think they’d be the only support of Bran after he is crowned, and that’s because Tyrion is the Hand. After Daenerys took Casterly Rock, most everyone bent the knee or died, so Tyrion doesn’t even have a suitable army to defend him, let alone the castle. I can’t imagine the soldiers remaining after all this would be enough to take on all the rebellions that are destined to occur after the secession of the North.

Lastly, the North: how will Bran react when his home region is starving and begging for aid? They have nothing to feed their people in the cold, white North. Yes, a lot of people died in the war, but there are plenty who didn’t participate and since it didn’t get past Winterfell, only those involved in the Battle—and the Umbers—were affected. Will the new king give it, even though they have no right to ask for it? Will he defy the laws of the realm for his sister? Because as far as I’m concerned, the North cannot sustain itself without the help of the other kingdoms. It’s not warm enough for farming, while the livestock trade was probably diminished when the Boltons were Wardens. Sansa would rather be in the Queen in the North than actually take care of her subjects; because by choosing independence, she has doomed everyone. Nothing changes for the smallfolk; it’s just another feudal overlord.  

In conclusion: if Bran becomes King, there would have to be an apocalypse for it to be successful. There definitely wasn’t on the show, therefore several events will cause his coronation to be all for naught before Tyrion’s ten years are up. As GRRM has stated, the Others are the focus of the story and who sits on the Iron Throne is a secondary plot to distract from the actual horror. I’m not usually someone to ask for more horror, but when it comes to the future of Westeros under King Bran, things are looking terribly bleak without more of it.

[queerdraws]

Cleaning Out the Rooms - a Harry Du Bois playlist Alcoholism, getting better?, memory loss, being a superstar, The Final Dream, forming political opinions, bad breakups, past transgressions, being a strange and inconsistent being, and persisting despite it all 26 songs (r-slur warning for Turnin’ on the Screw - QotSA)

including: David Bazan, They Might be Giants, The Mountain Goats, British Sea Power (of course), Queens of the Stone Age, and more.  Full track listing and lyric excerpts under the cut

---- Turnin' on the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age (This is the opening track on Era Vulgaris, seemed like an appropriate opening song / introduction to Harry's general essence) ----

... They say those who can't just instruct others And act like victims or jilted lovers You can't lose it if you never had it Disappear, man, do some magic

Want a reason? How's about because You ain't a has been if you never was

I sound like this

Scared to say what is your passion So slag it all, bitter's in fashion Fear of failure's all you've started The jury is in, verdict: r******d

I'm so tired, and I'm wired too I'm a mess; I guess I'm turning on the screw

---- Bless this Mess - David Bazan (Harry being a drunk and a general mess, things going in cycles) ----

God bless the man who stumbles God bless the man who falls God bless the man who yields to temptation God bless the woman who suffers God bless the woman who weeps God bless the children trying her patience Trouble getting over it Is what you're in for So pour yourself another 'Cause it'll take a steady pair of hands Holy or unholy ghost Well now I can't tell, but either way you cut it You should get some distance if you plan to take a stand God bless the house divided God bless the weeds in the wheat God bless the lamp hid under a bushel I discovered hell to be the poison in the well So I tried to warn the others of the curse But then my body turned on me I dreamt that for eternity My family would burn Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

---- Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair - Arctic Monkeys (general Harry vibe.  off-kilter) ----

Break a mirror, roll the dice

...

Find a well-known hard man and start a fight Wear your shell suit on bonfire night Fill in a circular hole with a peg that's square

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

...

Bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes Kung fu fighting on your roller skates Do the Macarena in the devil's lair

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

---- I've Been Seeing Things - They Might be Giants (feels very Harry's detecting style, surreal happenstance) ----

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things Don't have answers but I've got lots of questions

Carpool's up, someone gets out Hand someone else a violin case I'm trying not to let them see me looking at them But I'm pretty sure there was a dollar sign

Keep your eyes peeled and you'll see stuff Which at first seems like unimportant irrelevant things

Can't just ask some perfect stranger "What are you hiding in your violin case?" Shadow them at a distance instead Try to get inside their head

Where'd they go now (Where'd they go now) I got distracted (I got distracted) Begging me to stay (Begging me to stay) Wearing a disguise (Wearing a disguise) That lady (That lady) Must have ditched the kid (Must have ditched the kid) Hidge the down (Hidge the down) [???] What's she up to now? (What's she up to now?) Trembling cold by the airport road Watching them stack containers in rows Seagulls, helicopter, windblown trash Something doesn't add up

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things No one asks but I'm packing all kinds of attention

Later I'm watching a news report Camera pans across a crime scene Unremarked upon detail Empty violin case Okay maybe not the same case Different material, different color Still you have to wonder Am I the only one who knows

I've been seeing things

---- Music is the Victim - Scissor Sisters (breakup Harry.  drug-addled disco Harry) ----

I left my heart in San Fransisco It's at some motherfucking disco The people there where dancin' on it And that's including Ms. Matronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

Of your bad fun Money's all gone but you need some Lover's on the phone but they got none Daddy ain't home from the dog run And you're riding through the city with a shotgun

I left my bag in Pasadena Where all them girls was doin' Tina Them bitches sure were crunked up on it I said I'd rather smoke some chronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

---- Down to Your Soul - Right Away, Great Captain! (about the Final Dream and pre-game Harry) ----

And I see things I actually don't see. I knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach. I looked into your eyes and I began to lose my teeth, And I felt you were dreaming the same thing.

And I know you don't know what I'm capable of But if you give me just one more minute I'm sure That you would be shaking right down to your soul And I'd hope that the fear of the lord brings me home. I'm a man in a body of water so tall Could swallow you whole and forget where he's going But I carved a map in the back of my arm Don't worry I'm coming home I said don't worry cause I'm coming home

---- No Surprises - Radiohead (suicidal harry, pre-game.  Maybe immediately before the game.  A little Big Communism Builder) ----

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us I'll take a quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

…

This is my final fit My final bellyache

…

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)

---- Cleaning Out the Rooms - British Sea Power (The instrumental part seems to have been used / referenced for a background music track.  And also the name of that one thought project. as expected, it fits beautifully.  Wake up in a new life, down by the seaside.  Cleaning out the rooms.  She’ll be coming soon.) ----

Where life is good in a way Swept away upon our hearts, in cold coal ceremonial On a rainy day, hang it up Get the vacuum and suck it in Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up Dark cloud, drifting out of view I'll never know, she'll be coming soon, that is all I'll wake up in a new life, ship shape and shoe shine Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up She'll be coming soon Drifting into view, way in the west, white cloud If everybody knew, I never knew, she'll be coming soon I'll wake up in a new life, down by the seaside In a new life, down by the seaside Cleaning out the room, I'll clean it up Dark clouds, she'll be coming soon Down the chimney, out the window, that is all

---- In the Morning of the Magicians - The Flaming Lips (waking up with no memory, but bad vibes) ----

In the morning I awake

And I couldn't remember What is love and what is hate

The calculations error

Oh, what is love and what is hate? And why does it matter? Is to love just a waste? And how can it matter?

Oh...

As the dawn began to break I had to surrender The universe will have its way Too powerful to master

---- Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads (Huh??  What's happening??  same as it ever was, same as it ever was) ----

And you may ask yourself, "How do I work this?" And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large automobile?" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful house" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful wife"

...

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

...

And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?" And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?" And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?" And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"

---- Don't Change - David Bazan (alcoholism, cycles of wanting to get better, depression, slipping in to old coping mechanisms, plus a little bit in here about dreams.  This is a song for if Harry continues partying after the memory wipe, I suppose) ----

He seems nice You met him once or twice But you wonder what he's like When he's sober

Then again You hear he has no friends Just people that he spins To do him favors

When he wakes up in the morning he tells himself Today I'll make a change But falling into his bed at night he thinks Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

I'm so deep That only in my sleep Do the secrets that I keep Float to the surface

So I hold them down Till they don't make a sound Like they accidentally drowned Except on purpose

And when I wake up in the morning I tell myself Today I'll make a change But falling into my bed at night I think Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

---- Airbag - Radiohead (born again, back to save the universe) ----

In the next world war In a jackknifed juggernaut I am born again In the neon sign scrolling up and down I am born again

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

In a deep, deep sleep of the innocent I am born again In a fast German car I'm amazed that I survived An airbag saved my life

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

---- A Comet Appears - The Shins (puppeting a man-body around pretending to be a living thing. drinking, depression) ----

One hand on this wily comet Take a drink just to give me some weight Some uber-man I'd make I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on A host of individual sins Let's carve my aging face off Fetch us a knife Start with my eyes Down so the lines Form a grimacing smile

Close your eyes to corral a virtue Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard To cement a failure

---- The Communists Have the Music - They Might be Giants (Big Communism Builder, but especially Harry's shallow understanding of Communism.  Party-boy communist) ----

I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich Straight from the can, it tasted so bland I asked a lass to pass me a glass Of Engels' Conditions of the Working Class

Right away they dragged me to the committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

I'm not partial to the martial Or the plutocrats, in their beaver hats And the fascists have the outfits But I don't care for the outfits What I care about is music And the communists have the music

---- Harlem Roulette - The Mountain Goats (Harry thinking about Guillame le Million?  Generally: that vibe of secret, maybe supranatural machinations happening just outside your field of view.  A kinda lonely, pensive vibe, sprinkled with past drug use, driving...memory) ----

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968. Just a pair of tunes to hammer out. Everybody's off the clock by 10:00. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. Feels so free when I hit the avenue. Nothing like a New York summer night. Every dream's a good dream, Even awful dreams are good dreams, If you're doing it right. Remember soaring higher than a cloud. Get pretty sentimental now and then. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on. And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone. Armies massing in the dusky distance. Ghosted in the ribbon microphone. Leave a little mark on something, maybe, Take the secret circuit home. Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands. Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again.

---- Suture up Your Future - Queens of the Stone Age (Harry's gonna fix his mess) ----

I'm gon' suture up my future I ain't jaded, I just hate it See, I been down too long It's kinda hard to explain Burned and buried, all I carried

...

Tried explaining unexplained Got caught in the plan All this talking at once I've been giving my love away To the things that tear it apart I'm gonna suture up my future

---- Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse (Harry trashing his body / having already trashed his body, just kinda a Harry-vibe song) ----

...

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out This is what I really call a party now Well, fear makes us really, really run around A-this one's done so where to now? Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all Well, you all know what I'm talking about The room lights up, but we're still dancing around We're having fun, having some fun now

Pack up again, head to the next place Where we'll make the same mistakes Open one up and let it fall to the ground Pile out the door when it all runs out

...

As our feelings are getting hurt Oh, we want you to do the work Our ass looks great inside these jeans Well, we want just our water clean

Well, this is how it's always been And this is how it's going to be So you just move on

---- Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes (Harry "can-opener" du Bois.  Talking to the skills, solving things, detecting, generally being a terrifying force of nature / the pale) ----

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it Every single one's got a story to tell Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell

And if I catch it coming back my way I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says, "Find a home"

---- Body of Years - Mother Mother (Harry's past that follows him, Harry's half-decomposed body that marks the years of abuse it's been through) ----

All the remains of a cadaver of days I keep hidden away, keep them there just in case I wanna visit that place Blow the dust from the bones Off a body of years that I leave all alone Just a body of years

See the skin disappears And the blood turns to stone In a body of years now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul It's a body of years that I leave all alone

It's Just a body of years, now a pile of bones You know Old soul who falls down Can't stop trippin' on these Old roads I go down Get back up and get my foot in the door And my face on the page Make my mark in the world With a bat and a blade It's a body of work that you can't ever change Like a body of years that you take to your grave It's just a body of years that I leave all alone It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul

---- The Cap-m - They Might be Giants (just a Harry vibe song) ----

When I talk you keep looking away from me 'Cause you probably think that I'm high on pot But I'm not, I'm not

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You say it's such a joke But I don't see you laughing

People seem to think you can't be called the Cap'm Unless you drive a boat Well, I don't I don't

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm Go ahead and mess with me You'll find out what will happ'm

...

Did you say what I think you just said My hat looks good on me? I agree, I agree

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You act like it's a joke But I don't see you laughing

---- Broke - Modest Mouse (oops!  all mistakes.  Broke it all.  Want to forget it but can't) ----

Broke account, so I broke a sweat I've bought some things that I sort of regret about now Broke my pace and ran out of time Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise 'cause my car broke down Such a classic excuse it should be bronze by now Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice You said that I was an asshole and I paid the price

Broken hearts want broken necks I've done some things that I'd love to forget, but I can't

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow It's the end of the discussions that just go 'round and 'round And 'round, and 'round, and 'round ... It was like everything was evidence of broken time

You're living on fancy wine You'll drink that turpentine You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

---- Spent Gladiator 2 - The Mountain Goats (Defiantly alive) ----

Like a spent gladiator, Crawling in the coliseum dust. Who can count on his remaining limbs, All the people he can trust. Like the one who stands behind him, Cheering him on. Ecstatic when he stands defiant, Wild with abandon when he's gone. Just stay alive. Keep your eyes on the pay line. Like a village on the step, About to get collectivized. When the men emerge with rifles from the haystack, Everybody looks surprised. Like the mice in the forgotten grain, Way up on the top shelf. Like someone who's found a small town to escape to, Keeps one eye on his abandoned, former self. Stay in the game. Just try to play through the pain. Like a fighter who's been told its finally time for him to quit. Show up in shining colors, And then stand there and get hit. Like the clock that ticks in Dresden, When the whole town's been destroyed. Like the nagging flash of insight, You're always desperate to avoid. Like the bloody-knuckled gunman, Still stationed at the breach. Like that board game with the sliders, And the children on the beach. Stay alive. Maybe spit some blood at the camera. Just stay alive. Stay forever alive.

---- You Only Live Once - The Strokes (just general Harry, talking about the skills, choices you can make, what kind of cop you can be) ----

Twenty-nine different attributes Only seven that you like, oh-oh Twenty ways to see the world, oh And twenty ways to start a fight, oh

...

And countless odd religions too It doesn't matter which you choose, oh, no One stubborn way to turn your back, oh This I've tried and now refuse, oh

Oh don't, don't, don't get up I can't see the sunshine Oh, I'll be waiting for you, baby 'Cause I'm through Sit me down Shut me up I'll calm down And I'll get along with you

---- Pork and Beans - Weezer (Superstar Cop) ----

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear Oakley makes the shades to transform a tool You'd hate for the kids to think that you've lost your cool

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

No, I don't care I don't care

---- Freaks - Surf Curse (head filled with skills, The Final Dream) ----

Don't kill me just help me run away From everyone I need a place to stay Where I can cover up my face Don't cry, I am just a freak

I am just a freak(x3)

My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time

I won't wake up this time(x3)

---- The Smallest Church in Sussex - British Sea Power (oh yeah this is mandatory) ----

[dclsbaby]

traitor - Dominic Calvert-Lewin 🦋

Summary: you reflect on your relationship, realised you've been wronged and should've trusted your gut

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.1k

masterlist

Brown guilty eyes and,

Little white lies,

I played dumb, but I always knew

That you talked to her, maybe did even worse

I kept quiet so I could keep you

It’s his green-hazel eyes that dissipate every logic, every sense of reason you had. It’s the way he would roll over to your side of the bed each morning to savour another 5 minutes before he has to leave, that made you feel yearned for and wanted. It’s the lingering kisses on your neck, on each shoulder and collarbone, that convinced you you’re the only one. It’s the grand dreams shared with you about your future together, filled with kids and their tiny jerseys, that made you believe his little white lies.

You had ignored the tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach that felt nothing like the butterflies you experienced on your first date with Dom. The feeling told you to succumb to your suspicions and unlock his phone, scroll through his messages and social media interactions. No, the feeling demanded you to swipe his phone, lock yourself in the bathroom, overstep boundaries, and find evidence of another woman. But that wasn’t who you are. You respected boundaries, and decided against it. You loved him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The paranoia began to grow when you noticed the little things, such as the way he would put his phone screen-side down on the counter, or the way he brought it everywhere like it’s a part of him, even in the bathroom, or that he wouldn’t leave its sight when it's being charged. Then, these signs started getting stronger and more frequent. He’d get phone calls when you’re having dinner and every time you ask who it is, you’re always met with, “No one important enough to take me away from you,” and a kiss to suppress your suspicions.

Does he have anything to hide? You often ask yourself. Do I really want to know? Another voice asks.

You knew, deep down, that your gut was right. You knew what was happening behind your back.

It’s always the girl they tell you not to worry about.

You were first introduced to her one evening at a club event. Dom referred to her as the ‘girl with the magic hands’, to which you cringed at the innuendo. That was the first warning sign you ignored. Although shortly after exchanging names, you learned that she works at the training ground as a masseuse. Magic hands, makes sense, you thought. It did not make you feel better though.

You could see her appeal. You could imagine Dom and his teammates steal a glance, their eyes lingering much longer than they should. You could hear the locker room talk, words of adoration spilling from their mouths. Her charm is magnetising. She’s bubbly, she’s awfully kind. But did she really have to look like she could be on the cover of Playboy circa 2004 too? Though her beauty’s not your lack, it did not help with your brewing paranoia.

You can’t help but think she’s the reason he’s been staying back late at the training ground, why he comes home wearing a different shirt to the one he left with in the morning, and why he doesn’t talk about his day much anymore, as it probably mostly consisted of being lathered up in oil and getting sensual massages by a hot masseuse. The thought always made you sick to your stomach.

The overthinking had convinced you he had been seeing another woman right in front of you this whole time. But pretending that everything’s alright was so much easier than the inevitable confrontation, the accusation, the fight, the ending. So you kept quiet so you could keep him, and live in the false fairytale you try so hard to become reality.

Until you couldn't anymore.

—

And ain't it funny how you ran to her

The second that we called it quits?

And ain't it funny how you said you were friends?

Now it sure as hell don't look like it

You and Dom stayed friends after your relationship ran its course, for the first couple of weeks, at least. The days leading up to the break up were plagued with arguments over the little things like missing dinner plans and not keeping the room tidy, which led to bigger fights where you accused him of not being in love with you. Of course, he vehemently denied this, but you thought he didn’t fight for you enough. He didn’t push back, he didn’t give you a reason to stay, and that was enough for you to know that your relationship never stood a chance. You could handle disagreements and a few fights, but when you’ve been led to question your own worth—it’s done.

In the end, it was a mutual break up. It made sense, he needed to focus on his football and the constant fights weren’t helping his concentration. It was hard for him to leave each morning knowing you both went to bed angry, and although he would spend the drive home practicing his apologies, he would come home to find you fast asleep in bed before he could even make amends. As for you, well, you had to look for love elsewhere.

All seemed well until he turned more and more sour by the day. Sure, you didn’t expect to be glued to his hip at all times, or be the best of friends—you two broke up for a reason. But what you did not expect were the bitter remarks, the one-word replies, the sarcastic comments that portrayed the antithesis of who he was when he was with you.

Now you bring her around just to shut me down

Show her off like she's a new trophy

And I know if you were true

There's no damn way that you

Could fall in love with somebody that quickly

It all made sense when you began receiving texts from your friends attached with a photo of him with a young fan. You thought it was odd, why were you sent pictures of your ex with a fan, of all things? But there she was, in the background of the photo. Of course. Of course it was her.

More pictures started coming through of both of them in his black Range Rover driving around town, having coffee at your favourite coffee shop. You curse at him, now you have to find a new place to get your coffee. The pictures that stung the most were of the pair of them driving to the training centre together. Imagine the sight of a new couple in town pulling onto the Finch Farm carpark. You knew it wasn’t just a friendly carpool. She’s been staying on my side of the bed, you thought. Meanwhile, you’re still seeking the warmth from his side of the bed.

It dawned on you how much of a fool you’ve been. You feel angry for not trusting your gut, for letting yourself get played, for letting yourself take the beatings from people who had accused you for being with him for his money when it was you who was taken advantage of. If the love he had for you was true, it wouldn’t have taken him that quickly to find someone new.

