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batarella · 5 years ago

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The Commander Part 3 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

Thank you so much for all your support. You’ve given me everything I don’t deserve.

WORDS: 1597 WARNINGS: EVERYONE IN THE SMUT TRAIN, BATARELLA HAS WRITTEN A MASTURBATION SCENE (WHICH IS NEW) AND ALSO MORE JASON SMUT

MASTERLIST

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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“We have nine watchtowers in Miagani, eight in Founder’s and four in Bleake.”

Commander Y/N zoomed in on the map of Gotham. It was on a screen on the wall, and it was large enough for her three lieutenant commanders. Beckett had just been promoted that day, the newest one next to Lieutenant Commanders Gray and Whitman.

Lieutenant Gray tapped on the farthest corner on Miagani down south, near Elliot Memorial Hospital. Did he mean to place it on the hospital itself?

“I don’t know,” she said. “Do we need another one there?”

Gray shrugged.

“Our HQ is in Founder’s. We’ll have to place most of our forces nearby.”

“We only have four in Bleake.”

The commander went to the screen and zoomed in on the island. “GCPD is on that island. They can send more reinforcements, patrol the cities more frequently. We can ignore that.”

“Let’s take out the one in the hospital and place one more watchtower under Stagg’s airship.”

She agreed to that. Beckett went to the screen and placed a marker just below where the airship would be. “Is Stagg still supplying the Nimbus Tech?”

“Yes,” The Knight said. She’d forgotten he was there. He was behind the conference table, arms supporting his weight. The Commander turned to him, and beside her the Lieutenants.

“I don’t trust that man.”

“He thinks this is for profit. He shouldn’t be the one to trust us.”

The commander eyed the map, then at the files on the table. They were all about the Cloudburst. Its design, the weaponry. The blueprints made enough sense.

But it had all four of its coolant systems exposed, and it overheats faster than an oven.

“I think we’ve reached a decision,” she said to the Knight. “We have nine watchtowers in Founder’s.”

The Knight stood straight. “Meeting adjourned.”

The Commander and the Lieutenants saluted.

“Bring everyone in the combat grounds in ten minutes.”

“Yes sir,” Beckett said. The Lieutenants left.

The Knight crouched over with his hands on the table. Y/N looked over, making sense of his expressions even from behind his visor. He knew she was still by the doorway, watching over. He didn’t speak.

She left. Ten minutes after, she was at the combat grounds.

The commander stood straight. There were ten men behind her, their arms behind their backs. The others watched on from outside the arena. That day, she had on her full suit of armor, black pants and a thick black vest over her chest.

“The Batman isn’t going to kill you. He’ll leave you unconscious. The first thing to notice is his toys. He has the Batclaw, for starters. Its strong enough to carry a man.”

The Knight eyed the soldiers slowly. “I’ve developed a suit for some of you. A medic will assist you. It’s something so when anyone, even the Batman gets too close to you, any impact made on your armor will electrocute him, thus stunning him for a reasonable amount of time.”

A medic came in, carrying a stun device and a jacket thick enough to be bulletproof.

“I’d like a volunteer to wear this and spar with me. I’ll show you how to counter the Bat.”

“I will.”

She didn’t even give a chance to anyone willing to try. Commander Y/N stepped forward. “I’d like to give it its test run, sir.”

Y/N could hear the Knight growl under his visor. “Commander, you will not be on any of the command points.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “But I’d like to try it.”

She was teasing him. She could feel the blood running up his neck. The commander walked up to the medic and took the jacket from her.

As soon as she had it on, the medic stuck the stun device right below her chest. “Ready commander?”

“Yes.”

The device went off, and suddenly a flow of sparks travelled across her upper body, all the way down to the gloves on her hands. It didn’t affect her, but on her neck she felt a very faint burn. It worked.

The Knight watched on and she could hear him curse. Y/N smirked. “Stand your ground, commander.”

Everyone in the room had their eyes on the new suit. Y/N breathed in, then fisted her hands in front of her. The medic left and the Knight stood his fighting formation.

“Your lower body will be your weakness. Make sure he hits your chest.”

At a glance, the Knight pounces, aiming at the commander’s legs. She dodged his hit and rolled on the floor. The sparks suddenly disappeared.

“Again,” she said. The medic rushed in, gave her another charge, then left. She stretched her neck and returned to her form.

The Knight hit the same spot, but this time she caught his leg. It didn’t affect him, and instead, the shock travelled all the way up her arms. She winced, standing back. The voltage was no joke.

“Don’t touch the outside of the suit, yourself,” the Knight said loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Embarrassed, the commander stood. The medic was quick to give her another charge for the third try.

The Knight slowly walked. They circled each other at the center of the arena. He was taking his time. Y/N realized she hadn’t actually sparred with the Knight himself before. In fact, he never sparred with his men. He was always at the back, watching as she and her direct inferiors did the job.

His leg went flying again. His thighs were strong, and it went all the way up to her neck. She didn’t fight back, instead, she held her arms up to block his attack, and it worked.

The Knight’s body went flying across the floor, a string of smoke coming from his own leg. She heard clapping. Y/N had done it. The suit lost its voltage and she could run her own hands down the jacket. She wasn’t hurt. Yes.

But as she turned, there was a slight turn in the air. Silent. She quickly dodged to the right. The Knight punched through the air and Y/N sent her elbow flying where the Knight’s chest was exposed.

He flinched, and his leg hit the back of her knees. She struggled on the floor, rolling when he was about to kick her again. She dodged hit after hit, barely keeping up when his fists would graze the top of her head. She ducked at a direct hit, then kicked his chin.

Fuck, his visor hurt.

The Knight propped himself up his elbows, barely breathing. She could tell he was even holding back. Combat was never her forte.

“Think I’m the Bat. He’s not gonna stop after you’ve electrocuted him once.”

She nodded, then went up to the Knight and extended her hand. “How’d I do?”

“That was good. Needs practice,” he said. But he didn’t take her hand. He stood up then brushed off his chest.

“I’m handing one or two of these suits to every command point and watchtower.”

The commander placed her hands back behind her. “Commander, decide which men get these suits and have them properly trained. Don’t let them electrocute themselves.”

“Of course, sir.” The Knight nodded, then he dismissed himself from the room.

“Lieutenant,” she said to Whitman. She handed him the jacket. “Arrange a training session for tomorrow. I’ll give you a list on who to call.”

“Yes sir,” he said to her. The commander saluted them away and walked out not long after the Knight had left.

Y/N felt flustered, and she was sweating. Her blood was rushing through every vein. She needed him now, wanted his hands all over her. She walked down the halls without stopping until she reached her room and locked the door.

She couldn’t possibly go to his room. He’d just send her away. Her breaths were deep and she needed something to let this rush go away.

She sat on the side of her bed, the only other piece of furniture in her room other than her desk. It was small, and the only thing she can see everytime she turned to that desk was the third night they were together. The only night spent in her room other than his.

She let that memory happily pass through, lying on her back while her hand travelled down her stomach, reaching between her legs.

He had her against the wall. She was writhing, sweating. The Knight’s hands were on her bare breasts and kneading them softly, then harsh enough to draw gasps. His other hand played with the folds of her pussy, enjoying how wet she was. She moaned hard, feeling two of his fingers inside her.

They went in and out, lapping at her juices. She was so wet, they just slid in easily. The Knight went on, biting at her ear and whispering obscene things she’d always think about. His hands started pulling away, then he bent her over the desk, inserting his hard dick.

Her breasts on the cold surface, and her arms pinned behind her. The burn went on, on her skin, in her chest. It was everywhere. His hands were holding hers tight. She kept her moans quiet, breathed harder and clenched herself around him. She held off her cum. She needed more. She didn’t want to finish just yet. Y/N suddenly felt his strong hands on her neck, pulling her to arch up.

He kissed her hard, then she came, so much it was dripping on the floor.

Done. She zipped up her pants, grabbing her water bottle on the bedside.

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THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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Taglist: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki @everyday-imfangirling (tell me if you want in! I’d appreciate your support)

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soyouareandrewdobson · 5 years ago

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Alex ze Pirate Mini Review 2: Underappreciated and how Sam should deal with an abuser.

Last time I gave a general overview of how Sam is treated by his “friends”. Now I want to give a more specific example, that will also show how Dobson’s storytelling abilities are not really all that good, particularly when it comes to pacing or building up any sort of conflict.

You see, for the most part Alex ze Pirate is just a collection of stupid artwork (not even concept art, just random artwork Dobson makes of his characters dressed as something random) and one page strips with a stupid punchline, with Sam most of the time being the receiving punching bag.

There have however been a few individual, short stories over time. And when I say short stories, I mean short. As in 15 pages for a very cheap set up, a few jokes and a punchline. Those include stories such as All that Glitters (where everyone except Alex breaks into a fortress to steal something), The Wish Fish (the only halfway okay story of them all because it is just meant to be comedic) and Best Laid Plans. However, near the end of the initial run of AzP, Dobson did a three part story (partly) focused on Sam in that format, which started off with the chapter I want to talk in this post: “Underappreciated”.

As you can see, the chapter starts off following some basic rules of storytelling in comics. Two establishing panels for the location at which the story takes place initially and showing what Sam’s duties are. Nothing really bad yet. The only thing that sticks out being just the fact that a) Sam does not have his own bedroom and has to sleep in a useless outlook and b) he sleeps in his regular clothes. But hey, nothing to get upset about initially, perhaps he just prefers it like this at the moment. But with the next two pages…

The problems start to show. Page three establishing that Atea herself is just a cunt who can’t even have the basic decency of wishing her “friend” a good morning or giving him a thank you for bringing a morning beverage as she has other selfish priorities on her mind. Like wanting to lick the shower water of Alex’s skin.

