#maybe the suit works the same way as feathers

[amazon-did-nothing-wrong]

If Condorman is actually a bird would touching his cape wings make him sexually frustrated

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.” 

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.” 

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely. 

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”   

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook? 

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?” 

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks. 

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.” 

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark. 

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits. 

Even the drinks are licentious. 

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony. 

Wouldn’t that be a sight. 

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand. 

“What is it?” 

“Probably bourbon.” 

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“ 

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight. 

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down. 

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones. 

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles. 

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one. 

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight. 

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow. 

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver. 

 “Like, the mafia?” 

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry. 

The 141. 

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know. 

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death. 

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood. 

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool. 

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two. 

Which way? 

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard. 

Is this the bathroom? 

It must be. 

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then- 

rips. 

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name. 

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent. 

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke. 

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles. 

He has a gun. 

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly. 

Obviously, you’re interrupting something. 

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?” 

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically. 

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear. 

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up. 

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back. 

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response. 

“We are now.” 

[heck-theo]

Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

[goingmerryfics]

❤️ Your Blog. Can I request something? 🙏 Id love about Law and reader who is very affectionate and caring, e.g. brings him snacks in his office when he's working late, cheers him up when he is upset. All in all reminds Law alot of Cora.

Kind and caring S/O w/ Law

Content: Gender Neutral reader, SFW!

Notes* I love this idea! I got a lot of good ideas when I sat down to write this and it all pretty much amounts to “this man truly needs a break.” which means I went a little haywire with it. Spoilers for Dressrosa/Law's backstory

Happy reading :)

Law

Dating you was absolute bliss for Law

If he was shut up in his room working, he knew he could count on you to come visit eventually

Even if, after responding to your knocking and saying that he was busy, you still enter

You’ve got some lemon water and specially made Onigiri by your own hand all set up pretty in a tray

He tries not to smile too much while you set it down, kiss the top of his head, and quietly urge him to take a break- or at least stand and stretch because how he’s sitting can’t be good for his posture

Normally he wouldn’t pay that any mind, but you had an effect on him that he couldn’t explain. You gave him a special sort of feeling in his heart- a feeling that only one other person had ever given him in his entire life

Law gets up to stretch and to reach for you, that way he can press a kiss to your cheek and tell you he loves you

You’ve noticed he’s softer around you, though he never could quite tell you why

You also notice that whenever you two are sitting close or lying together, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing- he likes to look into your eyes as much as he can

He can’t explain it- it doesn’t matter that your eyes aren’t exactly the same colour as his. They’re kind, they’re caring, just like he is

One day, the heat on the submarine gives out and you seek Law out to ask a favour

“One of my sweaters? Yeah, you can borrow one. Just don’t ruin it.”

The warning means nothing, he knows you wouldn’t destroy any of his things on purpose

So you head for his room while he returns to helping the others fix the heat, shivering in your suit

Law’s room is an organized mess of books, clothes and sheets. He was never the type to keep anything clean for too long, but then again he was a busy man. You didn’t mind it, but you do know how he appreciates it when you can help him out with the little things. First, a sweater. You swear that you’re about to start seeing your breath from how cold it’s getting.

You dive into his closet and sort through his things for that yellow one you like, when you notice something interesting. Something hung up, obviously important since it’s in one of those zippable clothing protectors. A suit, maybe?

The thought of Law in a suit makes you squeal a bit. Now you have to see it.

Carefully, you take the hangar out and your first remark is at how incredibly light it is. It’s not heavy enough to be a full suit set, so you start to unzip it to satisfy your curiosity.

A few loose, black feathers hit the ground before you can figure out what you’re looking at. It’s a full feather coat. It looks like it’s been tailored- the collar has been cautiously cut with a loving hand, which makes you remember the strangely similar style of feather collar on his blue sweatshirt. There are also some messy holes in the back of it.

You hum curiously, and put it back into the protector bag for the time being. Then you grab the sweater you’d come here for, take the hangar, and bring the coat with you back to your room.

The heat returns. Heart Pirates huddle around the heat and try to warm up quickly, but Law has a better idea in mind on how to warm up. He also just really wants to see you in his clothing. But he spots something as he’s headed down the hall that makes his heart drop. A single black feather.

He’s wearing his blue sweater and he hasn't touched the coat. So why…

He rushes first to his room, throws the closet door open and his eyes widen at the missing coat, so he makes a B-Line for your room

It’s not that he thought you would wreck it, but it’s something he’d rather keep safe. Those feathers fell off every time he touched it, and he wanted so desperately to preserve the last item he’d ever have of his beloved Corazon.

When he reaches your room, he barges right in without knocking and finds you holding it up, looking it over. Your room is a mess of loose thread. Your desk has sewing scissors and a little ball with various sized sewing needles poking out of it, and your sewing machine is on.

“See?” You hold it up to him, showing off your handiwork. Slack-jawed, he scans over the once bullet holes that have now been expertly closed and repaired. “I’ve never seen you wear this, but I guess it’s because all those feathers kept falling off, right?”

He’s silent, but he knows just what he wants to say. It just takes him a moment.

“Law?” You ask, smile falling a bit, thinking maybe you’d done something wrong.

“Put it on.”

“Huh?” You take another good look at the coat. “You sure?”

He nods, and watches how you pull it over your shoulders. It’s way too big for you- did a damn giant wear this!? -but you still strike a pose, holding up a peace sign next to your face for Law and grinning wide.

“Do I look good?”

He takes a few steps forward. You open your eyes again and get the quick glimpse of tears in his eyes before he pulls you in for a hug tight enough to crack your spine. You can hear his quiet sobs and gasps in your ear, and it breaks your heart to think that maybe you’d done something wrong.

But he whispers that he loves you, and then he whispers it 3 more times just to be sure. You tell him you love him too, and he takes a deep breath to pull himself together.

“Are you ok, Law?” You ask, eyes glued to him. “I can put it back if-”

“No, just…” He wipes his face, then takes your hands. “I think there’s someone I’d like to tell you about.”

[elenthyaolyenths]

I couldn't decide on where to begin, so thank you all by advance for your help! Please reblog so everyone can see it! The winner of this poll will become one of my top priorities during November.

↓LONG POST under the cut! I describe each WIP with pictures and I explain what I would like to do.↓

Tell me in comments/reblogs what you would like to see for these WIPs!

Num. 1: "Please", inspired by David Tennant Richard II Kiss

"Please" is the first part of a diptych. Published as a simple WIP in December 2023, it became for no apparent reason (lol) one of my most famous posts on Tumblr. I have always wanted to full-colour it, but I was feeling so much pressure about this one that I didn't dare to try. And then Time has passed...

I have changed a lot of things in my art practice. Different brushes, different lines, and so when I'll work again on "Please", I already know that I'll have to redo all the lineart - that's ok, it's one of my favorite tasks. I will improve Aziraphale's expression and draw more details on his Archangel suit. Crowley with his dark waistcoat (ngk) and his gorgeous black wings will probably stay the same, even if I'll redo all his lineart so they'll complete each other perfectly. And, of course, full-colour... Teehee.

Num. 2: "...Again." (inspired by David Tennant Richard II Kiss)

"...Again" is the second part of my "Richard II Kiss" diptych. So much potential in Aziraphale's wings, as he literaly lauches himself into Crowley's arms! And how I love the way Crowley embraces him like nothing else matters. I'll have to do all the lineart for this one, and I'm so glad about it, because I guess I have changed and improved my lineart skills these last months, and "Again" is the perfect challenge for proving it to myself.

Num. 3 "Bliss", one of my favourite Red Art Sketches! But...

Achieved on the 29 of January, 2024, "Bliss" is a Daily Challenge sketch, so time completion = less than 2 hours. I love the emotion and the movement in this one, but I have always wanted to come back to it and take my time, in order to draw a cleaner and more detailed version, probably in full-colour. The potential of Crowley's wings is phenomenal (I'm so much more skilled now about drawing wings), and his expression is wonderful. Maybe I'll change a little bit the lineart so we could see Aziraphale's embrace on Crowley - tenderness and passion all the way, always.

Num. 4 "Falling Starmaker" - "If Only I could have been there for you"

"Aziraphale saw the Starmaker's Fall, but didn't (couldn't) intervene. 6 thousand years later, he still regrets. He should have been there for him."

I dearly love this headcanon about Aziraphale, and I like to imagine that he would still dream about saving the Starmaker from his Fall. Not because he prefers Crowley as an angel (Damn, NO), but because he learnt to know Crowley throught the ages. And since he saw how much Crowley has suffered, after 6000 years, Aziraphale would do anything for relieving Crowley of thepast and the pain.

The lineart here is quite ok but needs to be redone so it would be more appropriate for a full-colour rendering. I really want to work on highlights and rendering effects for this one, so the movement of the Fall would be preserved. And I'll work on details like burnt feathers, Crowley's hair and Aziraphale's saddened eye.

Num. 5: "Eden" or "Take me back to Eden"

Since my first reading of "Anatomy 1.0.1", a Rating E fanfiction written by Fyre, I have a thing for them already together in the Garden of Eden. So of course, a kiss on the wall (again), but with their wings apparent this time!!!

I gave up this one in April after trying to full-colour it (that was... hideous.) Now that I have a better idea of how to handle full-colour, I need to come back to it. This one will be a peaceful, innocent fluffy scene. With Crowley's proud wings casting a soft shadow on them, probably, and his gorgeous hair flowing like fire and gold over Aziraphale. A lazy and tender moment in the Garden of Eden, when everything seemed simpler...

Ooooouf you did it! You know everything! So, which one you prefer? What would you want to see in it when it's achieved? Reblog/comment and tell me everything, I'm curious!!!

Thanks to you all, love you!!!

Linktree - Tumblr Masterpost

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[joannasteez]

edge

pairing: cody rhodes x black reader warning: its just smut yall. cody is fully my man my man my man so imma just post this here. cody girls come get your juice and minors please do not interact. word count: 975

warm thick air, pulsing to life with an unadulterated lust. your tongue slipping over your kiss swollen lips, the dampened slope of your back arching. breaths shallow and the heat in your belly threatening to end itself with a great bursting.  you groan, out of desperation, out of madness, out of pleasure. a raspy "fuck", that assaults the air. cuts into the thick of it. and the trembling in your thighs is vicious. ill-controlled. suffering under the weight of his palms but reduced to tremblings all the same. the muscles there aching and worn by the prying he's taken to them. 

and he is relentless. cody is relentless. tender lips and his tongue even more so. pursing to kiss at your clit, catching it up in the seam of them before his tongue meets the swollen bud to do a pleasured sort of violence. 

"i'm sorry". 

something pretty and faint and begging. like the easy floating of a feather daring to disturb the air. 

your nails roughing into already disarrayed sheets. clawing and palming till your fingers are digging inward to fist at the cool white linen. this chill that courses about, rippling till it pulses your core, a warning of its own. the edge just where release is sweetest, is near enough to feel, palpable and scorching. but he won't let you have it. won't let the heat dissipate from skin and bones. not till the satisfaction in him pools over to drown out the grudge stuck to the width of his patience.

but maybe you deserved this, having been so risky earlier. the way the slow stubborn dragging of your nails had run into the strength of his leg. more teasing than sharp, and of course, you'd chosen a pretty powered blue to match the color of his suit and tie. coaxing a rushing in his blood. and your warm palm had slipped over his pants till they played against his inner thigh, inching closer to the heat of his crotch till you caressed and kneaded under the white cloth of the table. working him to life as you went about the evening. laughing and chatting and socializing with others at the restaurant dinner table. 

it'd been a game for you. touching him and abandoning him. testing the limits of his poker face. 

and when his lips had met the curve of your ear, breaths heavy and uneven, you just knew you'd had him where you wanted him. full of need and bordering desperate.

"are you having fun?" 

"yes".

your teeth take a coy tensing to your lip. his eyes blue and hot and vengeful. mouth kissing at your cheek. 

"good". his perfect teeth baring for a smile. in a fashion that others would deem warm. but you knew him well enough to know that it was all show. "have it now. you wont be able to later". 

and he's made every word of his true. slipping wet over your skin with his lips and his tongue and the pinch of his teeth. teasing and building till pleasure simmered to a boiling. 

"what happened to the fun you were having?" 

his words mocking and the pull of his thumbs against your lower lips invasive and exposing. your pussy pulsing, feening to cling to anything as he takes the time to stare down at his handy work. slick glistening strings of spit and arousal, a lustful mixing as it slips slow over your opening to soak into the sheets. and his breath is hot against the fat of your swollen clit. his wet drooling tongue flicking over till your hips attempt to rut into his mouth. and his tie still wraps about his collar, loosened and sullied by wrinkles. his suit jacket somewhere strewn across the floor along with his shoes. because thats all he could suffer long enough with before pushing your legs to spread open and over. 

and he speaks with a mix of taunt and fascination. cock hard, pulsing in his pants. a terrible ache that nearly spins his head. "you always get so greedy. so wet. so desperate". 

his fingers, gripping into your supple flesh, grows tight. a groan breaking from him into your skin as he takes to sucking at you again. face burying further till his tongue is stroking pass your lush entrance. feeling the desperate cling of your pussy, and the deep trembling in your body. soft whines and whimpers, shuddered breaths and crying pleads. an urgency fighting its way about, slipping under hot near burning skin, pushing into your fingers till you're clawing through blonde hair and nailing into the roots. 

and he keeps you here. spread and messy. laboring through the build of release again. his tongue taking to a deft, artful fucking. thumb soaked as he presses it to your clit. curls in to rub hastily. and the song of pleasure is terribly amorous. silence of the air arrested by your begging and his relentless mouth squelching as it feeds in to savor the drip of your arousal. 

it's so close, you can feel it settling heavy into your body. a pressure great enough to create diamonds. 

cody moans. somewhat delirious. his mouth and his touch switching. licking a flat broad strip as his thumb pushes in to stroke through the tight clutch of your heat. 

a tear slips into the sheets. your hips rutting mindless. fingers pulling and pinching at your breast till your nipples catch. the taut skin sensitive and ridden with an aching that begs silently to be relieved. 

and of course, when you teeter over the edge, body rife with pleasure, the sweet torture of him abandons you. neglects you to tremble and pulse desperate. left only with the faint simple kisses of his mouth as he waits with a statues patience for your body to settle into dissatisfaction once more.  