—

You sat on your sofa for hours. Waiting to feel something other than numbness, the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers from the shock is no longer there. The numbness eventually turned to chills, so you reach for a blanket in the woven basket next to the sofa. You wrap yourself into a cocoon, though all you wanted was to be a butterfly, spread your wings, and fly away. Pathetic. Even my metaphors remind me of him.

Feeling sorry for yourself, you sluggishly stood up and dragged your body to the kitchen and pulled out three different bottles of alcohol from the cupboard—ignoring what a senior had told you in uni to never mix alcohol unless you want to get absolutely wasted. You grab the glass from the top shelf, a cocktail shaker that came with the set your friend had got you for a secret santa gift, and make yourself a drink. One drink turned to two, to three. Then, you started watching recipe videos on YouTube on how to make a pornstar martini, which led to another two. 5 drinks in total. Lucky number 5.

After making a mess on the kitchen island, feeling delirious, you stumble across your flat, bumping a table on your way back to the living room, leaving a bruise on your hip that will hurt in the morning. The alcohol running through your veins giving you the urge to belt out a ballad and pour your heart out, so you somehow managed to open your music and play a song.

Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

You belted every word, not caring if your neighbours could hear you drunkenly sing the words to a depressing ballad about not being enough for a boy.

Realising with what’s left of your consciousness that your balance is becoming unsteady, you stagger your way to your bedroom, extending your arms, careful to not run yourself into any walls.

Upon reaching your bedroom, you undress yourself into just a bra and underwear and dive face first into your made up bed, curl up under the warm covers, and blankly stare at the ceiling. The lights appear as though it’s duplicating with every blink—you could’ve sworn there were only two.

With each passing second, you begin having flashbacks of him. Images of the bedroom you once shared which looks nothing like the room you’re in now tattooed in your brain. Whispers of “I love you,” and “you’re the love of my life,” haunt you as you try to shut your ears with your hands, desperate to rid of his voice. You feel angrier and angrier by the minute, waves of sadness taking over your body. You wanted him to know how you felt. You wanted him to know how badly he’s hurt you, something your sober self would never admit.

So you do what your gut tells you, no sense of reason in the way to stop you from unlocking your phone, scrolling until you’ve reached ‘D’ on your contact list, and clicking the name you’re looking for.

*ring*

*ring*

Pick up.

*ring*

You asshole, pick up.

*ring*

*ring*

Fuck this, I—

“Hello,” a hoarse voice answers. You inhale a sharp breath.

His voice. The exact voice you hear every morning at 6:45am as he kisses you goodbye.

“You, you betrayed me,” you slurred as you made your way to your bedroom. He takes the phone off his ear to look at the Caller ID again, squinting at the bright light. “(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Dom jolted at your voice, the concern in his voice ever so clear, afraid that you might not be okay.

“And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt,” your speech slows down with every syllable, ignoring his question. The sound of his breath tickles your ear, making you squirm a little. On the other line, there he was, awake from his sleep, listening silently to your drunken voice, his heart breaking all over again. “(Y/N), have you been drinking?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

“You talked to her when we were together,” finally throwing the accusation you never would’ve said to his face. He finally put together why you were not yourself towards the end of the relationship, you were convinced he was cheating on you. “I never—it has always been you, only you,” you ignore him. “I promise”, he whispers softly, trying to convince you with what’s left of his heart. He wants you to believe him so badly, but he doesn't know what else to say. Pain revisits him each time he tries to convince you that you’re the only one he’s ever been in love with.

“Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter,” you laugh humourlessly, remembering all the times you wanted to be assured, to be convinced that you were the only one, but his actions suggest otherwise and your paranoia ate you alive. He didn't fight for you even when it was the last straw.

“You gave me your word,” alluding to each time he would tell you that no one else compares to you, each time he made promises about your future together. “It took you two weeks to go off and date her”, you accuse him. “I’m not with anyone,” he says under his breath, knowing you’re too drunk to remember what he says.

“(Y/N)?” Dom asks when he couldn’t hear anything from your end. “Please, can we talk, I—“ “God, I wish that you had thought this through,” you cut him off, your eyes getting heavier by the second, “before I went and fell in love with you”.

There it was. The sentence that ripped him to shreds. The idea that you might have regretted him, regretted being in love with him broke him to bits. He hadn’t realised the damage he’d done during your relationship, and what he did after your break up was unnecessary. He knew what it would look like, to be seen out with her. But he did it anyway to hurt you.

After consuming way too much alcohol, your body feels it’s full effect as your phone slips from your hand and you cave into your tired body.

He hears a loud thump on the other line.

“(Y/N)? Are you there? I—I still love you, can you hear me?”

Line’s dead.

Guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.

[mugiwara-rosewolf]

Alphabet Headcanons

One Piece Edition

Portgas D. Ace

SFW

A= Affection (How affectionate are they with an s/o?)

Ace is a charismatic, kind-hearted man, and with an s/o he’s the consummate gentleman. Especially in the beginning, Ace will check in to see/find out what’s okay with you and what’s not.

For example, let’s say the two of you are walking down the street at a village market. If you feel his pinky twine with yours, the motion will be quickly followed by his warm breath murmuring in your ear; “Is this okay?”

Needless to say, if you reply by intertwining your hand entirely with his, Ace will be over-the-moon and beaming for the rest of the trip. If twining pinkies is all you can handle in public, that’s okay too. Ace will still be happy knowing that you trust him with your boundaries.

Once he knows you’re okay with physical affection, little gestures like these will slowly become the norm. He’ll hold your hand everywhere if you let him. He loves kissing every inch of your face when you’re looking especially cute.

The closer the two of you become, the more he’ll want to show how much he loves you. Whether it’s wrapping an arm around your waist/shoulders, or a fleeting kiss on the cheek--if you allow it, PDA will quickly become one of his favourite things.

As for when he wants affection from you--it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll let on how he’s feeling. He usually hides his bad moods pretty well. But what you’ll learn over time is that he often looks for affection when he’s feeling down.

Sometimes he’ll ask to hold your hand or go in for a hug (often silently, he does tend to get quiet on these kinds of days) and has a hard time letting go once you do. In public, he’ll often opt for the former, because in private he won’t have to let go of you unless you ask him to. 

Other times it’s him just giving you a look. In public, he plays it off as a ‘suave’ eyebrow lift, like an open invite from Casanova. (Though the smile typically gives him away--he’s not always as smooth as he wants to be). In private, it’s the infamous sad, silent, yearning puppy-dog eyes following you around (you know it’s a real bad day when he’s just staring off into space with that look on his face).

All in all, Ace is a very tactile, and affectionate partner. But he will always be sure to confirm what kinds of gestures you’re comfortable with so as not to overwhelm you. He wants you to be comfortable and enjoy his loving gestures whenever possible.

B=Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

Okay, there are two sure-fire ways to really impress this boi. 

First is with your kickass skills. If you can match him or beat him at something, this man will definitely take notice. It could be a physical skill, maybe matching him in a fighting or eating contest. It could be verbal skill--like when you’re roasting his arse for his damned-reckless behaviour. Either way is damn sure to capture Fire Fist’s attention. 

Second would be the smaller, more intimate things. Take his narcolepsy for example. When accommodating for Ace’s narcoleptic episodes, it tugs at his heartstrings when you lay his sleeping head on your shoulder, or bring him down to your lap. When he wakes up to your gorgeous smile and your fingers combing through his hair, he falls in love all over again.

C=Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Honestly, all types of cuddles are Ace’s favorite, he’s just not the type to say so out loud. 

That’s not to say he’s ashamed of his tactile nature. On the contrary,  Ace is especially partial to cuddling you and giving you surprise hugs.

Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation and stuff like that are completely fair game unless you request otherwise. Sometimes he’ll place the faintest of kisses on your forehead as you cuddle into his embrace.

No matter what though, Ace radiates heat. So even just sitting together side by side you can feel how warm his thigh is against your own. He doesn’t really bother to regulate his body temperature either unless someone else points it out. 

But even then, it’s harder for Ace to relax if he has to concentrate on managing his body temperatures. So, cuddles with Ace are always hot. Which…usually means you both end up cuddling or falling asleep with the duvet shoved under you or to the side of you because the heat is too much.

Once he becomes comfortable enough (and ensures that you’re okay with it) there’ll be some nights where he’s just clingy. Sometimes draping himself over your back, sometimes clinging to your torso like a koala cub. He feels comfortable and safe when he can take a nap resting against you. It’s actually kinda cute. 

The only issue is when he falls asleep on top of you and you can’t get him off. He’s basically a human furnace so you just suffer there until he either wakes up or someone comes around to help you.

When he’s having a particularly bad day he gives you The Look (as mentioned in A for Affection) and you know what it means in an instant.

D=Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

“I’ll become a great pirate and show them what I can do!” That’s what Ace declared to his brothers as a child. And in some ways, it could be said he fulfilled that childhood dream. He became the infamous ‘Fire Fist’ Ace--known all across the world in one way or another, even before Blackbeard blabbed about his parentage. He made a name for himself, by himself just as he always dreamed he would.

Yes, his purpose did change upon meeting Whitebeard; wanting his new captain and father figure to become the next Pirate King in order to prove how great a man he was. 

That being said, I can imagine Ace’s dreams evolving yet again when he meets his s/o. Both of the aforementioned goals/dreams are ambitious, but one key commonality between them is that they both seek to Prove something. Therefore it would make sense to presume that the next evolution of his ‘dream’ would share the same foundation.

At the beginning of your relationship, for example, it’s quite possible that Ace’s goal would be to prove that he is worthy of being your partner or to prove how much he loves you in some tangible way.

He dreams of all the ways he can make you smile and laugh and ensure that you’re happy with him. 

He dreams of all the moments you’ve ever said ‘I love you’ and how he could find a way to hear those words again.

He dreams of all the times he’s told you that he loves you and all the possible occasions where he can hold you close and tell you over and over again.

He dreams of returning to Dawn Island, to Fuchsia Village and the mountains where he was raised so he can show you all his childhood memories. 

He dreams of sailing with you and the Whitebeards for the rest of his days. He dreams of proving he can make you happy, in any way that manifests.

In other words—what it all boils down to, truly, is—Ace dreams of being alive  Happy with you.

E=Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

One thing we all know about Ace is that he doesn’t do things half-assed. EVER. 

This boy is dedicated. Once he sets his mind to something, Fire Fist will always follows through (a trait which can turn deadly when combined with his short temper and impulsivity). 

Point being, if Ace wants your relationship to work, he will make it work. Whatever it takes. 

Don’t let his playful charm fool you. Ace is a gentleman who takes your relationship seriously, always treating you with the utmost politeness and respect. 

He’ll open doors for you, he’ll *try* not to swear in front of you (good luck, pirate)--and knowing him the gestures just get more ridiculous from there.

He just wants to show you that he values you and your relationship. The only other people who are of equal value to him are his little brother Luffy and his father Whitebeard. 

All the same, Ace has committed himself to love you, protect you and to make you happy no matter what it takes. 

F=Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

Ace is impulsive and protective. Whatever it is that scares you, Ace’s first instinct is to tackle it head-on. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while he’s around.

At his core, Ace is worried about you. When he sees your fear, he acts without thinking, immediately responding to anything that makes his blood boil. And nothing lights him up faster than his loved ones being insulted and/or threatened.

Fire Fist (with serious effort) can learn to take a step back when he thinks you’re strong enough to handle a particular threat/fear. 

But the moment he thinks you might actually get hurt, all bets are off. He can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt if he can do something to prevent it. This man will die to protect his loved ones. End of story.

G=Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

Ace is not a terribly materialistic person, especially not by pirate standards. (He doesn’t even own a shirt, for God’s sake!)

But the things he does own, mean a hell of a lot to him. (Striker, anyone? Stetson, maybe?) 

So, in that way, finding gifts to give him is kinda challenging. You can’t really get away with the first little trinket that makes you think of him. It needs to be something of hefty significance. 

He doesn’t expect any gifts from you, not even on his birthday. He’ll always be surprised when people get him things. He’s surprised that people value him. 

Due to personal trauma, he doesn’t think very highly of himself. He desperately wants to prove himself a worthwhile part of other’s lives. He wants to be helpful--he needs to be needed. 

So when he’s searching for a gift to give you--he ends up having the same struggle you do with him. He wants to give you something really meaningful. Which is why a lot of his gifts to you will be handmade instead of bought. In each one you’ll be able to see the time and effort he committed to making it for you. 

If one thing can be said about Ace, whatever he goes for, he does so to the fullest.

H=Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

He may not always initiate them, but the boi loves hugs. If you’re comfortable with PDA, he’s definitely adding ‘Hugs’ to his repertoire of affectionate gestures. 

But even more than giving hugs, Ace finds love and gratification in receiving hugs from his s/o--especially when he’s having a tough time (See A for Affection).

Ace knows that he is a tactile person. It’s a truth of his personality that he knows and accepts, but doesn’t often flaunt without reason to do so. Finding his s/o, for example, gives him the perfect opportunity to express this part of himself. 

The second division commander is especially partial to cuddling you and giving you surprise hugs. Tossing an arm over your shoulder, tucking an arm around your waist, Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation--all this stuff is fair game unless you request otherwise (See C for Cuddles).

He especially loves those full-frontal Bear-hugs. You know the kind--the ones where both of you are swathed in each other’s embrace. Arms wrapped around each other, heartbeats pressed together, chins tucked into each other’s shoulders/chests/chins--(trying to accommodate for all heights here, bear with me). 

The point being, Ace loves the moments when the two of you are completely intertwined. That’s when he feels the most grounded. Certain in the fact that he is here, and he is loved. 

Oh! And one more thing. Ace gets surprisingly flustered if you hug him first--sometimes to the point where part of him accidentally catches fire--he’s super careful not to burn you, though. 

But when he hears your contented sigh--god forbid you nuzzle into him--the man just melts. All of his protests fall away, and he’s left standing there, tenderly wrapping his arms around you with the softest love-struck smile in the world.

I=Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Ace is a romantic at heart, of that you can be sure. 

But, he also has deeply internalized abandonment issues and fear of rejection. His father chose to die before he was born. His mother died not long after he was born. Almost everyone who’s ever become attached to him has either died or not stuck around long enough to meet that same fate. 

Not only that but all throughout his life, Ace has been subject to degradation. Strangers saying that his father was a demon and that ‘the child of the Pirate King’ was nothing more than worthless spawn destined to be just as bad--if not worse--than Roger himself. 

As a result, Ace thinks that he is cursed, a worthless son of a demon who will be rejected and abandoned as soon as others learn of his parentage.

So, prior to him sharing his family history with you, Ace will definitely struggle with intimacy. He’s frightened of being vulnerable in case his expectations/fears come true...that you will think just as little of him as he does of himself.  

As his feelings towards you grow, the more those deep-seated fears will swirl in his mind; 

‘If I tell them who I am, they’ll leave me.’

‘They’ll hate me.’ 

‘It’s no use, the moment I fall, they’ll either leave me or die trying.’ 

‘I don’t know which is worse.’  

It’s going to take a lot in order to get through to him. You’ll need to be patient--you can start small and maybe ask about what he wants for the future, or sprinkle in little tidbits about the present, instead of wallowing in the past. You can pave a path forward together just by talking plainly about what you want from your growing relationship.  

As your mutual trust builds, Ace will slowly start to unwind. The more time you spend together, you’ll start to feel each other ‘sync up’ with teamwork and such. He’ll start to grow more comfortable sharing his ideas and opinions, even if the two of you disagree on something. Over time it may get to the point where you and Ace are both acting or speaking at the same time. (Ace finds it endearing, don’t worry). 

Once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his. 

All throughout the growth of intimacy in your relationship, if you pay close attention, you’ll see slow growth in the number of romantic/intimate moments between the two of you. As the intimacy between you grows stronger, you’ll be able to feel its presence--something that brings peace and rejuvenation to both your souls. A bond that is unique to your relationship and allows you both to relax and be at ease. 

At first, moments like this are rare, probably in part because of Ace’s genuine responsibilities to the Whitebeards as a division commander. But as your relationship grows, you’ll notice Ace begin to commit himself more and more to making time for the two of you. Eating meals with you, a lingering hug and kiss at the end of each day and--if he can swing it--arranging a genuinely romantic ‘date’ between the two of you. 

Ace will definitely dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter. As mentioned many times before, Ace will take any excuse to touch his s/o affectionately throughout the day, not just when either of you wants to be romantic. He wants to give you all of his attention whenever he can. Whenever you want to talk to him, expect direct eye contact, perked ears and an affectionate smile.

Though he greatly enjoys PDA with you, Ace also likes the intimacy that comes from privacy. Those moments when he knows you are both in a safe space and can share your feelings with one another, even uncomfortable ones. Privacy also gives him the space to be truly intimate with you, so that he can learn the way you like to be held and touched. He wants to learn about you just as you took the time to learn about him.

J=Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Oof. Okay. Yes, Ace does get jealous. And he’s exactly the kinda jealous you’d think of when the word pops up. There are two, maybe three big traits working against Ace in this regard. 

One would be his reckless and fiery temper. This is the trait that sent him on a deadly goose chase to capture Teach. His mercurial emotions lead him to make hasty, impulsive decisions, sometimes to the point of blatantly forgoing reason. This trait leads to your typical abrupt Alpha-Male confrontation with whatever stranger is trying to flirt with you. 

Second would be his wolf-like protectiveness. This is the trait Akainu used to goad him to his death, first by mocking Whitebeard then by targeting Luffy. Ace can be very protective, though he struggles trying not to be overbearing. If you’re capable of handling a situation yourself, he’ll try his best to stand back and leave it to you.

But, if he feels a situation is getting out of control, he’ll come to your aid in the blink of an eye—literally guns blazing. If Ace hears someone saying lewd comments about you or notices anyone targeting you--ya’ll better believe this man is gonna say/do something about it. 

Third, and perhaps the most powerful motivator in this scenario, is his deep-rooted insecurity. This is a man who has been questioning his worth, his very existence, for as long as he can remember. 

Then you come along, someone who makes this life worthwhile, and he sees you ‘getting comfy’ with someone else. It makes him angry, sure. But more than that it hurts--makes him a question and doubt all over again.

Thus, we have jealousy. Needless to say, Ace will not be thinking clearly when he confronts whoever is getting too close to you. He will be angry and protective and irrational. 

So, unfortunately, it will be up to you to de-escalate things and keep some sort of fight from breaking out. You’ll be the one to pull him away and get him to calm down. You’ll be the one to explain the situation, to talk him through what he’s feeling and why he feels that way. He’ll tell you the truth, you two will make amends (and hopefully plan in case of future incidents). 

Fair warning, in order to fully console your fiery partner, be prepared to give a whole lot of affection and reassurances. And patience, always patience--goodness knows this man is trying his best to be good. Please, grant him grace.

K=Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

Fair warning, it’s likely Ace would have had at least a few flings before you. He’s a handsome, charming guy—guys like him are like flypaper, attracting all the honey’s in a given radius. And with the company he keeps (PIRATES) he’s bound to have spent a night (or ten) in a brothel-esque setting.

All that to say, this man has experience. Not as much as Marco or the other Whitebeards, but still, a little experience counts for something, right?

At the very least, Ace will be a fantastic partner when it comes to kissing, 9 times out of 10, his kisses are either passionate & enthusiastic or affectionate & goofy, especially with an s/o. 

Yes, Ace likes to kiss you, the frequency is irrelevant. Yes, casual PDA is pretty commonplace with him, he fucking loves it. But anything heavier than a peck? He typically prefers to keep that between you and him. 

He is WAY too embarrassed to make out in public. Makino’s manners-lessons are ingrained too deeply by now, even if his s/o is purposefully driving him crazy. --He’s not opposed to a quickie in a broom closet or anything of the sort; just as long the two of you are out of plain view when snogging and such. If you two have at least some modicum of privacy in those more heated moments, Ace considers it fair game. 