Also, go fuck yourself Uncle Peggy. As in, get both your arms ripped off, shoved up your butthole with those hooks and then get hanged on those stomps like a chandelier. I wouldn’t even mind the fact here that Peggy left a mess, if the face he makes in the last panel was not obvious of the fact he left the bathroom like this on purpose and that he is rather happy of making Sam’s day extra miserable by the fecal matter he left behind. Combined with any previous strip of the comic showing that Peggy for no reason likes to get the boy in trouble and even wants to see him die, this just shows once more of how much of an asshole he is. If the last panel just showed him with a groogy hangover look, obviously unaware of how much discomfort he brings unintentionally to Sam, that would be one thing. But intentionally making Sam’s day miserable despite the obvious fact the boy is the first one to do anything around here, while making one of the worst drawn “HAHA, I am such a rascal faces” I have ever seen (and I have seen shitty anime en mass) makes me hate the character more than Dobson intented.

And then there is page 5…

And it is in my opinion the saddest page in the entire comic arc, even compared to the “heartbreaking” stuff Dobson wants to pull up in the last third of it. Because though it is meant as a joke, the general execution is too cruel, crossing into “dude, not funny” territory and showing just how little the crew cares for Sam. Talus, Sam’s “best friend” not even aware he is around, everyone stealing Sam’s food with that stupid “Yoink” sound (seriously, I wish the characters would get punched in the vaginas each time they make this sound in any of Dobson’s strips) and then leaving Sam behind with smug faces, ready to do whatever they want to do, while he, likely stinking of feces and not even having showered properly, has also to clean up after those pigs, who can’t even eat in a proper manner ( hey Atea, use a fork instead of holding the bowl) and silently. I mean, they are pretty much pigs when the noises they make are loud enough, they make the font of the writing change randomly into whatever Dobson has on his computer with every sound. Not to forget the mess they leave behind. And they call Sam the Slob?

Anyway, on to the next page…

And who the heck left their Hello Kitty toy in the bathtub? Also, I hate the way Alex’s face is drawn in the lower left corner. Something about the eyes in relation to the shit eating grin just looks off. Less “smug” and gleefully awaiting whatever she plans next and looking more like Dobson when someone tells him his opinion and reasoning for it is bad, but he can’t yell back at them because they are part of a minority and so he has make a “good face” to a bad situation, while internally he is already imagining how to strawman them in some fake news worthy facebook post.

And then we get to page 7. Which features the WORST addition to the “Alex ze Pirate” canon Dobson has ever thought up. An embodiment of what is wrong with Dobson when it comes to inserting internet culture related stuff into his own work. Ladies and gentlemen… the lolcat pirates

Yeah, those Hello Kitty rejects who ironically look still more like a proper cat than Spot in Danny and Spot, are essentially one of the worst jokes Dobson has ever created. Because they are a joke without a punchline. See, all there is to them is that they are sentient cats, that speak in a manner associated with lolcat posting. And that is the “joke”. Their speech pattern being based on a dumb internet meme that was popular at the time Dobson drew this page. It is like if you portray an Asian by making them talk with a shitty racist accent and that supposedly counts already as comedy. It is not funny, because there is nothing really done with it in context of the story. Like no one addresses the weird way they talk. Also, with the font Dobson uses, it is just an eyesore to any reader and the text gets aggravating the more the captain of the cats talks. It shows why lolcat pictures only had very short sentences accompanying the pics, cause reading more than 8 words written in this manner tingles a part of your brain that makes you want to shout “English motherfucker, do you speak it”?

Don’t get me even started on how the joke would get lost to anyone unaware of lolcats and how dated the joke already was back when the page was posted, which is one of many reasons why comic artists should just in general avoid memes in their work, if they hope for it to pass the test of time. Instead let me just point out the fact that though Alex said “All hands prepared for casting off” on the previous page (which is also a very unnatural way to give the order “Everyone get ready! Take off in 10 minutes”) not all hands are on board, seeing how Uncle Peggy is missing on this page (and spoilers) many pages of this afterwards. Weird. I thought he would be onboard the moment Alex mentioned they are going to hijack a ship full of pussy. Lastly, this is Alex being a “badass”? Taking over a ship full of little furballs you can defeat with a laserpointer, a squeaky toy and catnip? Sam, this is not just “almost” embarrassingly easy, this is literally on a level similar to stealing candy from a baby. That is mentally handicapped. And without supervision. In a candy story.

At least it turns out there is genuinely something worth stealing on this ship. Otherwise all Alex would have accomplished on that very day would have been animal abuse for the sake of entertainment. Though now it also gets me thinking: A place called Katsville, the revelation that the captain is supposedly the child of a high ranking military feline within the sea force of an entire species of sentient cats… how exactly does the world of Alex ze Pirate function? Look, I do not want to get into too much detail about this point here yet, because it is a bigger issue with the worldbuilding (or rather lack thereof) of this series in general, but what is the “consistency” when it comes to races and species in this world? See, One Piece for example is overall a very “cartoonish” and fantastic world (more cartoonish than what Dobson creates on average) when you think of the fact there are fish men, giant seacows and seamonsters, sentient furry creatures, islands in the sky, sentient weather phenomenons etc next to humans. And while Oda does not really spend time elaborating in very high detail how his world works, the sheer abundance of those elements and how they were established pretty early on in the story and are revisited constanly, with the cartoonish flavor and humor of One Piece on top of it, makes those oddities feel organic and a part of the world.

Not so much in AzP. Here over 90% of the time any character not related to the crew is some generically drawn human, in a very generically human setting with jokes just not cartoonish enough. So the world of AzP feels more “realistic” and less oddish, making then things like Talus, the lolcat pirates and once a giant sea dragon that looked like Elliot’s rejected cousin

Stand out like a sour thumb that looks like this

But I digress. Lets see what makes Sam, who just seems bored and wants to end his miserable life/drink his sorrows away, throw the cat captain against the wall.

Okay. Sam’s overall reaction makes it clear, the locket is important. So “kudos” for establishing this and in doing so also create within a moment a bit of intrigue for the reader. After all, why does this locket get such a reaction out of Sam, who we know so far as more happy go lucky or deadpan in parts, instead of looking genuinely distraught. Heck, the fact he even tells Alex to shut up when she commands him around should highlight how out of character finding this locket truly makes Sam.

Then there is Alex’s reaction to being told to shut up, which she takes with as much dignity as someone telling Dobson to just stop fawning about underaged lesbians in a toddler show.

Jesus Christ, she faces being told she looks like a guy with more grace than that. I mean, isn’t she used to being told to shut her trap? Cause if I were her parents, I would have told this entitled redheaded whinner a few times over the course of her childhood to shut up.

Scum sucking cabin boy… said by a butt ugly whore who would genuinely suck scum off if it means she can finally get laid instead of being mistaken for a man. By the way, with that angry face she makes in the first panel, I can totally see why others would mistake her for a dude. She just looks unpleasant and not in a funny way like that red panda girl from Aggretsuko. See, when she gets angry, it looks hilarious and cute because of the contrast to how the character looks ordinarily. This is just Alex looking even more unpleasant as usual.

Now, before I continue with the next pages, I like to point out the face Sam makes in the upper panel and Sam’s overall body language in the last one.

It is obvious that Sam is meant to be in a state of mind where he knows for what he is getting yelled at and where he genuinely reacts in a hurt manner. His body shaking, his head tilted down, not saying even a word. You would expect that the next page of this comic would be a follow up. Seeing Sam, who is pent up, lashing out in some way. Either for example by justifying why he said it, getting sad, angry, perhaps even violent in that situation. After all, so far the way this story has been structured, a lot of emphasize was put on the fact that Sam is treated not well and that finding this locket actually has an uncommon effect on him. Heck, even the title of this chapter hints on the idea, that we should get some sort of huge reaction out of Sam now on the next page, as this is supposed to be Sam’s story.

Instead it is just Alex grumbling and grinding her teeth, unable to comprehend that someone finally told her something every reader with more than 20 braincells said when reading this comic series. And this in my opinion is from a structural point, one of the biggest missteps in this story. Obviously, this is supposed to be a comic about Sam, based on title and him being the one character in it with the most emotional aspects so far. And it is also obvious that this is not just meant to be a silly gag comic but supposedly one with emotional weight. So, where is that weight so far, aside from the panels showing Sam being miserable because he gets the short end of the stick by his friends? Sorry to hijack this thing here now with my own ideas, but if I had writen this story, page 12 and 13 would have actually been an immense turning point for me in the dynamic so far. Why I would have let Alex shout at Sam for insubordination, I would have made it more than one panel of Alex calling him scum and also end likely with Sam, who obviously reaches a limit the longer she goes on about it, end punching her in the face, perhaps even knock out. Show truly just how far Sam is pushed emotionally at this moment, keeping it however ambiguous if he hit her because of her words hurting or because of something else, in doing so focusing also the attention to the reader back on the locket.

As an aftermath of this, Alex would (if not knocked out) hit Sam back, much to Atea’s and Talus horror, later implying additionally that Sam left because of being hit by whom he thinks is not just his captain but a “friend” (oh yes spoiler, Sam is gone in the next chapter) or the next page would be of Alex waking up back in her hideout from having been knocked out. Atea and Talus informing her what happened, her deciding to deal with Sam later on after recovering (who accompanied everyone back on the island temporarily) only for the last page showing Sam deciding that he is leaving the island, ending the chapter on Sam in a small boat slowly drifting away from the island. You know, something to give the chapter the feeling that the “shut up” moment is an emotional turning point in this story and that there might be something bigger going on that resulted in Sam deciding to leave, without having him however go full Meg Griffin as in the Family Guy episode “Seashell Seahorse Party”, chewing Alex and the others out for the way they treat him. Cause honestly, as much as I like for Alex, Atea and Talus to be chewed out and face consequences for their actions, doing so would likely just be (like in that Family guy episode) a pointless fillerbuster in the bigger picture of things, as no real consequences would come out of it.

Well that and just like the writers of Family Guy, Dobson is just equally loathsome and thinks he can write whatever sick joke he wants and can on his characters, basic decency or consistency in writing be damned.

But back to the comic, where things just “end” as shown here instead of any real emotions boiling up and a cliffhanger that may genuinely beg the question what is going to happen next to anyone involved in this thing.

