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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 1 month ago

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#3 "i dare you to fuck me (hoshi)"

kinktober 2024 — #3

pairing: kwon soonyoung/ hoshi x reader

au/genre: smut, slightly fluffy (?), best friends!au

word count: 4293 words

warnings: brief nipple play, fingering (f receiving), not detailed oral (f receiving), awkwardness, a bet about orgasms, soonyoung has a big dick (how does this always happen?), piv sex (reader is on unspecified birth control), unrealistic stamina, cream pie 💞

a/n: I WUV HOSHI 🐯 also, can someone please count how many times i've described his body as muscular?

taglist: @rjreins @meowniee @deezbin @ant-onie @ablackbtsstan @gacktsa

"There just is no way you can do it, no one can!" A groan escapes you as you fall back onto your mattress, throwing a pillow over your face to hide your half-embarrassed, half-distressed feelings written all over your face. It's awfully quiet for a moment, and to have a peek to what you assume is happening, you remove the pillow, immediately being greeted with your best friend's face hovering mere inches in front of your own, signed with that look – and therefore be proven correctly.

"I think I can." Soonyoung grins, leaning in closer. His knees rest on each side next to your hips on the mattress, his hands creating deep imprints beside your shoulders as he stares down at you. Involuntarily, your breath hitches. You find yourself staring into his eyes, switching from one to the other as your own widen in realization that – maybe – you're not as much against the idea as you initially suspected.

Soonyoung is commonly known to be absolutely competitive. If everyone was backing down from a challenge, Soonyoung would be the last man standing, facing the difficulties and tearing them apart like a cheese grater. It is something you do admire about him, well, under normal circumstances that do not include your... your body.

"And I think you're being a creep," you announce, pressing your pointer finger to his forehead to push him away. With a whine, he compliantly retracts, a pout forming on his lips, all while you feel like you can finally breathe again. With a scoot, you sit up against the headboard, switching between looking at your best friend and fighting your hardest battle of trying not to look at him.

"Well, I think you're not giving me a chance," he states, criss-crossing his toned legs that you probably shouldn't gaze upon right now to stand your point, but how could you when they're practically begging for you to bite into their muscly flesh?

"Well, I think-" You're forcing your eyes to take in anything but his thighs – a quest hard enough to bring even the strongest soldier to their knees in defeat – "that would cross boundaries that can't be un-crossed."

The playful glint in his eyes disappears suddenly, leaving him to contort his brows in concern. "For real?"

"I mean, yeah?" Your shoulders tense up and your fingers begin fiddling with a loose string on your sock. "Look, the thing is that I'm fine. I don't need to- you know."

The look he sends you is unbelieving, doubtful, unconvinced.

"It was just a random fact I threw into this conversation, I didn't mean for you to jump on the opportunity," you reason, hands gesturing weirdly in front of your chest.

"Alright, my bad," he grins and you thank the universe for the one thing that characterizes your best friend more than his competitiveness: his naivety to believe every lie you tell. Because if he'd tried convincing you for a minute longer, you would've presumably given in. It's not like you don't want to, it's not like the voice between your legs hasn't yearned for Soonyoung's touch once or twice or thrice or more in the past years of being friends. It's just that- how does one move on from that?

"Great!"

"I mean it's your choice if you don't want to cum." Soonyoung shrugs, eyebrows risen with a sly smile on his face as he turns his head, then side-eyes you.

"Exactly." You grin fakely.

"I mean, not to brag, but the feeling is pretty great."

"I know. I can do it myself."

"Sure, but" he sighs dreamily "it's different through the hands of another person."

"Weren't we going to play Mario Kart?" You ask through gritted teeth, trying to change the topic away from your sex-life. Soonyoung might be great at a lot of things, most things even, but how can you be sure he's good at this too? How does one move on from that – okay, maybe that’s somehow possible… but how does one move on from that failing miserably?

"Oh, of course," Soonyoung scoots to sit down next to you and presses a controller into your hands. You would like to say the cool material eases the sweaty feeling of your palms, but it actually intensifies, highlights the feeling, and you try your best to ignore how it threatens to glide from your wet digits every passing second. Not long after, the game starts with Soonyoung immediately taking first place. You try to concentrate, mood dropping when you have to, once again, realize that he is pretty much unbeatable. Saltily, you side-eye him, only to see a smug grin on his face. "What can I say, I'm pretty good with my hands."

"Oh, for God's sake!" You throw the controller down, crossing your arms over your chest and watch Soonyoung win the game just seconds later. Slowly, he turns his head towards you, grinning evilly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles sweetly and you huff, then get ready for the next round which goes by just as quickly as the first, and with the same outcome. Annoyed, you throw the controller across the bed only for it to bounce off the edge and hit the floor with a thump.