The only two exceptions are when he’s feeling playful ‘bet you a hundred berries I can take your breath away’ or jealous ‘you are my treasure, those damned bastards better back off’ —those are his two very different kinds of showing off. 

L=Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Honestly? He’s a little bit of both. 

Whenever Ace says “I love you,” those words are meant for your ears and your ears only. He doesn’t say them all that often, either. 

The more frequent sign of his affection, you’ll realize, is his peculiarly ‘discrete’ flirtations. Murmuring little comments/compliments whenever you cross paths;

 “Great job! You were wonderful back there, darlin’.” 

“That a new hat? Sexy.”

 “You look handsome/beautiful, my love.” 

and of course the obligatory “Last night was *spectacular*”

And it only gets more endearingly ridiculous from there. 

With the help of a bit of alcohol, Ace is plenty more affectionate towards you. He’ll shower you with compliments, make flirtatious jokes, and basically smother you with love. For example, say some of the crew are fawning over someone beautiful like Dracule Mihawk or Boa Hancock. Ace might joke with them, but the moment no one’s looking he’ll murmur in your ear;

 “The Greatest Swordsman ain’t half as sharp as you, babe.” 

or “The Pirate Empress ain’t got nothin’ on you, darlin’,” 

any reaction you might have will be met with a wink and a smirk.

At the start of every day--if he doesn’t say how he looks forward to seeing you again before he leaves, he’ll always acknowledge how much you mean to him-- “I love you.”

M=Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

When he first set out to sea? Ace had no intention of getting married. Falling in love, getting married--the only thing he associated all that with was settling down. ‘Settling down’ in his mind meant the opposite of freedom. So of course none of that ever occurred to him. Having been raised in the wild with only his little brother to love, Ace always assumed that ‘Falling in Love’ was something that happened to other people, not to him. 

As the years went on, Ace’s insecurities also played a role in this misconception--after all, who would want to fall in love with a demon-child like him? The son of the monstrous pirate king could never be loved by a stranger. Even if he did learn to care for someone that way, the moment they learned who he was, they’d betray him in some way. Maybe they’d leave him, turn him in, try to kill him; somehow the world would try to punish him for trusting someone, just like it did with Sabo.

So, even after he builds his own crew, joins the White-beards, even after he gains some experience pub-crawling with the WB Commanders, emotionally he keeps his distance from romance.  That is...until he meets his s/o. Everything about his relationship with you is completely unexpected. He knows that you like him, he knows that you trust him. You took the time to support and get to know him--something not many people in his life had done to such an extent. 

Suddenly, his entire perspective on love is turned on its head. He still doesn’t really give two shits about the institution of marriage. The whole ceremonial pomp and circumstance bit doesn’t really vibe with him. But the idea of you two staying together for the rest of your lives? That he can get behind.

N=Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Honestly, unless someone else brought it up, Ace probably wouldn’t think to do anything fancy for a date. If you were with him and the Whitebeards as they landed on a carnival island or something he could certainly make a date out of it. But unfortunately for your resident hot-head, he doesn’t have much of a propensity of planning ahead. He’s a lot like his little brother in that way--outside of the battlefield, he’s a little bit of a dumbass.

Like, let’s say you land on an island that’s having some sort of cultural festival. The first thing Ace would do is dive head first to plunder all the food-stands, leaving you to trail behind and pay for the mess he made. After he’s had his fill, then you can get properly dressed (if necessary) and enjoy the rest of what the island has to offer. At that point, Ace would remember something besides his hollow leg and try to make up for his embarrassment. 

Good thing he has *the best* wingmen a pirate could ask for; Marco and Thatch. Marco has those empathetic sensibilities, if he’s met you before, then he has a pretty good intuition for the kinds of things you’d like. And Thatch, with that classic pompadour, knows how to put a romantic spin on just about anything. Hell, even Izo would put in his two cents more often than not.  He’d be more than willing to be a co-conspirator, guiding you to through the dates they plan for you and Ace without spoiling the surprise.

Thanks to friends like that, you and Ace get the crow’s next to yourself at least once a month, enjoying a picnic Thatch made for the two of you and basking in each other’s company under the stars. After a while, you might just be able to mark the dates on a calendar. But you don’t mind, Ace enjoys intimacy that comes from privacy. Those moments when he knows you are both in a safe space and can share your feelings with one another, even uncomfortable ones. And besides, the night sky seems to give Ace a certain peace of mind, so it’s all worth it.

O=Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

As mentioned before, Ace doesn’t often plan romantic happenings ahead of time. Mostly because he’s kinds clueless in that department. The most he knows how to do is those little tender gestures; Eating meals with you, a lingering hug and kiss at the end of each day, things like that. He wants to give you all of his attention whenever he can, but he’s not always the best at those big romantic dates. That kind of stuff either occurs by happenstance, or thanks to the orchestrations of friends. 

So whenever Ace does take romantic initiative--unprompted--you bet your bottom dollar it’s gonna be extraordinary. After all, this is Ace we’re talking about. When talking about elaborate activities spent away from the daily routine, the first thing his mind will jump to is Adventure. Nature hikes, scavenger hunts, stargazing on a mountaintop, all the roller coasters at a given carnival--the list goes on.

A lot of these ‘adventures’ will result in him giving you little ‘gifts’ as well; a bouquet of wildflowers he collected on your hike, a scavenger hunt ending in all your favorite things, a plush he spend God knows how many berries on to win for you. The gestures would only get more endearingly ridiculous from there. Granted, a lot of his gifts to you will be handmade instead of bought. But now matter how they were earned, in each one you’ll be able to see the time and effort he committed to making it for you (See G for Gifts).

Ooh! Ace will definitely dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter. Ace will take any excuse to touch his s/o affectionately throughout the day, not just when either of you wants to be romantic (See I for Intimacy).

P=Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

There is no doubt about it. Ace is a complete and utter goofball. Therefore, he is also the goofy-type of lover.  If you ever blush at his teasing, Ace will absolutely relish in it. He’ll find it so adorable that he’s rolling around on the floor. The mental image of your flustered face would be absolutely priceless to him. In all honesty, he’d probably try to experiment from there--see what kinds of teases or compliments get the greatest reaction out of you. 

He does have some empathy for you, though. When Ace was younger he’d act the exact same way. Makino would lovingly tease him and he’d get all flustered too--definitely a shy boy. He loves to joke around and playfully tease his s/o, but at the end of the day, he’s always a sweetheart.

The funny thing about Ace is, the boy loves to not only tease you but to show off. The damned pirate is always trying new tricks with his powers at the most inopportune times. Literally the first thing he thought of when he got his Fire-power was ‘Oh my god, Luffy’s gonna love this!’ Now, the same applies to his s/o. He can’t wait to show you just what he can do. Whenever you are fighting Marines, if he beats one of them up, he always looks up at you and grins. 

Another thing to keep in mind is--regardless of what stage your relationship is in--Ace likes to drag you into his shenanigans. As mentioned earlier, Ace is an gung-ho adventurer. Plundering food stands, conquering roller coasters, this boy has a lot of energy. And if there’s not adventures to be had on a given day, what better way to release it than make himself and his friends laugh?

You need to be prepared for some risk, though. It’s no mystery that Ace is an adrenaline junkie and can have reckless/stupid ideas. Sometimes you both might end up hurt because of his bad decisions. 

Sometimes he’s a sweetheart, sometimes he’s an asshole. But whatever ruckus you got involved in, somehow you always end up happy and smiling.

Q=Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

This is an aspect of your relationship with Ace that develops slowly over time. At first, there’s that goofy, overly-polite layer of him that doesn’t think ahead enough to bother asking questions. At this stage of your connection he behaves in a way similar to the adage that says; ‘Better to ask for forgiveness than permission’. He won’t ask your opinion before he does something, but he may come to you afterwards, either to apologize or reflect on whatever he did. 

After peeling back that layer, you’ll find the lingering remains of his tsundere childhood roots. That lost, self-hating child so desperate to prove his worth and strength that he doesn’t want to be vulnerable to anyone. The boy with whose expression was a stony brick wall deflecting the rest of the world. This is how you’ll know, there’s a part of him believes that showing uncertainty is a sign of vulnerability, something others can mock and degrade, just as the bandits and so many others did. 

At that stage of your connection, it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll let on how he’s feeling. He usually hides his bad moods pretty well. By the time the two of you come together, he’s mature enough to realize that scathing retorts are not the answer to everything. He’s no longer the kind to immediately lash out when someone asks him too many questions--but he certainly will if pushed too far.

But what you’ll learn over time is that he often looks for affection when he’s feeling down. Sometimes he’ll ask to hold your hand or go in for a hug and has a hard time letting go once you do. Other times it’s him just giving you a look. A lot of these gestures are often silent; he does tend to get quiet on these kinds of days. But it’s the first sign of him opening up to you. 

In public, he plays it off as a ‘suave’ eyebrow lift, like an open invite from Casanova. The smile typically gives him away--he’s not always as smooth as he wants to be. In private, it’s the infamous sad, silent, yearning puppy-dog eyes following you around. You know it’s a real bad day when he’s just staring off into space with that look on his face (See A for Affection). 

Once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his (See I for Intimacy). 

In short, yes, Ace will eventually come to rely on you, quite closely, in fact. He will learn that he can ask your opinion on things, that he can share his own thoughts and feelings freely with you at anytime. But it’s a long, arduous journey for him to reach that level of trust. Showing that you love and trust him; asking his opinion on things, standing by him through thick and thin--those are a sure-fire way to build that faithful trust in your relationship.

R=Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Spontaneity is Ace’s middle name (lol). It comes with the territory of being an impulsive, hot-headed dumbass with a penchant for adrenaline and adventure. There are seeds of it scattered throughout his personality and his relationship with you.

Ace will dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter (See I for Intimacy). 

He’ll take any excuse to give you surprise hugs. Tossing an arm over your shoulder, tucking an arm around your waist, Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation--all this stuff is fair game unless you request otherwise (See C for Cuddles).

That combined with his peculiarly ‘discrete’ flirtations--never fail to take you by surprise (See L for Love). 

It’s no mystery that Ace is an adrenaline junkie and can have reckless/stupid ideas. Our resident hot-head doesn’t have much of a propensity for planning ahead. Regardless of what stage your relationship is in--Ace is going to drag you into his shenanigans (See P for Playful).  

And whenever Ace does take romantic initiative--unprompted--you never know what you’re gonna get. Could be nature hikes, could be scavenger hunts, could be stargazing on a mountaintop, or it could be just all the roller coasters at a given carnival (See O for Out of the Ordinary). Honestly, the possibilities are endless.

S=Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

Oh, this one varies. A lot. 

First, there’s Ace’s narcolepsy, which very much affects the way he sleeps with his s/o. Hell, it affects the way he lives his life. But, one inadvertent positive of Ace’s narcolepsy, was how you could surprise him with those small, intimate moments of affection. If he falls asleep hugging you from behind, then he’d just stand there snoring with his chin propped on top of you head (depending on your height). 

If he fell asleep sitting next to you, you could let him rest his head on your shoulder, or pull him down into your lap. That’s one thing he loves, waking up to you. It tugs at his heartstrings when you lay his sleeping head on your shoulder, or bring him down to your lap. When he wakes up to your gorgeous smile and your fingers combing through his hair, he falls in love all over again (See B for Breath).

Second, Portgas D. Ace is a human fucking furnace so honestly, he’s always gonna be warm. The way you sleep together is gonna depend on how much you need that heat. 

If you and Ace are parked on a winter island, you bet your bottom dollar the two of you are gonna be clinging to each other for dear life. Not that Ace necessarily needs any more body heat in order to keep warm. He’s just taking advantage of this prime opportunity for cuddles. He can cling to you like a koala and you’ll actually welcome the gesture. It’s a dream come true!

If you and Ace are parked on a summer/desert island? That’s a whole other debacle. Summer islands are always hot. It’s just a matter of whether it’s dry heat or humid heat. With dry heat--you could *probably* get away with spooning? Or at least with one person lying on the other’s chest. With humid heat--everything is damp, warm, sticky and being near human skin is almost miserable. Your best bet is holding hands while facing each other in your cot/cabin/tent wherever you are. Desert islands are an exception to this because deserts often get pretty chilly once the sun goes down. This is where spooning becomes *most* likely. 

Beyond those two extremes, almost any position is fair game. Ace loves it when he’s in your lap and you’re playing with his hair. There are happy days, where he loves to be the ‘big spoon’ and nuzzle himself in the crook of your neck. And there are hard days, where his mind is a minefield and he just needs someone to hold him close. He loves lying face to face, weaving his fingers between yours. Could be any kind of day, doesn’t matter to him. What matters is that he can just relax and admire you, and just how lucky he is to have you. 

But maybe, just maybe, he does have a favorite way to hold you. Of all the ways in the world to hold someone, Ace loves when you lie on top of him. With your head on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat under your ear. And just like his heartbeat is to you, your weight is an anchor. I can feel you, know that you’re there, present and loving--always loving. So yea, that’s probably his favorite way to be.

T=Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

Given time, Ace will come to trust you with everything he has. But, as mentioned before, it is a very long, slow and arduous journey to reach that point. Luffy had to endure weeks, if not months, of Ace trying to lose his tail, if not actively trying to kill him, before they reached a point of mutual trust. From then on, Ace was willing to protect his brother with everything he had--including his own life. 

But before you can get to that point, you must assuage his deeply internalized abandonment issues and fear of rejection. All throughout his life, Ace has been subject to degradation. He grew up internalizing the hate directed his way, and no one knew to contradict it. Almost everyone who’s ever become attached to him has either died or not stuck around long enough to meet that same fate (See I for Intimacy). 

As a result, Ace has a lot of self-hatred accumulated in his heart. He also has a lot of problems being open about it. He’s so used to shouldering mistakes that are not his own. His blood carries all the crimes of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King. He’s frightened of being vulnerable in case his expectations/fears come true...that you will think just as little of him as he does of himself.

Ace will definitely struggle with trusting you. This is an aspect of your relationship with Ace that develops slowly over time. At first, there’s that goofy, overly-polite layer of him; he’s cordial, charming, and fun to be around. But it’s hard to get a clear read on him at that point; who he is, how he thinks, and how his thoughts influence his actions (See Q for Questions). 

After peeling back that layer, you’ll find the lingering remains of his tsundere childhood roots. That lost, self-hating child so desperate for a reason to live. He tells the world that he wants to be remembered. He wants to prove that he, as an individual, is worth more than the legacy of his father. But that dream, that grand ambition, also translates itself in smaller ways. He wants to be wanted, needs to be needed. 

At that stage of your connection, it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll confide in you. He’s no longer the kind to immediately lash out when someone asks him too many questions--but he certainly will if pushed too far. Even then, he’s not likely to explicitly tell you this deep-rooted need in the core of him. So it’s likely something you’ll have to learn by observing his words, his actions, his being (See Q for Questions). 

However, with you around--especially when your relationship becomes more stable and long-standing--he slowly breaks.  As your mutual trust builds, Ace will slowly start to unwind. The more time you spend together, you’ll start to feel each other ‘sync up’ with teamwork and such. He’ll start to grow more comfortable sharing his ideas and opinions, even if the two of you disagree on something (See I for Intimacy).   

That being said, once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his (See I for Intimacy). 

In short, yes, Ace will eventually come to rely on you, quite closely, in fact. He will learn that he can ask your opinion on things, that he can share his own thoughts and feelings freely with you at anytime. But it’s a long, arduous journey for him to reach that level of trust. Showing that you love and trust him; asking his opinion on things, standing by him through thick and thin--those are a sure-fire way to build that faithful trust in your relationship. With your constant support, he becomes more confident and calm--and he’s definitely sure he is loved.

U=Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

Oh, so many things. Ace is such a unique combination of character traits, sometimes it’s difficult to articulate just how they call fit together in one human being. 

As an s/o, Ace is cordial, charming, and ever-the respectful gentleman. Then you get to know him, and he becomes this goofy dumbass who will take any excuse to touch you, hold you and take you on these crazy adventures exploring the world together. Dive even deeper, and you discover the utter depth of him. He is a vulnerable soul who has internalized the worst of the world he was born into--yet he stills finds reason to smile. 

What makes Ace unique as an s/o? His resilience. If you two come to a disagreement, he may lose his temper in the moment. But give him time, give him patience, give him grace, and he will come back to you. No matter his fears, no matter his doubts, he will find a reason to push through. If one thing can be said about Ace, whatever he goes for, he does so to the fullest (See E for Effort).

That’s not to say resilience can’t be a double-edged sword. There are a few coping mechanisms Ace developed in order to persevere through life that actually inhibited his ability to connect with people the way he longed to. After all, how many times did Whitebeard have to deflect Ace before the boy understood that he didn’t have to fight his way through life? And how many times did Luffy have to almost-die chasing the lonely boy through the jungle before he finally accepted the company? 

All the same, if you remain just as stubborn as he is, you will give him yet another reason to get back up; another reason to live. Take this hypothetical argument as an example. It may take a few tries to get through his thick skull, but he you will eventually talk things out and come to a resolution. He’ll grow from the experience and the two of you will be all the stronger for it. That’s what perseverance and resilience is all about.

V=Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

If you were ever vulnerable around Ace, he would support you wholeheartedly. If you were to get stuck in your own negative thoughts/feelings about yourself, he’d hold you as close as possible and refuse to let go until you admit you’re a good person. No matter what you say about your past/insecurities, Ace won’t judge you or let you feel as though you deserve any of the trauma you went through (big or small). He knows that you are better than you think you are and he won’t let you feel the same kind of self-loathing he has. 

Ace is a very outgoing man. He’s surrounded by countless friends and keeps making new ones every day. There’s something in his exceptional charisma that makes people cling to him. However, Ace does not open up easily to others. It would take a while for Ace to really open up to his s/o, just because he’s internalized all of his negative thoughts and feelings about himself from a young age. 

Over time, however, he’d slowly grow to trust you and one night, when it’s just the two of you together somewhere, Ace would just tell you what’s on his mind. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you--your love--or anyone’s really.” 

The conversation would turn into the two of you opening up to each other (equivalent exchange for the win!) Ace would tell you about all the things weighing him down; his father being Gol D. Roger, his mother dying to keep him safe from the World Government, being called a ‘Demon-child’ all his life, his time in the mountains with Luffy and Sabo, meeting Whitebeard and joining the family--all of it. 

By the end of his story, tears soak his cheeks, his lips are red and raw, his voice hoarse and his words thick with emotion. He looks like a mess and you won’t know how to fix it. The best you can do is hold him, guide him through it. 

The conversation would likely end with both of you promising to support each other from then on. Whenever one of you starts to feel insecure or lingers too much on the past, you’ll have a keyword to communicate how you’re feeling. 

He might not acknowledge ever being in this state later on, but he will thank you quietly that night--and every night after if you’ll let him. “Thank you...thank you for loving me.”

W=Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

Ace does not share food. EVER.

His narcolepsy makes him fall asleep in the weirdest situations--and in the weirdest positions. You can’t possibly count the number of times you fell to the ground because he dozed off while carrying you on his shoulders.

Or because he does it mid-kiss or hug and just leans on you. Or because he trips and accidentally knocks you down. He’s not even ashamed of it--unless you get hurt somehow during these incidents--otherwise he’ll just laugh it off, if a little sheepishly.

X=X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Ace is our resident self-deprecation machine. Whatever happened, however you got hurt, the man would find some way to blame himself. Always thinking; it should have been me. 

He would be terrified out of his mind. He knows you’re strong, but sometimes he forgets that you can still get knocked down. He’ll camp outside the infirmary door until he’s allowed to come in. The moment he’s given the go-ahead, he’ll charge into the room and wrap you up in his arms as close as he can. He needs to feel you and reassure himself that you’re alright. 