Cause really, by the time it is night and Sam says it is time to go, you are not surprised he wants to go, even if he did not have a genuine emotional outburst within this chapter. After all, who wants to stay with “friends” like this, with Talus and Atea not even trying to cheer him up and instead ignoring his obvious need for comfort in this uncomfortable way, as if they are a bunch of racists trying to look away as someone beats a black person in front of them into a pulp. The only question you may ask yourself by the time the last page is hit, is who that generic looking girl is, whose picture has been photoshopped into the locket.

Something we may not find out by the time the next chapter and part of this review hits, but will get to eventually. Until then guys, in order to end on something happier, funnier and just genuinely more pleasant than what this story presented to us so far, have something silly and Super Sentai related here for the sake of childish entertainment.

youtube

#Andrew Dobson #alex ze pirate #webcomics #syac #tom preston #abusive female heroes #abusive heroes #atea #talus #comics #cartoons #this sucks #storytelling 101 #adobsonartwork

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thesolitarystripe · 4 years ago

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Writing Prompt #7: That was his idea not mine

“No.”

“Ellius…”

“Absolutely not!”

The two were walking the length of the stone path within the stables. Elliot’s expression was one of annoyance, the lines of his face etching deeper around his brow and mouth as he frowned. William chased after him, hands waving emphatically as he spoke.

“I need you,” William went on to say.

“Need? William, you have a whole Knighthood at your disposal,” Ellius hissed and waved away his friend as he continued to pester him.

“Ellius, half of them have been sent to Telios to pay our respects as a kingdom for the loss of the Archduke’s youngest. I need someone to ride beside me, the right marker.”

“Oh yes, I would do quite well as the right marker,” Elliot leaned into William who was a few inches lower in height than he.

“It’s just an expression, no one is going to be stabbing at you. I just need you on a horse, at my side, looking as regal as you can manage while we escort our guests inside.”

“Right, good. Let me just go kneel at the altar and ask Helios for a small favor, I’m certain this whole time he has been having a good laugh watching me stumble around, with eyesight as dark as the night, all because in an instant he could snap his godly fingers and restore my eyes to their former glory! If only I just asked!” Ellius was not the type to yell, even when he led the Hilyon Knighthood as First Hand to the king but, William was beginning to irritate him.

“You won’t even need your eyes,” William grunted, “that warhorse of yours was raised on Hilyon soil, there’s no piece of road untouched by his hooves. You think he would falter when walking alongside my mare?”

“I do not doubt him,” Ellius retorted, a look of genuine disgust hanging off his features at the insinuation that he did not trust his most beloved companion. “William, how embarrassing it will be if I--.”

“I will not allow that to happen. Simply. I will be right beside you, like old times.” William put his body in front of Ellius’ and despite the way his oldest friend towered over him with that unnatural height, he stopped him with ease. William’s hands wrapped around Ellius’ elbows, squeezing them. “Please.” There was a long moment of silence where the wind danced around their feet and kicked up dust and hay into the air.

“I hate you,” Ellius sighed.

“Ah! Yes, thank you!” William clutched his friend to his chest in an embrace that nearly knocked the wind from Ellius’ lungs. The pair continued down the aisle, stalls on their right and open-air to their left. “I had a feeling you might concede so I took the liberty of readying your horse.”

“You are such a—” Ellius voice cut off, drowned out by the shrill whinny of his horse who greeted him. Ellius hand was held out in that searching manner, waiting to connect. The ebony stallion lowered his giant head and nudged it against Ellius’ palm. A small smile tugged at the corner of Ellius’ lips despite his anger.

“You will be fine,” William went on as if the conversation never ended. “Now, strip down you can’t go riding out to greet a neighboring kingdom looking like a stable boy.”

“I am a stable boy,” Ellius corrected him, not ready yet to speak amiably with his friend.

“You are a knight of Hilyon, likely the most respected one of our time.” William’s hands were reaching for Ellius, pulling off the dirtied tunic he wore and replaced it with a new one of rich burgundy. Over the top of it, he shimmied on a tabard with the Hilyon crest emblazoned upon the chest and back. A gold lion with its teeth bared, mouth wide, appearing to be in the middle of a deafening roar. About the centerpiece was a laurel, green and striking against the warmer colors of their homeland. Ellius stood patiently as he was dressed and handled by his friend. To any onlooker, it may have been an odd sight but for the brothers in arms who had grown alongside one another—it was just another day. William had become a caretaker to Ellius in the early days after the incident. Having to relearn the most simplistic activities of daily living, Ellius grew somber for a great many years. Each day, William tended to Ellius first, ensuring the ex-knight was well dressed and groomed, fed and bathed before he sought to satisfy his own needs and duties. Ellius was always grateful for him, even now when William pressed him to ride at the head of a welcome caravan. It was Hiylon tradition to greet one’s guests well before the outer walls of the city and to bring them inside with a parade of knights, bathed in the colors of the kingdom. Many sought to see it for themselves.

When Ellius was made to look as presentable as was possible given their hurried circumstances, William set the reins in Ellius’ hands and pushed him forward. Ellius had ridden many times since the loss of his sight. William was correct in thinking the war beast would protect its rider. With some sixth sense that animals often had, it seemed the creature was aware of the impairment, and he took extra care when being exercised. It was not the ride that worried Ellius, it was leaving the comfort of his stable and the ring where he rode. Outside these walls, he was vulnerable to anything. Ellius stood a moment, hands on either side of the saddle as he rubbed his palms over his horse’s soft black hair.

“Try not to let me look like an imbecile,” Ellius whispered, making the great beast bow its head and curve his neck as he snuffled Ellius’ matching dark hair. Ellius tilted his face up and grinned when he felt the rub of his horse’s fleshy lips run along his cheek.

“Up you go, we’ve no time to waste!”

Ellius mounted, oriented himself to the way the equipment felt beneath his seat and adjusted it accordingly. With a squeeze of his calves, his horse fell in line behind William’s mare on his command.

“Oi! Is that Ellius and the great Gallan?” A familiar voice called out from ahead of them. Ellius recognized the tenor and shook his head.

“This was his idea, not mine.” Ellius nodded in the direction of William’s horse whose hooves were Ellius’ guide. “Just this once,” he added as Gallan did exactly as William predicted and fell into formation without hesitation. It was a muscle memory they both still had. Ellius patted his horse’s neck and smirked, pointing his face down as he did.

“It is good to see you up there,” the other knight called from behind. Ellius only laughed, shook his head and bit at his lower lip.

It felt good to be back.

#writing #creativewriting #writing prompt #thesolitarystripe #Author

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albertonykus · 4 years ago

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I heard rumors of a Diplodocus-sized bipedal sauropodomorph. Do you know if there's been any research done into this?

That sounds like the Lower Elliot Formation sauropodomorph that was presented by Wedel and Yates at SVPCA 2011, which to my knowledge is still undescribed.

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teefa85 · 5 years ago

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Gonna be posting the second story I wrote. This one’s a bit shorter and more on the hurt/comfort. I’ve seen a lot of stuff set in Diin, generally Hawkeye’s reaction to killing Bil and Ben or his worries for Jessica. But never about the entire situation of the desert. His dialogue while in town makes me think of the very problem that started the whole mess and I decided to roll with that...because even beyond my own biases Riesz is a total sweetie.

Under Hawkeye’s advice, the group had traveled through the Burning Sands in the evening. Any earlier, it would have been too hot. Any later, it would have been too cold. Sure, he’d worked in the dead of night before, but normally they traveled to Sirhtan or Diin in the evening, then lay low in hiding within the town which held some protection from the cold. Not to mention having an agent in hiding nearby with blankets for their trip back to Nevarl. And they had not a safe hiding spot nor any blankets!

“We’ll head for the oasis and take a rest there,” Hawkeye informed his friends. “With the time it’ll take to go, it might get really cold by the time we find the Firestone. Then, if we wake up early enough, we won’t have to travel in the heat of the day.”

“Well, you are the expert on deserts, so we will trust you,” Riesz stated.

Kevin nodded. “Lead on, Hawkeye!”

With Hawkeye’s knowledge from growing up in Nevarl, he was able to take them through the safest route. Though it was the most direct route for the most part, at times they did swerve in order to avoid detection from the local monsters. Some fights were unavoidable, but at least that helped to warm the group up a little bit.

* * *

By the time they reached Diin, it was not yet late enough to sleep but too late for them to get to Fiery Gorge and back. So Riesz decided she’d do some shopping in preparation. Of course, she quickly learned that the armor shop was closed at night, while the weapons merchant was up. When she asked, he informed her that his partner would be open the next day.

Vowing to return for the armor before they left, Riesz picked up a new spear, along with a pair of knives and gloves. Every little bit would help considering how dangerous the creatures around there were. Not only that, but they still had to head on to Altenish territory afterwards, and with the rumors of them activating their own Mana Stone, she had to show due precaution.

‘Now…I am feeling a bit thirsty. I wonder how one goes about getting water out here…’

Thankfully, her query was answered by the shop owner himself, telling them that there was a well in the back of town, near the rock formations behind the Inn and Item Shop. Riesz thanked him and headed that way. Once she was refreshed, she’d have to see if her companions had returned to their rooms so she could give them their new weapons…

“You thirsty too, Riesz?”

She looked up, noticing Hawkeye hanging around by the well. He held up a finger as if to tell her to wait, then lowered the bucket down deep into the well. Soon, a splash was heard, and he began pulling it upward. When it got to the top, he filled both of their waterskins as well as putting some in a pair of small cups for immediate consumption.

“So, this is how the people here get their water,” she stated, as if amazed.

Hawkeye informed her, “There’s more here at the oasis than in other places, but the stuff in the lake is for other purposes. Deeper underground, there’s less evaporation under the heat of the sun, and less contamination from animals or foreign objects.”

“It’s amazing just how the people have been able to adapt,” she stated. “The climate is harsh, and yet they are able to survive just fine.”

At those words, the young thief looked down. “The water in the oasis is lower than the last time I came through here. That’s bad news for these folks, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Faerie came out at that moment, commenting how it was probably due to the fluctuations of Mana. Hawkeye agreed with her on that point, saying that Belladonna had told the guild as such when she was still playing nice. And while he knew she was a snake with a tongue full of lies, it wasn’t as if she was above using an actual crisis to her advantage.

“What do you mean by that?” inquired Riesz.