"You seem pretty tense, maybe I should help you relax," Soonyoung grins, and you wish upon the Gods to either let the ground swallow you whole or to give you a way to wipe his awful smugness off his handsome features.

Maybe you could punch him. It would most certainly shut him up, but you're not a violent person. You like peace, you like the pigeons, and punching him would only result in the same outcome of a ruined friendship, but without the fun.

Maybe you could kiss him. It would also ruin the friendship, but at least you get half the fun.

Maybe you should just go for broke.

"Okay," you simply say. Judging by the look that takes over Soonyoung's face, he is definitely surprised, but not opposed. He blinks, bottom lip pushing forward in disbelief.

"What?"

"Do it," you demand, grabbing the remote to turn of the TV (the Mario Kart Theme Song is not the ideal background music for getting intimate with your best friend, you decide) and lay down on your back. With a swift motion, you lose your pants, kicking them off your legs and down the bed to pool in a little jean-mountain next to the controller you'd sent off earlier.

Soonyoung looks like he's been petrified while looking at a pot of freshly made budae jiggae. It takes him another split of a second to collect himself before he comes crawling over to you. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that if you don't do something right now I will kick you out and keep your switch," you answer blandly and, in the same breath, wonder when all of your uncertainty turned into passive-aggressiveness and impatience.

"I didn't pressure you into this, right?" Soonyoung's stare into your eyes is so intense that a part of you melts, but a different part of you wants to show him, to prove him wrong. There is no one who's ever been patient enough with you to make you finish, so maybe it's your poor choice of men, maybe it's your body, maybe it's something else entirely. Of course it bothered you at first, but you've come to terms with it. That was until today. There is just no way that he can bring you an orgasm. It cannot be that simple.

"I swear to God-"

"Can I kiss you?" Soonyoung's voice sounds so soft, uncharacteristically soft. He's appeared besides you, finally settled in laying on his side, slightly towering over your form. The scent of his cologne meets your nostrils as you dare to look up at him, a dark gaze set upon his eyes that makes you gulp, throat drying up with the thought of what's to come.

"Just do whatever you need to-" You don't even get to finish before his soft lips press against yours. He slips his hand beneath your chin to lift it up the slightest bit for better access. His mouth moves gently against your own, obnoxious sounds of lips parting and connecting again litters the quiet room. Sounds that would usually make you gag upon hearing them, but something about it being him makes it okay, makes you not even realize.

It's then when you notice his hand leaving your chin, trusting the way your lips move against his own that you will not pull away without the support. He traces your form, hand stroking over your sides to come to a quick halt at your hips. You gasp as he moves it up again to gently trace the outlines of your breasts through your shirt.

Tingling sensations of want spray through your body like a miniature firework. Soonyoung knows how to touch you, even though he never has, not like that, and when his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, you gasp against his lips.

You just know he's going to be smug about it, you're not even surprised when you feel him smirk against your lips before resuming to kiss you deeply, adding a little tongue to lick over your lower lip, not yet begging for entry.

His hand leaves your breast, and you feel a little disappointed until you realize he pushes your shirt upwards to create real, skin-on-skin contact with your nipple again. You'd be surprised at how easy it was for you to let yourself go for him, to let him in, to let him explore, if you could concentrate on anything but the way his self-declared skillful fingers are making you feel right now.

With your shirt pushed further up to reveal your body to his eyes, his lips leave yours to attach to a nipple instead, sensually licking and sucking on the bud to leave you back-arched and hungry for more. You voice your wish, and Soonyoung, not without a chuckle, lets go of your breasts to kiss you once again.

His hand leaves your chest to travel south, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach briefly before exploring the sensitivity of your thighs. He traces soft patterns on the supple flesh, riling you up even more before finally attending to your clothed core.

At the first touch, your eyes roll back behind closed lids, hips bucking into his touch as if having a mind of their own. You know he can feel how your wetness drenched the flimsy material of your panties, and when he finally reaches inside, you feel much less like needing to prove a point. To say his fingers feel good would be an understatement, you would even dare say that you've never had someone else’s touch feel this good.

Soonyoung glides a finger through your folds, collecting enough of your wetness to spread upwards over your clit, then begins circling it. The action makes you clench around nothing. He knows just how to touch you, and you start to believe that he might actually be able to make it happen.

His motions, speed and pressure intensify over time, making you grasp the sheets to keep yourself from thrashing around. At this point, you don't even realize the sounds you're making, nor the volume of them, only spurring Soonyoung on to keep touching you just like that.