Even after he’s been assured that you’re okay and that you’ll recover, Ace will hardly leave your side unless there’s some unavoidable responsibility he has to take care of. There will be moments when his mind will try to twist things and make him feel like a bad partner; as if he’s the reason for your injury, whether because he was the target of the attack or because he couldn’t protect you. 

You’ll have to be the one who keeps those thoughts at bay. Ace will make sure you never want for anything, for as long as you’re recovering. He won’t ask for anything in return. But between him supporting your physical health and you supporting his mental health, the whole ordeal will only serve to make your relationship stronger.

HOWEVER-- once he finds out who hurt you--he’s going to be just as relentless as he was chasing Teach. The guilty party won’t even be able to hold a pencil again once Ace is done with them (if they’re even still alive afterwards). 

Y=Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

If you try and steal his food, he will bite you. There’s still a Little bit of that feral child energy that rears up whenever something annoys him. He does not appreciate jump scares for that exact reason. His adrenaline and danger radar will immediately be turned up to 11 and he is no longer responsible for how he responds to the perceived danger. (Though he’ll probably apologize profusely anyways, cause he’d feel horrible if you got hurt by his knee-jerk reactions). 

On the other hand, there are a few scenarios when perhaps his narcolepsy can become a bit trying. If he starts snoring when you’re in the middle of telling him something important. If he falls asleep on top of you and you can’t get him Off. There could also be situations where his formality gets in the way of what you’re really trying to talk about. Once he starts apologizing for something, things can go on for a while. But the level to which these quirks annoy people, depends on the individual.

Z=Zeal (Are they passionate as an s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

Ace is, as always, full of passion and impatience. He’ll certainly appreciate a similar amount of fervor from his partner, but it’s not a criteria, by any stretch. Whether you’re extroverted, introverted, bouncy or chill AF, he’ll gladly accept you exactly the way you are.

On his end, however, there are instances where Ace’s intensely passionate personality can come back to bit him in the ass. One would be his reckless and fiery temper. This is the trait that sent him on a deadly goose chase to capture Teach. It also leads to your typical abrupt Alpha-Male confrontation with whatever stranger is trying to flirt with you (See J for Jealousy). 

His mercurial emotions and stubborn determination lead him to make hasty, impulsive decisions; sometimes to the point of blatantly forgoing reason. Once he sets his mind to something, Fire Fist will always follows through--a trait which can turn deadly when combined with his short temper and impulsivity (See E for Effort) .

At the very least, Ace will be a fantastic partner when it comes to kissing, 9 times out of 10, his kisses are either passionate & enthusiastic or affectionate & goofy, especially with an s/o (See K for Kisses).

In the end, if there’s one thing we all know about Ace--it’s that he doesn’t do things half-assed. EVER. This boy is dedicated.  Point being, if Ace wants your relationship to work, he will make it work. Whatever it takes.

[tiredassmage]

Character Profile ❅ Astor Caulfield

But the AU one. Also yes, I just took a bunch of pics in one set, shhh, am lazy atm.

BASICS ---

Name: Astor Monroe Caulfield

Age: 28 years (By approximately Heavensward)

Nameday: 17th sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Race: Midlander Hyur

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Martial Status: Single, though still mourning

OC Tags: ch: astor caulfield, vs: dragonsong (the first being his overall character tag, the second being specifically for our lovingly dubbed heretic au x,D, which this sheet is for!)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---

Hair: Dark brown, usually pulled back into a single, neat braid, though occasionally simply done up in a ponytail. When free, full length hangs roughly about his mid-shoulders down his back. He somehow manages to keep it relatively neat, despite the relatively frequent travel - part of why it’s usually tied up.

Eyes: A pale crystal blue, almost gray if you catch him in the right (or wrong) lighting.

Height: 5 fulms, 10 ilms.

Build: Average, with broad shoulders.

Distinguishing Marks: Little physically that isn’t covered by general physical descriptions. The stark contrast of his dark hair and pale eyes is usually enough to stick to people, if they’re trying, and the way his hair is always braided back.

Common Accessories: Generally carries a full deck of arcanima, regardless of current job. Generally wears a relatively simple band with a small design of blue gems set into it resembling ice or crystal. A simple leather necklace with an aged, once silver (at least in color, if not partially in material) charm usually worn freely over robes and other clothing - an inheritance from his mother.

PERSONAL ---

Profession: Scion of the Seventh Dawn, he supposes, if you’d want to be technical. Generally speaking, just an adventuring companion to the Warrior of Light. Previously, a high-ranking member of Iceheart’s band, and something of an unofficial keeper of their knowledge.

Main Job: Astrologian and, later, Summoner, learned in the course of helping the Scions and Warriors of Light combat the persistent primal threat.

Hobbies: Gardening, a light and quiet enthusiast for drawing (he keeps a small journal of sketches of various landmarks and such from his adventures that he also keeps little scribbles of notes in, don’t perceive him, especially if he didn’t tell you). Let him hear of animals in need of rescue or adoption at your own risk because he’ll probably at least really consider taking them on himself. Occasionally indulges in a little fortune telling with his deck. Not that he’d admit it. And not that he’d do it for just anyone. Usually for his own peace (or opposite) of mind.

Languages: Possessed of the Echo, but native to the Eorzean Common Tongue, both spoken and written.

Residence: He hasn’t really felt settled anywhere since he left Tailfeather and Anyx Trine behind, but likely has a small retreat of a residence either somewhere in Gridania or Revenant’s Toll, so as not to be too far from Scion operations when necessary.

Birthplace: Tailfeather, the Dravanian Forelands. A little north of it, technically. But it’s the closest town, and that’ll do.

Religion: Though not exactly practicing, had offered his beliefs to the Twelve, and selected patron in Nymeia, the Spinner, though adventures since would have made him question a fair bit of things.

Fears: Disinclined to be totally alone, abandoned. Wildfires. Being manipulated and used as a tool or weapon, particularly against the few he does cherish. Not being fast enough to save someone else he loves - and, worse, not being able to do a damn thing even if he was there.

RELATIONSHIPS ---

Spouse: Ysayle. No, he’s never quite recovered, even by Shadowbringers, though he has learned to live with it, to carry his grief and move forward, instead of being held back.

Children: None, currently. Though he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

Parents: A father he didn’t know too well, lost to bandits on the roads when he was sixteen, and his mother, Gaia, lost when he was eighteen to illness.

Siblings: None

Other Relatives: None by blood, though the Scions are something of a found family, with time. He has also endeared himself to several of the dravanian residents of Anyx Trine, and got no small amount of delight in working with the younglings.

Pets: A hunting hawk named Zephira he nursed back to health from a broken wing.

TRAITS ---

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

HABITS ---

Smoking: Never

Drugs: Never

Alcohol: Occasionally, and only lightly. Usually socially.

ABOUT ---

Born and raised in the Dravanian Wilds to a humble hunter and trader and healer who had spent some time studying in New Sharlayan before she had left, Astor would see little of his father in his youth, though he’d know him to be a decent and loyal man. He was closest with his mother - almost insparable, they were just as much friends and as family. From her, he soaked up as much of her knowledge as she could share, eagerly taking after her in learning healing arts from conjury to the art of the astrologians. The young boy was particularly entranced with the art of drawing magic from the heavens and their representative cards. Together, him and his mother ran a small clinic from their home just north of Tailfeather, occasionally traveling into town to trade and work with the hunters there.

On one of his hunting and trading trips, his father was killed by bandits and thieves when he was sixteen, leaving just him and his mother with little closure on the who of the deed - not that it mattered. Knowing wouldn’t bring him home, and they still had lives to lead for themselves, and patients to tend to, so they carried on. Sadly, one might have said it was the first strike of tragedy, as his mother feel ill no more than two years later, and, despite his best efforts both physical and magical, her condition refused to improve until she passed shortly after his eighteenth nameday. Though the boy struggled to grieve the loss of his closest friend, he persisted their work in the clinic for two more years before the Calamity struck and changed everything as all had known it.

In the cold and snows that followed, Astor met Ysayle, and the pair of dreamers quickly grew close. Astor packed up to follow her where her dreams would lead them - into revolution, change for a better future, and an end to a war that had mired so many lives for far too long.

Over time, he became one of her most trusted comrades, filling a role akin to a second-in-command, often tending to their forces himself in the wake of skirmishes and conflict with Ishgardian forces and otherwise. When finally the Scions and the Warriors of Light entered the fray, it was with wariness and caution he met these would-be heroes. His trust would not be so easy to earn; he would not risk all they had worked for thus far - beloved, just hero of the realm or just some overzealous knights filled with lies and duty. Though, if Ysayle deemed them worthy of trust and cooperation... he would concede, for now. But he’d be keeping a very close eye on them.

Ysayle’s eventual death struck him hard and shook him to the core. He was quick to withdraw from their new would-be companions in his struggle to process the loss, though he ultimately agreed to see the battles through to the end - their vision, their dreams, could not end here. As Ishgard entered a period of reform and unrest in the wake of Thordan’s defeat and demise, Astor withdrew further to Anyx Trine, preferring to spend his time with the dragons - the better to perhaps find his own footing in the new unstable ground the nation tread upon.

Eventually, the mage would re-approach the Scions and Warriors of Light and ask, if they would permit it, something of a second try... He... had not exactly been warm with them before then, but... they had helped, when it wasn’t their fight, really... And Ysayle had believed in them. Trusted them. And this was all real... it was really happening... And he couldn’t stay.

He needed a new purpose, a new direction. One he could, perhaps, call more of his own. He would join them in their battles and adventures, if they would be amicable to it... For those they had lost. For those they could yet save.

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks. 

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day.  I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong.  I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and  I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.                

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

[legends-of-apex]

Loba x Reader x Crypto: ‘Something More’ (Part 2/2) SMUT 18+

Summary: A continuation of Part I in which Loba, Crypto and The Reader go back to the Reader's room in the legends compound to decrypt the files taken from Pathfinder's chip. Inevitably, Loba's proposition is brought up and smut ensues. You can also read this on AO3 if you prefer!

A/N:  Hello! Here's the second and final part. This chapter does contain smut after the cut. I've spent the best part of a month on this so I promise there is still a plot as well :D Hope you like it! And I would love to hear your thoughts!  Reader's pronouns aren't specified however they are referred to as having a vagina/breasts etc. so please keep that in mind x Warnings under the cut!

Words: 7, 788

Warnings: This fic contains heavy smut including oral (reader receiving and giving), fingering, penetrative sex and scissoring

The rest of the match went relatively uneventfully, with the three of you finishing fourth after being ambushed by another squad. There hadn’t even been enough time to see who it was before you blacked out. When you awoke, a bright light beaming down upon you made you squeeze your eyes shut again. Forcing yourself to sit up, you felt the familiar rubber of the med bay beds beneath your fingertips. When you dared open your eyes again the lights weren’t so bad and you could actually look around the room. Your head felt heavy, your mind off-centered. A nurse was wrapping your fingers around a glass of water before you could ask for one to soothe your aching throat.

“Hey, can you tell me where you are?” He asked you. Bright eyes brimmed over the top of his surgical mask. He was the same nurse from every other time you were revived after a match and he always had the same questions.

“The med bay back at the compound?” You asked, cautiously lifting the water to your lips.

“Yeah! Well done out there today. You guys were great!” He took the empty glass from you when you were finished and set it down by the sink, his black scrubs rustling as he moved around the room, looking at the various monitors that hung like cobwebs from the walls, “How are you feeling?”

“Just a small headache. The usual.” You answered, knowing if you gave even a slightly different answer you could end up stuck in here for days. The headache you had post-match was always the same, pounding and everywhere all at once. It probably had something to do with the serum they used to revive you after the match but you were more concerned about Loba and Crypto right now. You hadn’t seen them go down.

“Great! Well, you’re all healed, vitals are great. You’re free to head out.” He seemed to sense your eagerness to leave and for that you were thankful.

Loba was waiting for you outside the room when you stepped out, pushing herself off the wall and uncrossing her arms when she saw you. She walked towards you with her arms open, engulfing you in a hug when she reached you. With her six-inch heels and already naturally impressive height, she almost dwarfed you, your chin only just being able to rest atop her shoulder. You knew she was just glad you were okay, but displays of affection were rare for her. Even if the hallway you were in was empty. Usually, she wouldn’t be caught sharing any shred of weakness, but after a match? She always got a little sappy, even if she would never admit it.

“Shall we go wait for the hacker?” She pulled back to look at your face and you nodded before taking her hand, walking towards Crypto’s usual med bay room. His name printed on the outside of the door. Loba peered through a tiny window in the door. “Is he still in there?” You asked. It was unusual for anyone to be kept so long and he knew not to say anything that might prolong his stay. Unless there was some kind of complication? You tried not to think about it.

Loba scoffed. “Oh please, he wouldn’t leave without seeing you alive and well first. He’s still in there alright.” She spared a glance your way and recognised that look on your face. You were worried, even though the chances of any post-match complications were extremely low, nearly non-existent. “I wouldn’t worry, sweetheart. He was downed last so they’ll have had less time with him than us.” She saw that did very little to calm your nerves and decided to change the subject to take your mind off of it. She lowered her voice, knowing for sure that there were cameras and microphones all over this place. “Hey, we might get some promising information out of that chip, huh? Any information we can get on them brings us one step closer, no matter how small the step.” All you did was nod when usually you’d be beaming with excitement at the prospects of new information on the Syndicate and you weren't doing a particularly good job of hiding the fact that you couldn't care less about anything right now except for Crypto still being in that room.

“You really give a shit about him, huh?” she asks and you look to her, confused.

“If it was you in there I’d be just as worried.” Loba sighed and took your hand again, bringing your knuckles to her lips before squeezing your fingers gently, careful not to scratch you with her nails. That meant more to her than you knew.

The door before you opened with a click as Crypto finally emerged, hands already stuffed back in his jacket pockets by the time the door shut behind him. The look of relief on your face was enough to tell him you’d been worrying. You had dropped Loba’s hand in an instant and went to hug him, opening your arms a little first and waiting for his permission. He felt himself sigh into your arms, his own wrapping around you tightly as he could. However brief, he would always treasure each touch you gave him. You made him realise how much he craved being held, being close to people. It made him forevermore thankful that he was lucky to be as close to you as he was, even Loba as well to some extent. You shared a piece of your life with him, your kindness, your time and occasionally: your bed. Whilst you did the same for Loba, he never found himself growing jealous, only more thankful to have you when he did.

“You still got the chip?” Loba asked him over your shoulder. He nodded. “We had better get to it. The decryption might take a while.”

The first thing you did when you got back to your room was kick off your shoes and flop down, face-first, on your bed. All the running and the stress of the games could really take its toll. Meanwhile, Crypto headed straight for your PC, plugging in all kinds of strange contraptions and external hard drives no doubt filled with some kind of dodgy software. Loba asked if she could use your shower to which you told her there were already fresh towels in there ready to be used as you gathered a bundle of clothes for her to wear when she finished.

You looked to your broken arm shield emitter and groaned as you were getting changed into more comfortable clothes than your games gear, the realisation that you actually had to fix it dawned on you. You struggled to your feet and pulled up a chair beside Crypto at your desk and released the shield from your arm with a whirr. Most of it had survived, only a few small grenade fragments lay buried within it. Easy fix.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I overheard some of what you guys were saying earlier. Loba had her communicator still on. And I just want you to know that although I did tell Loba about us sleeping together, I haven’t said a word about… you know, you. Your identity. That’s yours to tell and I would never betray that information to anyone, even Loba.” You were one of two living people with the privilege of referring to him by his real name in private. By telling you about his past, even just by telling you his name, he put so much trust in you. And you wouldn't betray that for anyone.

He stopped typing to look at you, letting you know he was sincere. “I know you wouldn’t. I trust you more than anyone. But thank you for the reassurance. And I’m sorry that you heard that, I don’t wish for you to be treated like an object.”

You knew then that he didn't quite trust Loba’s intentions with her proposition but were quick to reassure him. “Oh, don’t worry. Loba asked if I was down for it beforehand. And it’s sweet that you two want to make me feel good, but I don’t require any payment for what I do for you two, especially in that kinda way. I do it because I care about you.” Tweezers in hand, you carefully began removing the fragments from your device. It was a good excuse to not have to look Taejoon in the eye during the conversation.

“Heh, that’s precisely why Loba thought you to be deserving of such an arrangement. And I have to say, I agree. You need to let us give back to you, though it doesn’t have to be in the form of what Loba was suggesting. In any way that you choose.” You could have laughed. On their own, they were amazing enough, both more than proficient and attentive lovers but together? You couldn't help but groan at the thought. “ Trust me , as long as you two are up for it that arrangement is totally fine by me! I couldn't think of anything better.”

You see Crypto’s head move suddenly in the corner of your eye, you turn to see Loba looking the softest you had ever seen her. Her hair was damp, falling all the way down to her waist. A pair of your baggy sweatpants hung low around her hips. She looked comfortable, her eyes held no sense of impending danger and you swore it was the first time you had seen her so at ease.

“Is that my shirt?” Crypto asks and she shrugs, looking down at the plain black material. “I don’t know, is it? It’s… cute?”, You sheepishly turn back to face Crypto as Loba dives straight onto your bed, stretching out on her back. “Maybe?” you offered, knowing damn well it was his from the last time he had stayed over. He wasn’t going to pry it off of you as you slept, especially since you looked so comfortable. It was his pair of sweatpants too, but he didn't need to know that. A low grumble sounded from your stomach and you took that to be the perfect topic change, “How about take-out?”.

“Lovely idea, I’m starving!”

You phoned up the best pizza company you knew, the woman on the line informed you that it would take a while because of the games. People liked to go for pizza after watching the apex games apparently. “We’re going to have to wait a while.” You said solemnly, hopping onto your bed behind Loba and taking your hairbrush from her hand. Her hair was long and so very soft. Crypto politely excused himself to also take a shower whilst you played with her hair. You combed through it with your fingers first. Loba released a long breath as you dragged the brush from the edge of her forehead, down her scalp and all the way down her back, holding the ends in your other hand. “So Crypto’s down for your idea.” You gently gathered her hair together in a bunch before letting it fan out again over her back, the strands so long they reached the covers below.

Loba leant back a little, resting on her palms. “Oh? I’m not surprised. He seems like he would do anything that involves you. That poor boy looks at you like you’re made of gold.” She chuckled, looking back at you over her shoulder. You pecked her lips, her skin was soft and supple with a subtle hint of cherry lip balm. “Ugh, I can’t wait to devour you.” She groaned, “If he doesn’t get out of that shower in the next two minutes, we’re starting without him.”

“So impatient!” You laughed, “Hair up or down?”

“Eh, leave it down.”

Crypto made his way out the bathroom still towelling off his soggy hair. He set his jacket on the back of your desk chair, along with his waistcoat and every other piece of his games gear apart from his baggy trousers and t-shirt. The pendants on his necklaces jingled together as he moved around, like a cat with a bell.

Far too impatient for subtly it seems, Loba decided now was the best time to initiate things “She looks good enough to eat, don’t you think Crypto?” He stops in his tracks, towel still raised to his head with his mouth hanging open before he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He hummed in agreement, taking the towel and folding it in half before laying it over the chair behind him. He now leaned his back against the desk so he could face you, bare arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you. You couldn’t help but blush at Loba’s words and the way he was looking at you, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

Loba now turned to face you, mischief and wanting in her eyes and leaned in close. “We would love to take care of you if you’ll have us, of course.” She pressed a single kiss to the side of your neck, your skin tingling from the warmth of her lips, “What do you say?” You turned your attention back to Crypto who looked at you in question, his head tilted. Neither of them were moving without your say so.

“Sounds perfect.”

With that pushed you back so your head lay gently on the pillows. Her finger wagged in Crypto’s direction when he took a step forward, telling him to stay put. He gulped and leant back against the desk again. “Well then. Just relax and let us take care of you, hm?” She ended her question with a smile, already sliding downwards onto the bed in front of you. Placing her hands on either side of your sweatpants and giving the outside of your thighs a light squeeze. She looked up at you through her lashes, asking if she could take them off. You nodded and soon she had them tugged off, your socks soon followed.