“Just what I said,” he replied. “The reason given for invading Laurent was that the wells in Nevarl are starting to dry up. It’s why only Eagle and I could tell something was rotten about the changes in Lord Flamekhan’s before it was too late! Everyone else just assumed his sudden decision to be the very thing he hated was out of desperation for our lives, and his odd behaviors had been the result of him wrestling with the issue. People were worried…and that witch took advantage of their emotions!”

He hit the rocks behind him in frustration, ignoring the pain pulsing through his fist! And Riesz didn’t quite know what to say. In a way, Hawkeye too had lost his home due to Belladonna, just as she had. And his people were still being used as puppets in that vile woman’s schemes…

‘She might still have Elliot, but at least there were survivors of the Amazon Army. At least Laurent is safe to return to in the end. Belladonna has already killed Hawkeye’s best friend, and others who realized what she was doing. And the longer she stays…the greater risk to whatever friends and family he has remaining…’

“Sorry…didn’t mean to make this about my issues…,” he stated.

But Riesz shook her head. Placing her hands upon his shoulders, she replied, “No. You have every right to feel this way. It sounds funny, considering Nevarlan agents killed many of my countrymen. However, what Belladonna did to them is most cruel. I feel sad just thinking about the people who might wake up one day, wondering where friends or family have disappeared to…”

She didn’t have to say the sentence for Hawkeye to get her gist. “Yeah. That’s partly on my mind too. But for you to worry about me and my people…that’s awfully sweet of you.”

“I was raised to never ignore the suffering of others,” she told him. “In fact, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will. I’m not sure how I can, but if you or I think of something…”

Her words were cut off when Hawkeye brought her close in a tight embrace! He whispered, “Thank you,” into her left ear as he gently rubbed her back. Riesz could feel herself getting hot despite the cold night air around her. Still, the feeling of being in another’s arms was very pleasant, something she would definitely like to do again.

All too soon, however, he let go, apologizing for getting caught up in the moment. She assured him it was fine, that he had a lot of heavy things on his mind. And if he needed to let anything out, she was willing to listen. At those words, a smile crossed Hawkeye’s face.

“Well then, let’s head on back to the Inn,” he began. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Riesz nodded. “Yes, we do.”

He took her hand gently, causing her to blush once again. But Hawkeye didn’t seem to notice, his sight focused on their destination. That was good enough for her, though, really not wanting him to ask any questions about it.

‘I want to help in any way I can. And that includes not getting in his way. I don’t want my confused emotions to cause him any problems.’

As they reached their destination, Hawkeye let go, opening the door and letting Riesz go in first. Even including a playful bow into the mix. She sighed, entering the building. Hawkeye would always be himself, first and foremost. But at least he was a gentleman about it this time!

#trials of mana #fanfiction #hawkeye/riesz

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choices-binglebonkus · 6 years ago

Text

The Best Worst Night of My Life (Tom X MC - NSFW)

Book: It Lives Beneath

Pairing: Tom Sato X MC (Harper Vance)

Rating: NSFW

A/N: This is my first fanfiction on Tumblr, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve written any, so I did my best. Formatting may be a little wonky, but bear with me here, folks.

Summary: After losing his temper and saying something soul-crushing to Harper, Tom Sato is feeling something a little more than guilt...

Word Count: 5886

“For all we know, Elliot is already dead!”

Tom’s words were fierce and shattering like a boom of thunder. He had felt his stomach drop as soon as he realized what he had said. Imogen looked completely blown away and had a scowl on her face wider than Tom had ever seen. Danni looked like she wanted to tear him to shreds right where he stood, and judging by the look on Parker’s face, he wouldn’t have stopped her.

Tom had never felt more guilt in his life than when he looked at Harper. Her eyes had widened—he swore it—for just a second, but her face remained blank. He had just told her that her brother was probably nothing more than a lifeless body, chow for the fish, bobbing around in the lake, and she didn’t even look surprised by it. She looked like she had even accepted it. And fuck, if that didn’t make Tom feel worse than he did before…

Tom took his glasses off and massaged his temples. He briefly glanced over the two new smudges—one on each lens—both smudges from the tears that had slipped past his ducts after earlier’s blowout. Harper hadn’t done anything to him and he yelled at her like an angry customer chewing out a poor retail employee. Imogen and Danni had berated him, and Parker sent him to an empty room to think about what he had done. Tom wiped away some of the forming tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He deserved this.

Harper had been his friend and companion ever since she had moved to Pine Springs. He would have been lying if he said he didn’t feel an immediate attraction to her. She was hot, after all. All Tom could do after their first meeting was sigh and try to push the wild butterflies in his stomach away. What would Arthur think if he caught his employee making goo-goo eyes at his only granddaughter?

As time went on, the two grew closer. After a quick conversation in the garage, he had even managed to score Harper’s cell phone number! The two traded numbers and sent texts to confirm that they had indeed gotten the correct numbers entered, and for the next hour or so, the only thought in his mind was cha-CHING! He had even briefly forgotten the arrangements they made to meet by the lake that evening until Harper started texting him with a sense of urgency he hadn’t felt before. By the time he realized he’d royally fucked up, he almost thought it was too late to go out and meet her. Something in the back of his head told him to go out anyway though, so he grabbed his bat and headed out.

And boy, was he glad he did.

Brutally slaying a terrifying bear…snake…whatever monster with nothing but a baseball bat was cool enough on its own, but saving Harper’s life in the process? To Tom, it was the wildest night he’d ever had. Well, since the all-night Mario Kart 8 tournament he’d had with Andy, anyway. Harper had looked at him with such uncertainty but with such unmistakable awe that night. Tom truly felt like a knight in shining armor.

Their friendship progressed slowly yet surely, and aside from a few instances of casual flirting, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Then, tonight…oh, tonight…

Harper was injured from the Lake Day disaster. After taking off her shirt for him (and, of course, causing his heart to scream out “YOWZA!”), she sat patiently on the edge of the bed waiting for him to work his magic with the contents of the first aid kit. After disinfecting her wounds, Tom asked her how she felt, preparing to put everything back into the kit.

Tom couldn’t even begin to fathom what his face looked like when she asked him to kiss her better.

He could feel his cheeks burning a brilliant red as he stammered his nervous reply. Harper coyly smiled at him and gently cupped his jaw in her hand, and the minute her lips touched his, he could have sworn there were fireworks going off somewhere in his brain. The kiss had ended all too soon, and all Tom could do was helplessly utter a quick question as to how she felt. She responded by leaning back in, but this time, Tom eagerly wrapped his arms around her waist.

Up until that very moment, he had forgotten that she was topless, the only thing separating her supple chest from the cool air of the cabin was her black lacy bra. And oh man, if that wasn’t the total package, Tom didn’t know what was. The icing on top of the…er, package was that the two were on a bed. Tom was praying that his lucky stars would have his back tonight and not reveal the growing tent in his pants.

Thankfully, a few minutes later, they had stopped. Tom cleared his throat and started hurriedly putting the medical supplies away. He was thankful that his erection was calming down, but he was still terrified Harper would see it and call him a creep or a pervert or something. He just couldn’t let that happen.

In an effort to distract her, he made idle conversation with Harper about how he had been nervous before coming to see her. When Harper gave him a huge grin after he expressed his worry about possibly being sick, his mind suddenly shifted and had him fully engaged in the conversation.

“Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

Tom felt his heart practically stop. He confessed that he hadn’t, his hands suddenly covered in a slick layer of sweat. His heart, having just recovered from the fact that he had inadvertently just admitted he was in love with Harper, nearly came to another stop when she admitted she was in love with him too. After Tom had bounced back from his initial shock, the two kissed like they never had before.

But now, here in Ned Mallory’s house, nothing between them would ever be the same. He blew it.

You fucking IDIOT, Tom. You fucking hurt her, you loser. God, what a scumbag. Astrid should’ve jabbed your eye out, you worthless prick.

Tom sighed, drying his eyes. He put his glasses back on, but not before gently wiping away the dried tears on the lenses. He had to apologize, but he doubted she would even listen to him. He basically told her to stop giving a fuck about going back to the lake because her little brother, one of her only family members left, was probably floating around in the lake in bits and pieces.

He took a deep breath and let it go. Quietly standing up and creeping out of the empty room he sat in, he poked his head out into the hallway, glancing downstairs. Imogen and Danni shared a blanket on one of the armchairs, both slumped over. Arthur sat in the other armchair, idly staring ahead, blinking only once in a while as if he were deep in thought. Tom got worried when he noticed Parker’s absence, but he realized that he was probably still on watch.

With the coast clear, Tom tiptoed as quietly but as quickly as he could to Harper’s room.

Knock.

Tom panicked. “Gah, fuck, fuck, what—who the fuck knocks once? F-Fucking…”

Knock knock knock.

Tom patiently waited at the door, nervously tapping his foot. He knew she was probably sleeping. She had almost drowned. But he couldn’t help but feel just a little nervous. After all, “Nervous” was his middle name. Uh, figuratively, of course.

Without a second thought, Tom gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. Harper lay on the bed, facing the wall. Tom was about to turn back and leave when he heard the quietest sob come from the room.

Against his better judgment, Tom found his feet mindlessly scurrying over to Harper’s bedside after he shut the door behind him.

“Um, hey—”

“Go away, Tom. I’m not in the mood.”

Tom cringed. “Harper, please, I’ll only be a minute. I’m not here to give you any more trouble,” he swallowed, looking down in shame as he mindlessly twiddled his thumbs.

Silence.

“Uh, yeah…so…thanks,” Tom nervously shuffled a bit closer. “Um, I…I just wanted to, um,” Tom cleared his throat. “M-My behavior today…what I said was…was not cool, and—”

“Go away.”

Tom frowned. He was starting to get annoyed, but he let his guilt extinguish the flames of his anger. “Harper, please don’t let this change anything between us, I didn’t mean what I said,” he nervously shifted his weight to one leg. “I was scared and angry and I was acting like a jerk, just like Parker said. Just…GOD! I’m so fucking sorry, Harper. I’m doing the best I can here, please—”

Harper rolled over and planted her feet on the ground in a millisecond. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone, Tom!” she snarled.