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Ruffling Feathers

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist

Summary: "It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass." OR You hated Rooster. And his mustache. ...Until he made it hard to.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers. Arguing. Quite a bit of swearing. Flirting. Jealousy. Depictions of a plane crash and hospital room. Some angst, some comfort, some suggestiveness, and lots of fluff.

*Reader's callsign is Spider

A/n: Guess I just love writing angry!Rooster lol. This one took me a little bit, but I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for reading <3

--

Stomping through the corridor, your flight suit pushed down to your waist, you tried calculating how hard you’d have to punch Rooster to knock that ugly mustache off his face —- or at least the stupid smug grin he always wore. Maybe Cyclone would only give you a lecture since you’re doing everyone a favor by shutting Rooster up.

The pain from digging your fingernails into your palm did nothing to distract you from the anger rising through your body. Just when you’d get the fastest time on the team, there he’d be climbing from his plane with a time just barely beating yours. You’d answer one of Cyclone’s questions in class only for Rooster to correct you on the most insignificant detail — all with that shit-eating smile.

He was a careful pilot, one that didn’t always act on impulse. But he threw all of that out the window when it came to you, clogging the comms with his amused comments to throw you off concentration. You didn’t take that lying down, either. 

But today, the back-and-forth bickering came with a cost. He’d been in the middle of throwing an insult your way, even though you were on the same team, when Coyote shouted through the comms at him.

“You’re down.”

His only response came with a string of swears.

Phoenix quickly followed with, “Got you too, Spider” as she locked onto your jet too. Her words had you dropping your head back against the seat, realizing Rooster came last with you just barely above him.

All that fighting had thrown you off, making both of your flying sloppy. You told him as much on the tarmac as you both completed 100 push ups for coming out at the bottom. As a burn bled through your arms, you considered strangling Rooster. Maybe when he wasn’t looking, like in the shower. Not that you often thought of him showering.

But now, walking toward the locker room, your anger began to subside — despite the sweat dripping along the side of your face and your aching arms. But any hope for peace shattered when you rounded the corner, nearly bumping into Rooster. 

A scowl immediately overtook your expression as you stepped back, taking in his form — already clean and sweat-free. It only fueled the explosive fire inside you. “Watch where you’re going, Bradshaw,” you told him.

“You should’ve listened to that advice in the air today, sweetheart,” Rooster shot back, his gaze locked on you. He had slicked back his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet.

You crossed your arms, accidentally making your slick skin stick together. “Oh, eat shit. You sabotaged me on purpose today.”

“Oh, so trying to save your ass is sabotage now?” He lifted an eyebrow, that frustrating glint in his eyes.

“God, you just never shut up, do you? Clearly, ‘saving my ass’ didn’t work, did it? And maybe if you stopped talking for one minute, I could actually focus on flying instead of wishing my plane would ram into yours.”

“Me?” Rooster nearly shouted, his jaw ticking. He stepped just an inch closer when you nodded as if it were obvious. “You’re the one that kept saying I couldn’t fly for shit, and look who actually can’t.”

“It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass. And that was only because you kept calling me an asshole,” you told him, now pointing a finger right into his chest.

He scoffed at you. “Oh, and I wonder why I’d ever say something like that, Spider.”

With how close his face was to yours now, you could pick out the pool of colors in his eyes or count the freckles across his tanned cheeks. And before another retort could come to mind, the sound of someone coming toward the two of you echoed from the other end of the hall.

You broke away from him, telling yourself that your quickened pulse came from how infuriated Rooster made you. “Whatever,” you muttered, sidestepping him and making the rest of the walk to the locker room, your heart in your throat the entire way.

Ripping your flight suit off and finally getting clean, even with shaky arms, you finally took a slow breath. Your fingers rubbed down your face as water from the showerhead dripped along your body. You scrubbed until your skin grew angry with you — but you just let the water wash away the day, the setbacks, and any thoughts of Rooster, promising yourself that you wouldn’t let him get the better of you again.

And you’d kept your word for a little bit, biting your tongue when he tried to get under your skin. Turning the other way when Hangman joined it to revel in the teasing. Instead, you let Phoenix rip him to shreds when they got on her nerves too. Things quieted down even — hallway spats became silent head nods as you passed one another. You’d call that a win, especially since his mouth stayed shut.

It certainly became easier to tune him out when flying, just focusing on you and the plane speeding through the air. Hangman gave an instigating laugh, but all you saw was the course to run. Breathe in, breathe out. You were a good pilot.

And when you came back down, Cyclone congratulated you on getting the fastest time of the day. You nearly waited for the inevitable “But…” that followed after Rooster, but it never came. Instead, you were met with a pat on the back from Bob and Phoenix and no extra push ups for the day. 

Your body felt lighter as you walked to the locker room, back to your room, and even all the way to The Hard Deck. Fresh and wearing clothes that actually fit well, you entered arm-in-arm with Phoenix to the bar.

You two ordered drinks, chatting with Penny as the place grew busier as the night passed along. She quickly became too distracted to keep talking, but you just sipped on your drink, enjoying the good mood. More pilots arrived, giving you the chance to talk with them in between turns at the pool table. 

Coyote even convinced Bob to a game, goading the rest of you into placing bets. The laughter and smiles between everyone brought a glow to your vision. You and Phoenix were the only ones to bet on Bob winning, but it was worth it for his wide grin.

And despite Rooster also showing up, in that horrible Hawaiian shirt of his, you still managed to avoid him and keep civil. He didn’t even try to instigate anything — though that didn’t stop you from looking away any time he caught your eyes on him. But the competitive game going on proved distraction enough.

Coming down to the final shot, the game had every pilot leaning in. Several of them threw comments out to distract Bob as he lined up his shot. But a smile broke out on your face as Bob sunk the 8 ball, beating Coyote, and leaving both of them with looks of complete disbelief. 

You threw up your hands, clapping louder than all the booing. Others eventually joined in despite their losing bets, cheering for Bob’s unexpected victory. The way Coyote shook his head had you giggling until your stomach hurt. 

You gave a congratulatory pat on Bob’s shoulder as you thanked him for the money he won you. Collecting the pool of cash along with Phoenix, you told her, “Going to head to the bar, spend my winnings on another drink.”

She gave you a smile before you weaved through the crowd. Over the cheers and music, you asked Penny for another drink as you counted up your winnings. Plenty happy with the amount, you waited, turning around and resting your body back against the bar’s edge. The bubbling warmth never left your body when you hung out like this. Though a voice to your side broke you from the moment.

“You can put that drink on my tab, actually. Thanks.”

Turning, you were met with a handsome man you hadn’t seen here before. As Penny handed you your drink, you gave her a gracious nod. 

“Thank you, um…”

“Will,” he answered for you with a smile. And he certainly did have a nice smile. “To celebrate your victory.” He nodded toward the pool table, raising a beer to your drink.

“Well, he did all the work,” you laughed, leaning forward just an inch, though it was enough to pick up on the comforting scent coming from Will. You happily took a sip along with him.

“But you were smart enough to bet on him.”

A smile broke out on your face, gesturing out a hand as you said, “See! Finally, someone recognizes my gambling prowess.”

He bit back a grin of his own as he leaned his head in closer. His finger pointed toward the pool table again as he asked, “Alright, so since you’re an expert, who’s going to win the next one?”

You felt the heat of his body radiating onto you. The waves of it proved slightly distracting as you saw Hangman and Fanboy racking up the pool balls. Still staring at them, trying to hold back the warmth rushing to your cheeks, you said, “Tall, blond one definitely. He’ll cheat if he has to.”

“Okay, I won’t be going up against him then,” he laughed.

You turned back to Will, watching him run a hand through his dark hair. Did you wish your hand was going through his hair? Probably. 

He then asked, “Since you know how to pick winners, what are the odds of you beating me in pool?”

Raising your eyebrows, you told him, “Never seen you play, but I’d have to guess that you’d sink two in before I win.”

Lifting up his hands in surrender, Will shook his head. “Fair enough. I won’t put money on the line for that game. But…” he said, dragging his eyes across you, “what are the odds, then, of me taking you out sometime?”

You tried fighting the grin etching along your face at his cheesiness, not that you minded all that much when it came with that smile. As you were about to respond, the last person you wanted to see snuggled right up to your side.

“Hey Spider, Phoenix’s been asking for you,” Rooster said. His arm rested against the bar right behind your back, the weight of it along your spine.

You looked between him and Will, your teeth grinding together. “I’m sure she can wait a minute, Bradshaw.”

“Said it was important,” he insisted, smiling the entire time at the two of you. 

“Fine,” you muttered, offering a fake grin to Rooster. “I’ll be right back,” you told Will.

You pushed past Rooster, weaving through the crowd once again with your fist clenched. Of course he had to show up. You shook your head, willing yourself to keep him from getting to you.

Back with the team, you came back to find Hangman in the lead against Fanboy and quickly returned to Phoenix.

“Hey, what’s up? What’s going on?” you asked, hoping something terrible wasn’t happening.

But she sat there, beer in hand and a wide smile until she processed your words. “Just watching them play. What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Does it have to do with that hunk chatting you up over there… Oh, where’d he go?”

Your face twisted as you turned, standing on the tips of your toes and straining your neck to see over everyone. Right where you and Will had been was now occupied by strangers, the man nowhere to be seen. But you did find Rooster as he walked back toward your team.

“No goddamn way.” You muttered it under your breath, your face dropping in disbelief. “Hold this, I’m going to kick Bradshaw’s ass,” you told Phoenix. The blood rushing through you pounded in your ears, blocking out anything she might’ve said.

“Where is he?” you asked, venom laced in your voice as you walked up to Rooster. The laidback hang of his shoulders and that dumb fucking mustache nearly made you scream your words at him.

But Rooster just raised an eyebrow at you, holding his beer. “Where’s who?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Will. The man I was talking with before you interrupted, remember?”

“Ah, right. He left, had to go somewhere.”

“God, Rooster. What did you say to him?” you asked, shoving a finger into his chest. “Though I don’t know why I’m asking since you’ll probably lie like you did about Phoenix.” You crossed your arms, squeezing them against your body.

Rooster sighed, bringing his beer up to his mouth to take a sip. 

“Look, I’ve seen him around here before. Goes home with someone different every time.”

Scoffing at him, you stared daggers through his eyes. “You’re so full of bullshit. Even if that is true, I can find that out for myself, okay? You’re not my dad or something.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to save you from getting your feelings hurt,” he said, pretending to put his hands in the air like he was innocent. “God knows how bad we’d crash and burn if your heartbroken ass did worse up there.” 

You stepped back, feeling like he knocked the air from your lungs. Pushing past him, your shoulder hitting his, you left The Hard Deck — not even to find Will. You couldn’t handle either of them right now, not when you had to deal with Rooster ruining your night while pretending to care about you.

After that, for your sake, you’d made it your mission to stay away from him as much as possible. You refused to acknowledge his comments or even look his way. Classes were quieter, and insults were no longer thrown across the halls at each other. At least you wouldn’t be misplacing your trust again.

You had other teammates you could rely on, could trust with your life. But either fate hated you or Cyclone loved drama because he paired you up with Bradley Bradshaw once again — as if the universe and the class had to have another laugh at your misery. You just nodded your head at Cyclone as he named the two of you off, standing so still as if it could help you disappear.

Talking rose again as duos came together to discuss the practice exercise. But not the two of you. Your hard stare just fixated on the horizon. Even hearing him clear his throat set your body on edge.

“I’m, uh, sorry for how last weekend went,” Rooster offered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, not needing it to cause a lecture from Cyclone on how to work with your teammates. Your refusal to give an answer left a space of buzzing silence, one that Rooster filled again. “Didn’t mean to sabotage it, but I’m not letting a dickhead mess with my friends, alright?”

“Friends?” you asked, finally turning to look at him. “Is that what we are, Rooster?”

“Look, we’re on a team. We watch each other’s backs.”

A scoff escaped under your breath. “Oh, like when you got the both of us killed the last time we were on a team?”

As the words left your lips, Rooster placed his hand on your shoulder. The grip made you look at him straight, the sound of everyone else drifting to the background. “I never tried to sabotage you up there. I really tried to save your life. Okay?” His fingers squeezed when you didn’t answer. “Okay?”

With scrunched eyebrows, you said, “Okay, fine. Doesn’t mean you don’t flood the comms with useless talking to distract me, though.”

As his hand dropped back to his side, he raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh, so I’m distracting to you?” And there it was, that Bradshaw smug grin back in place. A small part of you in the back of your mind, or the left side of your chest, had missed it.

You weakly pushed against his arm, shaking your head. “I’m going to rip your mustache off.”

Cyclone called you all to start the exercise, the two of you among the first up. As you walked to your jets, Rooster said, “Oh, so you’re thinking about my mustache now? I understand, she is a beauty.”

You let out a long groan while fighting back a smile, which he absolutely saw through, before pulling on your helmets. Climbing into the plane and strapping in, you let the few moments of silence before flying into the sky center yourself again — to not let Rooster, good or bad, get in your head.

It was a regular dogfighting exercise, one that’d become part of the curriculum since Maverick came through. But it’d be you and Rooster against Hangman and Payback.

In the air, before it even began, in the buzzing quiet before it all descended into chaos, Hangman flew past you much too close for comfort. It shook your jet, making you let out a long sigh. You looked to your side, watching Rooster give you a thumbs up before Cyclone appeared in the comms. 

“First team to get a lock on both members of the other team wins. That easy,” he told you all.

That easy. They were good pilots, you all were. It’d be a long fight.

Immediately, you and Rooster split off in opposite directions. He climbed higher toward Hangman as you dropped, aiming for Payback’s jet.

Payback broke left, rolling his plane to the side as he evaded you. The world around you, the wispy clouds and landscape below, blurred past. Each time you came close to locking on, he’d pitch up or hit the throttle — always keeping you just out of reach.

“Spider, Hangman’s closing in on your six,” Rooster said through the comms.

In an instant, all of your focus on trying to eliminate Payback now switched to evading in any way you could.