Pressure begins building. Your heart skips a beat, then hammers away at twice its original pace to make up for it. The familiar knot in your stomach keeps forming, you cry out, hands, touching everywhere at once to find the closure of knowing what to do with yourself, finding refugee on Soonyoung's shirt. Your lips are no longer connected, instead your forehead rests pressed against his, allowing your panting breath to tickle his lips.

It's happening, it's going to happen-

It’s… it’s gone.

As slowly as it came, it ended abruptly. It still feels good, everything feels so, so good. You feel yourself being on fire, every part of you yearns to feel Soonyoung, more of Soonyoung and Soonyoung everywhere. It's just not enough.

Whether he felt your build up and crashing or not, he does not seem to be ready to give up just yet, instead reaching down to insert a finger into your waiting hole, then another. His movements are neat, concentrated on making you see stars with the way he drags along your walls, pads of his fingers pressing upward to massage into your spot just right.

It builds, it builds, and it's gone.

Reading your signs, Soonyoung moves to lie between your legs. The absolutely drenched material of your panties meets the floor moments later before Soonyoung dives in, lips and tongue connecting to form a firework of sensations between your legs. But it's just not enough, you realize, and you feel like crying. It can't be, he is doing everything right, better than right, so why isn't it working?

"S-Soonyoung-" you bring out. "It's not- it's not working."

"Are you sure? I mean, I could-"

"I can't. It's not going to happen."

"Just let go-"

"I can't!"

"Please-"

"Just let it go!"

It's not awkward, it just feels a little weird. None of you had realized just how much time Soonyoung spent between your thighs, and the reality came crashing down on you as you looked at your phone to overcome the awkward silence, showing numbers that indicated that Soonyoung's last bus was gone for good and there was no way for him to get home.

Hence, the two of you stare holes into the darkness lying next to each other on your bed about half an hour later.

"I'm sorry I couldn't-" Soonyoung whispers into the quiet room.

"That's why I told you, it's impossible," you whine, hiding your face in your hands even though he can't see you anyway.

"Was it... just not good in general?" The uncertainty in Soonyoung's voice is uncharacteristic for him, voice usually overflowing with confidence to a point where it's almost unbearably annoying sometimes. It makes your heart ache.

"No, you were not the problem. You did... everything right, to be honest. I don't want to stroke your already massive ego too much, but I've never been touched like that," you admit, turning to your side to face where you assume him to be.

"Phew," he says, and you can hear the playfulness in his voice clearly. You roll your eyes, but crack a smile. Rustling noises coming from Soonyoung's side of the bed, paired with dipping motions of the mattress that let you guess that Soonyoung's turned to face you as well. Carefully, you reach out to touch him.

"That's my f-, I swear to God if your finger ends up in my nose, that's your problem- no wait, I'll turn on the light," Soonyoung says and follows his own words with actions, and you giggle, closing your eyes to shield them from the stinging brightness of your lamp and scooting your body closer to Soonyoung until you can feel the warmth radiating from his body not only on your hand, that's touching his chest. It's silent for a minute.

"It was really good..." you admit again, Soonyoung's scent reminding you of the happenings earlier, and maybe this is your subconsciousness telling you to try it again, but you're unaware of it.

"If I didn't know any better, I could swear you're trying to fuck me right now," Soonyoung laughs and earns slaps to his chest from you until he has enough and grabs your wrist. "For real though..."

"What?"

"Let's try it again- wait! Hear me out," he warns, and you shut your opening mouth in defeat. "Let's make it a competition, whoever cums first has to buy ice cream tomorrow."

"Ice cream?" You mumble, head spinning a little at his eagerness to try again. You can't believe that this is only his competitiveness speaking, yet you can only speculate the reason why he is so head over heels at the idea of being intimate with you again.

"Ice cream," he confirms, but the tone of his voice dropped in both deepness and volume. A tingling sensation washes over your body, causing your breath to come out shakily as you subconsciously press yourself closer to Soonyoung.

"But isn't ice cream like really cheap? Shouldn't we compete for something a little more... expensive?" You don't notice how your tone changed as well, making it sound like you're unintentionally purring your words.

"It's not about the ice cream, silly," Soonyoung tsks, making you look up at him once again by lifting your chin, "I just want you."

You whimper at that, and fortunately, Soonyoung is quick enough to pull you into another kiss before you can feel embarrassed about your shameless display of attraction. Quickly, the kiss gets heated, yet not hasty, no teeth clashing, no lips crashing, just raw desire and a little too much spit. It’s perfect.