Tom was taken aback. “Harper—”

“NO! This has been the worst fucking night of my life, Tom. Don’t you fucking get it?! Tonight has been worse than any other damn night in my entire life! Worse than when my dad left my mom and I, worse than when I found mom and Todd dead in our apartment, worse than when I watched Kyle get dragged to his death inches away from me!”

Tom felt his heart shatter. The worst night of her life? “Well,” he sharply inhaled. “I guess I was wrong to think what happened between us in the cabin meant anything, then.” He backed away, glaring at her.

Harper’s eyes widened, and a split second later, the fires of a thousand demons burned in her pupils. “You don’t get to say that,” Harper growled. “You don’t have the fucking right to put words in my mouth, you fucking ASSHOLE!”

“Keep your damn voice down, you’re practically screaming!” Tom hissed.

“We wouldn’t even be arguing if you had just left me alone like I asked in the first place,” Harper spat, stepping closer to Tom even though he towered over her by a good four or five inches.

“No, we wouldn’t be arguing if you weren’t so damn fickle,” Tom crossed his arms, his glare still fixed on Harper. Why is she acting this way?

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be,” she made air quotations with her fingers and lowered her voice to match Tom’s. “’so damn fickle’ if my brother hadn’t been kidnapped by a crazy skeleton monster, The Society hadn’t turned on us and sent all the authorities after our asses, and my grandpa hadn’t dropped the biggest fucking bombshell of the century!”

In the heat of the moment, Harper put both her hands on Tom’s chest and shoved him backwards. Tom managed to resist most of the push, and when Harper moved in to shove him again, he firmly grasped both her wrists to prevent it from happening.

“Let go, dammit!” Harper squirmed as much as she could to get Tom’s grasp to loosen up even the tiniest bit.

“Hell no, you’re just going to push me again!” Tom grunted, tightening his grip on Harper’s wrists when he felt it beginning to slacken.

“Then you’d better hope I don’t come free or it’s your ass!”

Tom gave Harper a questioning look when she stopped struggling. This has to be some kind of trick to get me to let my guard down. His eyes ran up her body. Her chest was heaving, her cheeks were flushed with anger, and her eyes darkened as a strange expression crossed her face. The hostile atmosphere between them seemed to morph into something else entirely, and Tom could feel his heart hammering out of his chest as a strangely familiar feeling began to wash over him.

“I…” Harper swallowed hard, briefly biting her lip. Her chest continued to rise and fall erratically. “Goddamn, I’m so turned on right now,” Harper growled, her voiced laced with a hunger that wasn’t there before.

Tom hadn’t even noticed his raging erection until Harper had made her comment. His pants were absolutely killing him. No sooner had he released his grasp on Harper’s wrists than her hands darted down to make quick work of his belt buckle.

The next minute or so was a blur. Tom had helped Harper out of her shirt while she had helped him out of his. One of them had removed Tom’s jeans—he couldn’t remember who—and as Harper took a minute to look his body up and down, Tom suddenly recalled what had started the whole thing.

“Shove me, will you?” Tom half-asked, half-exclaimed as he shoved Harper onto the bed. She blinked away her surprise at the taste of her own medicine and grinned widely, her eyes half-lidding as Tom loomed over her.

“Come get me,” Harper teased, winking and sticking her tongue out.

“Oh yeah?” Tom licked his lips, looking over her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why should I do that?”

Harper reached up and pulled him to her by the hair, causing him to wince a little. “Because, Tom,” she began, staring right through him. “I’m the one who’s going to be in control tonight.”

Oh.

So she was going to be like that.

Tom swallowed hard and nodded obediently, Harper’s grasp on his raven locks not faltering. Instead, she leaned in a bit more and pressed her lips to his. As Tom started to return the kiss, she stopped and pulled away. She leaned in again and kissed him once more, repeating the same actions over again.

Oh. My GOD.

Harper, gentle and polite as she might have been before, was teasing Tom. She was trying to see how far she could push him.

And he loved every bit of it.

Harper broke the kiss a final time and looked up at him through her lashes, a coy smile playing at her lips. “So, what am I going to do to you tonight, Mister Sato?”

Tom pleasantly shuddered at the sound of Harper referring to him by his last name. “Maybe…s…sex?” he managed to eke out, trying to stand a bit taller to regain his composure.

Harper laughed quietly and gently ran her fingers through Tom’s hair, earning more pleasant shudders. “Well, obviously,” Harper stood on her tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss to Tom’s lips. “But the real question we need answered is what I’m going to do to you before, during, and after.”

Tom stood silently, watching Harper with rapt attention. His palms were covered in yet another layer of sweat and his rapid heartbeat had no intentions of slowing down. He hadn’t been this nervous in…well, ever.

“Make no mistake,” Harper tugged on one of his longer strands of hair, eliciting an excited whimper from her companion. “I’m going to be the one in charge tonight. I promise I’ll take very good care of you, but if you don’t do as you’re told…” Harper’s eyes lowered as she tantalizingly trailed her fingers down Tom’s chiseled chest, down his stomach, stopping when she reached the waistband of his boxers. “You’re going to be in a world of trouble.”

Tom’s eyes were the size of saucers. When he had gotten out of bed that morning, he had never, not in a million years expected what had happened that day to take place. After narrowly escaping The Society, Tom thought the curveballs would stop coming.

He thought wrong.

Harper suddenly gave a harsh tug on another lock of Tom’s hair. “We clear?”

Tom nodded frenetically. “Y-Yes, clear. We’re clear. We are so clear.”

“That’s good. Now,” Harper smirked and snapped her fingers. “Help me out of my jeans, and make it snappy.”

Tom would have laughed at her pun had he not been so entranced by the situation at hand. Before his mind had even processed what was happening, his hands were unbuttoning Harper’s jeans and unzipping them. Harper smiled and sat back on the bed, raising her legs, and Tom tugged each pant leg off until she sat before him in nothing but her black lace underwear and matching bra.

“Alright, that’s good,” Harper grinned wider. “Get rid of those boxers.”

Tom didn’t need to be told twice. He had his boxers off quicker than a bride’s nightie. His erection, freed from its cottony prison, gently slapped against his stomach for a moment. Tom could feel searing heat in his face, another blush blooming across his cheeks.

“Very nice,” Harper purred, admiring his manhood with a faint blush appearing on her own cheeks. “Now, lay down for me and play with yourself.”

Tom froze. He swallowed so hard he could have sworn a visible lump went down his throat.

She…wants me to masturbate in front of her?

Nonetheless, Tom was hard as a rock, and the thought of Harper getting pleasure from watching him jack off was enough to obliterate his shyness. Well, most of it, anyway.

Harper moved a bit on the bed to give Tom enough room to lay down. He sat on the bed and reached back, freeing his hair from the band that held it in the messy bun he fixed every morning. Setting the hairband on the nearby nightstand, Tom eased onto his back, his hair splaying across the pillow. He propped himself up slightly and took his erection in his hand, gripping it ever so slightly.

Slowly and steadily, his grip firmed, and his hand slid up and down the length of his manhood. It felt pretty good, but it would feel even better if he sped up. But Tom wanted this for now; he wanted to tease Harper like she had teased him.

Ignoring his burning cheeks, Tom looked over at Harper who sat at the foot of the bed. She met his eyes and smiled, giving him a small wink. As awkward as Tom felt, he felt himself return the smile and give her his own clumsy wink, quickly looking back down to focus on what Harper had commanded him to do.

Tom autonomously bit his lip in concentration, his eyes half-lidding as his pace began to quicken.

Down. Up. Twist. “Nnn…” Down. Twist. Up. Down. Up. Gasp.

Tom almost forgot Harper was in the room until he happened to look up for a brief moment. He had also not realized that she had stopped giving commands. She was just…watching.

Only when he more closely paid attention to the position of her hands did he realize that one of them had dipped into her panties.

A warbled moan from somewhere deep in Tom’s throat escaped him, a small globule of pre-cum beading on the tip of his dick. It was just too much, but it wasn’t enough.

“Harper, please,” Tom panted, clumsily sliding his hand up and down his length. “Do something. Anything.”

Harper gave a quiet gasp at the urgency in his voice, pulling her hand out of her panties and taking a deep breath to relax herself. Her impish grin returned to her face a moment later.

“I suppose I’ll oblige,” she giggled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “But you’re not really supposed to be asking anything of me, so I’m going to have to punish you somehow. You know how it is.”

Harper’s eyes came to rest on something by the nightstand Tom couldn’t quite see because of his position on the bed. She got off the bed and walked over to the nightstand, bending over to pick up the item in question, the pair of handcuffs the group had decided to keep after Imogen was locked into them. As Harper walked back to the bed, Tom couldn’t take his eyes off her lovely waist and shapely ass. Every swivel of her hips drove him mad. Had he still been playing with himself, he might’ve cum right then and there.

“Lay down all the way for me,” Harper ordered, Tom immediately slinking down to where he was completely on his back. “Okay, now hold your arms back for me.”

Tom lifted his arms above his head, and Harper looped the handcuffs through one of the posts of the headboard before putting Tom’s wrists in the restraining device, cuffing him tight enough so he couldn’t wriggle free, but loose enough that it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Well, I guess I’m really at your mercy now,” Tom sheepishly grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before his nervousness returned. “I, um, I’m sorry if I don’t last too long. I kinda got pretty far when I was, um…playing in…‘single player’ mode…”

“Mmm, don’t worry,” Harper crawled up the bed, stopping at Tom’s erection. He shivered when she gently took it in her hands, running her fingers over every inch of it, almost as if to memorize its shape and feeling. “I promise I’ll take good care of you tonight no matter how long you last.”

Tom suddenly gasped, his fists clenching as Harper slowly licked all the way up his shaft. “H-Harper, hhaaaaahhh…please…”

Harper smiled, repositioning her hand on Tom’s manhood. She leaned in once again and gingerly dipped the head in her mouth, her tongue running over its surface area. She gave him a gentle, experimental suck, earning another quiet gasp from her companion.