“Almost got you now, Spider…” you could hear Hangman say. Your jaw clenched, your muscles squeezing harder with each passing second.

Braking hard, you rolled right toward the nearby cliffs, trying to keep him from locking on. You gained altitude with the little time you had of shaking Hangman for just a second, flying back around until you saw Payback in your view again.

If you went for him, Hangman would certainly be back on you in an instant.

But Rooster’s voice hit your ears. “Go for it.”

With those three little words, you threw your trust into Rooster. You sped up, diving for Payback and leaving Rooster to cover you. And he did. Without a second thought.

“Got lock.”

“You’re down!”

Your voice mixed with Hangman’s, two simultaneous kills. Hangman left Payback at your mercy. Rooster sacrificed himself to Hangman.

“See you back at base, Spider. Give him hell,” Rooster said, his jet peeling off and heading in the opposite direction alongside Payback’s.

You pulled up, looking all around for Hangman — until he showed up on your radar just below you.

“It’s almost too easy,” he drawled with that lazy laugh. 

Hitting the brakes, you pulled behind him. Just as you angled down, close to locking on, he rolled left, pitching the plane up and trying to loop behind you.

The two of you switched back and forth, the unrelenting sun piercing through the glass. Sweat began to bead along your forehead, dripping down to your neck.

Only once you’d chased Hangman toward the cliffs did you gain any sort of hope of taking him down. His flying became just a bit more reckless, giving you a chance to counter his maneuvers. Your lock grew closer and closer to his jet, your victory on the tip of your tongue.

The lock sound began to buzz as you said, “Got y-”

Your plane shook as something rammed into your plane. Only once Hangman’s voice shouting “Bird strike!” did you register what happened. 

The damage done to your jet’s engines appeared at once, the jerking of your jet ate down to your core.

 “Left engine out,” you panted, pressing the button to cut fuel to it as you tried gaining altitude. Your body felt heavy, falling back into the seat with panicked breaths. The right engine quickly caught too, leaving your dashboard blinking every warning light it could manage. Your stomach climbed into your throat as you lost control, the plane beginning to spin out.

Your hands shakily wrapped around the ejection handle, your lungs feeling squeezed tight. Pulling as hard as you could, your seat flew from the jet. Between the jerk of your body as the parachute released and the fiery crash of your plane into the ground a few moments later, you barely saw anything before hitting the desert all too fast.

You vaguely remembered rolling, or maybe the world was spinning, before you were consumed by darkness.

–

In flashes of memories, you caught the intense whirring of a helicopter, vague shapes of people rushing around you, and… was that Rooster? You couldn’t be sure, not when the pain took hold of your body, pulling you down under again.

–

The echoing emergency alarms of your jet slowly bled into the beeping of medical machines, the light of the sun into bright fluorescents above, and the lingering voice of your team… stayed.

As your eyes fought to open, the world came into focus in bits and pieces. Your throat felt so dry and painful — but it left your mind when the aching of the rest of your body rose to the surface. The groan tumbling from your mouth only fueled the sting.

But he did help, ready at your side and telling you to take it easy.

“Hey, Spider. Slow down. Hey,” Rooster pleaded, his voice desperate against your ears. But only once his hand gingerly wrapped around yours did you finally stop fighting.

You turned to look at him, mind still fuzzy. But it wasn’t hard to focus on him, your gaze unable to rip away from the dark honey of his eyes. 

“Hi.” His whisper entwined around each curve of you, settling onto your skin like a blanket you never wanted to take off.

You grabbed the cup of water he handed you, gulping it down until it soothed your throat.

“Hi,” you finally returned, offering a slight smile. Laying back in the bed, feeling the slight pull of the tubes attached to your body, you asked, “So, what’s my damage?”

Your head lulled to the side, watching Rooster slightly relax at last. The clench of his jaw eased, his shoulders fell.

“Nothing that could stop you. Fractured bone here, internal bleeding there…” he joked, but his grin didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re alive. You’ll be just fine.”

That eased your nagging thoughts, though you guessed he said it for himself as much as he said it for you.

You squeezed his hand, loving the weight of it on yours. “Thank you.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, as if to say that he didn’t deserve it. “For what?” he asked, the taste of bitterness dripping from his words.

“For having my back, Rooster.”

You said it like it was the most obvious thing. It was to you. Even though he didn’t always show it in the way you’d expect, or even like for that manner, he was there.

He nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”

You would. In a heartbeat.

He whispered, “We all heard you on the radio as it happened. I made them let me on the helicopter to rescue you… Thought you were gone. Couldn’t handle it.” His hand rested over his mouth, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“I’m here, okay? You said it, I’ll be just fine,” you told him, wanting to pull him in if you weren’t stuck in this bed. But then his words registered. “Wait, you forced yourself onto the rescue helicopter? Are you insane?”

You smacked his arm, scoffing at him. You teased him, but it brought a smile to his face.

“That’s what you got from that? Okay, this is the last time I admit to caring about you,” he said behind a wave of laughter bubbling out.

Though all it did was further fuel you, bringing a disbelieving look to your face. “Oh my god, Rooster. I get it now. You were totally jealous of Will.”

“Oh god, why would I be jealous of that tool?” he groaned, pulling away from you. “I think your pain meds are too strong.”

“Calling him a tool like that is such a jealous thing to say!”

“Not if he’s actually a tool.”

You brought your hands to your lap, playing with the sheet as you said, “Wow, who would’ve thought that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw actually cared abou-”

“I know you didn’t have to do those push ups with me, Spider,” he interrupted. He looked straight at you then, not even fighting his kind smile. “That punishment was only for last place, and you didn’t get last.”

You pursed your lips, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to give him an innocent look. But you did, and you knew that he had gotten last trying to save you, even when the two of you bickered, so you paid the price with him.

His eyes softened. “I think you do. And I think that you also care more than you let on.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Rooster grabbed your hand again, his thumb rubbing along the backs of your fingers. You stared down at where your bodies intertwined as you asked, “Did you really wait here for me the whole time?”

He nodded, his swept-back hair falling forward. But at your growing smile, he warned, “Spider, don’t ruin this.”

“You’re just a big ol’ softy, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like like me.” You laughed despite the ache that came with it. It meant you were alive, after all.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he said, “I think that’s enough. You’ve ruined it. Happy now?”

“Quite.”

After a comfortable silence spread through the room, just the sounds of your breathing and the machines beeping, Rooster said, “I do like you. Hope you know that.”

The flutter in your chest spread through your body, pushing the pain to the back to be replaced by a floating feeling. You didn’t think it would take so much for Rooster to admit his feelings, but you supposed it didn’t surprise you. 

He looked to you, worry etched into the curves of his face as he waited for your response. It barely looked like he breathed, sitting frozen still until you answered.

Shaking your head, you told him, “Rooster, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m really going to rip off your mustache this time.”

A wide, toothy grin overtook his face. “There you go again about my mustache… You’re obsessed, aren’t you?” he said, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

Rooster inched closer, careful to not put any weight on you or cause any pain. “Is this okay?” he whispered against your lips.

But impatience ran through you, making you twist your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him against you. Melting into him, you thought this felt better than any painkillers the doctors could prescribe you. It made you dizzy and craving more, until you were broken apart by Phoenix obnoxiously clearing her throat from the doorway.

As he kissed you one more time, the rest of the world drifting away, you couldn’t quite say you hated his mustache anymore.

--

@reidslovely

[cattonicdragon]

could you do mantis, tigress, viper, po, shen, tai lung, kai x a white peacock reader that can manipulate all forms of physics? For reference, the White Peacock Reader has the ability to manipulate all forms of physics regardless of laws. Other have sent you this type of question, so I am sending you this type of question. And I love your stuff too.

mantis,tigress,viper,po,shen,tai lung and kai x white peacock reader who can manipulate all forms of physics

I'm glad you like my stuff! And of course I can

Not been proof read yet I just wanted to post it 😭

Mantis

He finds you beauty and grace very admirable

You fight with such ferocity and grace it's almost unbelievable

He thinks that your powers are really cool but also really scary since they dont abide to any of the laws

Meaning you can do things that shouldn't physically be possible

Thinks that your some kind of God or something,maybe you've just been blessed by the gods

Not to much sparing,he fears that hell be crushed before he can even move

He asks to trace the patterns on your feathers(if you have any patterns)

He wonders if your tail can get in the way when fighting

Your fighting style is literally drop dead gorgeous

Saw you phase through a wall once,cant unsee it

Scary for in battle but very useful as an ally

He asks if you know why your white instead of the usually colours

Very curious about you

Your very mysterious

Tigress

She finds your beauty breath taking but remembers during battle not to be distracted

Shes curious of how you got your powers,did you learn them?,if so who was your master?,were you born with them?,does it run in your family?

Lots of questions

Training constantly

You've bested her more times then she cares to admit

She'll say that you cheated

Shes not saying that because she thinks you incapable,shes just saying that to try and mend her wounded pride

Her leg has phased through you and she lost the match because her brain practically stopped working for a minute or so

She likes to stay on your good side,mainly because she genuinely fears your powers

She believes that you can control them well but the things you can do,shouldn't be humanly/animaly possible

She likes to help clean your tail if you allow her

She wonders how you can fight with such a big tail

She fears fears what people will say when she tells them she lost a match to you,so you tell her that she can say you lost sometimes

She finds it scary and impressiv how much you can do,you can control things like the weather,solid matter etc.

She asks about your origins and if there may have been a particular reason as to why you were born as a white peacock with such immense power

Viper

brought to you by the same gif,again

As a previous ribbon dancer she likes to see the art in different peopls kung fu/fighting style,which meand she loved the way you fight

Such precision and beauty

She thinks your way to overpowerd

Like if you wanted to you could legit just walk on water

Dont like cold noodles?,ok lemme just,heat that up for u rq

She likes to stay relatively on your good side

She will ask to put flowers in your feathers,if you allow her to she will be ecstatic

Such a sweet heart

If you give her a feather as a gift of luck she may just pass out

If you have any patterns on your feathers she likes to trance them with her tail or just look at it

Shes scared to get priced by your sharp talons in battle/sparing

Loves your feathers

Shes curious to your feather colour being white but wont dig or think to deep about it

She just puts it down as being an unique quality of yours

Your tail can get annoying every so often

She likes how you input your tail into your fighting style

Po

Your white feathers give him a tad bit of PTSD

He find the way you fight majestical,almost as if hes watching a play

He likes your feather and asks how you keep them so clean

He would be very hesitant with you sometimes due to the fact you remind him of someone

He thinks white suits you

Hes very surprised,fascinated and intrigued apon finding out about your powers

Your powers are like nothing hes ever seen before and he loves it

He likes to have long training sessions with you to try find a weakspot

He wants you to try teach him

Even if you tell him it's your genes and not taught he will still ask,there no hurt in trying

Liked your tail but it is very big

He likes making noodles for you both and sitting under a tree on a rainy day,knowing that your the reason your both not drenched in water

He wonders how you obtained such power and wonders what It would be like going all on out dragon warrior against you

He gets distracted by your feather alot

If you were to ever give him a feather hed treat it like a treasure that needs to be protected at any cost

Likes to watch your methods of fighting because he wants to try doing it himself

Shen

Hes rather shocked apon learning that there another white peacock

And your very powerful

In some ways hes happy that theres another peacock since he wont feel as lonely being the only white one but then again he in some ways feels like that was a huge part of his character

Apon first meeting you he gets extremely defensive and accuses you of being an imposter,even though you never said a single thing

Has alot of curiosity about your powers

Shen will try test your limits and see if you just unleash your powers out of pure emotion,he has morbid curiosity

He likes to spar ALOT

He likes to talk to you about how he created the cannons aswell as what he did to get the result

Hes very clingy and will often hang around you

Should anyone speak bad about you if you dont handle it,he will gladly

He finds a sick kind of pleasure from having so powerfull by his side

He throws firework shows for you

If you are good with close combat he will get a custom commissioned weapon of your choice for you

Tai lung

Although he finds your white feathers beautiful he also feels threatened

The pure reason for this is power

Hes been a star student for so long,the best of the best and you show up and have more power than him

Hes very stand off ish at first

He warms up to you eventually,its just a case of him getting there

He comes to find the brutality and accuracy of your fighting method

He trains with you at any given chance,hes not afraid to fight someone stronger than him and he will most likely go in blind,refusing to learn anything from his opponent

He asks if your methods can be taught and is a bit sulky if it cant

Hes not going to underestimate you by a long shot,hes more likely to overestimate you

He finds you feathers pretty and can momentarily find himself losing focus in training

If you gave him a feather he'd treat it as if it were his life sorce

He believes that when he achieves the dragon scroll you two will finally be even

Kai

Other than oogway he hasnt seen such powerful chi before

Nor has he seen the types of power you weild

Your a mystery at first,a mysterious white peacock shows up one day and has practically limitless power?

Hes going to be after your chi,no doubts

After awhile it's much like having a frenemy

"Still havnt given up your chi,(name)?""still havnt defeated oogway,kai?"

Its can go back and forth like this for a very long time,which it usually ends with you slipping through solid matter to escape

It gets to the point whether hes unsure if he still wants to take your chi

It would give him so much raw power but hes grown...fond of you

Which he hates to admit and probally wont

Once you become acquaintances tho it will turn into sparring seasons often

He brings his jombies out every so often to spice things up

He likes how smoothly you execute your kung fu moves/attacks

However in the end he still technically got what he wanted,just differently

[r0-boat]

Hear me out, flying type hybrid darling using their wings to hug their partner.

Like 'preening' their partner's hair and hiding their feathers in their partner's clothes; chirping / hooting happily when their partner come back home with hands full of their feathers like a silly game

(Can be anyone you like I just cant get this thought out my head haha)

Now I am absolutely obsessed with shipping Larry with monster reader. And when I saw Harpy reader I dived for it aaa.

The characters I will do is Larry, Warden Ingo, Leon,

Various characters (pokemon) reaction to their beloved as a flying type hybrid harpy.