She leant right down, pressing a kiss to the cloth of your underwear, her lips putting the lightest flutter of pressure on your heat. Your mouth fell open and she laughed quietly, seeing a dark patch on the fabric of your underwear. “Mhmm already dripping for us, Crypto.” she called back to him over her shoulder, “What do you say we take these off as well? No need to be shy. We already know how beautiful you are, sweetheart.” You nodded again, her fingers delicately taking the band of your underwear and making quick work of shimming them off your legs. A string of words, no doubt in Portuguese left her, as she took a moment to look at you. She had spoken far too quickly for you to have any hope of understanding what she was saying.

Her hands were on your sides in an instant, and her lips were back on yours as her hands made their slow descent back down towards your heat. Her kisses a rough contrast to the preciseness of her touch. She kissed with her heart it seems, everything else was calculated. A shiver wracked its way through you when her fingertips reached the hem of your shirt, but she didn’t lift it, only gently massaged the bottom of your stomach and over the tops of your thighs. Circular motions everywhere except the place you wanted them to be.

Her lips left you as you whined softly, “So eager.” she smiled at you again, before leaning in to kiss your neck as her fingers finally touched where you so craved them so much. A moan escaped you as she wasted no time in finding your heat, circling her two fingertips within its wetness before dragging them up and down your slit. Over her shoulder, you could see Crypto standing biting his lip so hard it looked like it would bleed, face flushed.

Sucking gently on the soft skin of your neck, Loba pressed her two fingers right onto your clit. You couldn’t help the noises that escaped you or how you clung to her so desperately. She soon switched back and forth between gently massaging all-around your folds and slowly circling one finger directly to your nub. She was teasing you. The alteration driving you insane, legs beginning to shake. Just as you felt the dam about to burst she drew back away from you entirely, leaning back on her knees as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked on them lightly.

“How does she taste?” Crypto asked, his face warm. Loba leaned back from you and you near-whined at the loss.

She brought her fingers back down your heat and gathered some of your wetness onto her fingers again, standing and extending her fingers in his direction. “Like honey. Want to try?” He bypassed her altogether and walked towards you. “Suit yourself, Hacker,” she rolled her eyes.

“May I?” He asked so softly you nearly melted then and there. “Yes, please.” You managed and before you knew it he was sliding one of your legs over his shoulder, shortly followed by the other. He began by pressing the gentlest of kisses to your thighs.

“Ooh nevermind.” Loba went back on her previous statement with an approving nod of her head, “One second.” The glare he sent in her direction could’ve stopped a charging bull but Loba just waved him off and laid down beside you, pulling you into her lap so she could support your body. Crypto tugged you down towards him so the back of your head rested against Loba’s chest. Warmth radiated from Loba’s body beneath you in a constant wave of gentle, comforting heat but your focus wasn’t on her right now.

The moment his mouth made contact with your core, your body went lax. His tongue came right after and your back arched with such ferocity that Loba almost lost her hold on you. When the most desperate noise left you, you felt the vibrations of his laughter roll through you and his hands gripped the tops of your thighs more firmly to keep you in place. His eyes flickered up to you for a moment, soon after your hands found his hair, tugging lightly on the damp ends in an attempt to have him closer.

Loba’s lips ghosted over the shell of your ear “I know you said he was good but you really weren’t kidding,” she whispered before her mouth before she latched her lips back onto your neck.

Tugging his hair seemed to only spur him on more as the groan he emitted was borderline feral, bringing his tongue to circle over your clit at such a pace that the pressure built within you to the point where you were about to burst and likely would have had to not pulled back for a second to quickly catch his breath and get a better look at you.

“I know you want to come on his tongue, beautiful. Go on.” Crypto was back between your legs then, doubling his pace. “Come for us.” She whispered just as Crypto decided to wrap his lips around your clit and suck. You lurched upright, grip tight on his hair as you grind your pussy against his lips. When he slowly coated one of his fingers before slowly pressing it into you and pumping to the rhythm of his mouth, that was it for you.

Your body barely felt like you controlled its movement anymore as pleasure wracked its way through you in gushing waves. A drawn-out moan you’d probably be embarrassed about later escaped you as you went limp in Loba’s arms. Crypto helped you ride it out, wanting to make you feel the best he could. His tongue didn’t leave you until your pussy ceased its tensing then releasing around his finger, pulling it out of you and to his lips immediately. Loba’s arms kept you steady as your body slowly returned to normal, cold air stinging as Crypto left you. You missed his mouth and hands on you immediately but Loba was quick to distract you by helping you rid yourself of your shirt all whilst trying to keep her lips latched on to yours. Her fingers so swift in how they undressed you and herself that you were suddenly reminded that she was a thief, quick hand movements were her speciality. Her hand came to cup your bare breast for a moment, glee in her eyes at the sight. Once you helped her out of most of her clothes, you felt Crypto’s lips on the side of your neck. His mouth leaving marks no doubt right beside the ones Loba had made already. A hand in his hair again had him whimpering. Loba noticed and released you so you turned to face him, your mouth finding his as you stood on shaky legs. His lips were swollen but still soft. He kisses you like it was the last time he would have the chance, one hand gently cupping your face as his other arm wrapped around you.

“I’m going to let you two have this round.” You pulled back from Crypto and looked at her with confusion, she hadn’t even had any kind of pleasure yet and she still insisted you and Crypto go ahead. “I like to watch.” She clarified with a smirk, seating herself in your desk chair, legs folded neatly over one another. Her lacy black bra and panties somehow made her even more attractive but comply with her wishes you would. Plus you wanted the chance to repay Crypto for his services.

Soon enough, Crypto is stripped of all but his boxers, seated upright at the edge of your bed and facing Loba’s general direction. Running your finger over his cheekbone, you look down to notice just how hard he is. “You like eating me out that much, huh?” You asked as you swung one leg over both of his and knelt so you could grind against him, wringing your arms around his neck. You felt just how hard he was then and Crypto looked like he might have came if you weren’t careful, his mouth opened slightly, eyes closed. His hands found the bottom of your back to keep you steady as you slowly grinded onto him, feeling the hard outline of him pressing against your sensitive lips. “예수 그리스도'' He moaned at the feeling, bottom lip now trapped between his teeth.

“Really wanna ride you.” You told him and his eyes snapped open, hand gently cupping your cheek as he brought you in for another kiss.

“Then ride me.”

You sat back from him to run your fingers over his clothed cock, feeling it twitch with your touch. Soft moans fell from his mouth with each drawn-out stroke, he was so terribly sensitive. Tentatively tugging down his boxers, you freed his member from its confines and rubbed along the shaft before thumbing its tip. His throat hitched.

“If you keep touching me like that, this is going to be over a lot quicker than either of us could have hoped,” His hand found your bare pussy again, fingers gliding through your folds to make sure you were still wet enough to take him, “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Leaning further forward so your hips rested against his, bracing against his strong chest for support, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m ready.” You told him. Without a word, Crypto reached down and aligned the two of you before oh-so-slowly lowering you back down onto his lap, feeling his length buried within you to the hilt.

You moaned together when he filled you, Crypto burying his head in your shoulder when you began to move, his hips rocking to meet the rhythm of yours. It felt delicious, his length rubbed your walls in all the right places and you felt a pressure begin to build quickly within your stomach again. His moans were so soft you almost had to strain to hear him but his strong grip on your hips as you swayed atop him telling enough.

Looking over your shoulder for a moment, you saw Loba lazily rubbing herself through her underwear, her eyes utterly transfixed on you and Crypto. One particularly measured thrust on his part hit your most sensitive spot directly and had your attention turned all the way back to him immediately. Gripping his hair as you rode him, you felt the pressure of his teeth on your shoulder as he bit back a moan. You slowed your pace and tilted his face up to see yours.

“Be as loud as you want baby, we wanna hear you,” you assured him and he looked at you through half-lidded eyes, skin flushed and lips bitten. You felt his cock twitch inside of you.

Pulling you back towards him so you were flesh to flesh, his hips snapped up into you with renewed vigour as his lips found your neck. Right next to another small mark Loba had left not a few moments earlier, he tentatively suckled on your skin until it bloomed. He swore he wasn’t a jealous person, he just wanted things to be even. His lips slowly trailed down towards your chest until he found one of your breasts, ready and waiting for him.

You let your head fall back. His consistent pumping up into you, filling you over and over and his tongue on your nipple combined with the knowledge that Loba was watching and enjoying all of this was quickly becoming too much for you to handle. You felt his cock twitch within you again.

You cupped his face in your hands as you brought him away from your nipple to press his swollen lips to yours again. That was when he reached between you and let his fingers trail over you clit. A cry escaped you. You were reaching the point of overstimulation and it felt like heaven.

When his thrusts became distractingly fast, you had to leave his lips but still held his face in your hands. “Come for me baby,” you told him and he felt his mind going numb. A few more thrusts and he was spent, all low moans and mumbles as he buried his face in your chest. His warm release within you felt so good, coating your walls and making you feel so wonderfully full. The coil in your stomach was wound, near the point of breaking now, but it wasn’t enough for you to reach your peak.

You just held each other for a few moments, petting over his hair as you relaxed in his arms. Even though you hadn’t come a second time that didn’t matter all that much when he still managed to make you feel as good as he did. When he caught his breath he looked up at you and frowned, “You didn’t-“

Loba was quick to interrupt him. She was up from her chair and walking towards you the moment you had regulated your breathing, “I’ll take care of that, pretty boy. Go take a minute.” With one last kiss and a groan as he pulled out of you, he reluctantly lifted you off his lap and sat you gently on your bed. He usually held you for hours after sex so this was new for him but just as he was learning to trust, he was also learning to compromise.

Loba bent down beside you as Crypto got up from your bed, tilting your chin upwards with her fingertip. “Ooh what a mess he made, hmm? Guess I had better help you clean up.” You were already oh so sensitive but your release was building again, all worked up from Crypto’s cock but surely going to be finished by Loba’s fingers.

Her touch was so different to Crypto’s, so delicate yet precise. She Plucked your body as if you were a harp, and she was a harpist with the most experienced hands. Her hands trailed over your shoulders and your chest, a nipple pinched and pressed deliciously between her fingers. With a few strange movements of your legs, Loba manoeuvres you by your hips, weaving your legs together. She draws her fingers up the underside of your thigh then down your lower leg, teasingly with a wicked grin plastered across her face as she does.

Loba scoots you closer together, her hands exploring your thighs as she goes, until you’re so close to her that you can feel the heat of her pussy against your own. She pulls you in for a kiss again and you take a handful of her full breasts. Loba rocks forward suddenly, rubbing your dripping cores together. She was most definitely keeping herself busy whilst you were with Crypto because she was soaking. Your pussy was so sensitive, so worked-up again that even the slightest touch had you reeling. Another slow grind and Loba’s eyes flutter closed. A twist of your thighs and you were fully locked together, her core providing yours with a delicious pressure. With a groan, Loba favoured a rougher rolling motion, her nails clawing at your thighs as your clits rub together.

“Shit!” Loba cries and her hips jerk into yours more sloppily. It was rare to see her so needy. The pressure from her clit on yours and the way her face contorted in pure pleasure had your insides twisting until you felt the dam burst for the second time that night. You found her lips again as you felt her too reach her release soon after, panting between kisses and cursing. Her movements slowed, as did your own until you were faced with the task of untangling from one another. “Guess we were pretty worked up, huh?” She asks and you nod in agreement, “You still have another round left in you? Pizza guy won’t be here for another twenty minutes…”

You were exhausted, dripping wet and still trying to catch your breath but you still managed to stifle out another “Yes, please.” You couldn’t get enough of them and you were dying to have them both at once. You felt more than just lust for these two. They made you feel loved, feel safe. All three of you had issues with connecting to people, whether it was simple distrust or even trauma but you were lucky enough to find one another. All the time spent with them trying to take down the Syndicate made Loba and Crypto learn to trust other people again. Not only that, they learned to care for you and in-turn allowed you to care for them. And being cared for wasn’t something either of them imagined would happen any time soon. Your tenderness and love made them feel human again like they were more than just their past.

“What do you think? Up for round three?” You looked to Taejoon and saw him sitting where Loba had been. When he moved one of his hands away from his lap to smooth his hair back from his face, you saw his cock was already erect again.

His chest heaved. “Are you sure you can take any more,애인(lover)?” Sitting up on your elbows now you looked at him and then to Loba who lay beside you, trailing her smooth fingertips up and down your arms. Excitement bubbled within you again.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

They were both beside you in an instant. You weren’t sure who was touching where and frankly you couldn’t care less. Feeling both their bodies on yours at once felt amazing, your skin tingling all over as you knelt sandwiched between them. Despite your oversensitivity, you welcomed the metallic fingertips that found your folds again. You were so, helplessly wet. Your multiple releases, coupled with Loba and Crypto’s had your thighs and sheets a mess. The cold metal of Crypto’s fingers were a wonderful contrast to the warmth of your pussy as he trailed along, up and down your lips, purposely avoiding where you wanted him to touch.

He left your lips in favour of hooking a finger inside you again. The friction was welcome but it wasn’t enough. “Please!” You whimpered and you heard Loba chuckle.

“Oh, baby girl, are you eager for his cock again? It’s a shame we aren’t at my place, you could’ve had mine as well.” Crypto raised a brow at that. You just whined at the thought of Loba’s strap.

He hummed as he found your clit with his thumb as he continued to draw his finger in and out of you. “Crypto, please!”

“I think you should tell him what you want him to do, sweetheart.”

“Please fuck me. I-I need-” You cut yourself off with a moan of his name and Crypto thought he might just die. He leant down to kiss your lips, rougher than usual now but still gentle. When he pulled back from you and gave you a chance to lay back, he had his dick in his hand and took his sweet time coating the tip in your juices, slowly dragging it through your folds.

“Ready for me?” he asked and you nodded. He tugged your knees around his hips and he leant between your legs and slowly entered you, inch by inch until you felt that wonderful fullness again. He let out a shaky breath and a gasp as he entered you. You felt so warm, so soft and so unmistakably you that he had a hard time moving for a moment for fear he might lose composure too soon and leave you disappointed for a second time. When you gave him the okay to move, Loba began teasing your breasts again, but you had other ideas for her.

“Sit-” A particularly drawn-out thrust from Crypto had your words misforming, “-On my face?” you asked her. Seeing as how Loba hadn’t garnered all that much from tonight’s proceedings, you were eager to make her feel good.

Her lips twisted into a smirk as she drew back from your chest, “Oh, sweetheart, I thought you’d never ask.” Crypto slowed his movements to let you two get comfortable. Loba now knelt beside your head, swung one leg over your head as you lay flat upon the bed so she now kneeled directly above you. It was the perfect access point. None of the pressure was on you, only what you wanted there to be.

Pulling her down by the hips until her core ghosted so close to your lips that your exhale made her shiver, you made sure you had a good enough grip on her even if all her weight was on your mattress. Crypto took Loba’s chin aiming for the heavens as his queue that you were comfortable again and started back at a slow pace. He always liked to alternate between almost teasingly slow, slow enough that you got needy when he pulled fully out of you, before you the exact pace that you needed from him.

Loba tried not to grind against your face but your actions did nothing to deter her from it. She was extremely responsive to any stimulation she received and your tongue was right up there as one of her favourite ways to be pleasured. Your strokes were careful, teasing and just how she liked it. Although your body jerked forward with each thrust from Crypto, Loba didn’t seem to mind and simply rocked her hips along your face in time with his movements. Each time he pulled back out of you only to fully sheath himself inside you again, a small gasp or moan escaped you. The vibrations just made Loba’s experience even better, small rhythmic cries falling from her lips.

When you felt Crypto’s fingers on your mound again, you had to lift Loba off you slightly to breathe. He always knew exactly where and how to touch you and even though you couldn’t see him, you could hear his soft laugh at the sound you made when he circled your clit. The feeling of being filled over and over by his thick member was divine in and of itself, his girth allowed him to rub your walls with ease especially at the angle he had you in now. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he kept your lower half-raised slightly off the bed. But combined with his hands? It was difficult to concentrate on anything but.

The more you got distracted by Crypto, the needier Loba became, jerking her hips in tiny thrusts to enable some kind of friction. Your fingers dimpled the backs of her thighs to keep her in place as you tried to make up for your few distracted moments. She was getting close now, you could feel it. The poor woman wasn’t used to actually being on the receiving end of such things until she met you.

“I think I’m going to come,” Crypto said with a sharp intake of breath, followed by a barely spoken curse.

“Me too.” She whined, “Pick up the pace, Hacker.” She leant back on her heels to the point where she was nearly sitting on your chest now, a hand in your hair and the other keeping herself steady. Unable to tear her eyes away from your face as you worked on her, an intense ripple of pleasure rushed through her when your eyes met hers. As you tugged her clit back between your lips and sucked all whilst flicking it with your tongue over and over, she was done for. Her head dropped back and her hands now gripped your head with all her desperate strength as she cried a far louder noise than you had ever heard from her before. Her release fell from her entrance right onto your wait tongue, making sure to keep up the intensity until you felt her body relax within your arms.

“Shit!” Crypto cursed and you felt his cock again twitch within you as Loba rolled off to your side, “Are you close?” He asked, voice strained and breathless.

“Yes!” Now that Loba was off of you, you were free to reach forward and cling to him, nails digging into the back of his shoulders and dragging him back down onto the bed with you. With the new angle, his cock hit right where you needed it, the tip brushing over your g-spot over and over as his hand continued to work on your clit. You were almost there now, he could feel it. You felt so good, clenching and releasing around him as a new rush of moisture left you. Loba decided at that moment that sucking one of your nipples into her mouth was a good idea. Suffice to say: It was and it very nearly finished you off. You looked up at them above you, their focus solely on you as they worked and shaped your flesh to bring you the most pleasure they could.

It was only when Crypto leaned in to kiss you that you finally came for the third time that night. Neither he nor Loba ceased their efforts until your orgasm fully ceased. Wave upon wave of glorious pleasure washed over you. Your release was enough for Crypto to come again too, his face buried in your neck as he whimpered. Your oversensitive walls welcomed the sensation of him filling you again.

Loba collapsed at your side and Crypto basically flattened out on top of you before realising that maybe wasn’t the best idea and rolling off of you. Their hands were still on you. Gentle, loving caresses as you caught your breath and fully came down from your high. Your skin still pleasantly tingled from their touch, small shivers still coursing through from your orgasm. All three of you were spent and thoroughly satisfied.

Your muscles still felt soft but you knew you would be sore in the morning. All you wanted to do right now was to lay with them. Feel their arms around you and them in yours. Have Loba hold you from behind whilst Crypto buried his face in your shoulder and clung to you like a Koala bear. You just wanted to drift off in their arms.

But then the doorbell decided it was going to ring.

Crypto moved to get it but Loba stopped him. “No no no, you go to the bathroom. I’ll get it.” Before pulling Crypto’s shirt over her head again and attempting to fix her hair, she covered you with your sheets, a wad of cash in her hand ready for the delivery driver. She looked adorable in such a long t-shirt, so long it came to her mid-thighs. A plain black t-shirt with no shape and clearly sex-tousled hair yet she still looked like she belonged in a magazine.

“Pizza’s finally here!” She exclaimed, kicking the door shut behind her, a large flat box in her hand. Her other hand was empty and the massive bundle of cash was nowhere to be found.

“How much was the pizza, Loba?”

She shrugged as she set the box down atop your covers, “No idea, you know I like to tip big!” Crypto returned from the bathroom, wearing only his pair of sweatpants you had given Loba earlier, “Off you go, your turn.” She nodded towards the bathroom. She was very responsible when it came to after sex. As much as you wanted to sleep afterwards, she was always adamant you go clean yourself up first. It was one of her rare ways of showing how much she cared.