“No more, g-gonna cum…”

Harper gently released Tom and watched as he lay writhing beneath her, panting with sweat beading up on his forehead. His face was beet red, probably one of the reddest shades of “Tom’s blushy-nervousy complexion” she’d ever seen grace his cheeks.

“Sorry…‘m sorry,” Tom rasped, his chest’s rising and falling beginning to slow down a bit. “You almost finished me off just then, I don’t want this to end before you’re ready.”

Harper gave a small smile. “Thoughtful of you,” she brushed a stray lock of hair from Tom’s face and reached down to straighten his glasses for him. “Most guys probably wouldn’t hesitate to let their lady finish them off.”

Tom’s heart did a little backflip. Harper had just indirectly referred to herself as his lady. His lady. What did this mean for them? Were they just a budding romance, or were they, dare Tom even ask, boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought of them together as an official couple made Tom internally swoon. But now, here, he had to focus on the matter at hand.

And that matter at hand was getting laid.

Harper bit her lip and looked down at her panties, Tom’s eyes following her hands as they slowly dragged the fabric down her legs. She reached back and locked eyes with him as she fiddled with the clasp of her bra, Tom’s heart skipping a bit faster as soon as he heard the click of her bra being unclasped. She shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor, her deliciously round breasts illuminated by the pale moonlight that crept through the blinds.

Tom couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her chest. Had he not been restrained by the handcuffs, he would have sat up and reached out to touch them. Just by looking at how round and supple they were, he could practically feel them in his hands.

Harper once again crawled high up on the bed, hovering over Tom’s pelvis. “Is this okay?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.

Tom swallowed and nodded, giving a hint of a smirk. “Yeah, but you’re the one in charge here, remember?”

Harper lightly chuckled, reaching down to stroke his cheek. “I know. I haven’t forgotten,” she murmured, her eyes darting downwards as she reached for him, carefully lining him up against her.

The only sound in the room as the two of them became one was the quiet, almost inaudible gasp that escaped both their lips simultaneously.

Harper lowered herself onto Tom until he was buried to the hilt. He sincerely hoped she was enjoying this as much as he was. He mindlessly reached for her hips, only to find his hands pulled back by the handcuffs.

“Let me do this for you, Tom,” Harper whispered, leaning down to kiss his collarbone. She traveled upwards and planted several soft kisses across his jawline, stopping to gently nibble the crook of his neck. “I may be the one in charge, but I promised to take care of you, and that means giving you the ride of your life,” Tom gasped as her lips found his sweet spot, gently nibbling and sucking the tender skin of his neck. Harper suddenly stopped and looked down at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And I plan to deliver.”

Harper firmly planted her hands on either side of him, slowly moving up and down. Tom drank in the sight of her hovering over him, her gorgeous breasts bouncing with every movement she made. He desperately wanted to reach out and grasp her hips, her breasts, anything, but the handcuffs kept him securely restrained. He would have complained had he not been completely entranced by the situation he was in.

Tom would have never expected their relationship to turn out like this so quickly, or at all, for that matter. He had never heard his boss mention anything about even having grandchildren, but when he stumbled upon the old man poring over legal documents entrusting him with Elliot’s care, Tom felt himself immediately bubbling with curiosity. He simply had to ask what was going on.

“Bah,” Arthur had sneered. “I’ve never met either of ‘em. I’m only doing this because my daughter would have wanted it. If they so much as misplace one damn thing in this house, it’ll be their heads.”

Tom found himself questioning who “they” were, as only Elliot was mentioned in the papers. He inquired who else would be staying with Arthur.

“Well, I have to take care of this kid, Elliot, and his older sister, Harper, will probably have to come stay here from time to time when she’s not in college,” Arthur replied. “I’ve never even met these kids, they’ll probably be a pain in my ass,” he spat.

Tom had merely shrugged it off. Arthur was his boss, not to mention cranky if he was bothered enough. The last thing he wanted to do was piss the old man off by asking one too many questions. Elliot and his sister, Harper, were going to be staying with Arthur, and that was that. Tom almost expected the pair to be an inconvenience to him as well, because Arthur’s mood would almost certainly go south. He was a solitary man, only tolerating even Tom for a limited amount of time before shooing him off. Surely two people living with him would wind up pissing him off, and fast. What Tom didn’t expect was to come marching through Arthur’s front door one day to see a lovely young woman there.

Harper suddenly gave a soft moan, her eyes closed and her movements quickening, which effectively pulled Tom from his train of thought. “Tom…nnnnn…” He felt his lips quivering as he held back his own sounds of pleasure. She wasn’t making this easy for him; the sound of her moaning his name brought him to the brink of orgasm.

The day he had met her, he had called Andy up on the phone and yammered on and on about how he had hit it off with a pretty girl he had just met. He knew she would probably end up in the arms of someone else in town within a week or month or so, but he never expected to be the one lucky in love.

“S-So warm…” Tom blissfully mumbled, closing his eyes and bucking his hips to try and meet Harper thrust for thrust. “You’re so beautiful…”

Harper abruptly stopped moving, and soon enough, Tom felt the sensation of her lips on his. He made a face to return the favor, thrusting his hips upwards as Harper gently parted his lips with her tongue. Tom fiercely combatted her tongue with his own, managing to turn the tables and invade her mouth as her hands worked their way into his hair.

Tom felt yet another sensation, this time, a warm, contracting feeling around his erection. Harper, with her lips still pressed against Tom’s, moaned and sighed and grasped his hair as she hit her peak, riding out each wave of pleasure with a shaky thrust from Tom.

Harper gently pulled away, panting. Her cheeks were even more flushed and her eyes were glassy with a post-climax look about them. “Come on, Tom,” she seductively whispered. “I know you’re almost there, you’re doing great, sweetie.”

Tom threw his head back and groaned, Harper’s voice calling him “sweetie” replaying over and over in his mind. The coiling spring in his abdomen was getting tighter and tighter by the minute. She was right; Tom was almost finished. Come on, Sato. Just another minute—hnnn…another thirty seconds at least!

“Just a…haaaaah…a m-minute longer,” Tom moaned, bucking his hips faster. “N-Not ready…” He could feel his glasses about to fall off his face, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the beautiful girl he was making love with.

“You’re so cute,” Harper giggled, tracing Tom’s jawline with her finger, earning a few pleasant shudders from him. “Whenever you’re ready, Tom.”

Tom slowed down his thrusts, instead exchanging speed for power. He bucked his hips as hard as he could, sweat glistening on his forehead, and he felt the tension in his body start to come undone. “H-Harper,” he groaned, his toes curling up as he began to come undone. “O-Oh my G-God, HARPHPH!” Tom moaned into Harper’s mouth after she had pressed her lips to his once more, spilling his entirety into her warmth as he slowed his thrusts, slowly coming down from his high.

Harper collapsed next to Tom, who was panting and gasping for breath. She smiled and snuggled up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, which still hadn’t returned to a normal pace. “Sorry for kissing you so suddenly,” she began, prompting Tom to open his eyes and look at her. “When you started to cum, you got kind of loud. Didn’t want to wake the others up.”

“Oh, right. I kinda forgot there are other people in the house,” Tom replied. “But whatever. I, um, had a pretty nice time…” he looked away, suddenly feeling rather awkward.

“A pretty ‘nice’ time?” Harper laughed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you probably had a little more than just a ‘nice’ time.”

Tom rolled his eyes and smiled, the blush in his cheeks still ever-present. “I…y-yeah, I really had fun. Do you think we can maybe do this more often once this is all over?”

Harper giggled, leaning upwards to kiss Tom’s jawline. “Absolutely,” she locked eyes with Tom. “We’re going to get through this. I know it.”

Tom frowned, remembering the circumstances. “I sure hope so, Harper.”

“Come on, we’ll be fine. It’s you and me against the world, babe.” Harper lay back down, resting her head on Tom’s chest once more.

Tom could feel himself grinning. He was just so content—no, happy—with life right now. Even with all the drownings and The Society chasing after them and all the undead monsters, he had Harper, and he would never let her go.

The two lay in silence for a few minutes, snuggled up together. The room smelled of fresh sex, the musky scent lingering in the air. Oddly enough, Tom found it kind of refreshing. The pair continued their silence before Harper spoke up. “I feel gross,” she muttered, looking down.

“Huh? Why?” Tom asked, sitting up a bit.

“I mean, um…we just kind of had sex on a dead man’s bed.”

“Oh,” Tom slunk back down. “Ned, right? Did…you know him?”

Harper nodded. “Only for a little. I met him the morning after Kyle died. When I showed up at his house and told him I was suspicious of what was going on in Pine Springs, he gave me an Omen Bracelet to help protect me. But…then…”

A silence hung in the air between the two, an understanding passing between them before Harper cleared her throat. “Anyway, I don’t want to ruin the mood. Tonight, as bad as things have been, was pretty good, all things considered,” Harper admitted with a smile. “And I know I said this was the worst night of my life, but honestly? This has been the best worst night of my life, so…thank you,” she reached up to cup Tom’s face and pressed a long, heated kiss to his lips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of smooching you,” Tom grinned. “But for now, how ‘bout you grab the key to these handcuffs and let me go? My wrists are feeling gnarly right now.”

Harper went rigid. “The…key?”

“Oh, no,” Tom groaned, sensing immediately where this was going. “Don’t tell me the key wasn’t with the handcuffs when you grabbed them earlier.”

“Um, we still have the key, remember? It’s just that…I’m pretty sure Grandpa has it…”

“Can you get the key from him and bring it back up here?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s two things right off the bat that I can see causing trouble,” Harper raised one of her fingers. “First of all, he’s going to be suspicious of me asking for the key,” she raised another finger. “Second, there are a ton of keys on that keychain, and they all look exactly the same, and if I know Grandpa, he’s just going to come up here himself and find you like this.”

Tom sighed. “Yeah, that does sound like him…” he perked up a second later. “Okay, just in case he comes up here, can you put my pants and boxers back on for me so it’ll minimize the embarrassment I’ll have to suffer through?”

Harper grimly nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

As soon as Tom’s pants were back on, Harper exited the room and gave Tom a sympathetic look before closing the door behind her. He listened to her footsteps going down the stairs until they faded. He strained to listen to the hushed tones of conversation going on in the living room, completely unable to make out any words between Harper and Arthur.