Larry

You just showed up one night scratching in his back door with your sharp claws. You were looking for nesting material the day before you never asked a human for some this human seemed shocked But ultimately gave you some cloth it was strong yet soft and smelled nice. This human was nice : )

As a flying-type trainer, he knows some of the mannerisms you have. He thinks it's cute when you preen his hair or make a small nest out of his clothes because you missed him. Sometimes, he would show you how humans court and then do the same thing to you

And his coworkers and boss are none the wiser when he starts finding feathers in his suit all day. They just assumed that he had a new flying type Pokemon and not a hybrid birb spouse. Even so, coming to work covered in feathers isn't professional, but he can't bring himself to tell you to stop. He knows you're doing this out of love for him. Maybe Larry will ask you if he could wear one feather and put it in his pocket.

Your feathers are just so soft when you wrap your wings around him. He can't help but cuddle into you and fall asleep. He can feel your nails thread through his hair, mimicking the way he touches you.

Before stepping into his house, he could hear the excited tapping of your feet as you do your happy dance. The little bird hops with your feathers all fluffed before yelling his name and throwing feathers all over the place. His home life has never been this exciting, and he can't help but smile.

Warden Ingo

You struggle the flap of your wings, kicking up the snow on the ground. The Searing pain in your left wing and arm is almost overwhelming. Your energy is slowly draining as your body struggles to keep warm. Your feathery down kept you from freezing for a while, but how long will that last? Has the wind begun to pick up? You hold your broken arm close to your chest, trying to keep in your subs of pain as you huddle your wings closer together, desperate to cling to any ounce of warmth; your vision blurs and your brain tells your body to conserve energy. The only thing you saw when you began to blackout was a man in a long coat approaching.

You were protective of the man who saved your life—wrapping your wings around him not only for affection but also for protection. For some reason, this human was drawn to you. Your beautiful white wings and Feathers jogging his memory of something, though not enough to figure out why.

Every time his Warden duties called, he would leave his cabin even though he had sworn he would go you home somehow, always following him, stalking him in the distance until he was alone. Then, you would appear either from a high ledge of a cliff or a dark cave to brush yourself up against him, cooing for his affection.

Every time he falls asleep, he wakes up to his jacket being stolen and wrapped around you, not that he Minds that you wear it, though he has to tell you to be careful; those sharp talons of yours could easily rip a new hole.

The Striking eyes of his remind you of a Braviary hybrid. You can't help but Preen his hair and put some of your feathers in it. You coo in Delight of how handsome he is. Cuddling close to him and playing and tugging on his clothes.

Leon

Wherever he was, this was definitely not the Pokemon Center. In fact, this wasn't a town at all. He didn't even know how he got so high up in the mountains. Leon swore he was following a path. As he continued to wander, getting himself more and more lost, it wasn't before long that the sun began to set. Still, he took this challenge with a smile despite being low on supplies. He was in the wilderness. They're sure to be some berries somewhere. However, before the sun dipped below the horizon, he saw a blur Bolt from the tree to the dense foliage. It was like lightning, but he could have sworn he saw feathers. The figure was a human shape, a hybrid, perhaps? It stood at a distance where he could barely see it. It stood there tilting its head almost as if it wanted him to follow. As he followed the creature until they were nowhere in sight, that's when he realized he was back on the path.

Almost every encounter with you was by pure chance. You don't even know how he does it; a dumb human gets lost, and then you guide him back suddenly. A month later, he's back?! What the heck?? What is this human's deal!? is he trying to get himself killed?!

You only watch the human to make sure he doesn't get himself killed, not because you think the human is attractive. And you absolutely didn't swoon when you saw that he was wearing the feather you dropped as a necklace.

But unbeknownst to you Leon wasn't just adventuring for adventuring sake he was looking for you. Oh yes the mysterious hybrid that led him back to the path on that night he met you. Hybrids are already so rare, and when you caught his eye, he couldn't help but relive the memory. He not only wanted to meet you, but he wanted to get to know you to understand you. And you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

Even though you're instincts told you to court him as a potential mate, you knew that as a human, he couldn't be trusted, but somehow, Leon knew that , he knew that you were wary of him. He didn't blame you. How could he? Thus begins the slow build of trust and your relationship

[physics-of-one-piece]

Hello Physics! I can’t get enough of our feathered friend and would love to request Doffys Leg to torso ratio!

Thanks so much xo

I have been waiting for THIS ONE! Same here, I can never get enough of our pink feathered menace friend.

First, disclaimer. His size varies based on the panels he is in, but the most accurate ones are those from afar rather than the up-close ones.

I got a LOT of results since I used 3 panels, 2 from manga, 1 from anime.

Okay, for this we need (groans) pixels. Ugh. Ugh.

I’m not on PC right now so we’ll do it the more basic way of cutting the image into the height to fit Doffy.

Beware, most images I found of him are very very traumatic pages of the manga.

Like this one! 😊

Haha…ha… aaaaaa 😭😭😭😭

He is 254 pixels tall here. So that means 254 pixels = 305cm here.

Now we cut his torso off.

(Wheezes) Oda really fckn drew him 100% flamingo dear god.

His legs are 171 pixels. Ooh boy.

So his legs are 171 pixels tall, his upper body = 83 pixels

Hm, I can already do the ratio with this. I tried to do pixels to cm but it just wasn’t working out, even though it should have. I was getting too small numbers for his leg height in cm. So we’ll stick to pixels and then when we get the ratio & percentages, we’ll go into the cm to get his torso+leg length.

Ratio, basic one, we go:

171/83 = 2.06

83/83 = 1

So his legs to upper body ratio is 2:1.

For his torso, we gotta do his TORSO, that means waistline to shoulders.

Torso = 59 px.

So, we do same thing for legs to torso ratio.

171/59 = 2.89

Legs - Torso ratio = 2.89:1

Now we’ll go into percentages bcs I do not like ratios.

171/254 = 0.67 × 100 = 67%

Legs = 67%

Upper Body = 32.68%

For his body, it fits. The average torso length is 26-30% of a male’s height.

And NOW WE CAN GO INTO CM HALLELUYAH!

Legs = 205.36 cm

Upper Body = 109 cm

This fits. It fits for how tall Law is compared to Doflamingo, and it fits to how tall Smoker is compared to Doflamingo. Smoker’s head is reaching to Doflamingo’s stomach, and Smoker is 209 cm tall. It fits.

YES! YES! YES! HAHA! YES.

Sorry. I wanted to know how much LEGS this man has for AAAAGES. I always circled it to be 60% but by Oda… it’s a bit more.

Let's do North Blue Doffy in his Red Suit 😍

Here is North Blue Doffy. This image is a bit bigger since the panel itself was bigger. He’s 503 px tall. Yeah, I lowered his hair, he ain’t fooling his height with that updo.

Let’s see his leggies.

Legs = 301 px

(Spits out my hot chocolate) HOLY ONE PIECE.

301/503 = 59.8 %

Aaa, see here his legs are 60%. This is a more realistic proportion while still keeping his legs tall as fuck. And this was my initial guess.

Okay, 60% of 305cm is… also, before anyone says, "oh only 6% difference"… 1% of 305 is 3.05 cm. Each percent is 3.05 cm taller. Within only 3% he’s reaching 10 cm taller, and that’s nothing to scoff at — HE’S ALREADY HUGE WE DON’T NEED HIM HUGER!

183 cm

Maybe... Too short? Luffy (174cm) would then… wait.

Oh.

Hmmm…

Huh.

HUH.

HUH?!

This is getting too accurate regarding body proportions. Not surprising, since Oda uses different distances in panels to get different vibes.

This… actually fits, then? Huh.

I think Luffy needs about 10-20 cm more to be at waist height, so we should add that amount for the legs…

194-197 cm

You know what, we’ll round it up to 183 (60%)-200 cm for his leg height. My bet? Somewhere in the high 80s. Mostly because from what I think, Law (191cm) should be at his waist, Smoker (209 cm) above his waist. Did we seriously, in all of Dressrosa, NEVER get Law standing in front of Doffy with Doffy also standing? 😭🤧 If Doffy’s proportions were normal, his leg would be 50% of his height but since he has flamingo ass legs…

We gotta find Law. We gotta. (Opens my Dressrosa manga folder)

I am so sorry, Law. I am so sorry.

Final verdict.

Doffy's Leg Length: 185-205 cm

60 - 67% legs

My take… 195 cm (63% legs)

Makes Law just a tiny bit shorter and feeling small cus he could never get over Doffy’s waist - how about that trauma and feeling like he is still a kid being scolded by his captain. Haha. Ha…

I really like suffering, huh? Prob why Dressrosa is my favourite arc.

It really depends how long you wanna understand his upper body is, but I think the 2:1 ratio is fine for that.

I’m done. Doffy has huge limbs and is too tall, someone shrink him.

Wait. Wait.

FOUND YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT. THIS PIC. WE’RE USING THIS ONE.

1978 pixels tall. This time we’ll do upper body first cus big boy can’t stand normally.

His waistband is drawn taller here for the intimidation factor so we’ll follow the length of his shirt. It’s longer than his upper body so we shorten it slightly to get to the waist

Upper body = 541 px

😭😭😭 THAT GIVES HIS LEGGIES 1000+ PX 😭😭🤧🤧🤧

Legs = 1430 px

Nah, this is too much at this point. This is exaggeration. This is… (wipes nosebleed)

72% legs!

HAHAHAHA. HAHA. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO. NO!

I’m done! I’ll bleed out from my nosebleed. I need to get some bandages! Bye! Thank you for the ask!

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @ohnomyhooves (bcs I think you'll be interested)

[onceuponanotherassumption]

Black swan of the ice rink (Omota Uramichi x Figure Skater! Reader)

Masterlist

“God, she’s so beautiful!”

“Right? If I wasn’t watching her skating with my own two eyes right now, I would’ve believed it if someone told me that she was a model!”

“That’s the Ice Princess of the Rink for you, I wish I can take a photo with her.”

Uramichi is yet again witness to a group of people fawning over the very reason why he was standing in a crowded arena. He zones into the familiar figure circling around the rink. No fancy moves nor technical spins, considering it was only a warm up prior to the short program.

And as if she had sensed him, (y/n) somehow manages to find him amongst the sea of people, eyes slightly widening at her discovery. The corner of his lips involuntarily twitch at her reaction. He had told her earlier that morning before they parted ways that he was going to be late to the competition due to the director wanting them to stay behind after the shoot. (y/n) of course had been disappointed, but she understood. Work was work after all.

“I wonder what outfit she’s wearing this time? I can’t wait to see it!” The same young girl from before wonders out loud.

“She wore this pink glittery dress last time with the silver crown, it made her look like a fairy!”

Ah, Uramichi definitely remembers that particular costume. That, and every other outfit she had worn to all her previous competitions. Although it wasn’t something he would openly brag about, he always had the honour of being the first to see what (y/n) would wear. Mostly due to her wanting to hear his opinion (not that he had much to say, considering how every single outfit she wore suited her figure so well). Not to mention most of the time, her impromptu ‘fashion shows’ would lead the both of them to the privacy of his bedroom…

The sudden sound of the buzzer fills the arena, indicating that the short program was to commence soon. (y/n) breaks her gaze away from him to head over to where her trainer was waiting outside of the rink.

The crowd watches with abated breaths as (y/n) finally unzips her jacket to reveal what she was hiding underneath. A chorus of gasps and squeals fill the arena as they bear witness to what would soon be another iconic costume. Uramichi finds himself zoning out as he recalls what happened two days ago…

.

.

.

.

.

“A black swan.”

“Huh…?” (y/n) tilts her head in question. Uramichi leans back into the couch, taking in every detail of her costume with a nonchalant hum.

“That’s what it reminds me of.”

“Why? Because of the feathery hem?” She flutters the skirt around as if to emphasise what she was saying. Barely even minding if he had gotten a glimpse underneath. It was just the two of them in his apartment, no one else. “I thought I looked like a crow.”

“A crow? You look far more elegant than that.” He scoffs, offended on her behalf. “Maybe add more feathers to the skirt to give the illusion of a swan. Do you have a headpiece already?”

“Just a tiara, but you just gave me an idea for something better.” She smiles down at him. Something about his lax figure pulled her closer to him, and before Uramichi could blink, she had already taken her spot on his lap.

“Are you gonna show it off to me again next time?”

“You know you’re always the first one to see.” She places a hand on his cheek, getting him to focus on her face before chuckling when Uramichi cringes from her icy fingertips.

“Little victories in my life.” He dryly jests, arms subconsciously winding around her waist as he accepts the kiss to his other cheek.

“Black swan of the ice rink doesn’t sound too bad, though? Maybe it’ll win me my third gold medal this time.”

Uramichi, despite already catching a glimpse of her costume the day prior, couldn’t help but share the same sentiment of the crowd. Maybe it was because she wasn’t in his dimly-lit apartment, but her costume shone a hundred times more on the ice. She took his input and made a few adjustments to her costume, even ditching the tiara in favour of a black-feathered headpiece to look every bit of a perfect black swan as he dubbed her. A spotlight follows her as she skates to the centre of the rink, waiting for the music to cue her in.

.

.

.

And later on when she stands atop the highest pedestal with a gold medal around her neck, his heart is filled with all sorts of foreign emotions.

God, he was so taken with her.

[sylvianightshade]

Back in my unhinged Jawyer era: the way that they are so feral and ferocious with each other on the island, but in the dharma setting and back on the mainland their energy is sooo gentle. Like I do wish we’d seen more hurt/comfort for these two (we already get a lot tbf but I can always do with more hurt/comfort it is my CRACK). 

For example: I think sometimes Sawyer looks at Jack and wants to hold his face and cradle his head against his chest and fall asleep with Jack in his arms, and Jack sometimes looks at Sawyer and wants to be held, wants to brush his hair out of his eyes and kiss him right on the mouth, or on the wounds he’s patching up while scolding Sawyer for being too goddamn manly and impulsive, and Sawyer will grumble about being taken care of, but Jack will catch him with that look in his eye, like he’s never seen anything quite like Jack and wants to spend every day of the rest of his life figuring this man out.