When you were finished, you toddled out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, feeling decidedly underdressed before Taejoon noticed you rummaging for something comfortable and tossed you the very shirt he was wearing that day, with a smile. That left none for him but he didn’t seem to mind. As you pulled the fabric over your head, you couldn’t help but inhale his scent that lingered.

The three of you sat on your bed in relative silence, eating the lukewarm pizza until your hunger ceased. For once, Crypto was the first to interrupt the silence when he left the bed to check up on the decryption status, “Another nine hours until the decryption is complete”.

Loba yawned, both from tiredness and at the thought of waiting nine hours for anything, “Well, in that case, we had better get comfortable.” She took the empty pizza box from your bed and discarded it by your desk.

After gathering up all the courage your tired brain could muster, “So… what do you say you guys both sleep here tonight?” You asked. Crypto was already stretched out at your back, his arms wrapping around you and his warmth seeping into you when he said, “No, I think we should awkwardly go back to our own rooms and talk in the morning.” You scoffed, knowing he was joking, he took every given opportunity to have you in his arms.

Loba stood at the edge of your bed like she was actually considering what he said to be something other than sarcasm. She rarely stayed with you after sex. Even in her own apartment, she would place a kiss on your temple then leave no doubt to pull some kind of heist. It was almost like she was afraid to get too attached to you like someone might take her from you as well as everyone else she had ever loved. But now, as she looked at you, your eyes all soft all and pleading, she thought back to only a few hours ago in the medbay when you fretted over Crypto and had told her you would do the same for her. She realised she could more than just meaningless material things and vengeance. She finally felt like she deserved more.

She sighed, “Well, alright. Not like I’m doing anything else tonight.” And so she clambered beneath the covers and into your open arms. “Have we done enough to satisfy?” She asked and you couldn’t help but laugh. Your legs were already beginning to ache and your entire body felt like each nerve ending and been caressed.

“Just being able to spend time with you both is already enough,” Her hand came to cup your cheek, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. You felt Crypto place a kiss on the top of your head as he allowed himself to relax a little more, his body near-painted onto the back of yours, “But yes, thoroughly. You’re both so wonderful that I never really thought to stop and wonder what it would be like to have you together and it was better than I ever could have hoped for. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“Oh sweetheart, you do so much more for us than we could ever hope to repay.” She pecked your check.

“More than we deserve.”

“That’s not true, Ta-” you cut yourself off, “That’s not true. You shouldn’t have to worry about the Syndicate or Revenant trying to take you out every ten minutes. You deserve to be happy and safe a-and loved. As long as I’m around, I’ll do my best to make sure you feel that way. Because I know that’s not something neither of you have had in a very long time.”

Taejoon tightened his arms around you, holding you closer to his chest. He placed one hand over yours as you rested it on Loba’s side, his fingers interlocking with yours. That meant so much more to him than he would ever let on in front of Loba. Meanwhile, you could see the water pooling in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you so endearingly. She brought her lips to yours for a moment, in the softest kiss you’d ever felt from her before she nuzzled her nose into your cheek.

Sandwiched between them in a mess of warm and tangled limbs, you felt safe and for once,  they did too. Loba was the first to drift off to sleep, her grip on you going lax as her breath evened. You felt Crypto shift behind you slightly, his arm beneath you no doubt beginning to go numb.

“It’s alright, you can rest. We’ll still be here when you wake up.” He whispered, voice as soft as he could make it.

And so you did. With Loba sound asleep in your arms and Taejoon wrapping you up in his, you let your tired limbs melt into the soft mattress below and your heavy eyelids close for the night.

Tagging (Thank you for liking/ rbing that post to be tagged :D ): @kumiakum @dragon-chica @lonelyintheclub @wintergirlsoilder2 @itsthedoctah10 @quinn-lee @askloba @julestheengineer1 @smolminimonnie @peachymochimochi @korean-crypted-trash @speakinjapanese @lilacburned​  @bring-me-the-videogames​ (If you’d like to be untagged, please let me know!)

[patrick-hockstutter]

Modern!Bowers Gang:

Patrick:

Really into cinematography and photography of the unsettling

Never captions his Instagram posts

Goes live on Instagram a lot, even though people really wished he wouldn’t

Makes art out of dead animals or animal bones he finds

Think Banksy, but with roadkill

He’ll take some (somehow) tasteful photos of them, post them, then leave the scene there for some unexpecting bystander to find

Has a nosering (fight me)

Never uses incognito mode

If someone happens to stumble upon his search history, he’s not paying their therapy bill

He likes reading smut more than he likes watching porn

A ps4 guy

Loves spooky games like Resident Evil, Silent Hill, Until Dawn and Death Stranding

He’s not really into school, but he surprisingly reads a lot when he’s alone in his room

Only about things he likes though

Abnormal psych, criminal psych, and sometimes some zoology (u kno y)

Watches serial killer documentaries like he’s paid to

Listens to grunge, nu metal, and 80s alt

Won’t admit it, but sometimes listens to Joji

He’s not super into emo music, but he’s the only one who will listen to it with Victor (he fckn vibes to Brand New)

Ironically uses a Zune

Has an Android but lowkey wishes he had an iPhone

Doesn��t have a computer, just jailbreaks/hacks the school issued laptop

Has a black line tattooed around some of his fingers, one of his wrists, and the shell of his ear

Has a foot tattoo

Has a fucking Juul

Watches LeafyIsHere on YouTube (tell me I’m wrong)

Spends too much time on Reddit

Wears flannels, skinny jeans, and Vans (a beanie if he’s cold)

Mostly cycles through the same three or four outfits

Wears the same pair of Vans every single day

Victor:

Big into aromatherapy

He uses lavender soaps and has an essential oil diffuser in his room

Uses incognito mode to watch Vampire Diaries

A Nintendo ass b i t c h

He has the gray Switch Lite

He brings his Switch with him everywhere (yes he’s that guy)

But what else are you gonna do when you wanna ignore Patrick?

Watches conspiracy theories about ghosts, cryptids, and aliens

Also big into podcasts (mostly true crime and conspiracy ones)

He listens to them on his headphones while he takes walks or draws

Posts his drawings on Tumblr

Does art streams on Twitch when he gets really bored

Has an eyebrow piercing (but it’s a small stud one, not a ring)

Has little tattoos on his hands

Wears bomber jackets, skinny jeans, joggers, army jackets, converse, and combat boots

The boy has style okay

Had an emo phase but still listens to the music (especially Tiny Moving Parts)

The emo phase was pretty short because Henry made fun of him so much

He just fucking liked MCR and Taking Back Sunday a lot, okay?

And Pierce The Veil and Sleeping With Sirens, but he doesn’t readily admit that

Now mostly listens to new wave, synth pop, and lofi hiphop

His favorite bands are Drab Majesty and Choir Boy (look up their new album btw)

Has a black iPhone and a space gray MacBook Pro

Uses Apple Music

Vapes, but only fruity flavors

Watches BoJack Horseman

Doesn’t really eat fast food but never passes up an M&M McFlurry

Paints his (and Patrick’s) nails black

One time Patrick caught him doing a facemask, so Patrick put one on and started chasing him around screaming as a joke

Cue: hmm… this feels kinda good tho

So now Victor and Patrick have secret mini spa days

Drives a Subaru

Belch:

Makes Spotify playlists like he’s paid to

He’s just really good at putting songs together

He tried to get into music theory, but he wasn’t one for actually making his own songs

Really into metal (obvi) but also likes some classic rock and punk stuff

Has records hung up side by side all around his room where the wall meets the ceiling

Still buys CDs

His Instagram feed is full of vintage cars and custom import cars

Fast and Furious is his favorite movie series

His favorite shows are Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead

But he also loves early 2000s comedies

Has a mini projector to watch movies on his room wall

Wears band tees, flannels, jean jackets, Carhartt stuff, d a d  h a t s

Really wants a tattoo but always gets nervous

Uses incognito mode to watch porn and buy some of his band tees from Hot Topic

Only one in the gang that uses Facebook (Mama Huggins made him so he could keep in contact with family)

Follows a few meme pages but also some cooking ones so he can send his mom any cool recipes he finds

Victor lowkey makes fun of him for actually using the Facebook page

Invests money in really good headphones and car speakers

Has a black iPhone

It’s always at 20% battery cause it’s always connected to his headphones, Bluetooth speaker, or car stereo

Him and Victor FaceTime when they’re bored

Sometimes they won’t even say much, they just like the over the phone company

Doesn’t smoke, but sometimes hits Vic’s vape

A social vaper if you will

Watches Idubbbz and Filthy Frank on YouTube

His favorite fast food place is Wendy’s

Not really into video games but fucking slays at Guitar Hero

And when Rock Band came out nobody saw him for like two weeks

Has a black Hydroflask with band stickers on it

Henry:

He plays a lot of Xbox

Mostly Halo, COD, Destiny, any first-person shooter really

Baits people on Xbox Live cause he thinks it’s hilarious

He’s also a fucking cyberbully but we all expected that

Has Victor’s old iPhone

Never fucking charges it

He’ll text you back in 3-5 business days (if at all)

And if you try to call him he’ll block your number

Plays iMessage games like cup pong and 8 ball with Belch

The only social media he uses is Snapchat and Tinder to look at girls

In one of his Tinder photos he’s holding a fish (srrynotsrry)

Doesn’t really listen to too much music

He doesn’t dislike music, just usually prefers to do things in silence

His mind is chaotic enough, he doesn’t need background noise

But he will listen to Cigarettes After Sex and TV Girl on a really low volume when he goes to sleep

Uses incognito mode to pick and choose random soft or angsty songs that he likes to put into a bedtime playlist

Otherwise just listens to whatever Belch listens to

Has a tattoo on his wrist

Takes a lot of drives into the countryside/national forests/mountains with Belch

Takes a lot of scenery photos, but never posts them anywhere or shows anyone except Victor

Still smokes cigarettes (he thinks vaping is douchey)

Watches South Park and American Dad

If he’s willing to spend money to go see a movie, he’s going to an IMAX theater

Sometimes he likes 3D, but most of the time it just hurts his eyes after a while

Longboards everywhere

Needs prescription glasses but refuses to wear them

They’re mostly for reading, which he doesn’t do anyway

But he does listen to audiobooks sometimes

Likes Frappuccinos but will kill you before you find out

He orders them through Uber Eats under a fake name so nobody will find out

BONUS: all four!

Victor still has his childhood GameCube that they play Mario Party, Mario Kart, and Melee on

Henry is banned from playing Mario Party after breaking a controller while beating Patrick with it

Patrick only ever picks Waluigi in Mario Kart and everyone is sick of it

When they play Rock Band Patrick is on bass, Henry plays guitar, Belch absolutely slays the drums, and Vicky boy sings his lil heart out

One night a week they order a shit ton of Dominos and make a drinking game out of watching Vine compilations

Victor does everyone’s birth charts

They collectively made a fake Tinder account on Patrick’s phone and catfish guys with it

They all try to one up each other doing vape tricks yikes

They buy bags of chips and candy from Costco and lounge around eating them on weekends

They’re banned from the city metro busses because Belch’s car was in the shop for a week and that week was hell for every bus driver in the city

[saintheartwing]

Breaking Dawn, Pt. 2: Rage of the Forgotten Ones

Author's Note:

Regrettably, this time, I'm not accepting OCs for the story. Though you may spy a cameo here and there for certain...persons. ;)

Anyhow, on with the tale! And feel free to tell me what you like and dislike about it. :D

BREAKING DAWN, PART TWO RAGE OF THE FORGOTTEN ONES

If you're reading this, then again...thanks. I'm glad somebody bothered to check out my blog. I'm surprised you're checking it now, though. Shouldn't you be more concerned with the fact that hundreds of planet Earths are floating around in the sky above, defying all physics? Even the average ignorant idiot can tell: something is seriously wrong.

And I know you want to know how this happened. Maybe you heard about me. Remembered I was the "crazy kid" for a long time, that I had all of these "insane" theories about aliens and the supernatural, and now that this is happening, well, you turn to me for answers. I've got answers, alright...I've got answers.

It all ties back...to him. To an alien named Zim.

His species is called the Irken race. They're like reptile-esque bugs. Their bodies are organic shells, their REAL selves are attached to their backs in robotic backpacks called "PAKS'. They're generally proud, vain, narcissistic, selfish, dangerous, in a word...evil. I knew from the moment Zim entered my classroom in his pathetic disguise that fooled everyone but me that he was bad news, I swore to expose him.

But something happened over the years. Zim and I began to...

Well...

...I can't call it friendship. I really can't. It's like...we were rivals. And we always wanted to stay that way. To outdo each other. It was a "same time next week" kind of deal we had: he'd try to make some world-enslaving or world-destroying plot...I'd stop him. It was a great game we played. And I think we began to develop...well...a kind of respect...a kind of trust. We kinda mellowed, in a sense. Heck, we even applied to the same colleges. I guess that my life fell into a rhythm I intended to ride for the rest of my life.

...but before all that happened, there was...a period that I think back on with shame. It was kind of like the turning point. When we looked back on what we did, something changed in us. I think we kinda were forced to change.

See...I wasn't the only one who knew Zim was an alien. My sister knew, but she didn't really care much. Zim had another Irken living at his home, named Skoodge, but Skoodge wasn't really too much of a threat. He wasn't actually too bad, as far as Irkens went. But I did tell my classmate Gretchen about Zim, and I think she wanted to believe me.

And then there was Nick.

Nice kid from down south. Slightly annoying accent. Little bit dumb. Okay, maybe more than a little bit.

But friendly. Helpful. And Zim had experimented on him before. Made him REAAAALLY happy with this strange device he stuck in his head. Twice. I asked him for help, knowing he knew the truth.

I TRIED to train him. I really did. I tried to help him get smart and savvy the way I was. We planned...we calculated...a few missions went by, we did well.

He wasn't my friend, but...but he was a good comrade. Yes...a comrade. And that day, on March 23rd, six years ago...Zim did the worst thing he'd ever done.

And he did it to Nick.

...I own that. Because he was my soldier. My comrade.

...my fault.

I don't know if he...remembers it all. I kept wondering "Was he afraid? Was he begging for me to save him in his head? Was he crying all the while as Zim..."

Now I know how he felt. I'm feeling that way too. Because someone showed up at our front door. They forced a very dangerous, very powerful ring on me. A ring that can turn the imagination into reality. Chosen for me because I can overcome great fear.

And yet...

All I want to do now...

Is SCREAM.

At first...it was a spiritual experience. Exhilarating. Almost transcendental. He felt invincible. He felt...like he could face anything. Anyone. Dib Membrane wasn't afraid of anything or anyone, and he knew, in that first few moments he KNEW he could have taken on the entire world and WON. For those first few moments...the ring upon his finger showed him a world just in front of his fingertips, a world of potential.

And then...then it was not HIS will that controlled the power. It felt like he was being tugged around by slimy strings, his flesh was not his own...he was lost in his own spirit...and he knew what was at fault.

"Get this thing OFF me!" Dib yelled out, yanking on the white ring on his finger as best he could, gasping as the Irken with the golden eyes looked on in pitiless amusement. Two sets of antennae, one teal, one black slightly raised in amusement with gloved hands and a blue vest across his chest, with dark blue pants and boots of black...black to match the gloves...black to match his heart. "GET IT OFF!"

"It's no use." The Irken with the golden eyes said, waving his hand in the air. "I was the first one to touch the Exemplar Ring you wear on your hand. It might be powered by your Will, it might think you're using it, but really...it's MY will that matters now. It might as well be on my hand. And you're going to do everything I tell you to do. You won't have a choice." The Irken said.

Dib's sister bellowed angrily, punching the ground below and seething, frothing at the mouth. Unlike Dib, who was dressed in a fine outfit of black and green, she was all red and black, with a form that looked vaguely machine-like in its design, a fury dripping off her facial features as the Irken snapped his fingers and she panted slightly, slowly calming down.

"You...fix us...NOW." Dib snarled angrily, summoning up all his willpower, leveling the ring on his finger squarely at the Irken. "You FREAK."

"The NAME...is Zerinim Two Jookiba." The Irken with two sets of antenneas said, putting one gloved hand on his chest before growling fervently, a burning red fiery blaze of energy forming in his hands, sizzling like he was holding a miniature sun in his palms. "But don't call me "Two" like my closest loved ones do. Call me...MASTER."

He immediately launched the wave of energy squarely at Dib and Gaz, knocking them to the ground, Gaz taking a blow to the head, unconsciousness settling in as Dib felt the thing's grip on him relaxing, and now the many sledgehammers he kept imagining should be beating into this thing actually manifested in a bright green glow, energy constructs that struck at Two over and over as Dib kept the manifestation up, intent on one thing and one thing alone...

MAKING...HIM...PAY.

"I'm gonna make you sorry you ever came to my planet!" Dib yelled out, stepping closer and closer to Two as the Irken held his gloved hands forth, a sonic blast of red construct energy knocking Dib back as Two snapped his fingers, a surge of power rising from his form as a bow popped into his gloved hands. Dib jumped back up, quickly firing off blasts of energy from his ring like a cowboy desperately firing his pistols at an oncoming posse, but Two calmly stood still, the blasts missing him as he notched an arrow of burning red.

It launched through the air, impaling Dib through his left side and he screeched in pain, falling to the ground as his grip on his body faded, and he swam in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay awake, Two chuckling coldly as he approached the human and his sister.

"Ahhhhh, I NEEDED that. I'm in a such good mood right now...now you go home and power down and get some rest. Dream peacefully...it'll be the last happy sleep you ever have, I'm afraid." The Irken said, kneeling by Dib and lifting his head with one claw. It wasn't a mocking tone...it just said it. A statement of fact. Nothing personal. "You've got a busy day tomorrow, after all." He added with a slight smile, clapping his hands as Dib and Gaz found themselves returning to their normal clothes, getting back up and returning inside the house of their own accord, the will of their master, the being named Two, echoing in their minds...

Mercifully, Dib could feel his wounds healing. But this was cold comfort. All Dib could think about...was what this thing was going to do the world he loved.

...

...

...

...as Dib rested in his bed, snuggling up beneath the covers, shivering slightly, he grit his teeth and grounded them together. He was mad. He was furious. He couldn't even fall asleep without feeling like that...that thingwith the double set of antennas was watching him. It had loosed it's control over them...just barely. It was allowing them to rest, but that was cold comfort considering Dib knew the thing would be up to no good.

What would it do to his world? What would it make himdo to his world? What would it make him do to the people he loved?

Simply trying to imagine talking to his father or anybody else about what had happened was giving him a headache...no doubt another part of that being, "Two", inflicting his will on him. What would happen if he actually tried to tell his father what had occurred, get him to simply analyze the ring that he was unable to take off? Would it be some "Battle Royale" kind of deal? Would a collar manifest around his neck and take his head off?

Gaz. What was Gaz thinking, Dib wondered as his eyelids slowly beginning to drop, genuine sleep mercifully setting in. Was she scared? Was she indignant about being used? Or was she just...angry?

Well, as it turned out, Gaz was none of those things. She had long since fallen deep asleep to dream of a world that shaped and shifted by her will, brought to life by a giant red pen, floating upon a rubber piggy and laughed giddily at the new world she was making. She liked seeing things in red...yes, yes, she wanted to paint everything in red...

She knew this power would help her do it. She was aware it was bringing out her most violent desires and attitudes. But she knew she could channel it. She just had to wait for her chance.

She could take control of this. She could prove stronger than the thing on her finger.

"That idiot thinks he has me. But I've beaten worse things before." Her dream-self said as she raised a chainsaw high, cutting through a swath of imaginary Twos. "AND YOU'LL FALL, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!"

...

...

...

..."Oh great. Two is here. Help me put my clothes back on."