Soon, Tom could hear footsteps making their way up the steps, but he felt a pang of terror shoot through him as he realized the footsteps weren’t Harper’s. All he could do was lay there helplessly and wait for the inevitable.

The door opened, Arthur standing there with the keys in his hands. He locked eyes with Tom, still shirtless and sweaty, bound to the bed in a pair of handcuffs with the sharp musk of sex still obviously present in the room.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…

Tom forced a toothy grin, trying to look as casual as possible. “Heya, boss! What’s shakin’, bacon?”

Arthur stood there for a minute with a completely blank expression on his face. Then, without a word, he turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him.

#playchoices fanfic #tom sato #it lives beneath #tom sato x mc #choices stories you play #tomoichi sato #tomoichi sato x mc #long post #fanfic #choices stories we play #tom sato fanfic

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 2 years ago

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picking these 10 was very difficult there are too many triassic weirdos and I'm not even touching the sea right now

#palaeoblr #triassic #polls #prehistoric life #dinosaurs

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lacystar · 7 years ago

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Canonicups - A Taste of Heaven, Ch. 1

So if you haven’t heard about the whole situation with Gerard voring a Reese’s cup, good. Read this and you’ll find out. Also sorry this is formatted weirdly. Tumblr’s post length sucks. :/

Ships: Canonicups (Gerard Canonico x Reese’s Cup)

Warnings: swearing, not smut but oddly steamy undertones

Word count: 2,045

@hey-hamlet-bmc this is for you Elliot. I hope it’s accurate to your experience.

———

Gerard could sense it from a mile away.

He’d been standing backstage. Jennifer Tepper was talking about the show and how successful she thought it would be, and Gerard had been listening very intently.

But then... it just hit him.

Maybe the air conditioning changed direction, directing the irresistible musty peanut scent to his nose.

Or maybe he’d heard the crinkle of the wrapper. That high pitched little squeak. The beg to be let out of the paper prison and into a loving mouth.

Or maybe he’d just sensed it. Just gotten that gut feeling of wanting something so bad it canceled every single one of his other thoughts and made his stomach churn... and rumble.

But however it happened, whether through smell or hearing or feeling, or maybe all three, that single moment, that pang of absolute desire would change Gerard forever.

Jennifer was still talking, but Gerard wasn’t listening anymore.

“I just feel so incredibly honored to be working on it, y’know? Joe has had such a huge impact-“

“We’re going downstairs.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jennifer’s face twisted in confusion, or at least Gerard thought it did. It was hard to tell. Everything was so blurry.

“What?”

He didn’t have time for this. Gerard turned on his heel and began power walking to the stairs. Looking back, he might’ve realized how rude he was being. But he couldn’t care. There was too much at stake to care about anything other than finding it, whatever it was.

The closer he got to the stairs the stronger the feeling became. The dry tightness of his throat. His sandpaper tongue. His heart that felt almost more machine than muscle with its rapid yet steady pulsing.

All of his senses were muted to the world around him, yet dialed to 100 when it came to it.

Whatever this thing was, it was his new air supply. Gerard knew that if he couldn’t get to it, he would die. It sounded ridiculous, but Gerard now associated this emotion, this new adrenaline, as dying.

The closer he got, the more amped it got. The nearer he drew, the desire chocked his heart harder.

It was coming from the bag check.

He knew better than this. He knew better than to just walk around where a group of fans was waiting to see him. But he didn’t care.

He was faintly aware of Jennifer following him. Good. It excited him, the thought of her seeing whatever the hell was about to go down.

One of the bag checkers, a girl, caught his eye and waved to him.

It was coming from her. It wasn’t her, exactly, but it was coming from her.

“Gerard, you look pale,” Jennifer worried, grabbing his shoulder. He shrugged her off.

He beelined for her.

The friendly bag check lady said something. Actually, she’d been talking for a minute now. Yet again, Gerard hadn’t been paying attention.

“Uh, I’m... sorry, I- what? Did you say? What did you say?” God, he couldn’t even talk right.

The lady’s brow furrowed in concern. “I asked if you wanted a Reese’s Cup?”

And all at once the frantic pounding in Gerard’s chest stopped.

It— his soulmate, he now knew— had a name. And it was Reese’s Cup.

Realizing he was gaping like a fish and hadn’t responded, Gerard nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Gerard’s head was pounding now and he felt sick to his stomach. What was happening to him? Was this how Rich felt when he needed Mountain Dew Red, a part of him wondered.

It seemed like a century passed as Bag Check Lady reached into her pocket and closed her fingers around Reese’s Cup’s wrapper. It let out another crinkle, this one of joy and utter relief. Gerard realized that it must be going through the same, lovestruck, near death experience he was going through, and found solace in the fact that he wasn’t alone. Soon it would all be alright.

Bag Check Lady lifted her hand out to him and he lunged. She stumbled back as he tore the candy from her hand.

His eyes finally focused through the blurriness. The orange paper was a beacon in the rest of the world. It was the single tiny barrier separating him from his lover. He loathed and loved it all at once.

A drop of water fell on it.

Wait, no, not water. Spit. Gerard was drooling. Or, less drooling, more foaming at the mouth. He hunched protectively over the treat in his hands, and his whole body convulsed in violent shivers.

He was so hungry that he wanted to throw up.

“Holy shit, Gerard,” Jennifer grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully turned him to look at her.

Gerard snarled, and let out a noise that sounded like a bark, growl, and yelp conglomerated. His arms snapped to his chest, hands protectively wrapped around Reese’s Cup, who let out a panicked crinkle.

Jennifer’s eyes widened and she let go. “What the fuck Gerard, I- you-“ she shook her head, “I’m getting you help.”

Before he could grab her, Jennifer was running away. Shit, Gerard thought. Now she couldn’t see him reconcile with his lover.

He turned back to Bag Check Lady, but she’d already turned her back to him to continue searching bags.

Gerard carefully unfurled his arms from his chest and looked back down at Reese’s Cup. He took one more second to admire the curly calligraphy that was his lover’s name, and then carefully tore the orange prison cell open, careful not to rip into Reese’s Cup on accident.

He reached into the packaging and carefully felt for the candy, the packaging crinkling in anticipation. His pointer finger brushed it and a jolt of electricity raced down his spine. Gerard gingerly pinched it between said pointer finger and his thumb, and pulled it out.

It was beautiful.

The crimped paper packaging was gorgeous compliment to its dark, coco skin, like an expensive dress. Its flesh seemed so smooth, and he found his finger gliding along it to further prove his point.

“Hi,” he whispered breathlessly.

It didn’t speak, but he smiled nonetheless, tears gathering in his eyes as he felt the love radiating off of it. He’d never felt so wanted.

For a beat, everything was perfect.

His stomach growled violently, and he snapped back into his carnivorous state, all kindness gone.

Gerard began to raise the treat to his mouth, when he remembered Jennifer. He’d wanted her to come along so she could see this moment, but she wasn’t here anymore.

For an unexplainable reason, he just couldn’t do this without anyone watching. He needed someone to witness this moment. Someone had to share this with him so that someday, when someone wrote a biography about him, they could retell this crucial moment in his life.

He needed someone to share the miracle of love with.

His eyes rose and scanned the small crowd of fans waiting to get in. He caught the eyes of a boy who was trying to indiscreetly look at him. They locked eyes.

Perfect.

With his target acquired, he brought the treat up and took a little whiff. The peanut chocolate concoction smelled delectable, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He used both hands and brought it to his mouth.

It felt so intimate to be doing in public, and with someone purposely watching no less, but god it felt right. His brain was pleasantly foggy with desire, and he couldn’t comprehend how odd and somewhat disgusting this whole scenario was. He had just never been more hungry.

As the growling in his stomach reached a cacophony, Gerard thrust his lower lip forward, digging it into the treat. He scooped and inhaled the treat into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact with the boy across the room. He’d never stared at anyone so intensely. It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. He bit down.

It was the best thing he’d ever put in his mouth.

Warmth flooded him. The ratio of peanut butter to chocolate was perfect, the mix of hard outer shell and soft inside healing his headache, his queasiness. He stopped shaking and continued to chew. He didn’t want to swallow yet. This was too special.

Despite the fact that he already felt better, the intensity was still there. He continued staring at the boy across the room, whose eyes were as wide as saucers and whose mouth lay agape in confusion. This didn’t register to Gerard at first.

But slowly, as he began to walk towards the stairs leading to the lobby, the events of the last five minutes began to catch up to him. A whirlpool of emotions slowly flooded him, mainly made up of confusion. Because, he thought as he stuffed the wrapper in his pocket, what the actual fuck had just happened?

It was as if he hadn’t been in control of his own body. And he realized, as he walked, that he didn’t really remember what had just occurred.

He could recount it, sure. He could tell someone what had happened. But he couldn’t remember the feelings or the drive.

He stepped up a couple steps when the gravity of the situation fully fell on him. He finally swallowed Reese’s Cup, dread filling his stomach along with the candy.

Did he just... get sexually attracted to a Reese’s Cup? And then... vore it... in front of-

He dared to look back over his shoulder. The boy he’d stared at while doing the deed was still looking at him in incredulous horror.

Oh fuck.

Embarrassment and terror jolted through Gerard. What the fuck. How was he supposed to make this better? Did he go back to the guy and apologize for an occurrence he didn’t even fully understand himself?

He stuttered out and “uh,” to nobody in particular, and then, holding eye contact with the boy for only a second longer, turned and sprinted up the stairs.

Gerard dashed through the lobby, panting. Running was definitely the best way to resolve this situation, he decided.

Jennifer almost collided with him as he skirted backstage.

“Oh Jesus-“ she sighed, grabbing him by the shoulders, “I called Troy to fill in for you. You’re free to go home and... figure yourself out.” She looked him up and down, “Do you need a ride to the doctor or-“

“No!” Gerard shook himself out of his stupor, “I... I’m fine,” he lied, “and Troy doesn’t have to come in. I can do it.” Because really, he had a job to do and no smoking hot candy bar was gonna distract him from that.