And then I think sometimes Sawyer wants to see how much he can tease Jack, how many buttons he can push, how far he can take things to truly ruffle Jack’s feathers, because he’s so fucking hot when he’s annoyed— but then if Jack actually gets upset for real, Sawyer will either a) get angry in response because he was “just teasing come on” or b) back down and apologize with the energy of a kid who’s known abuse, but usually both. And Jack will tease Sawyer the same way, sometimes when he’s bored or when Sawyer has pissed him off a bit more than usual. He’ll see if he can trick Sawyer into believing very untrue medical facts, or fabricated surgical stories that get progressively more wild as he goes along, until Sawyer figures out he’s not serious, and then he gets moody. But Jack never gets upset when Sawyer’s moody because of him. He just sits with him in silence, or waits for him to walk it off, or kisses him until he calms down, smiling softly through all of it. 

And then I think sometimes they each try so hard not to ask for what they want. Like, Jack loves to look at Sawyer with his glasses on so he’s always passing him shit to read like “look at this” or “I don’t understand this” or “you could use this advice” and then watches Sawyer’s brow furrow over the top of the frames every damn time, and it checks a little box in Jack’s mushy-ass heart. And maybe Sawyer pushes himself extra hard on purpose, doing any type of physical activity or labor, because a) he always wants to prove himself (he is macho macho man), but more importantly, b) he likes it when Jack gets concerned, if he ends up with sprains and cuts and bruises that Jack has to fix, because he’s obsessed with that spark of concentration and the condescending way Jack teases him, so he can tease back (and maybe he likes the feel of Jack’s hands literally anywhere on his body, so sue him).

And then sometimes I think they do ask for what they want. Sawyer says “talk dirty to me, doc” anytime Jack is about to/in the middle of explaining something technical, and the first few times he does it Jack is confused, but then he works out that Sawyer just likes to listen to him being all smart and doctor-y and hot (and neurotic), and these instances almost always escalate to sexual territory, so Jack doesn’t mind too much either. And Jack will just enlist Sawyer’s help when he’s feeling extra lonely, tossing whatever inanimate object corresponds to the task at hand without a word to get him to join in, and he says shit like “I was gonna go get groceries/go for a run/go to the park” which is Sawyer’s cue to ask if he wants company, because if Jack wants to be alone, he’ll just leave. But even when they are both displaying what they want full-force, it’s still so vibe-based. They’re constantly reading each other and making judgements based on the subtextual signals they receive.

And then sometimes I think Sawyer looks at Jack, in a suit and tie at a formal event, or in his lab coat at the hospital, or in his pjs either getting out of bed or getting ready for bed, and he just. Has to have him, right there and then. And Jack is literally always surprised anytime Sawyer initiates flirting, kissing, sex, anything— despite the fact that it is usually Sawyer who initiates— because Jack operates on a different (autistic) wavelength and still thinks it’s weird that Sawyer’s into him. But if Jack gets horny? Oh, boy. It’s a whole thing. He’ll go quiet, and do a lot of staring, but will wait until it’s an appropriate moment (once they get home, once Sawyer has put down his book and taken off his glasses, once Jack has his full, undivided attention) to pounce. And Sawyer is also literally always surprised whenever Jack initiates, because he doesn’t usually, but the surprise turns to smug pleasure so fast, because he’s thinking “hell yes, I got this man all riled up” and that’s constantly his goal.

And neither of them drink. They aren’t each other’s sponsors but they do attend AA together. No alcohol in the house ever, and sometimes if they’re out somewhere and it’s being served and one or both of them gets a craving, they have to distract each other with something (such as a delicious food, or a funny story, or a penis). And they’re there for each other’s breakdowns, and they know every single trigger the other has. And with the whole sleeping together thing, we’ve got textbook nightmare comfort: Sawyer’s are typically loud and full of groaning and flailing limbs and they wake Jack up every time, and he has to bring Sawyer back to consciousness and remind him where he is, that he’s okay. But Jack’s are more suppressed. He goes still, wakes up either gasping or completely silent, heart hammering out of his chest. And Sawyer doesn’t always wake up with him, until he feels the cool spot on Jack’s side of the bed, and then he does always get up to find Jack, out in the living room or kitchen or bathroom, either losing it or just barely holding it together, and then it’s hug time. Hugs always make it better. Long, long hugs and whispered words of reassurance, because Jack might not think he needs physical touch as much as Sawyer does, but it really fucking helps and he’s notorious for depriving himself.

And yes, they do still argue over stupid shit, and they do still self-sabotage, but they always come back to each other. They actually can’t stand to be apart for more than like. Three days, or they start spiraling and losing touch with reality. And they do still compete over every fucking thing, until they’re fucking on top of every thing, because they’re ridiculous.

[shepherds-of-haven]

BOOM—personality swap between the shepherds! how would that go down?? (i’m envisioning briony having blade’s stoic exterior or chase acting sophisticated like lavi and it’s killing me)

I wish I could draw, because I feel like this would be so much funnier with illustrations! 🤣

I used a random generator to generate the personality swaps:

Halek ↔️ Ayla

Halek is loud, mouthy, aggressive, and wants to fight you all the time. He has a bunch of pent-up rage from being forced to be leader of his people and he responded by acting as delinquent as possible, except instead of being a slacker and shirking his duties, now it's like some Hunter Guy questions his decision and he gets all up in his face and is like, "Huh? You wanna repeat that before I beat your fucking ass?" He is a surprisingly effective leader because everyone perceives him as tough and passionate. However, as a Shepherd, you can't get him to do anything unless you ask him nicely. He has no fear but also no chill... that fight with Ayla about the witch's bane soup would have gone soooo differently if he wasn't naturally quite laidback lol! His partnership with Moonsilk might be more compatible because she'd be the one to seemingly "hold him back" or calm him down... or he'd have told her to fuck off right from the get-go LMAO "I'm not marrying her! Either I'm the leader around here or I'm not, *I* pick who I'm gonna marry! Pack your shit and go!!"

Ayla is just a sleepy lil Wind-Mage. "Ayla, could you, maybe, you know, blast this demon to kingdom come?" "Hm? Oh, yeah, sure... 🥱" Everybody thinks Jalis people must be a buncha hippies because she's sooo lazy and chill. She's the force of calm in the group, the port in the storm: when Briony and Trouble start brawling with some rude assholes in a tavern, Ayla is just waiting on standby, vibing until they're done so she can clean them up and take them home. It probably makes her a vastly less effective fighter because she doesn't summon the energy and passion to send opponents flying, it's probably just a gentle puff of wind LOL

Riel ↔️ Lavinet

Honestly, I don't think they're that different, I feel like Riel is just more vain, fashionable, charismatic, and flirtatious. But their skillsets, backgrounds, and interests are still fairly similar! Still... imagine him lounging in like a flame-red tailored suit with, like, a peacock feather tucked into his breast pocket, the trailblazer of fashion for all of Haven... fanning himself idly while he flirts and flatters courtiers of all stripes shamelessly! "Darling, I realize you have reservations about our business agreement, but haven't you learned you can trust me? 🖤" Oh my god. He would be a menace. Imagine him with an ojou-sama laugh I'm dying

Lavinet is considerably less popular among the nobility because of her various eccentricities... She's neurotic, uptight, fastidious, cutting! She's no entertainer of grand balls and parties, but still a fearsome political opponent all the same... The new Iron Lady! She's known as something of a terror and will snap out a biting retort to just about anyone, whether it's people who don't show her the proper respect or someone who carelessly offset her carefully-arranged tea tray, annoying her to no end! She's known as something of an introvert and recluse and would just rather be left alone to read her books and manage her father's financial affairs. The young men of the Iron Court are so terrified of her that she doesn't even have to worry about being married off against her will LOL, they wouldn't dare to propose!

Chase ↔️ Shery

GOD THIS ONE IS SO CURSED GRLGJKRGJKL There's just no way... The thief-lord of Haven is actually a shy, mousy sweetheart... There's no way that could work, right?? Maybe he has an alter ego where he acts ruthless and cunning, and then he walks into another room and melts into a puddle on the ground like 🥹🥹 "that was so hard... I'm sweating haha...! 😭" Some rival guild leader flirts with him (dangerously) like "well, I was thinking of killing you... but now that I see you in person... I could think of other things I'd like better..." Chase internally is like nooooooo please stop this 😭 while outwardly he blushes and stammers something like "yeah uh th-that sounds like a better option than... being killed..." 🫠 Someone steals from him and Trouble finds him like crying dramatically on the ground an hour later like "why would they do that, that's so mean!!" 😭

I can only imagine Shery as this like vaguely evil, chaotic quartermaster, which doesn't make any sense lmao, her occupation requires her to be extremely orderly, organized, tidy, and on top of her business, and throwing Chase's lackadaisical, unpredictable, "I'm allergic to plans" personality at her is just crazy lol. Imagine trying to run an order when your quartermaster is actually your biggest prankster! YOU CAN'T DO IT, IT WON'T WORK. Every recruit who gets assigned a new room or handed new blankets or puts in a requisition order for a training dummy gets surprised by 8,000 fake spiders. Or a bucket of flour dumped on their head. The Order would collapse into dysfunction within a month. Not to mention the quartermaster's habit of flirting and chatting up the new recruits outrageously! 😭 On the flip side, Vivek would not have given her any shit after the first few minutes of meeting her...

Tallys ↔️ Briony

Tallys is bubbly, cheerful, energetic, and an emotional chatterbox, lol! That's so weird to picture lol imagine Trouble walking into a room and Tallys looking up brightly, her face lighting up in a big smile, and saying something like, "Hi, Trubs, I was just looking for you! The laundresses are throwing a fit because you keep getting the smell of gunpowder in your drapes--how do I know? Oh, well, you see, I'm friends with that nice silver-haired girl on Pelinel Squad, you know, the Weather-Mage, and she said--" I don't think she commands half the dignity or respect she receives now as Third this way lol because she's trying to be everyone's friend... probably the Elves of the Elven Quarter like Ashaniel and them low-key all hate her because she's such a little ball of sunshine, she probably comes off as quite immature and cutesy to them, so imagine her asking Ashaniel to trust her with Quel-Qanaeon, it'd be like asking an 80-year-old war veteran to trust someone whom he just saw getting distracted by a butterfly or something, like "Oh my god, look at the pretty flowers! :D It's such a nice day today, isn't it?" The irony of it being that she's an excellent Keeper and fearsome archer, just no one really listens to her advice or takes her seriously because she's so

Briony is this calm, composed warrior who likes to keep to her own solitude and comes off as quite mysterious and enigmatic. Everyone attributes this to her amnesia and past as a gladiator (surely she must have seen and done such dark things, but look at her resilience of spirit to stay so quiet and dignified!) and is basically looked at as some kind of like wise, martial monk-like figure whom you can always look to for sage advice. However, she comes off as a bit aloof, as she prefers to meditate at dawn by herself and gather herbs to make healing salves (she must have learned these rituals from her Elvish friend at the arena). She's far more meditative, contemplative, and serious... but if you take Tallys's cautious, "observe from a distance" ranged fighter behavior and apply it to what should be the destructive charger/bruiser who runs into the fray headlong, you get a Briony who's probably vastly less effective as the Battle-Mage tank she's supposed to be! She lacks her signature recklessness, so she's probably not punching down walls!

Mimir ↔️ Blade

GOD LOL I HATE THIS well Blade becomes even more quiet than he already is, and he has the charisma of a dead shrimp. He's always silently preoccupied with ✨ mysterious thoughts ✨, and his effectiveness as a commander drops drastically because everything he says is extremely cryptic and makes everyone go like ??? 🙂 What did that mean?? so nothing would get done LMAO instead of barking very straightforward, blunt commands as he is known to, he'd just sort of mumble something extremely enigmatic. This would drive Trouble crazy and he'd probably have to become acting commander. At first people would think the mysterious aura is part of his whole "formerly the greatest assassin" shtick, and his martial prowess and ability in combat couldn't be denied, so at first people would see this dark, unknowable swordsman and be like 'oh yeah, that makes sense why the Autarch picked him, he seems like he's... not of this world...' Very god of death, very ethereal... but then eventually people would start to get annoyed by the lack of clarity LOL and realize it's less "brooding darkness" and more "vague absent-mindedness" or something LMAO

Mimir's this traveling Seer who can not only see the future, but envision 900 different ways for her to kill you?? This makes her an incredibly effective fighter and she's always carrying dozens of weapons on her person... She's survived multiple assassination attempts because of people fearing/hating her predictions about their futures and considered her to be a heretic and a threat, so she's paranoid, abrupt, brusque, and finds it hard to get along with people. She prefers sleeping in a tent outside because she doesn't trust the others not to try and sneak into her room to try and kill her in her sleep! She comes off as a bit unpleasant, but her skills are so valuable that everyone ends up respecting her need for space...

Trouble ↔️ Red

Trouble's abilities as a sniper vastly diminish because, while he's lying on a rooftop or in the bush, waiting to snipe a target, he's sneaking secret reading sessions of his latest book and getting so engrossed that he forgets to keep track of them entirely! He's extremely enthusiastic about arcana and historical discoveries, partially because he's done so much research about magic to understand what was done to him by the Equalists: now he's the Order's resident "obscure magic" expert. Fist-fighting in taverns? No thank you, he prefers reading with a good cup of tea by his elbow. He's a polite, friendly young man who's adored by the neighborhood residents ("such a good, upstanding boy! ever since he was a young man he would come over every year to re-thatch my roof for me!") but has a bad habit of inadvertently making people fall in love with him. He would think he and Lazu Reen are good buddies and that the guy's insults are "just his way of joking around" LOL Lazu Reen: "you're a pig fucker" Trouble: "haha okay buddy, have a good day 🙂" Kind, optimistic, honest, and thoughtful... I feel like he would be sort of like Clark Kent, original good boy himbo with nerd flavor LMAO

Red is his sisters' biggest source of stress in life. Not only is he an UNAPOLOGETIC playboy, he's always going around, carousing in taverns, getting drunk, and then swinging that warhammer around and causing massive destruction!! They've tried to put a rein on his temper from a young age, but he's always been so mutinous and impulsive, sullenly taking their lectures and then immediately going back out and causing more trouble! Everyone in the Circle would have known him and Pan as the class clowns (Neon, like Hermione, was just there to make sure they didn't get killed). He certainly wouldn't have been named Archmage (I think people would have argued that Archmage Tevanti must have been senile at that point: you can't put that hammer-bashing barbarian in charge!!), but that's okay, he's mostly only interested in traveling around and experiencing his youth! Catch him smoking charch in the back and getting into arm-wrestling matches with Halek in bars for fun LOL. He probably wouldn't take any care of his hair and it would just be carelessly lopped off whenever it got too long! 😭

[windingintheworld]

A OC fanfic. 1st chapter~♡ OC meets Kaito and is introduced to the academy!