Soonyoung’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer, before shamelessly reaching for the supple flesh of your ass, generously groping a cheek with his hand, making you whimper once again, uncoordinated hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to see the bulky richness of the body you know he’s sculpted to upmost perfection at the gym in the past years.

Following your desperate request, Soonyoung pulls the fabric over his head, he himself too affected to even act cocky about you wanting an opportunity to visually take in his beefy torso, instead panting softly as his intense gaze meets yours.

Though not for long, as yours immediately falls to his strong chest, muscles visibly bulging through his skin, and you can feel yourself gulping from drooling so much. Your nimble fingers quickly find their way onto his skin, softly exploring the wide expanse of muscle paradise as your lips find his again.

Soonyoung softly grunts into your mouth as your fingertips briefly circle his assumably sensitive nipple, then softly pushes you onto your back to hover above you effortlessly, strong arms wrapping around your figure before pulling your shirt off as well.

The in between is a bit of a blur, every glimpse at Soonyoung's body enough to get your head spinning, every one of his touches feeling electric with how turned on you are, and soon, there's not a layer of clothing separating you.

Soonyoung reaches down gently, spreading your folds with his fingers to find your wetness greeting him once again, insisting on preparing you for what's to come as he softly kisses along your neck.

This time, you feel, he's less determined, there's no goal in his mind, he genuinely wants to explore the depths of you, every little part he missed in his determination earlier. But that doesn't make it any less mind blowing.

“You’re so… perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, the sound almost getting lost in your gasps and soft moans as he stretches you with three of his digits.

“Soonyoung…” you whimper needily, trembling hands running down his body, reaching their destination as you wrap a hand around his length.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp in mild surprise, unable to hold back the implied compliment, and the charged atmosphere briefly lightens as Soonyoung lets out a soft chuckle.

“You want it?” He asks, and it’s not only a question of if, but also him trying to gauge if you're ready for him yet.

“Mm,” you hum in approval, hooded eyes hazily looking up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Soonyoung lets out one last breathy chuckle before aligning himself with your entrance, intense gaze meeting yours as he carefully shifts forward, his tip briefly catching on your hole before sliding inside.

Your breath hitches at the stretch despite his preparations, yet you want more, you want all of him, all of Soonyoung as deeply as possible, and to never let him go. And he complies, slowly pushing deeper and deeper, every vein dragging deliciously along your walls that struggle to adjust to the intrusion.

With your eyes rolling back, you let out a soft groan, hands grabbing onto his bulging biceps for any form of stability as your head spins, his tip seeming to slide deeper endlessly, his cock filling you to the very brim before he finally bottoms out.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung grunts softly, panting breaths leaving his parted lips, eyebrows scrunched in a mix of raw pleasure and trying to hold himself back from just pounding into you right now.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto your thigh to adjust it around his waist before stroking all the way over the flesh of your ass and up your waist where he rests his hand to hold you in place as he pulls back slightly, then thrusts experimentally.

A whine escapes your parted lips, fireworks going off behind closed lids, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy at the feeling combined with the mere reality of this situation. Soonyoung’s inside you, reaching depths that you’d naively describe as uncharted territory, and, God, he feels heavenly. And your body seems to agree, clenching automatically as if not wanting to ever let him pull out entirely again.

Soonyoung gasps, then buries his face in your neck again, lips attaching to your skin, peppering open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach as he repeats his thrust before setting a slow yet steady pace.

Moans tumble from your mouth uncontrollably, the bet about ice cream long forgotten, as well as your uncertainty about whether you can even cum from someone else's touch.

And Soonyoung takes you for hours, pushing your legs and body into every possible position one could think of, whispering sweet yet dirty nothings into your ear for only you to hear, and gifting you the best night of your life.

By the time he announces that he's close, he’s a panting mess, a layer of sweat covering his muscular body while the wetness between your legs has increased to a point where it's almost too slippers, and yet all you feel is pure bliss.

“Cum in me,” you gasp breathlessly, your legs feeling like jelly at this point, “it’s fine… cum in me…”

With his last remaining strength, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, a look of pure astonishment on his face, “for real?”

“Y-yeah.. yeah, I’m-,” you interrupt yourself with a moan as Soonyoung’s thrusts pick up, “yeah..”

“Oh my God..” Soonyoung’s moans get whinier, a tad higher in pitch as he gets closer and closer. He’s managed to manhandle you back into your original position with you on your back, and his hands grip onto your waist to be able to piston his hips into you faster, his face buried in your neck as he grunts in pleasure, “oh, fuck, thank you…”

His thrusts get sloppier, almost losing their rhythm and all you can focus on is how his body slowly tenses up more and more, the veins on his strong forearms bulging as he moans your name into your neck needily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

Just as you open your mouth to encourage him once again, he picks up his pace yet again, pounding his hips into yours with such force and speed that it makes the bed crash against the wall repeatedly. It takes you by surprise, your back arching and your jaw dropping at the sudden overwhelming sensation, your nails digging into the skin of Soonyoung’s wide shoulders.