She looked doubtful, but Gerard continued to try and persuade her and eventually she agreed to let him do the show.

So he left without another word to her and stumbled to his dressing room. George and Will were in there, unsurprisingly, as they often just hung around in there whenever they felt like it.

Gerard collapsed onto a chair, and took a good minute to stare at himself in the makeup mirror. He almost didn’t recognize the face he saw.

“Wow, not even a hello?” Will joked.

No response.

An awkward heavy silence filled the room. Gerard managed to break eye contact with the monster in the mirror, and dug his palms into his eyes.

Will spoke again, more tentatively “... Are you ok?”

“I don’t know.” George opened his mouth to talk, “don’t ask me about it,” Gerard cut him off. George closed his mouth.

Eventually, Gerard forced himself up out of the chair, stuffing the events of the night into the back of his mind as he got into costume. Will and George continued talking as if all were normal, but they didn’t engage with him. Every now and then, Gerard could feel their questioning stares baring into him.

If Jennifer told anyone else what had happened, they didn’t approach Gerard.

The performance went fine, but Gerard’s heart wasn’t in it.

He didn’t stagedoor. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to see that boy who he’d probably scarred for life when the incident went down.

Besides, he had to get home and rest. He had a lot to think about.

To be continued...

#bmc #bmc fanfiction #bmc fandom #bmc nyc #bmc new york #be more chill #be more chill musical #be more chill fanfic #gerard canonico #rich goranski #bmc rich #be more chill rich #reeses cups #canonicups #why the fuck did i write this #lacydoesherbest

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sheriff-caitlyn · 2 years ago

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The Tour: part 4

It is unusual for a funeral to have such an air of expectation.

The walls of Piltover - less than a decade old, built out of precaution and mountain-stone - are growing larger in view ahead. The bridges and gardens are growing more defined, and the procession will soon pass into the outer limits of Piltover City.

There are more officers present, now. They line the roads, batons and crossbows lowered but their hands ready, their eyes on the cart, on the tall figure who walks with the funeral procession and on the even taller construct venting steam beside him. The impromptu honour guard of Noxian soldiers are there to maintain the peace, also, marching in precise formation around the cart. Viktor and Blitzcrank are Zaunite citizens, and these Noxian soldiers have a contract to keep such citizenry safe.

Caitlyn feels her vision constricting, until all she can see is the towers in the middle of the city, to the Hall of Four Winds, where the cart is bound. The sun is starting to set. The tour must end before nightfall. They have to keep moving. But no-one wants the Machine Herald in the city. No-one wants a Zaunite - let alone one of his reputation - to cross the bridge and enter Piltover proper.

Limits. Everywhere, limits.

The cart pulls up before the bridge, as William regretfully bars the way. He holds no weapon, but he doesn’t need one. He’s an officer, he has authority; he’s a Brigham boy, and he has the Blood. “Shirra. Nae further, fer a mo’.”

Vi hops down from the cart, fists clenched. “Th’fuck is this?”

“Y’know we cannae let him in.” He looks towards Viktor. “Public safety.”

“He’s with us,” Vi says, her voice a growl. “He’s with Mum.”

Caitlyn feels the weight of Piltover’s public safety on her shoulders again, pressing what little air there is in her lungs out of it. She feels her face pinching, those tears welling, threatening to start spilling again. She has to agree with the policies that she put into place. She has to tell Viktor to leave, that he cannot be welcome here.

Blitzcrank shifts forward. “MY CREATOR AND I HAVE COME TO PAY RESPECTS TO TRISHA LITTLEFORD HUXLEY THE PROFESSOR AND TECHMATURGIST. SHE WAS KIND TO ME. I AM A PILTOVIAN CITIZEN, I HAVE THE RIGHT TO ENTER.”

“That y’do, saer, but -- ”

“IF MY CREATOR STAYS WITH ME, AS WE PAY OUR RESPECTS, WILL THAT NOT BE SUFFICIENT?”

Vi looks ready to deck her fellow officer across the face. “You want an officer on his tail, huh? Will that be enough?”

“He cannae enter, Vi, y’know that.” He’s apologetic but firm. A proper protector of the peace. No exceptions can be made: that’s how Caitlyn and her team keep Piltover safe.

The rest of the Huxley clan climb down from the cart. Elliot is protesting the holdup. The cat yowls, hackles rising, and the bullocks shift impatiently. Aaron is fighting his grief and demanding the cart just go. Vi is leading up to saying something worse than confrontational to William, spoiling for a fight. Blitzcrank is being loud, in voice and in vents of steam, refusing to leave Viktor and refusing to go home without seeing this through to the end. Caitlyn feels choked on what she knows she has to say, what she has to do, torn between being the sheriff and being a daughter. Silently, Viktor looks at her, unmoving and masked; he wants to just leave, perhaps, to avoid this matter entirely, but he cannot look away from her. Will she betray him, too?

In the midst of rising voices and rising tension, a wind blows, a sudden puff that could be an exasperated sigh. It’s cold, and there’s something in it that makes the family pause, frozen, and then they sigh together, united. Even those standing in the circle and beyond feel it, the way the tension is immediately shunted away. An answer has been provided, a solution to a problem; there’s always a solution.

It’s a silent agreement, shared between the five who rode on the cart. But it’s Aaron who takes a deep breath and shares the decision. “Blitzcrank. You come with us. Cait--”

She nods. She steps closer to Viktor, her heels snapping together in salute as she takes her place at his side.

“-- you come back for the midnight watch, but you stay here with Viktor. S’at okay, kiddo?”

Caitlyn nods. She has stood guard over her mother before the tour; Trisha and Caitlyn’s relationship was often marked with time apart, so it would not be too much of a grand breach of tradition.

Vi gives her partner a pained look - Piltover’s Finest doesn’t like to be split up - but the Enforcer knows the reasoning why. She smiles, or attempts to, in order to give Caitlyn’s wavering expression some kind of support. “Ain’t no-one better to keep everyone safe, Cupcake.” Everyone. Not just Piltover. “I’ll have you a tea ready. Or a coffee, if you need it.”

“Thank you.” Quiet. Strained. Genuine.

Aaron takes a steadying breath, galvanised for a moment. He looks at Viktor. “Thank you for comin’. I’m sorry you can’t come further, but... I’m glad you came this far, son.”

Blitzcrank looks to Viktor. “ARE YOU COMFORTABLE TO STAY UNDER GUARD WITH THE SHERIFF, CREATOR?”

Viktor shifts. “Will you be safe?” His words are strained, too, the idea that he might lose Blitzcrank a second time clearly forefront in his mind, the grief of the family an uncomfortable atmosphere, Caitlyn standing by his side like a friend rather than a bodyguard.

“WILL YOU?” Blitzcrank looks at Caitlyn, pointedly. He barely knows her, after all, and she is the one in charge of all these officers with batons and crossbows and rifles. Even dressed in mourning black, she is still the Sheriff of Piltover.

Vi flexes to answer Viktor’s question. “Anyone tries to step to him’s gonna answer to Law...” She turns and flexes her other arm. “... an’ Order.”

Elliot gently shoves the woman, a playful push that ends in a half-hug as the grief settles back around the lot of them. “The funeral’ll end before midnight. We’ll make sure your brass boy comes back to you.” He looks at Caitlyn, then at Viktor again. “I think you can trust my sister, yeah?”

Viktor considers the questions and offered statements. Then, stiffly, he nods. It might be the best that Piltover can offer him. He’s already come so far; he’s already been shown more kindness than anyone might have expected.

Aaron offers his hand to shake, once more. The left, this time, flesh and blood in the Zaunite style. Viktor shakes, his gaze drawn to the intricacies of Aaron’s right hand. There is no time to talk about this; no time, no place, no Trisha. But they have met, at last, the two of them, and it was well.

“We will wait at Baker’s Hill.” Caitlyn gestures to the landmark, not too far parallel to them: the tree, the bench, the small hilltop. There, she and Viktor will be well within view. Any threat the Machine Herald might pose will be neutralised by her authority, and the space between the hill and the city walls.

Most of the family climb back into the cart. The officers step aside to let it pass, then fall into place as honour guard. Caitlyn stands at stiff attention, watching them go. Her shoulders shake. Her expression wavers.

Viktor watches Blitzcrank raise a hand in brief farewell, before the construct follows the cart across the bridge. He continues to watch, stiff and still, as the train of mourners begin to file past himself and Caitlyn. No doubt he can feel the distrustful incredulous glances, the crowd’s confusion about why Caitlyn would put herself at risk, to leave herself with the danger that is the Machine Herald. Maybe he even sees Jayce, in the crowd, at the head of the procession, moving in a stiff way, bearing consequence and inaction on his broad shoulders.

Caitlyn’s shoulders shake. She’s breaking. She has to keep the peace, and enforce the laws she helped to write. “To Baker’s Hill,” she says, quietly. She puts a hand on Viktor’s arm, and together they turn away and make for the gentle slope. She’s shaking and her face is pinching and bending, more tears spilling down her cheeks. She will deal with the fallout of this decision another time, when the funeral is over and she has the presence of mind to explain the authority she bears.

She feels Viktor’s third arm flick, then feels his cloak lightly twitch across her back, shielding her somewhat from the eyes of those below. She hums, shakily, quiet gratitude. She doesn’t have the willpower for anything else.

They both turn to watch the procession, when they reach the top of the hill. The skies are darkening. The star-rods of Piltover are flaring to brightness as the shadows lengthen. The cart went its ways through the old stone streets, heading for its final destination, as tens of thousands of Piltovians come to mourn. The city is so bright, and there are glimpses of leaves and vines in every refraction, in the gleams of light that reach and linger in the low clouds like a gentle aurora borealis.

“Everything Mother does,” Caitlyn says, her voice level and even, watching the lights, “Is to make the world a brighter place.”

Does, did. Is, was.

Caitlyn doubles over, all but collapsing onto the park bench with her head between her knees, as all the grief she restrained now pours out of her.

#dadeni days #coming to a close #trisha #aaron #elliot #caitlyn #vi #viktor #blitzcrank #piltover builder #william #death

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