Title: Sad Hello/Beautiful Goodbeye

First day♡

The end of another year means it’s time for a new adventure. The past few years haven’t done much to satisfy my craving for excitement. I’ve roamed the lively streets of London, explored the rich history of Germany, soaked up the vibrant culture of Brazil, and wandered through the ancient wonders of China, not to mention countless places in between. A hundred thousand miles across every time zone, and yet, here I am, still feeling a restless, empty, alone. At first, when the Institute asked for my help in capturing anomalies, I was exited. A witch working with them? That was unheard of, especially since we’re often seen as “volatile” and “unpredictable.” But as the months dragged on, the thrill faded, leaving me with the same old boredom.

“Next stop, Darkwick Academy, meow,” chirped a cheerful voice over the quirky metro intercom, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Next stop indeed,” I muttered to the empty cabin, my voice bouncing off the metallic walls. “Maybe Tokyo will have something fun in store?” As the train came to a smooth stop, the doors slid open quietly, letting in a rush of cool, fresh air that smelled like damp earth. Stepping into the early morning fog that drifted across the platform, I headed toward the chancellor’s office. With the sun just starting to peek over the horizon, it seemed my only company today would be a surprisingly large number of cats. Some were carrying parcels, others had letters, and one, I was pretty sure, had a small drill tucked under its paws. Already, this was way more interesting than the sterile vibe of the Institute HQ. Where I’ve been rotting the past six months.

As I walked down the brick-lined road, a playful grey cat with bright green eyes dashed up to my feet, weaving around my legs. “Meow, meow!” it called, its collar jingling as a little note flapped in the breeze. Curious, I bent down and grabbed the note from its collar.

Mary,

I hope this note finds you well! Please meet me in my office so we can get you settled. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your travels. Our friend here will show you the way.

~C

I gave the kitty a scratch behind the ears, feeling a warm glow inside. “Lead the way, little buddy.”

“Meow!” it replied happily, darting off ahead of me.

And just like that, my first day at Darkwick Academy began.

By the time my meeting with Cornelius concluded, the sky bathed the academy in a warm orange hue, characteristic of my favorite early mornings. I navigated my way through clusters of students shuffling to their classes, occasionally catching an odd glance, but for the most part, I remained overlooked. Typically, my dark clothes and hair contributed to a background character vibe; however, my golden-rimmed green eyes often drew attention. I had never been one to crave the spotlight, unlike many of my sisters. The background suits me just fine.

As I focused on the rhythmic steps of my scuffed shoes, I made my way toward the old chapel Cornelius had mentioned. Counting the cracks in the brick-lined walkway, I was suddenly jolted to the side as a body collided with me. A blond boy’s face came inches away from my own, his wide green eyes staring down at me, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, nearly obscuring the freckles scattered across his face.

“OH MY GOD!” His loud exclamation startled me, prompting me to gently push him off. He scrambled to his feet clumsily, reminiscent of a fawn finding its legs. A small smile tugged at my lips. Though I could feel the disconnect between my feathers and my true feelings. It's safer to keep distance, goodbyes always come too soon. The boy was apologizing profusely, extending a hand toward me, which I accepted.

“I’m Kaito Fuji. I’m so, so sorry again. You aren’t hurt, are you?” He looked me over, and somehow, his cheeks seemed to redden even more. How cute.

“I’m quite alright, though I suggest you be a bit more careful in the future.” I glanced down at where his hand still held mine; his touch was pleasantly warm, not uncomfortable. Following my gaze, he quickly released my hand and held them up in a gesture of apology.

“Ah! Sorry again. Um,” he paused, clearly feeling awkward. “So, what’s your name? I don’t remember seeing you around before.” He offered a smile that mirrored the warm colors of the morning. I returned his smile, realizing that since I might be here for a while, it would be wise to play nice—at least to avoid potential enemies.

“Mary Baker. It’s nice to meet you, Kaito. You’re right; today is my first day at the academy. I hope we can get along well.” I put forth my best friendly smile. Kaito gasped slightly, and he seemed to tense up. Confused, I asked if everything was okay.

“Okay? Better than okay! How about I show you around? I’m free of classes right now anyway! We can even grab some lunch—my treat.” I nodded and we began walking together.

It seemed I had already made my first friend: Kaito Fuji.

Kaito led me to the dilapidated chapel, its squeaky floorboards groaning under our weight, while the boarded-up windows did little to enhance its charm. He insisted on going first, puffing up his chest and putting on a brave face that made me suppress a smirk. “It’s not so scary,” he declared, though I could see a flicker of nervousness in his wide eyes. “Just a little... character.” His cheeky grin was cute, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of amusement at his bravado.

As we climbed the stairs, I dropped my backpack at the top with a thud, the weight of it a reminder of my centuries of experience. “I’ll need to pick up some supplies soon,” I said, glancing at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, you definitely don’t want to run out of snacks or anything,” he replied, his voice playful. “A girl with a hangry mood? That’s a recipe for disaster!” He flashed me a teasing smile, his eyes sparkling. Very cute. Little does he know as a witch I rarely need to eat, but my identity is something best kept secret. Witch’s aren’t trusted among the few that know of our existence. For good reason, I suppose. The observations I was put through by the Institute for the past six months show how little trust they have.

I rolled my eyes, the corners of my mouth twitching slightly. “How noble of you to worry about my mood, Kaito. But I assure you, I’ve survived much worse than a lack of snacks.”

We hurried out of the chapel, the irony of a witch living in such a spooky place not lost on me. Kaito continued to guide me around the campus, his excitement palpable as he showed me the main building, classrooms, and even the teachers’ lounge. “And here’s the cafeteria,” he announced dramatically, arms outstretched as if revealing a grand prize. “Where all the best gossip happens! But, um, I might have a little hiccup…” He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushing slightly. “I forgot my wallet.”

I couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. “And here I thought you were the brave hero of the day. It seems you’re just a boy who can’t keep track of his belongings.”

“Hey now, don’t go teasing me too much!” he protested, though the grin on his face betrayed his enjoyment of the banter. “You’re not going to let me starve, are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get fed,” I teased, a smirk playing on my lips. “But only if you promise to keep that dimpled smile on your face. It’s quite charming, you know.” His face turned red.

“Ch-charming? Me?” he stuttered out and I couldn’t help but laugh.

We had a nice enough lunch, Kaito chitchatting animatedly about the different houses at Darkwick Academy. “So, there’s Frostheim, my house,” he began, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’s full of mostly nepo babies—rich kids who think they own the place.”

“Sounds delightful,” I replied, rolling my eyes playfully.

“Then there’s Vagastrom,” he continued, a hint of disdain creeping into his tone. “We call them the ‘thugs.’ They’re tough, but honestly, I’d steer clear of them if I were you.”

“Noted,” I said, intrigued.

“Jabberwock is interesting, though. They run, like, an… anomaly safari,” Kaito explained, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “I’ll definitely be checking that out soon; it sounds like a blast.”

“Anomalies? Now that’s something I’d love to see,” I mused, my curiosity piqued.

“Hotarubi is another one,” he said, his voice brightening again. “It’s a house of artists. They’re all about creativity and expression.”

“And Sinostra?” I prompted, wanting to hear more.

“Ah, that’s the casino house,” he said, shuddering slightly. “And their vice captain, Romeo? Definitely someone to avoid. He’s a weird stalker,” Kaito grumbled, his expression reflecting genuine concern.

“And what about Mortkranken?” I asked, intrigued by the medical house.

Kaito shivered at the mention. “Ugh, don’t even get me started on the captain. Mad scientists are always a good time, right? Just don’t let them experiment on you.”

I chuckled, finding his reactions amusing. “And Obscuary? What’s the deal with them?”

“Honestly, I don’t know much about them,” he admitted, scratching his head. “You might want to investigate that one yourself. They’re a bit mysterious.”

“Sounds like I have my work cut out for me,” I said, a smirk playing on my lips. “Thanks for the intel, Kaito.”

Finally, we made our way to the convenience store, and I raised an eyebrow at the odd assortment on the shelves. The place had a strange mix of magazines and snacks, with far too many glossy covers for the amount of food. “Looks like they prioritize entertainment over actual meals,” Kaito remarked, picking up a magazine featuring a cat in oversized sunglasses. “What do you think? Should we get this for your ‘how to survive Darkwick Academy’ guide?” He held it up to his face, striking a silly pose that made me shake my head, both amused and exasperated.

As we wandered the aisles, I felt a mix of anticipation and amusement bubbling inside me. Maybe Darkwick Academy wouldn’t be so dull after all—especially with Kaito around.

[akaridream]

after dark pt. 6: date (hawks x reader)

tags: hawks x reader

cw: minors DNI: explicit sexual material, cursing, afab reader

taglist: @inkthgoat​ @pnsduck @animedreamworlds​ @melxdig​ @mizvaun @mysideeffectsofyou​ @thecityofspareparts @soleilandpeaches​ @theycallme-becky​​ @escapingjune @erissco​​ @chrisrue15​​ @i-simp-to-much​

masterlist

Sleep was fitful at best. Your mattress was too hot, too lumpy, too lonely to give you rest. Thoughts were cyclic, obsessive like you were reading the same page of a book over and over again.

Have they been following him? Have they seen him come and go from my office? If he knows my address, surely they could find it too. But there are other businesses in that suite. Maybe they don’t know it’s me. But if they saw a private investigator in the list of businesses they would probably realize… But he said he would protect me. He promised. And I trust him. But still…

You stroked one of your shed feathers, imagining it was Hawks’. You drew it gently across your cheek, down your nose, over your lips, wishing he could feel you aching for his comfort. His steady hands had soothed your anxious thoughts in the moment, but you couldn’t stop imagining him laying next to you, easing the thoughts away once more.

You were tempted to call him. You ached to hear his voice, gravelly with sleep, telling you he would protect you. Just hearing him breathe on the other side of the phone would be enough to let your mind drift into sleep. But you knew he had to work, early as usual. You couldn’t interrupt his much needed rest.

And so you tossed, flipped, and turned in bed until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed your phone and gave into a temptation you had been trying to avoid since you met Hawks: looking up his modeling work. He had mentioned doing a few campaigns with designer brands, but you were too afraid of the burning embarrassment you would feel if he found out you looked them up. As you laid sleepless and pining, that fear dissipated. You just needed him, any part of him you could get.

And damn, had you been missing out.

The first photo you found had him wearing a plain white T-shirt, wrists stacked with bracelets and the signature watch he was advertising. His hand covered his mouth and he looked to the side, eyes drowsy. The sleeves of the shirt hugged his biceps and the metal around his forearms complimented his large, strong hands. You quickly downloaded the photo and created a locked folder on your phone for its safe keeping.

Next was an ad for jeans that didn’t even show his face, but it had you salivating all the same. Black and white, he stood shirtless with his back to the camera, hand grabbing opposite wrist and holding it above his head. His spread wings showed off every fine muscle of his back leading to his narrow hips where the jeans sat snugly around his perfect ass. The way the waistband of his boxers showed made you clench your thighs together just imagining what was underneath. You thought of making the photo your lock screen, but would never live it down if Hawks ever noticed it. Into your secret folder it went.

The haircare campaign was your favorite. The ad featured him close up, one hand mussed through his windswept hair, head tilted, lips slightly parted and perfectly kissable. His stunning golden eyes were the star of the show. Perhaps it was your avian kinship shining through, but you found the black triangles accentuating his eyes so endearing and unique. He wore a sultry, smoldering expression, jumping out of the photo and surging through you like electricity. You smiled and ran your thumb over your lips, staring at his in the picture. You saved it as his contact photo, feeling safe that he would never see your screen if he was calling you.

I bet he’s an amazing kisser. Hell, I bet he’s good at everything… It’s already 4:47. Is he getting ready for work yet? Even if he isn’t, he’ll just see a text whenever he gets up, right? I just need to make contact with him… You convinced yourself as arousal coursed through you. Just seeing his face had made the anxious thoughts clear away like sun burning the morning fog, only to be replaced with an aching, pressing need between your legs.

You: Can’t sleep. Just wanted to wish you a good day :)

You started to toy with the waist of your sleep shorts, entertaining more thoughts of him and what he would be good at. You palmed yourself over your panties, thinking of his scent and the sound of his voice. Your phone buzzed.

Hawks: aww ur so sweet angel! sorry u cant sleep though :( just try to calm ur mind and dont worry about workin today. I’ll do all the research we need so u can take the day off and relax

You: I can’t do that, we have a lot of work to get done still

Hawks: its nothing that cant wait til monday, so just take it easy, k? Just focus on getting ready for our date tonight ;)

You: You’re sure you don’t need me to do anything today? And how long do you think it takes for me to get showered and dressed?

Hawks: I’m sure. Just have the day to urself! And idk how long that shit takes but I have to imagine it takes time to look as gorgeous as you always do

A delicious flutter in your chest made you smile without thinking. You dipped a finger into your panties and sighed as it made contact with your pussy, slick with thoughts of the hero on the other end of your texts.

You: stfu you’re making me blush

Hawks: thats the point doll ;) cant wait to see u tonight, no work to get in our way

You: Oh so I’m your doll now, am I?

Hawks: u can be whatever u want. angel, doll, princess, mine, whatever u want

You whined as you pleasured yourself, excitement building each time a new text came through. You imagined him moaning each of the pet names in your ear, making you bite your lip and press your heels to the bed.

You: I guess we’ll see just how well things go tonight then bird boy <3

Hawks: cant wait :) I might be busy but I’ll see ur texts thru the day if u get bored or if u miss me too much

You moaned his name softly as you teased your clit. The arousal was starting to take over your brain and make you send texts far more telling than you realized.

You: Already miss you. Wish you were here right now

On the other end, Hawks raised his eyebrows and smirked. Though he assumed you were being innocent, his mind began to wander to thoughts of you in bed, speaking those words through heavy eyelids. He imagined you laying on your side, wearing one of his T-shirts without a bra, your pert nipples visible under the thin fabric. Your barely-there shorts would show the soft skin of your legs and the curve of your hip would make the shirt fall away, exposing a sliver of your tummy. His morning wood ached at the vision.