He pushes into you harder and harder, as if losing himself completely, his moans growing louder and louder, maybe a bit too loud for the time of night, but neither of you care, merely focused on the pleasure you’re both feeling.

Soonyoung bottoms out again, once, twice, before pushing in impossibly deep, and you can physically feel the exact moment he orgasms, his length pulsating wildly and a warm sensation filling you, and that’s when it happens.

With a soft, tired whine, you feel the knot in your stomach, that you didn’t even notice was forming, snap, your own walls clamping down around Soonyoung repeatedly, albeit rather softly and not as intense as Soonyoung’s high. It takes you a moment to realize.

Your eyes widen. Was that…? The same moment, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, his eyes as wide as your own. Oh, he felt it.

“Did you…?” He whispers, as if afraid that if he talked too loudly, it would turn back time and undo your orgasm.

With parted lips, you stare back at him, “I… y-yeah…”

You expected everything from a cocky remark over an ick-triggering victory dance to an actual orgasm-celebration party featuring everyone Soonyoung’s known since birth, but Soonyoung just leans back down and hugs you tightly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back. Hesitantly due to your surprise, you slowly brush your fingers through his hair, suddenly deeply in thought.

Soonyoung actually made you cum? And it was… that easy? Well, despite the fact that it took literal hours… and why did it happen when he- and generally, what now?

“Can I take you out on a date after getting you ice cream?” Soonyoung suddenly speaks up, too exhausted to lift his head once more so his voice gets muffled in your neck.

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him.

“Date…” is all Soonyoung can mumble.

“You-,” you begin, but quickly shut up. Why not? “Yeah, why not?”

“Fabulous,” Soonyoung mumbles, then presses a wet kiss to your shoulder. A few minutes pass by before he speaks up again. “I’m feeling sticky. Are you feeling sticky? Let’s shower…” he lifts his head, then slowly begins grinning. “We can reminisce about this experience in there…”

Ah, there he is.

#kinktober #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #kwon soonyoung #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #neohub

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year ago

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wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

#heroes and villains #antagonist and protagonist #writing #story #writing snippet #villains #villain

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catharusustulatus · 1 year ago

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Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

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hellyeahsickaf · 10 months ago

Text

Cooking While Disabled

One of the things I miss most about being less disabled is cooking. It was one of my favorite things to do and something I've always been good at.

On good days there are things I can do that make it easier. It's not the same as before, but I hope that sharing what makes it possible for me to cook helps others who struggle with it.

Tips for cooking while disabled:

You can incorporate precooked food in your meals. For example, stir fry with precooked rice with the ingredients of your choice, or taking frozen pasta (like the ones with maybe sauce and a couple other things) or plain microwave pasta (I prefer these, but heat it first) and putting it in a pan adding other ingredients like vegetables, cheese, garlic, etc

If it comes frozen or canned that can really help. Frozen rice you can just microwave, frozen cut veggies and garlic and onions are good as well

Buy a chopper with different shaped blades, spiralizer, electric slicer/grater, food processor, or any appliance that will save you energy. Ideally machine washable. Stand mixers are also better than manual ones. Especially helpful if you have joint/wrist issues

You can always prepare ingredients ahead of time. I find that sometimes it helps to prep (chopping or mixing ingredients, etc) earlier in the day or even a day before. Then you can put it in the fridge or freezer until you're ready to cook the full meal

Look up easy recipes or recipes for elderly/seniors. With the latter you may find more nutritionally balanced food but an unbalanced easy meal is better than none

You can sit while you prepare ingredients.

You're allowed to take breaks. You can turn the stove off, maybe put a lid on it to retain the heat, sit down, maybe take something for your symptoms. Some things you may not be able to stop in the middle of like making pancakes or deep frying something, but if you're making soup or curry or chili or something, often you can turn it off for a bit and take care of yourself.

If you need help and can get it, please ask for help. I know many of us need to work on asking for help including myself. Even if it's just washing the pots and pans or chopping something. You are not a burden you hear me?