"Why did you ask me to bring HER along? I could understand Lilo, but…"

"I want her to understand what we're…willing to do to break her. Lilo, do you know HOW the Minor Arcana was formed? How the…application process is undertaken?"

"..."

"Well, in exchange for very, VERY large amounts of power and the ability to remain eternally young…you've got to kill family. Close family. One member, to be precise."

"Samael approached me and told me that if I wanted into the Minor Arcana…if I wanted the ability to be immune to control and to control reality, I'd have to kill a family member."

"No, please tell me you didn't…didn't kill them…Kila, Zim, you…you didn't?"

"No, of course I couldn't, I…I love my parents. I…I chose Green, my sister from the past."

"If Kila and Zim ARE your parents, the ones I know so well, then they would have been horrified at the idea of you working for the person who made them suffer so much! They wouldn't have raised you to be so cruel!"

"They didn't raise me to be cruel, but we never could stay in one place long…do you know how some kids move around city after city, state after state, never really making friends, or worse, constantly leaving the friends they DO have? For me…it was TEN TIMES WORSE. I had to move from world to world and whenever we got REMOTELY settled into the hotel or other temporarily dwelling, we had to leave! Working for Samael meant he wouldn't hunt my parents anymore and…It's not like I know Green. She's my sister and I understand mentally that the whole thing is…sad."

"..."

"I OUGHT to know her. I should have spent my childhood with my big sister being there, we should have blown stuff up in the backyard together or played gorka-ball or "Toss the GIR"…we should have been siblings but…but we weren't. Aren't. It IS sad, but…I just don't really know her, and so I don't have many qualms about killing her, though MIYU had NO qualms in killing MALIK! And to get to her mother, she killed her dad too!"

"Azazel has yet to kill Nick, his dear, beloved Grandfather. So perhaps he'll kill his originator instead, he was so close to Nick, In his reality, his "Pee-Paw" was so PROUD of him…he even gave him his-"

"..."

"As for Frequency, lobotomizing Sari, whom he cared for greatly, was his act. Samael was happy to allow him to do the act, it allowed Miyu to replace Sari, who had refused to kill her parents and had taken Samael's gift of immortality. Such a pity…she would have gained Miyu's incomparable battle skills but instead she lost most of her brain."

"And now let us come to the point. You are not going to be rescued. You are going to be tortured here by us, one at a time, and when TWO finishes with you, I…will begin."

"Question: Who shall start?"

"I'll be the first...my power will be good for torturing you-"

With that, Dib awoke from the strange dream. It had felt real. FAR too real. And that person...Two. It had definitely been him. What was going on? Were Two's memories of the past somehow crisscrossing with his slave's head? Possible, he supposed. The Irken could control him from his head, but that meant his mind was open, at least when asleep, to Dib's own...

How strange...

"How odd..." Dib mumbled as he scratched his head, sweeping his legs out of his bed and onto the floor as he made his way to his bureau to get his usual attire out. Dark jacket? Check. Blue t-shirt with a "Meh" face on it? Check. Dark pants? Also check. Glasses...shoes...belt for said pants...check, check, check-

"...is the ring still on my finger?" Dib mumbled, looking down at his hand.

Check.

"...crap." He muttered. "You JERK." He growled, turning his head to look out the window at a cheerily grinning Two, who pushed the window open, letting in the sunshine to the dark blue walls of Dib's cluttered-up bedroom.

"Nice place, it really is...except for the smell." Two admitted as he looked around the bedroom. Indeed, over the years Dib had gotten slightly more advanced equipment from his father for birthday presents...yes, Birthday. Dib's father refused to celebrate Christmas due to his undying hatred of Santa Claus, so he always wasted that day searching for signs of Santa. And beating up Santa's Helpers in the street.

Yeah, it was weird.

A sophisticated computer system on a desk with what appeared to be three dozen drawers, many of them stuffed full of papers on Bigfeet, ghosts and aliens...a pile of laundry in the corner, all dark clothes, blue t-shirts...and several dozen paranormal posters littered the walls, including one of a flying saucer. And not just ANY flying saucer. "Is that from the X-Files series?" Two found himself asking, an intrigued expression coming to his features.

"Yes, the original one. I got it off of Ebay. Cost me two month's allowance too." Dib added, not taking his eyes off the alien scumbag. He wanted to jump through the air and do a karate kick to his head, hey, years of fighting with Zim meant he'd picked up a couple of tricks. But no, no, it was like he was rooted to the spot, and he knew EXACTLY why.

He tried to yank the ring off anew...hopeless. Two chuckled slightly as he snapped his fingers. "I used to watch the show when I was younger. Ahhhh, memories. Moving from dimension to dimension it's still nice to see that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Wait until I tell you about the second movie."

"Second movie?" Dib remarked, blinking stupidly.

"Oh, right, you don't know. Guess this world will never see it once I'm...well..." He chuckled coldly. "Once WE'RE finished. Go on, my little puppet. Eat breakfast. Say goodbye to your father with your sister. Then we begin, and I think I'll start by doing you a favor, and doing what all children dream of doing at one point or another...burning down your school."

"Why would you want to do that?" Dib growled angrily, fingers clenching almost like claws, eyes alit with fury. "What could you POSSIBLY gain from-"

"Do I look like a Bond Villain, my boy? I'm not TELLING you." The Irken chuckled. "But I'm in a good mood, so being the nice person I am, here's the deal. You get until Lunch Period's over. Then I'll take full control...and have you and your sister burn down the school and everyone and everything in it."

The Irken was suddenly up in Dib's face, smiling coldly, one hand gripping his chin, the other tapping Dib's ring. "You have until then to convince the others to get out, and don't bother trying to use your ring to convince them, I'll put it under a lock that won't open until it is finally time to BURN, baby, BURN." The Irken laughed. "Hey, you've been failing to get your classmates to listen for years. Maybe today's the day they'll finally listen!"

"You don't have to do this." Dib said, trying another tack, remembering the dream. Normally he wouldn't EVER negotiate with an alien, not even try, but...this was different. "You don't need to hurt anyone."

"But I do." Two whispered, raising his gloved claws up and clenching them. "...I DO."

Letting off cold-hearted laughter, the Irken jumped back out of the window, strolling off. Dib cursed under his breath. This was one of the few times an alien was out in the open! NO disguise! Why, WHY was nobody outside? Or LOOKING outside? What had their attention? Were they all still ASLEEP?

"So then he shot her, it was weird." The newest arrival on the "Okrah" show said to the titular host, Gaz munching on some cereal as the tall and weirdly surreal Prof. Membrane adjusted the goggles over his eyes, looking at the screen.

"This PULP is what the people are interested in?" He inquired.

"Yeeeeep." Gaz said nonchalantly through a mouthful of "Choco Frosted Sugar Bombs".

"And it's on every morning from 8 to 9? Without fail?"

"Yeeeeeeeeep."

"...what next, dancing panda bears?" Prof. Membrane mused sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he poured himself some coffee. He was getting better at this, he TRIED to be there during the day for breakfast if nothing else. And to think, it only took him a little over 10 years to actually start being somewhat of a good father figure.

"Mornin', Dad." Dib said, entering the kitchen and going to the fridge before shrinking away. Every time he tried to open the fridge, weird things happened. Last time he was SURE he'd heard a sneeze, and the mayonnaise had started yelling "The ketchup did it! The ketchup!" And ANOTHER time his father had left an experiment in there. Something had been living in the fridge.

"...is...the thing still in there?" Dib asked Prof. Membrane, inching away from the fridge and reaching for the knife drawer by the sink, pulling out a large carving knife as Gaz watched with interest.

"No, I'm fairly certain I moved him to the freezer." Prof. Membrane said, shaking his head back and forth. Smiling in relief, Dib wiped his brow and opened up the fridge...and was then forced to hack back several dozen tentacles before slamming the fridge shut. "Or maybe I forgot. Who keeps track?" Prof. Membrane added a moment later, putting a gloved finger to where his lip might have been...it was hard to tell, the white labcoat that he wore had a loooong collar that reached up high. You couldn't even see his nose!

"I'll just make some toast."

"SUPER-Toast?" Prof. Membrane asked expectantly.

"...er, I was thinking cinna-" Dib began to say, before he saw his father's slowly drooping expression. "SUPER-Cinnamon Toast." He quickly changed his mind, nodding enthusiastically.

"EXCELLENT choice, my son!" Prof. Membrane agreed, clapping Dib on the shoulder and moving to the cupboard to get the cinnamon sugar for his boy. "I can only spare 110 more seconds but I'd be HAPPY to get your cinnamon toast started!"

"...thanks, Dad." Dib said quietly. "I...I really appreciate it. And...appreciate you." He murmured.

"What will that thing make me do to the ones I love?"He thought sadly to himself, sitting in the chair next to Gaz as she quietly looked over at him, a faint flicker of genuine regret passing over her face for an instant.

...

...

...

...the Beautiful Angel clutched his mother's paw, looking down at her closed eyes. She looked so...worn and tired. So sad...so lost...so forgotten. She was a sad little doll that had been tossed into a closet to be forgotten about. She lay there in the ornately-draped bed inside of the crystalline palace that hovered high above the clouds, hidden from all sight not by ignorance on behalf of humanity, but by carefully-constructed machinations, creations of Zerinim Two, and of the robot that calmly watched, her face solemn before she turned her red-helmed head away from the sight of her beloved kneeling by his dying mother.

"C'mon...just a few more days, momma." He whispered, his golden/amber eyes gazing down upon his beloved mother. "...just a few more days and maybe we can end all of this...get our world back...and bring all of us back to normal."

"Is she...any better? Any worse?"

The Angel looked up. Zerinim Two's face was normally a window...behind his eyes you could tell he was barely suppressing a furious rage within. Now that window was cracked, but not showing rage...but deep, deep concern and sadness...

Personal loss...one of the greatest causes of rage in the world.

"No. And...and I've been talking with her and...she kept asking about the plan." The Angel went on, sighing as he stood up, brushing his thick slightly-light-brown locks of hair back. "You know that this base Earth is very...unstable. It's got the seeds of potential for all the other stories, but if this plan works, I'm worried what'll happen to the other-"

"Who GIVES a rat's ass?" Two snapped angrily, cutting his hand in the air to shut him up. "Azzy, these people are awful. AW-FUL. I might have been petty and selfish but when it came down to it, I ALWAYS put doing what was right for the ones I loved and for the world I loved at the forefront! Do you think ANY of the so-called "cornerstones" of this Base Earth would?"

"...I don't know." The Beautiful Angel admitted softly, honestly. "...I'd like to believe that some of them would."

"I'm sorry that "some of them" isn't enough." Two spoke quietly, folding his arms. "You know...I saw into Dib's mind when I controlled him. He has a family. He has a father. He has a sister. And his life's been slowly getting better for the past five years. Zim getting more considerate, Gaz becoming more tolerant, his father's actually eating BREAKFAST with them!"

That made the woman in the bed chuckle slightly. "Brekkie? N-no kiddin'? Ame kef, never thought he'd actually..." Her chuckling dissolved into pained coughs as she held her paw over her mouth and Two gently patted her forehead. "I'm...sorry I'm so friggin' useless now."

"It'll be alright, maneem." Two whimpered, kneeling by his mother and kissing her paw as a blue-furred being entered, Two rubbing his eyes as he left the room. The blue-furred being took off his cap, letting his hair fall down as he nervously chewed his lip, gazing at his aunt.

"...are we really gonna go through with this? I want the world back but..." He sighed. "...what he's making Dib do isn't...it isn't right."

"I want you to have this." The Beautiful Angel said, giving the blue-furred bounty hunter a pad of paper he had in a pack slung around his shoulder. "It's notes that mother took. I've read it five dozen times..." He trailed off, taking his mother's paw again.

The blue-furred being chewed his lip again, walking out of the room as he went to stand on a balcony, reading the journal as the robot stepped out on the balcony to join him.

"I shall be meeting with MY personal inductees today." She said in her emotionless tone, holding up the rings she would be using. "They shall join my Corps and I will then bring the two up here so that they may understand why we do what we do. I think he would go along with it anyway...a chance to destroy this world? Have "fun"? How could he say "no"?"

"Will you bother to tell him that once enough of this world's been destroyed by the Cornerstones, he'll get folded into the historical fabric?" The bounty hunter wanted to know.

"That's on a "need-to-know" basis." The robot said, a flicker of amusement passing over her metallic features as she sauntered back into the crystalline palace, leaving the bounty hunter alone on the balcony as he reached into his pocket, pulling out two small rings of his own. One was shining slightly, a chosen partner found, but the other...it's light was dull.

"...why isn't it lit up? What's it missing? WHO is it missing? I might have been the first to get ahold of these, but...can't do this alone..." He murmured, putting them back in his pocket, his paw going over the journal to his side, over an entry stained by teardrops.

...

...

...

...Dib nervously gripped his pants pockets as he looked out the window of the bus, sitting in the back with Gaz as she looked over at him. "Any ideas?" She asked sarcastically.

"...I thought about offering twenty bucks to everyone to leave school right after lunch...but my allowance isn't THAT high." Dib admitted, pulling out his wallet and opening it, a tiny moth fluttering out as Gaz rolled her eyes.

"And just TELLING them the truth won't help either, will it?" She asked. "They'd never believe you. Well, they might if you tried to use that thing in front of them, but-"

"It's not working." Dib mumbled, shaking his fist angrily, the ring uselessly dull. "I'm trying and trying...but he meant it...he shut it off. And after lunch, it turns on...and I turn into a living weapon. He'll drive me like I'm a BATTLEBOT."

Gaz looked around the bus, eyes narrowing darkly. "...Dib...what's wrong with this picture?" She asked quietly, dangerously.

Dib looked up from his lap, glancing around.

"Notice anything...missing?"

Suddenly it hit him. Zim. Skoodge. Gretchen. Nick. All four of them were gone. How strange...how very, very strange...

The bus came to a stop as everyone headed into the school, their new guidance counselor greeting the children at the door. He saw Dib's clearly sullen expression and his gentle green eyes softened. A hand reached out, placed squarely on Dib's right shoulder. "Dib, is something the matter?" Mr. Thildari inquired, one eyebrow raised high over a head with perfectly-combed grey hair.

"...nothing you could help with, sir." Dib told him as Gaz headed inside. "You've been more help than the last guidance counselor I had, but...you can't help me with this."

"Aww, why not try me?" Mr. Thildari asked, moving Dib inside and sitting him down at a bench by a water fountain. "First period bell doesn't ring for a whole seven..." He checked his watch. "...six whole minutes!"

"...I need to get everyone out of the school before lunch. And I mean EVERYONE. Even that creepy janitor." Dib told the guidance counselor, leaning back in the chair, Two's smirk lingering in his mind. "Or else something terrible is going to happen."

"Dib, did a friend of yours say they're going to blow up the school?" The guidance counselor wanted to know, his darkened skin paling slightly.

Dib's eyes went wide.

There it was...

...hope. Why hadn't he seen it before? It was such a simple solution.

"Yes, yes." Dib said fervently. "...except he's not really a friend, he...he said he was going to blow the whole school sky-high after lunch period, Mr. Thildari." Dib informed the guidance counselor, shaking him by his shoulders, back and forth, back and forth.

The guidance counselor looked deep into Dib's eyes, mouth becoming a taut line as if "reading" him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before closing his green eyes and letting out a soft, long sigh. "I believe you." He told Dib. "I'll inform the principal and vice principal about this, and I'll have everyone escorted out of the building until the police can search the grounds."

Dib inwardly cheered for joy as Mr. Thildari stood up and headed for the staff wing, punching the air as he headed off to class. He won. He'd WON.

Or at least...so he thought.

"I should have KNOWN you'd cheat." Two muttered furiously, sitting in a tree outside of school, his fists clenching tightly as red energy swirled off his body like sparks off a fire as his own ring swirled around him like a tiny fly, buzzing, buzzing.

"Calling in help like that, you great big cheater...well, you're about to find out that I'm just as petty and immature as you, Dib Membrane..." The Irken chuckled darkly. "I suppose the saying's true. If you want something done right..."

He hopped down from the tree, making his way towards the school as red energy seeped off his body, his footprints leaving behind burning indents within the ground as he chuckled coldly.

"You have to do it yourself."

[whitherliliesbloom]

all that glitters

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #26 (free) - heartfelt ]

[ alphinaud/illya ] ★ [ 2,105 words ]  ★ [ genshin impact au ]

one of several genshin impact aus i have where the scions of the seventh dawn are an international organization that recruits members from all around teyvat. mentions some canon genshin impact characters.

heartfelt - strongly felt sentiment and sincerity

on the first full moon of the lunar new year, liya has only a single selfish wish as she gazes up into the sea of lights.

Fontaine has ever been like a second home to Alphinaud - aside from the isle of Old Sharlayan and the nation of wisdom that was the endless fields of grassland in Sumeru. Whenever he looked out into the distant horizon where the vast blue of the ocean met the deep unknown that was the sky above and took a deep breath in to smell the salty undertones of the sea breeze intermingle with fresh silk and irises, he took comforting in knowing that he isn’t too far away from home - from the place where he grew up and spent his childhood in.

The same could not be said for his partner, who has opted to spend their rare free time during the evening sitting by the window sill of their inn room, head turned skyward as her eyes are fixed upon the sea of glittering lights and the full moon above, partially obscured by overhead clouds but not enough to hide it’s radiance. 

And as the anemo breeze blew in through the open window and carried her silken white hair into the air like a fluttering veil, the iridescent moon rays catching upon her head like an angelic halo, Alphinaud could only frown at the aura of melancholy and longing that practically oozed out of the girl’s beautiful, yet lonely visage as she sat counting stars in silence.

In her hands she held a single glaze lily, the glistening blue petals swaying lightly in the breeze as if in a tranquil dance. And though Illya has never been one to enjoy opening up her innermost feelings to the people around her, it doesn’t take the archons to know that the girl was thinking of home.

Alphinaud admittedly knows very little about Liyue’s customs and traditions - or, to his own shame, about the girl he’s often partnered together with as a travel companion who hailed from said harbor of stone and fortune. He’s tried multiple times in the past to educate himself, but in between being held up with errands after errands in the headquarters of the Scions in Mondstadt and taking lengthy, time-consuming and exhausting trips to the other nations of Teyvat for intelligence collection has left him with little to no free time as it is.

There was never much of a need for frequent visits to Liyue anyway, aside from it being the most convenient port to use to travel to and from other nation states... and of course, Fatui activity that frequently needed monitoring - but really what nation wasn’t being plagued by the Fatui? 

Liyue was self-governing, independent, the crown jewel of wealth and prosperity in all of Teyvat. There was very little that needed solving in Liyue, in comparison to the still ongoing, harsh Doctrine of the Vision Hunt decree still ongoing in Inazuma or the endlessly burning mountainous plains of fire that was Natlan.

And so he’s only ever had a handful of extended stays in the city of contracts, had little to no time at all to get to know the inhabitants of the nation, let alone befriend the people who were supposedly close with Illya - such as the little zombie girl who worked at Bubu pharmacy or the daughter of the Wanmin Restaurant owner, Xiangling. 

Save for one, however, an unlikely visitor who saw the two of them off only a week ago as they boarded a ship from Liyue’s port to Fontaine - a man of golden eyes and a sturdy built that perfectly encompasses the strength and resilience of geo and stone. 

The scions know him to be the geo archon, rex lapis or morax... but to the rest of the world, he is but a humble civilian named Zhongli. 

He’d bid the pair safe travels, and asked the girl in particular if she would return home in time for the Lantern Rite festival, which is only met by a saddened frown and a lengthy silence from her in return, which prompted the man to quickly apologize before turning to leave. 

Had it not been for Zhongli’s offhanded, innocent question, Alphinaud perhaps would have gone the entire trip not knowing what was causing Illya to feel so particularly moody - or worse, be completely ignorant to her state of mind in the first place.