Hawks: u feeling anxious? Anything I can do to help?

You: can I hear your voice

Even as your phone started to buzz, you couldn’t draw your fingers away from your pussy. You would just be discrete.

“Hi,” you breathed into the phone.

“Hey angel,” Hawks said, voice grumbly with sleep, even sexier than you anticipated. You nearly whined at the sound as you continued to massage your clit.

“Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“My alarm was set for five, but I was already sort of awake. Sorry you haven’t been able to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“Just thinking about the case and everything?”

“Yeah, for the most part. Thinking about you, too,” you admitted, dipping a finger inside yourself.

“Yeah? What about me?” His voice was soft and sensual. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, pretending you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Just how sweet you were to me. And that you always smell nice,” you added with a giggle.

He chuckled. “Well you can thank the fragrance company that sponsors my agency, I always wear their stuff.”

“It’s nice. Spicy and manly.”

“Glad you like it, doll. I’ll be sure to wear it for you tonight.”

You hummed, liking the way the new nickname sounded falling from his lips.

 “Can’t wait.” You sighed and smiled. “You make me feel safe. Even just hearing you, I think I’ll be able to get some sleep now.”

“Glad I could help out. If you need anything just let me know and I’ll text back when I can, okay?”

The peak of pleasure was coming close and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back. “Okay Hawks. See you tonight then.”

“It can’t come soon enough, trust me. Bye angel.”

“Bye.”

Only a moment more of touching yourself sent you breathing Hawks’ name in the darkness of your bedroom. You came tumbling over the summit, sweet pleasure pulsing at the thought of him. You sighed and draped your arm over your eyes, cheeks burning. Oh, if he only knew what you had been doing to the sound of his voice. With it came a couple hours of peaceful sleep.

A steady rain fell as you hurried towards the alley with the blue awnings, just as Hawks had directed you. Night had already fallen and the streets were empty with only a few cars splashing by. Your watched your black ankle boots as they passed over the wet concrete and pulled your hood down over your forehead, annoyed that you had forgotten your umbrella in your nervousness. At least you had modified your leather jacket to include part of an old hoodie from college when cutting the slits for your wings. Wearing your favorite custom piece boosted your confidence as your strode towards the awning ahead.

Your heart rate quickened as you turned down the narrow alley, not even wide enough for a car to fit down. Despite being so closed in, there were charming lanterns lighting the way under the colorful awnings. All the businesses had brought in their sandwich board signs for the evening, except one. Murakami. That’s the place. There’s no reason to be all jittery, we’ve been together all week. Just be yourself. Just be honest. Just say what’s on your mind and follow your instincts. That’s all you’ve ever done, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. But how can I look in those eyes when I was getting off to his voice just this morning? God, I should not have done that. I’m such an embarrassment…

You fluffed and shook the rain from your wings as you stood in front of the shoji screen door, using your phone screen as a mirror one last time. Pulling your hood down, you pressed your eyelashes upward with your finger and adjusted your shirt, making sure the black v-neck wasn’t too immodest, yet still alluring. With a cleansing breath, you knocked.

It only took a moment for Hawks to slide open the door, face lighting up in a stunning grin.

“Hey, glad you found the place!”

He wore a green military jacket with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and black skinny jeans, just like yours. Unobstructed by his flight goggles, his golden eyes looked more radiant than ever. You admired his white T-shirt and black stud earrings, noticing the silver wing necklace from his watch advertisement.

“You gave me good directions,” you said as he took your hand and invited you inside. “I like the casual look on you, by the way.”

He shrugged shyly. “Aw, thanks angel! You look gorgeous as always,” he said, pulling you in the door and sliding it shut behind you. “Love the jacket. Another one of your creations?”

You nodded and looked around. The cozy space was lined with traditional wood panels and soft lighting. The restaurant was only big enough for two chabudai tables and a few single-person booths along the wall. It was a hidden gem-type place; unassuming and off the beaten path, but charming, and with food good enough to need no advertising. Or at least that’s what Hawks had told you.

“What an adorable place,” you said, sliding your jacket off as Hawks guided you over to a booth. He grabbed a neighboring chair and slid it over to you.

“It’s one of my favorites. They usually have a long wait, but Murakami is the great uncle of one of my sidekicks, so I get perks like this! It’s just him back there and I told him the deal, so no worries about anyone seeing us.”

“Except if they followed us,” you said, looking over your shoulder towards the door.

“No need to worry about that either. I have a few feathers acting as sentries. You can relax,” he said with a warm smile.

You draped your jacket over the back of your chair and sat, the booth crowded by both your chairs so much that your knees bumped together. Neither of you moved out of the way and you rested your leg against his.

“Well, thanks for making me feel safe, Hawks,” you said, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your burning ear.

“Always.”

The two of you lingered for a moment, wordless yet comfortable. Hawks’ phone began to buzz, making him roll his eyes.

“And I’m turning that off for the rest of the night!” he said as he powered down his phone and slid it into his back pocket. “I am officially off duty!”

“No one’s gonna send out a missing pet birdie bulletin?” you joked.

He rested his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek into his hand. “Even if they did, I won’t see it til tomorrow. You get all my attention tonight.”

You smiled. “What a lucky lady I am. Just hope I can actually hold your attention.”

He tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean? Of course you can!”

You rubbed your neck. “Well, that’s when we have work to focus on. I’m actually kind of boring.”

Hawks made a face and waved his hand dismissively. “Pfft, what the heck makes you think that?”

You sucked on your lips and shrugged. “The fact that you’re the first guy to ask me on a date.”

He examined you incredulously. “I find that hard to believe. But a lotta guys are just too intimidated to approach beautiful women, you know?”

You blushed. “Actually, I was a little intimidated by you at first, being so assertive and all. But you’re really just a big softie.”

It was Hawks’ turn to blush. His coy demeanor made your heart clench. “I’m a fighter and a lover I guess. I ain’t that soft, though.” The look in his eye turned from sweet to spicy as he glanced at your lips, then smirked. A warm flush flooded your chest and you tightened your thigh muscles instinctively.

Keep it together, you thought. As delicious as his lips look, we are here for noodles! “So, what’s good here?” you asked.

As Hawks described his favorite dishes, you smiled and watched him. His bright eyes and sprightly personality warmed you, making conversation flow like a gentle river. No awkward pauses, no dead air. He was so open and unguarded that it was impossible not to be enraptured in his charm.

Once your dinners arrived on the tiny conveyor belt from the kitchen, Hawks’ feathers perked up and his eyes grew wide. He took an energized whiff of his ramen and his wings bristled with excitement, making you chuckle.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, blowing on your steaming tonkotsu.

“Sure, anything!” he said, taking a huge bite. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed a bit, humming his pleasure at the noodles.

“What are you wings like? You can basically see with them, right?” you asked with a slurp.

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t see, but I can sense things well enough to be able to picture things in my head. Does that make sense?”

You nodded. “Hm, so maybe more like echolocation?”

“Yeah, something like that. They’re super sensitive. I pick up on vibrations, even super subtle ones. I can read someone’s heart and respiration rate, so sometimes I can tell when people are lying.”

“Ah, right! That’s how you knew the PSC guy was lying, right?”

“Yep, exactly.”

You chuckled. “Damn. That’s so crazy. And every single one of them is that sensitive?”

Hawks nodded. “Yep. And they’re super soft too, here.” He plucked a petite crimson feather and handed it to you. You gently stroked it over the back of your hand, then between your fingers.

“Oh wow, they really are! I figured they were sharp, almost like little knives I guess.”

The fibers of the feather stiffened. “I can make them sharper when I’m fighting. Pretty helpful with the big ones.”

“And it’s all in your head? Like, telekinetic?”

“More or less, yeah.”

You poked the feather on your fingertip, impressed. “Wow. The amount of control you have over them is amazing! Your quirk really is incredible.”

He shrugged and slurped his noodles loudly. “I’m lucky. But there are a lot of amazing quirks out there. Yours included, you know.”

“Mine’s alright. Does it ever get overwhelming for you to hear and feel so much all the time? Because I get overloaded all the time.” You continued toying with his feather, stroking the supple fibers over your palm.

Hawks eyed your hands as they played with his feather. “Not really, but sometimes I feel like I have ADD or something. My mind bounces from one thing to the next all the time, but I’ve spent most of my life working on this quirk, so I can tune in and out at will fairly easily.”

You nodded and took another bite of noodles. “I see. Wish I could tune out better sometimes. I’m so sensitive, especially at nighttime. I can’t sleep without earplugs, a sleep mask, and a fan. And just the right weight of blanket.”

Hawks laughed. “Geez, so high maintenance!” he joked.

“I know, I know. I’m always so difficult,” you mused as you mindlessly drew his feather over your cheek. His eyes locked onto yours. You blinked and began to blush, turning the feather back over to him. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”

“No, you’re fine,” he said with a warm smile. “Your skin is really soft.”

A voice called from the back of the shop out to Hawks. He excused himself and you took a sip of your flavorful broth. You checked the time on your phone, startled to see how late it was already. Had you really been talking for that long?

Hawks returned, key in hand. “Sorry about that. Murakami just wants us to lock up for him when we leave. Said we can stay as long as we want, so no rush.” He sat back down, knee resting against yours again. You extended your leg out between his, rubbing against him.

“I didn’t realize how late it had gotten already,” you said.

“I didn’t either! But you’re really easy to talk to, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

The two of you continued to chat comfortably for a while. Somehow your chairs had crept closer together over the course of dinner, now with Hawks manspreading his legs out with both of yours in between. Suddenly, he let out an uncontrollable, noisy yawn. 

“Geez, sorry! I promise you’re not boring me!” he said, covering his mouth.

“No, I’m sorry for keeping you out so late since you had to play hero all day. Should we take care of the bill and head out?” you asked.

“Bill has been taken care of, and I’m ready to take off whenever you are, doll.”

“Can I give you my half at least?”

Hawks scoffed. “Hell no! I asked, so I take care of you.”

You stood and grabbed your jacket off the back of your chair. “Well then, thank you very much for a lovely dinner, Hero.”

He grinned as he scooted his chair back in place. “The pleasure has been all mine, trust me. How you getting home? Want me to call you a cab?” Hawks asked.

“Actually I was just going to sleep at my office tonight, since it’s way closer.”

Hawks made a concerned face. “On that tiny little love seat? And with your high maintenance sleep issues?”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine for one night, and I’m not paying for a cab all the way across town.”

“Then I’ll pay for it.”

“Hawks, I can’t let you do that. You already bought me dinner and have been so generous-”

“Then sleep on my couch or something. I can’t let you sleep on that cramped little thing. I have a sectional that’ll be way more comfy, promise. And my place is only a few blocks west, just as close as your office is.”

You smirked and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “You’re not just trying to take me back to your place?” you teased.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I promise, it’s of the purest intentions.”

You smiled. “I’m sure.” You weighed his offer as your slid your jacket back on and headed for the door together. He opened it for you, revealing the dark and damp street once more.

“Didn’t realize it was still raining,” you said, pulling your hood up.

“Ah, me neither. Wanna wait it out?” he asked.

“Nah, the alleyway is all covered.”

After locking up, the two of you walked down the stone alley towards the main street. You both knew that you would be going your separate ways once you reached it, so your steps were slow, taking your time to enjoy the gentle patter of the falling rain against the awnings above. You linked arms with him and pulled yourself close.

“I’ve had a really nice time with you, Hawks,” you said.

He gave your arm a squeeze and let his wings surround the two of you. “I have too. I know we’ve only known each other for a week now, but…” he said softly. “I think you’re pretty damn special.”

You grinned at your boots, heart beating in your ears. “I think you’re pretty damn special, too. And I think I might let you take me on a second date sometime.”

“I’d be my honor, angel.”

Only a handful of steps separated you from the end of the alley. Hardly any cars were out this late and street lamps reflected off the dark rain puddles, making the street look like it was sparkling. 

“But… There’s something I have to ask you,” he continued.

“Mmhmm?”

“You said this was your first date. So…” he hesitated, drawing a shaky breath. “Do you happen to have any rules against kissing on the first date?”

Your heart started pounding and a grin spread across your face. “I hadn’t really considered it.”

Hawks stopped and turned to face you, his amber eyes shimmering in the reflected street light. He was impossibly handsome as he gazed at you, making your guts turn to magma. You stepped in close and toyed with his necklace.

“I’m gonna need a yes or no, angel. Because if you keep looking at me like that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

Each falling droplet halted in midair. Cars paused in the street. Your pulse quickened as you glanced at Hawks’ patient lips, waiting for yours. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and brought him close.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Without hesitation, Hawks closed the gap. Your heart soared as his lips pressed against yours. Your grip on him grew tighter as your knees grew weaker, and he reciprocated your need by cradling your neck. Passion poured from him deeply into you as your bodies clung together. A predatory desire came flaring to life as you kissed, every cell of your body screaming yes, yes, yes. Lungs emptied of vital air, you breathed in only him, his masculine fragrance dizzying.

Thoughtless and in sensory bliss, Hawks kissed you in a flurry of pecks, then dove deeper to suck on your lower lip. A pleased groan rumbled in your throat. You brushed your tongue against his lip, an invitation to continue. His tongue softly reached out to yours to cause a rush of pleasure from your head to between your legs. A whine ached in your throat. Arms around your waist, Hawks held you securely against him, a desperate breath escaping him between kisses. Your hands wandered over his deliciously muscled biceps, then trailing up to drape over his shoulders. Trembling with lust, you broke away for a moment.

“Your place,” you breathed.

“Wha-?” He pulled back enough to make eye contact.

“Take me to your place.”

part 7: ride

[the-fools-route]

THE FOOLS ROUTE

Chapter 3

Google docs isn't working so I don't know the word count. 😐

Expect grammar mistakes

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" Rise and shine! "

Portia opens the curtains, filling the room with light. I pull the covers over my head, it's way too bright right now.

" Not a morning person huh? Maybe I can convince you to get up with some breakfast? "

I slowly pull the blanket from my face.

" I might be interested."