Stretch before and after cooking just as one would before a workout. It will likely lessen any joint pain or stiffness as you are still exerting yourself

Listen to your body. Just as you're allowed to take a break, you are allowed to decide you won't be able to finish what you're doing. You may put away your food before it's done (if this won't ruin the meal). You are allowed to leave a dirty pot in the sink and come back to it later (just make sure you or someone else does before it gets gross). You can wash them in the dishwasher. I know this is bad for the seasoning on pots and pans but you can reseason them to be nonstick again and use nonstick spray

You can buy seasoning mixes rather than using individual seasoning. Instead of parsley, oregano, basil, etc you can buy Italian seasoning. Instead of paprika, pepper, cumin, oregano, salt, etc, you can just get taco seasoning. This may sound obvious but it can save a lot of time and energy

An issue I have is buying perishable ingredients thinking I can use them, having a bad week or two, and the ingredients have gone bad. Try to plan out your meals before shopping and ask yourself if there's an easier alternative for any ingredients. Maybe pre chopped fresh onion instead of a whole one, sliced mushrooms instead of whole, frozen vegetable blends instead of individual, powdered ginger instead of the root, bullion instead of stock that you may not be able to use all at once. I know this is like one of the other points but these are what I find most helpful

Use supercook.com! You input the ingredients you have on hand and you'll get a list of recipes you can make with what you have. Often there's a wide range of complexity and difficulty

Make enough food to freeze or refrigerate leftovers. It helps if you can portion it into single servings in Tupperware or freezer bags. You can prepare frozen burritos for your next few lunches or dinners, separate portion sizes of spaghetti, portion salads, etc

Feel free to add any additions!

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mj-iza-writer · 4 months ago

Note

HI IM THE LANGUAGE ANON

I wanna say i rlly loved it and i have anogher rq...

The same, but whumper also forcibly americanizing whumpee, forcjjg them away from their culture and making fun of it and calling it gross. If you can ig??? I know it might be a bit hard

Sorry about the wait, another great idea. I think the most cultural things that I could think of was hair. Their are so many cultures that are connected with hair. I hope you enjoy.

Whumpee fought against the restraints keeping them to a chair.

The sound of scissors being snipped caused them to freeze.

Whumpee strained to see Whumper.

"No, no, please no", Whumpee pleaded once they saw Whumper grinning evilly at a pair of scissors.

"Relax, I'll let you grow it back. It's a mess and needs to be cleaned up. When was the last time you've brushed it?" Whumper came closer.

"The style isn't meant to be brushed. It... it's a protective hairstyle. A connection to my culture and ancestors", Whumpee fought against the restraints, "it's bad luck to cut it.... please."

"You worry too much. Your people have lied to you for so long about all of these ancestors and crap. No... you live in America, and you will look and act like a civil American."

Whumpee struggled as Whumper lifted some of their hair and lifted the scissors to it.

Whumpee shook their head, but Whumper held onto the hair and made the first cut.

"NNNNOOOO!!!!", Whumpee screamed as the clump fell to the floor.

"Look, you made me cut it uneven. I might have to shave you all the way now", Whumper sighed.

"No no no", Whumpee complained, "that's more than what you said. Please don't do this."

"We'll see", Whumper laughed.

Whumpee cried with every snip to their hair. They watched as every clump rolled off of them.

"Hmm not bad", Whumper finally set the scissors down.

"Ar-are you done?", Whumpee sniffled.

"Nope."

Whumpee's heart sank as they heard a lot of things being moved. Then the sound of an electric razor.

"No", Whumpee stomped their feet against the floor, causing the chair to almost tip.

"Good idea, tip the chair over", Whumper frowned, "you are making such a big deal out of nothing."

"My culture isn't nothing. It's mine, no matter how much you try, you can't take it from me", Whumpee glared, "and if that does somehow happen. My people will still exist."

Whumpee received a harsh slap to the face.

"Ymph", Whumpee grunted.

"Shut up", Whumpee growled, "or better yet, quote the pledge of allegiance."

Whumpee rolled their eyes, "I'd rather be quiet."

Another slap to the face.

"Ymmm", Whumpee groaned.

"Say it", Whumper warned.

Whumpee begrudgingly sighed, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States.....

Whumper dragged Whumpee down the hall and opened the door to the room Whumpee was locked in.

After Whumper handcuffed Whumpee to a bedframe, they placed a mirror in front of Whumpee.

"I don't want to see", Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut and lowered their head.

"You look so nice though", Whumper cupped Whumpee's face, "look", they lifted Whumpee's face and squeezed their cheeks.

Whumpee winced.

"Look before I take something else from you", Whumper warned.

Whumpee hurried to open their eyes.

They were greeted with their reflection.

"Smart choice. I was planning on taking a cheese grater to your ceremonial tattoos", Whumper chuckled, "maybe next time."

Whumpee glared somberly at their reflection.