He has heard of the Lantern Rite Festival and the brief summary of what it meant to Liyue and it’s inhabitants, but he knows not what it meant to Illya as a person or just how deeply the festival was sentimental to her - only that she refuses to speak of it and she’s rarely had the chance to participate ever since she became a member of the Scions. 

But he’s determined this time - if not to get the young woman who has closed off her heart for so long to open but, then to at least fill the void within her even just a little. If he could not bring her home to see the sea of lights and wishes, then he will bring just a tiny sliver of the stars here in Fontaine to her instead.

After days of procuring information from an array of sources that he needed - from linkshell calls back to Tataru pleading her to gather intelligence within Liyue, to secret trips past bedtime to consult tomes within libraries, he’s finally gathered all that he needed within a single big paper bag that he pulls out from the security of the inn cabinet, and carefully moves over to the window sill and lets out a soft hum so as to not startle the young woman.

“Illya..?” He calls her name, and when she fails to hear and respond, he opts to be bolder. 

“Liya.” He calls her by her Liyuen name, her birth name. A name that he knows reminds her of family and home, and the response is immediate.

Her shoulders stiffen, and she turns her head back to look up at the boy with widened, lavender violet eyes that twinkle as the stars do in the night, sheepishly tucking stray strands of her hair and her braid behind her short pointed ears.

“O-Oh... I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” she apologizes, bowing her head frantically until Alphinaud shakes his head and grabs the bedside chair over, dragging it next to the window sill and sitting himself beside her.

“It’s alright. You were quite lost in thought.” the boy reassures, and the girl visibly relaxes, tucking the glaze lily in her hand closer to her chest.

“D-did... did you need something from me?”

The smile upon his face is gentle, apologetic as he opens the paper bag on his lap, and pulls out a set of paper meshes, wooden sticks and wicks that instantly sends Illya’s eyelids flying upwards in surprise and knowing. 

“I know we’re not in Liyue... and by the time we return, the festival would be over but... I hoped to give you some way to participate even if you are not home. I’m aware that the materials aren’t exactly the same as the ones used in traditional xiao lanterns... and I could not even get my hands on a single plaustrite shard since we’re in Fontaine.. but-”

He jolts when he feels a warmth brush against his hand, looking down to see Illya’s hands gently clasping over his own, before taking a piece of wick and holding it up, inspecting it with an unreadable, troubled expression.

And yet her eyes glisten, she blinks back moisture from falling, quickly shaking her head to stop him from saying anymore before forcing a touched, sincere smile upon her face.

“Alphinaud... thank you.. That means a lot to me.”

A smile of relief graces his features, his navy blue eyes softening as he sets the emptied paper bag down beside him on the ground.

“Could you show me how to make a Xiao lantern? I’ve done my research on the basics, but I’m afraid it won’t compare to first hand experience.”

The night trickles by, minutes to hours passing them by slowly as they took their time and focused on the craft between their fingers, allowing the silence to fade into soft, idle chatter that soon broke out into melodic giggling from the girl as she recounts tales of home. 

She spoke of folklore, she spoke of cuisine, she spoke of even the very geography of the land she called home - her love for that place dripping palpably from ever word she spoke, and every light brush upon the petals of the glaze lily that rested upon her lap. 

And by the time they’ve finished their pair of lanterns, Alphinaud could only frown lightly at the result, the shoddy, basic materials that he had gathered not allowing for the intricate, detailed craftsmanship that was standard of real xiao lantern. Illya herself confirmed that a xiao lantern from Liyue was about ten times more beautiful.. and yet she gazed down at the ones in their hands with nothing but pure adoration swirling in her gentle eyes that would have nearly stolen Alphinaud’s breath away.

“We have to write our wishes on it now.” Illya states, as she is quick to uncap the marker in her hand before handing it to Alphinaud. “After we do that, the lantern will be complete and then we can release it into the sky.”

“That’s quite a unique tradition.” The boy states with a blink, taking the marker and staring blankly down at his lantern. “Is there a reason for that?”

“They say when you release your wishes written on a xiao lantern into the sky, the adepti will hear it and will make it come true.” Her response is soft, barely louder than a whisper as her gaze is stolen back by the starry night sky bathed in an unfamiliar blue hue that is a far cry from the warm golden glow of a sea of lights drifting into the wind... but not an unwelcomed sight, especially not with Alphinaud beside her. “It’s also a good way to honor the fallen - to remember the heroes who came before us and fought to make our dreams come true.”

Alphinaud knows not what the first full moon of the Lunar new year means to Illya on a personal level - only that it was near and dear to the very depths of her deep, painfully large and giving heart... and that more than anything else, he wished that she of all people would have all of her wishes come true. She deserves it more than anyone else in the world.

He knows what he wants to write on his lantern now, and quickly scribbles the words down upon the paper mesh before handing the marker over to Illya, who equally without hesitation writes down her wish onto her lantern.

“On the count of three, we’ll release it together, okay?” The girl turns to look at him, her hands gently clasped under her lantern as he does the same with his own, nodding in response with a gentle smile.

“Three... two... one.” 

In an endlessly dark sky with endlessly bright stars that shined like glitters above their heads, two flickering lanterns begin to drift through the wind and into the sky, carrying the heartfelt wishes of two likeminded souls into the air. They glow like gold, warm and radiant against the blue backdrop, and Illya pictures the sound of fireworks bursting in her ear. 

She can almost hear and smell it - smell the gunpowder, the freshly cooked Chopsuey and hear voices of her people echoing their awe into the night. And in her imagination, a large Mingxiao lantern gallops into the air, wild, pure and free as it led the sea of stars further and further towards Celestia. 

But even with the silence and the scent of Iris and seawater permeating through the air, the atmosphere is nothing short of sweet and beautiful - just like it always is at home with her family. 

“When we’re this far from Liyue.. I wonder if the adepti will hear our wishes.” Illya asks offhandedly, and she feels the warmth of Alphinaud’s hand fall gently upon her shoulders that she leans into.

“I’m certain they will.”

They spend the next several long moments just staring into the distant sky as their lanterns begin to drift out of sight, their respective wishes carved deep into their hearts and into the heavens long after the full moon has set and a new dawn arrives.

[ I wish Alphinaud eternal happiness ] [ I wish Illya eternal happiness ]

[readingat3amisnormal]

The heat was stifling, rough sand streaking across the dunes. Whirlwinds whorled in the distance, roving across the alien landscape. Against the mayhem of the pre-dawn desert, a man stood still and silent.

His hair, shaggy and unkempt from the long trek, billowed in the dry desert wind, as did his bell-bottom trousers and chic white jacket. Absently, his fingers began snapping. He whispered subconsciously, “a-dooba-doobie…”

As the sun finally broke the horizon, Elvis Presley was cowed into silence.

He stood at the peak of a sand dune, staring out at the gaping maw of the Sahara. Endless dunes, stretching as far as the eyes could see. This was it- the real deal.

The edge of his mouth curled into his characteristic smirk.

“Come now, Nenet!” he called gleefully. “We’re almost there!”

Nenet, a sprightly, athletic young woman who did not currently look it, crested the dune and collapsed onto the sand. She’d been guiding tourists across the Sahara for the better part of five years, and none had been quite as… ambitious as this strange, strange man.

Rather than go to any of the usual tourist destinations, he was insistent on travelling off the beaten path- and dragging her with him. She made sure that they were never more than half a day’s walk away from civilization at any time, though that was becoming increasingly difficult as they progressed further into the desert.

“What’s the plan for today?” she panted, placing her hands on her knees under the weight of their luggage.

“Well, sweetheart, we’re almost at where I wanna be!” he glanced down at the compass clutched in his hand. “That-a-ways!”

His white cowbody boots jived along the sand, a fine sheen of sweat clinging to him like so many overenthusiastic fans. The dust had been quite annoying the first couple of days, but he was used to it by now.

And hey, it was better than what he’d left behind.

He’d loved it once- the fame, the fortune, the drama. But lately… the magic had faded. He’d lost his drive.

Until one fateful day…

He strummed lazily on his guitar, staring off into the distance. His thumb caught on the D string with a painful twang that echoed all around the bustling city square. It was out of tune, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

So many people, going about their day. Some of them looked up at him, most didn’t. They’d grown used to him by now. He disliked it.

“Mr Presley, act your age and get down from there!”

He glanced down at the balding city official that was calling to him, and in a moment of fear touched the top of his head.

“Oh thank goodness…” he removed his fingers from his luscious curls, then went back to strumming. “You ain’t nuthin’ but a…”

“Mr Presley, you will get down from that lion this instant!” the official stamped his foot to punctuate his point.

Elvis groaned miserably. “Awwww…”

As the official tapped his foot against the ground, Elvis dropped down from the lion. The guitar was rudely snatched away, and he was instructed to go wait in the library until his lawyers arrived.

Ah, shoot.

He grooved miserably through the gilded doors and into the lobby, sincerely disappointed that this so-called ‘grand institution’ couldn’t even afford a concierge.

“Stupid government workers…” he muttered under his breath. Like clockwork, a receptionist raised a finger to their lips.

He growled in frustration and stomped over to one of the desks. Books of various shapes, sizes and colours were strewn across it, but one drew his eye- a gilded tome, with a strange cat-person doing a pose on the front.

He reached for it before he caught himself- he wasn’t some nerd! He was a rock ‘n roll cool kid! The only reason he was even in the library was to wait until the city official left the lion statue unsupervised.

Resolute, he turned his nose up and looked away.

Although…

With trepidation, as though he were defusing a bomb, he flipped the book open with one finger. It opened to a page with intricate illustrations and an unfairly fascinating title- The Search for Tutankhamun’s Tomb.

Well, one book couldn’t hurt. He reasoned.

Four hours later, with the sun going down and his next show in fifteen minutes, he stood before one of the receptionists with the book in hand.

“Now I ain’t got no bread on me right this second, miss.” He shuffled nervously. “Spent it all on some candy from this store a couple blocks down…”

“That’s alright, dearie!” She croaked, hand trembling as she accepted the book. “Why, you don’t need to pay for books at the library! You just need a library card, and I can get that for you just now! What’d you say your name was, young man?”

He jumped through all the hoops gracefully, accepted the card, the book, and a little golden star he’d gotten for being a good boy, and headed off with a smile on his face and nary a care in the world.

From there, it had been a simple matter of devouring every book on Egypt and Egyptology he could get his hands on. He’d gotten a new personal idol- Gertrude Bell- a new purpose- find Tutankhamun’s Tomb (or any tomb, for that matter)- and a new drive. He’d kept the white coat and bell-bottomed trousers, although he’d swapped out the guitar for a khaki hat.

Nothing would stop him now. Not even his dwindling finances, though the riches he would definitely find would help him along.

His experience in the field had been entirely academic until he’d bit the bullet, travelled out to Cairo, and hired Nenet to act as his guide and translator. She’d kept him sane when hunch after hunch had proven to be incorrect and had gotten them out of some sticky situations.

Now, three weeks into what was shaping up to be the greatest adventure of his lifetime, they were so close he could taste it.

“Mr. Elvis,” Nenet said, straining under the weight of their pack. “It is of course unwise to lick the walls of an ancient ruin.”

Elvis pulled away from the wall, smacking his lips. “Well, it isn’t bone, that’s for sure.”

“It’s sandstone, Mr. Elvis. I could’ve told you that.”

“Ah, but I’ve now learned it, Nenet! Groovy!”

Despite the weight on her shoulders, Nenet shrugged. “Whatever.”

After a couple more taste tests they ended up in a cul-de-sac of sorts. Walls rose around them, and stairs led down to an intimidating looking door.

With some trepidation, Nenet followed Elvis down the stairs. He stared at the door for a good half-minute, then snapped his fingers.

“I will have no locked cupboards in my life!” he proclaimed. “Gertrude Bell, unsourced.”

Nenet leaned against the wall to take some of the weight off her back. Unbeknownst to her, the pressure of her shoulder against one of the tiles caused a centuries-old mechanism to spring into action. Gears grinded, pulleys pulled, and the end result of this mechanical medley was that the door opened just as Elvis touched the tip of his tongue to it.

He paused, staring into the darkness. The air was cool but dusty, and smelled vaguely of death.

He turned back to Nenet with a smug smile on his face. “C’mon, snake, let’s rattle!”

And with that, he pranced joyfully into the underworld.

~

Nifty…

Elvis tapped a specialised tool against the hieroglyphics on the wall. They were mostly your standard fare- “death awaits those cretins who enter”, “do not desecrate this hallowed ground, wretched mortal”, “remember to feed the cats, honey, I know you always forget XO”- but this one was different.

“Don’t… dead… open… inside.” He read off. “Hmmm…”

He considered it, ignoring Nenet’s grunts as she tried to pull their bags through a narrow doorway.

“So,” he reasoned, “don’t die, and open whatever’s inside this door? Perfect!”

He pushed the door open and ran through, close to giggling with delight. Oh, this was so much fun! He really was an explorer!

“It's so nice to be a spoke in the wheel, one that helps to turn, not one that hinders!” he called out to Nenet. “Gertrude Bell, From the Mountains to the Sea!”

As his voice faded into the distance, Nenet finished pulling their bags through. If only the oaf hadn’t insisted on bringing a to-scale sundial!

With a frustrated groan, she turned to the doors, which were slowly swinging closed behind Elvis.

“Don’t open, dead inside.” She read.

She blinked.

“Hal-kuh. Mr. Elvis! Mr. Elvis, it’s dangerous!”

Damnit, the oaf was annoying but she couldn’t leave him to die! With a deep breath, she steeled herself, grabbed something from his pack, and ran after him.

~

The thing to realise about Elvis Presley’s Egyptology phase is that it was entirely inevitable. A life of screaming fans is really, really not all it’s hyped up to be.

When he’d started out performing, he could hardly bear it. Over the years, it had taken a toll- created a… sort of psychological switch in his head. 

So how would he react if, as he walked down a dusty passageway in the hopes of finding something exciting at the end, he heard Nenet screaming from behind him?

To put it simply, Elvis had a Pavlovian reaction.

To put it simpler, he was back in showman mode.

“Ooooh, sounds like somebody’s excited!” he boogied, sashaying his hips as he made his way towards the sound.

Nenet screamed again, louder this time.

“Somebody’s real excited, hoo boy! Hot diggity-dog, I can’t wait to see what’s causin’ this!”

Elvis swaggered around the corner, ready to put on a show for his fans, and happened upon a small nook with a sarcophagus propped up against the wall. It was shaking about, reminiscent of a fan that couldn’t keep still from excitement.

“Well, what do we have here!” he called out enthusiastically, unlatching the door of the sarcophagus and coming face to face with a mummy.

He really wasn’t equipped to deal with this sort of thing. Neither was the mummy, come to think of it. Point is- when faced with these extenuating circumstances, Elvis did the only thing he could think to do.

“Are ya a fan?” he asked.

The mummy screamed the scream of a thousand crows.

Elvis screamed with it.

Behind him, Nenet screamed once more. This time, Elvis recognised it for what it was- a battle cry- and moved out of the way.

She brought an ElvisTM Baseball Bat down upon the mummy’s head with so much force that it disintegrated into kindling. “Ah, shitty American products!”

Nenet dumped what was left of the bat onto the mummy, slammed the sarcophagus lid shut, grabbed Elvis by the wrist, and pulled him down the hallway.

“Hey!” he protested. “I brought that bat along for emotional support!”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” she responded, pausing at an intersection before pulling him roughly to the left. “We need to get out of here now- that thing won’t stop until it’s killed us both. I got the drop on it once- I doubt I’ll be that lucky again.”

“But-” before he could argue further, the screeching started again. The hallway felt like it stretched forever, and Elvis’ pulse quickened.

Nenet cast a panicked glance behind her. “It’s not slowing down. We’ll need to hold it off. When I get us back to our pack, take out that big sundial and throw it in its path, yes?”

Elvis, already out of breath, blinked.

“Now!” she flung him around a corner, and he found himself back in front of the door with the strange hieroglyphics.

After a second’s hesitation (and another scream from the mummy), his brain kicked in.

He scrambled to the pack, pulled the sundial out, and dragged it into the corridor. The mummy was about halfway down, running towards them at an alarming speed. Before it could scream, Elvis tossed the sundial like an Olympic Disk thrower.

It took both the mummy’s legs out, then shattered against the floor. Elvis winced- it had been pretty expensive. But then again, at least it had saved their lives.

The mummy got to its knees, screamed, and began crawling forwards.

“Ah.” Nenet’s face was unnaturally pale. “We’ll have to run again, Mr Elvis.”

Without waiting for confirmation, she turned. “And leave your pack behind!”

The mummy, moving considerably slower now, screamed once more. Elvis’ instincts kicked in again, but for once in his life he caught himself. He was an Egyptologist, for goodness sake! He needed to act like it!

He thought back to all the books on Egyptian explorers he’d read. All the mummies he’d seen in those new-fangled Universal Pictures. He recognised the scream, recognised the pain.

What would Gertrude Bell do? He wondered.

There is nothing more difficult to measure than the value of visible emotion, she’d say to him- as she had on page 42 of From the Mountains to the Sea.

As Nenet poked her head out from the doorway with the intention of demanding he hurry up, he moved towards the mummy.

“MR ELVIS- actually you know what, I tried.” Nenet shrugged, and made to leave.

“All these years…” Elvis realised, dropping to his knees and beckoning the mummy closer. “Trapped down here, all alone.”

The mummy hissed, holding its desiccated hands up to its eyes.

Nenet, who was ready to make a break for it any second now, watched in horror as her client ran a finger tenderly along the mummy’s jaw. “It’s alright.” he soothed.

With an awful, keening screech, the mummy threw itself into Elvis’ arms and did a decent approximation of a sob.

“There, there.” Elvis stroked the mummy’s head, rocking it back and forth. “We’re here for you now, aren’t we, Nenet?”

Nenet’s eyes widened as she realised what Elvis wanted her to do. “W-with all due respect, sir-”

“Group hug!” he growled merrily, reaching into the doorway and pulling her into an embrace alongside the mummy. After a moment’s hesitation, she patted the ancient creature on its head. “It’s… alright?” she asked.

It latched an arm around her and wept loudly.

~

They emerged from the tomb a trio- Nenet, carrying some assorted riches and other sundry, Elvis, and the mummy, being carried bridal style by the intrepid Egyptologist.

“I’m gonna take you back to the US of A!” Elvis promised the mummy. “And I’ll take ya to a baseball game and show ya that baseball bats ain’t all that bad! And you can tell me more about your culture and all! Don’t that sound fun?”

The mummy purred in approval. Nenet, who still hadn’t gotten over her client bonding with an eldritch horror from an ancient tomb, shaded her eyes against the setting sun. She had to admit, the ruby-encrusted bracelets really complemented her complexion.

“We will have to make camp tonight,” she said, “and by tomorrow I will get us to the nearest town. From there you can rent a jeep to get back to Cairo, Mr. Elvis. And company.”

Elvis nodded. “Miss Nenet, it’s been a pleasure working with ya so far. What’d ya say I take you on in a more… official capacity?”

Nenet wrinkled her nose. “Are you planning on adopting me?”

“Nah, I meant hire you as my guide for all future archaeological expeditions and the like!”

“Hmmm…” she considered it. “What’s your offer?”

He listed off a number. It had lots of zeroes.

“Done.”

The mummy stared out at the sunset… the first sunset it had seen in centuries. And for the first time in centuries… it felt at peace.

“To wake in that desert dawn was like waking in the heart of an opal. ... See the desert on a fine morning and die - if you can.” Elvis whispered reverentially, following the mummy’s gaze. “Gertrude Bell, The Desert and the Snow.”

Both Nenet and the mummy nodded. They stood there awhile, watching the sun dip below the horizon and inky shadows spread like water.

“Ya know…” Elvis mentioned. “I feel a song coming on.”

“Mr. Elvis, no.” Nenet deadpanned.

“Mr. Elvis, yes! Wiiiiise, meeeen, saaaaaaaaaaay… only fooooools…”