She laughs at that. She sets a silver tray on the dresser next to my bed. It's filled with warm flaky pastries.

" I also brought a fresh set of clothes for you to wear. "

She sets the clothes pile on my bed, and she looks at me funny.

" Are you ok? You look like you're thinking of something important. "

The golden corridors still cloud my mind.

" Just a weird dream. "

She makes a sound of acknowledgement.

" You have a pretty free day today, all you really have to do is join milady for dinner tonight. I have to leave to run some errands. But till then, the world is your oyster! "

The door clicks and all is quiet. But my mind is not. I cannot stop thinking about last night. I usually have weird dreams, but this one takes the cake. Candlewick lightly lifts his head, swaying. He first slowly surveys the room, then trots to the edge of the bed and slides off. He lazily wanders around the room, exploring his new domain. I pull my phone from my pocket, the battery level is still the same. Strange. I sigh heavily, loud enough to make Wick look at me.

" What do I do now? "

Candlewick sits, as if he was thinking. He then trots to the bed pawing toward the folded clothes.

" Yeah, I should probably change. "

I've been given loose steel blue pants and a lighter blue top. The sleeves are wide and flowing. The outfit clashes with my red shoes, but I don't mind much.

" You know, for a cat you seem to understand me pretty well. "

He rolls on his back ignoring me. The platter Portia left me was fairly large, and very expensive looking. I trace the intricate designs of the silver platter with my finger. There were 5 pastries, some with what looks like fruit jam inside. Don't get me wrong, I love fruit. I'm just picky about how I eat them. Jam is a no no. I take the most plain looking bread roll. I be careful to not drop any crumbs on the floor, which proved to be more of a problem then I thought it would.

I leave my room to explore for the day since I'm not very busy. Candlewick trots close behind me, he seems to be a great travel buddy. I'm glad I'm not alone. The halls are brilliantly lit by the golden sun. The silk curtains gleam and the floors I swear were mirrors in their past life. The halls are much more lively than they were yesterday, people with big hats and bigger feathers adorned on them walk the halls. Some are holding papers or baskets, and some wave at me. I shyly wave back. I really don't belong here, I'm like a stray dog. At least dogs are cute. I explore different rooms, and believe me there are plenty of them here for me to stoop in. I found a a room filled with instruments, and another with chairs and couches. I hope nobody minds that I'm snooping around.

I eventually find large double doors that lead into an empty ballroom, a very big empty ballroom. A glass dome ceiling lets streams of light in, sending gold streaks to dance around the room. I Imagine the light morphing into people in regal dresses and suits, spinning and gliding effortlessly across the floor. It's beautiful. I personally don't know how to dance, but it feel like the right thing to do right now. I pick Candlewick up and hold him in my arms.

" May I have this dance? "

He peeps.

" That's probably a yes. "

I spin around the room trying to copy the golden phantoms around me, it's not easy. I keep tripping over my feet, but I don't mind. I sing to Candlewick a song that doesn't exist here, something only known by me. He purrs contentedly, I swear he's swaying with me. A cloud passes over the skylight dimming the light. The gold dancers disappear leaving us alone. I drop Candlewick and bow, and I can't help myself but laugh. Who knew dancing could be fun? The cloud passes and the room is bright again.

" Where to now? "

He stares at me for exactly two seconds then takes off running to a door on the right. I chase after him.

" Whoa! Can't we just walk or something? "

I dont understand how he can run so fast with so little traction. He slips through a cracked door and disappears. I persue to to little avail. The aroma of flowers swirl around my head as I open the door. I must be on the balcony from yesterday. Large marble stairs lead me down from the balcony to the gardens.

Morning dew blankets vibrant flowers of all shapes and sizes, I recognize a few of them. Peonies, roses, lavender, so on so forth. I move at a slow pace around the garden beds trying to find where that dang cat went, I find nothing but the sound of the early birds and the first sunshine of the day. I end up not finding him in the end, but instead finding a large white pavilion with a table and some chairs. I take a break from searching, he will show up eventually.

A cockatoo lands on the table I'm sitting at. He hops around and surveys me with his red eyes.

" Hello there friend. "

He skips to my hand and nibbles on my fingers. I attempt to pet him with my other hand. He puffs up and hisses at me.

" Fuck you! "

I'm left absolutely stunned. He just cursed at me!

" Excuse me? "

He squawks at me and flys away.

" Well, screw you too bird. "

He taunts me from a tree branch, hopping around puffing his feathers.

" My my, such colorful language. "

I know that voice. I whip around to see Nadia behind me, I didn't even hear her approach me.

" Do you know that bird? "

She sighs.

" Yes, I believe he was my husband's. "

She doesn't look as if she was fond of his bird.

" He always had such a temper. " she sighs.

" Your husband or the bird? "

She looks shocked, I probably shouldn't have said that. I attempt to apologize, but she laughs.

" I believe both, if possible. "

She pulls a chair from the table to sit in.

" I believe I have found a friend of yours. "

She looks to the side were lo and behold, Candlewick emerges from a bush. I think he goes out of his way to give me a hard time.

" How has your time here been? Are you comfortable? "

My hands fidget underneath the table.

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

" I've been fine, I don't have any complaints. "

Her voice is so soothing, she's so easy to listen to. She looks to the sky and smiles.

" It's been a while since I've gotten a chance to sit out here, every time I have a moment to myself another problem arises. "

When was the last time she had a day to herself?

" You could take the day off, go into town, I'm sure nothing too horrible could happen. Worse case scenario a painting falls over. "

She looks at me with wide eyes. Then looks to the side, concentrating. A small sound leaves her mouth with finality.

" Then we shall go to town. "

" We? "

The streets are bustling with noise as people start their day. Shouting and laughing become white noise, almost unnoticed. Almost. Nadia had wrapped herself in a purple shaw to blend in with the crowd. I was dressed ths same, I had no title to draw unwanted eyes, well other than being a thief in that one specific market that I will be sure to avoid, but that's beside the point. I have an ( nearly ) blank slate.

I point out stalls with strange oddities that I had never seen before. The shiny items beckon for me like a siren calling to an unsuspecting sailor. We visit meny vendors selling high quality goods, Nadia has told me at least a billion times that i can get whatever I wanted. Yes, I saw meny nice things. And also yes, I picked up said meny things to admire them with my hands. Feeling the bumps and ridges on everything. But I had no need or want for such things, they're just nice to look at. Time flew by without acknowledgement, we had shared a lunch in some high-rated inn. We had made small talk about restaurants from home.

" So, the owners knew the food was unhealthy? And they sold it anyway? "

I laugh at Nadia's confusion.

" Yep. But everyone still loved McDonald's, as bad as it was. "

I pick at my food before me. I had a plate of some sort of spiced meat drowned in a sauce. I ate most of it but I honestly wasn't all that hungry. I don't want to say we were running out of things to do, but it felt as if we were. There was much more to be done, just not today.

" What do we do now? "

Nadia readjusts her shaw to ensure anonymity, but her eyes never leave me. Once she is satisfied with her disguise she takes my hand into hers and smiles.

" Why don't I take you to a tailor to get yourself outfitted to your preference. I'd love to treat you as a thank you, I haven't had this much fun in a while. "

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

I tear at my nails with uncertainty.

" Are you sure? Do we have time? "

She smiles that beautiful smile once again.

" With certainly. "

So Nadia took me to see a tailor.

She expressed mild worry, as she had never been to this peticular store before. She has high standards for such things, and wanted it to be perfect or it was just a waste of time in her opinion. Once we enter and observe the room to be empty other then the man at the front desk, she removed her "disguise". Two things happen.

First, the man behind the front counter froze for a moment and stuttered his welcome slightly. I bet he didn't count on seeing the Countess in his store today. Secondly, I wondered how the hell is her hair so perfect after being covered and walking around all day.

We are each lead to a room to be measured. I stood on a small platform in the middle of said room, it was filled with mannequins and long rolls of patterned fabric. The room was filled yet was still orderly. I had never been measured before, I just grabbed clothes from my local Walmart and called it a day. I felt as if it was mildly invasive but that was to be expected. Once the man was done he lead me to an even larger room with clothes, he told me they were my size. Or at least close too.

I'm surrounded by suits, evening gowns, and robes. I try on a dress or two. But I don't keep them, i'm not really a dress person. Makes me feel silly for some reason, but the idea of wearing one is nice I guess. If I did wear dresses, i want it to "feel" like me. I don't want to look in the mirror and see someone else. I don't quite know what I'm looking for, as of now I am simply grabbing clothes and trying them on. But nothing really sticks. Not until I find a white blouse. It has puffy sleeves that cinch at the wrists and a simple v-line collar. I back track through the clothes till I find a pair of very dark pants, I try both on. I tuck the blouse in for a cleaner look, yet it's still a bit plain. I search the clothing racks for something to add. A mannequin catches my eye. A leather underbust corset lies wrapped around the wooden waist. I trace my fingers along the strings. This will work.

I stand in front of a tall mirror admiring my work. My white blouse tucked into my pants, then wrapped in the corset. Dark brown leather boots with a pair of slightly lighter half chaps, for a bit of pizzazz. I look at myself in the mirror, admiring my work. Maybe I should find a pretty collar for Candlewick, so he can be fancy too. But that will have to wait, I have a bigger problem at the moment. I need to leave the changing room.

What if my outfit is wrong? What if it's not nice enough? My hand hangs over the doorknob shaking, trembling. I don't understand why I am so hesitant to be seen. Maybe I don't want to be judged. Candlewick leans against my boot, he's either comforting me or demanding attention. Regardless, it calms me. I place my hand on the doorknob, no turning back now.

I'd like to say that the changing room door creaked horrendously loud causing strangers to look at me, and that they turned their heads away with disgust. And that some random woman shielded her baby's eye in fear of it crying because of me. But that's not what happened. The door didn't make a sound, no creaking. It was silent. And the room wasn't filled with potentially upset people, it was nearly empty. Filled only Nadia and a man measuring her clothing size. The tailor barely notices me, Nadia on the other hand definitely saw me.

* Pick *

* Pick *

* Pick *

She smiles but says nothing.

I wait around awkwardly until she was satisfied with browsing the store. She waves her hand to dismiss the tailor. He leaves for a few minutes before returning with a few rolls of fabric.

" I summoned a carriage for us while you were changing, it's late in the afternoon and I don't want to tire you out. Our duties are not yet finished. "

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

" Ok. "

I respond in a small quiet voice, my nerves always get the best of me.

I had never been in a carriage before this. The seats were plush and soft, very inviting. They were a beautiful crimson, like a fine wine. Total upgrade from the hard dirty seats on the bus.

She pat the seat beside her, signaling me to sit. She gently lays her hand on mine, her rings feeling cool on my warm skin.

" You look beautiful in your new clothes, I only hope you shall allow me to spoil you in the future again. "

My face flushes red, I'm not used to such treatment. It made me feel weird. Tingly? I felt warm, I felt . . .

Loved.

The ride wasn't very long, so we were back by sunset. Nadia was pleased that nothing horrific had happened with her temporary absence, as was I. Nadia told me to have some fun before dinner so she sent me on my way. I wasn't really sure what to do, so I just wondered around. I walked with a bounce in my step, I felt like I was shinning.

I feel great here. At home, I felt like I was just some other ordinary teen. No one paid any mind to me. But here? I think I can make something good for myself.

I went to Lucio to show him my new outfit, he was expectedly unimpressed by the lack of "flair and gold ". But he did say it was nice. I told him about my trip with Nadia, and about the new things I had seen. He seemed sour, grumbling how Nadia never took him to town.

We had laid on the rug by the grand window and talked for a long time. He talked about a "red market" and how he loved to romp around and buy whatever he wanted. And I talked about video games I had played and movies I had seen. Lucio seemed quite content with himself, he practically melted into the carpet while I told him the plot of a Disney movie. His eyes were soft and his breathing was steady.

He looked happy.

I obviously couldn't stay forever as I had a dinner to attend, I bid fairwell to Lucio and left. I felt him follow me, although I couldn't see him i knew he was there. I found his dogs lounging about toward the staircase that lead to his side of the palace. I made sure to scratch their ears as I passed. I think Lucio stayed with his dogs because of a sudden feeling of loneliness that came apon me as I left.

I enter the grand dinning room to see Asra and Nadia talking amongst themselves.

" I'm sorry I'm a little bit late, I got lost. "

"With time you will be acoctomed with the layout. What matters is you are here now."

Nadia reassures me that all is well. Thank God, this place is a damn labyrinth.

The long table welcoming, Nadia sits at an end with an empty chair to her side. I'll be between her and Asra. Me and Asra haven't really talked much and I had a few questions. Nothing of importance, I'm just curious of his character. We are brought meals one by one. First a light salad, then some butterd bread, and finally a spiced fish. I'm not really a salad person. I don't prefer it with ranch, although most people do. And I hate croutons. Yes, croutons. But this salad? The one before me?

Heavenly. It was lightly peppered and had a dressing that wasn't overpowering.

This place is awsome.

We had nice conversations about our pasts. I shared pleasant memories of a rainbow xylophone I had when I was young. Asra spoke of adventures to far away places. And Nadia of her childhood home. Eventually Nadia got on the topic of her late husband. No one seemed somber when his death was brought up. Asra briefed Nadia on their recent findings regarding said event. I know it's not my place to ask, but I need to know. Half of his room is suffocated by ash. I want to know why. How do I ask this in a nice way?

" How did he pass away? "

Nailed it.

Asra didn't look uncomfortable, but he didn't look thrilled that I asked.

" 3 years ago my husband was murdered by his personal doctor. "

Time to ask another dumb question.

" His doctor? Was he sick? "

Asra answers my second question.

" He was affected by the red plague. It killed hundreds of innocents. Noone afflicted survived. "

They looked sad now.

" Meny of the deaths, were of people I knew. "

Hundreds? That's horrible. Was it because of the lack of modern medicine? How were so meny lives lost?

" We are still on a man hunt for the man responsible for my husband's death. Dr. Julian Devorak. "

. . .

I pause. Murder? No, not possible. He was so kind to me, to Asra. But Asra is looking for him? We saw him yesterday?

I look at him next to me, we lock eyes. The look he's giving me tells me to stay silent. Dont say anything.

So I said nothing.