"I can see you need some time to take this in. So enjoy staring at yourself for the rest of today."

Whumpee waited for the door to close before they started to sob. They stared angrily at their reflection. This wasn't their reflection... it couldn't be.

That night, Whumper received many nightmares. Some worse than others. The worst ended in a night terror. They were awake but were not able to move.

A person with the same hair as Whumpee had approached and jumped on the bed. They knelt over Whumper.

Whumper gulped at the closeness. The more Whumper could see the more terrified they became.

"Release them, or suffer the consequences", the figure warned.

With that, the figure disappeared, and Whumper was released from the paralysis.

The next morning Whumpee woke up and looked straight into the mirror.

"Not just a nightmare", Whumpee frowned.

Whumper came in.... pale as ghost, clearly lacking in sleep.

"Did you have a visitor last night", Whumpee smirked.

"Y-you know?", Whumper gasped.

"I had a visitor last night too. Mine was comforting though. I warned you it was bad luck to cut my hair. If you do not do as they warned, they will drive you mad with nightly visits. That is Mamma's way."

"Mamma?", Whumper stated with some sarcasm.

"An ancestorstral spirit", Whumpee grinned.

"Nonsense", Whumper frowned, "just stories to scare me."

Whumper soon learned though that the more things they did to Whumpee the more visits they received, and the less sleep they got.

They began keeping their distance from Whumpee, afraid to even touch them. The nightly visitor was becoming more threatening every night.

"Leave, get out of my home. To think I tried to civilize you and do you a favor. This is what I get in return", Whumper yelled, "get out."

"Even if I do leave, you'll still be haunted by them" Whumpee grinned as they rubbed their wrist, "you caused this to yourself. I did warn you. If you had let me leave sooner you wouldn't have suffered that fate. Now it's to late. Mama is going to get you."

Whumper pointed at the door, "get out. To think I tried to help you. You and your wicked people cursed me."

"Typical American. You put your hands where they don't belong, and they got burnt. Now it's everyone else's fault."

Whumpee turned to leave, "remember this, they will not leave you alone. This is your fault." Whumpee stepped out of the door cautiously.

Whumper lowered to the floor and shook. Every night had gotten worse. Every night, they felt like they may die. How long until they would actually die?

"All because of them", Whumper frowned.

Thankyou so much for the ask.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

#whump community #whumplr #whumblr #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking #oc #ask answered #request #ask response

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nagirambles · 10 months ago

Text

Rambling about Fairies - Manga Chapter 200

Warning: generally negative.

And so the decharacterisation of Juvia begins. Like, I get that Gray was the reason she broke out of her rain woman slump and all, but her new hairstyle and her friendships within the guild came from Lucy and Cana. Why does everything get reset all the way to Phantom era just because of Gray?

I feel like this could've been some kind of deep character building moment in the long term-- it could have been Juvia realizing she was being overdependent on Gray because the second he discards her (he wasn't holding on to her particularly to begin with) she dissolves back into being socially inept. It could've been her moment to go from focusing on Gray to focusing on herself and her own goals. Does she return to this form because it's the one that Gray saved? Did she want his attention again, so she reverted, so Gray could save her again? I wish it went in that direction, because then there would be something. But there wasn't. This was just Mashima's brand of humour, and it's what begins Fairy Tail's downward spiral.

Which is ridiculous! She spent so much time away from them in Nirvana and Edolas and was fine until Happy told her about Edolas Gruvia!

It's so unhealthy and I wish I could be joking right now, but I can't. It isn't even portrayed as negative unlike her usual stalker shenanigans. God forbid, when it happened in Avatar it was entirely stated that Gray was the one that needed to be brought back to their side because Juvia's not okay without him. Sure, Gray needed to be brought home, but no one mentions how Juvia is way too fucking dependent on her man that she's somehow completely unable to take care of herself once he's gone! She made herself sick and wandered about like a zombie without any meaning left in her!

What did she spend so many months in the guild for, if she somehow never experienced family enough to remember it after Gray left? Even Phantom Lord taught her the meaning of 'being accepted regardless of your flaws/baggage' and you're telling me Fairy Tail gave her nothing except crippling overdependence on Gray?

When did she become someone that only lived for Gray? Where is my strong and brutal, desperate to prove herself, confident, self-sacrificing shy girl? Where is the girl that just wanted Cana to accept her, where is the girl that hurt herself to save Gray from Meredy, where is the girl that brought Gajeel to Fairy Tail because she didn't want him to be alone after Phantom disbanded? Where is the girl that, when mind-controlled, cried because she didn't want to hurt Lucy anymore? Where is she?

I really feel like this moment and the later Avatar situation could've been a character building moment to enrich both her and Gruvia as a dynamic. Rather than Avatar completely tuning all the blame on Gray, it should've been a moment where Juvia herself went to save Gray and bring him home. She proves her place later on, during the Water Make moment--- but that's about her love for Gray. What about her pride as a member of Fairy Tail, as family, as Juvia Lockser, the strong and independent rain girl that now knows the sun? Where the fuck is she, Mashima? Why were we robbed of the moment where Juvia, after growing as a member of Fairy Tail, went and brought Gray home to a place that would accept him after he turned to the dark side? Where is Juvia bringing Gray into the sun to bring their development and relationship full circle? Why is Gruvia going up and down like a cheese grater?

#rambling about fairies #fairy tail #ch200 #edolas arc #i have biases i'm sorry

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 months ago

Note

Your Kunikida x reader was so sweet/well written! May I request Kunikida with an s/o (GN or fem) who's having a stressful time with eating right/properly...maybe they could be in a cooking or shopping together scenario? If the topic isn't one you're comfortable writing about, please don't worry about it!

Doppo Kunikida x reader

awwww! thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and was actually inspired to build off that story for a part 3! [part i, part ii ]

“How do you not have anything in your fridge?” Literally.

Kunikida had never seen a fridge so bare outside of an appliance showroom. Save for a few meager condiments, a single egg, one bunch of green onion (which had seen better days), and coffee creamer, it was completely empty.

“Uh...because I’m never here?” [Y/N] replied as they came out of the bedroom. “I’m never here that often, and it’s not like dad rents this place out when I’m not around. There’s no point in doing grocery shopping when I’m not going to be here that long as I’m usually out to dinner with him or friends, or just get take out.”

Kunikida frowned. As ‘sound’ as that argument was, he still couldn’t believe they didn't have any real food in their house. “You need to take better care of your diet. For your health.”

“What? You think my ‘health’ is suffering?” She flashed him a smile and lifted the bottom of her tank top & lowered the band on her bottoms to show off her body.

Kunikida had to gulp and turn away. He would not be distracted. “Come on. We’re going to the store. I can’t leave you alone like this with no reasonable means to feed yourself.” [Y/N] groaned but put up little more for an argument as they went to change.

The trip to the store was easy enough. At this time of day there weren’t many people. Just seniors and young mothers with their children too little for daycare. Kunikida glanced at them, then back at [Y/N]. Imagining, if just for a moment, a life where this could be their routine every Sunday.

Once the shopping was done, they head back to [Y/N]’s apartment and start cooking. “You know, we could have had food by now if we just ordered it.” She playfully grumbled. Cleaning the green beans as instructed beside him, while Kunikida diced some onion and put it in the pan with the chicken.

“Home cooked meals are better for you. You can get more of the ideal nutrients & vitamins needed for ideal health.”

“Yeah, along with all the work and gross wrinkly fingers when you have to wash the dishes.” Despite himself, Kunikida scoffed. “Why are you so worried about my health & diet? You’ve never shown an interest before.”

“I have!” He was offended now. He always encouraged her to get a salad or more vegetables when they went out. She just never listened to him. “It’s just…I’m here now. And you shouldn’t eat take out for every meal.”

“You know I cook my own meals when I’m back at school, right? I have a cheese grater and everything.” He doesn’t comment. Instead focusing more on the pan in front of him, as if should he take his eyes off it for a second it would burn. “Is that what this is about? Your bummed I’m going back soon?”

“I’m not ‘bummed’.” Kunikida insisted. He would never use that word. Devastated, depressed, desolate, those were all words he would use. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not around to do it for you.”

[Y/N] gave him a slight, listless smile, then wrapped her arms around his middle from behind. “I can take care of myself, you know.” She raised up on her toes to kiss his neck. “But…I appreciate the assist. It’s not for much longer. I’ll be finished with my program in another year, and I’ll be back for good.”

Kunikida whipped around and wrapped his arms around her to give her a full kiss. Overcome with emotion. Every time she came and left was getting harder for him. This….void she left when she was gone was getting wider & wider. The thought that soon she’d be here, within arm’s reach, every single day just filled him with so much joy that he had to express it.

“Kunikida…” Her voice was breathless in his ear as she clung to him. “…the chicken…”

“Fuck the chicken.” He growled back. Nothing else was as important as kissing her right now. They’d get takeout like she wanted anyway.

The two of them continue their kissing, quickly escalating into something more, when [Y/N] suddenly pushed him back. Kunikida had to catch himself on the counter to not fall on the floor. He was about to ask her ‘what the hell’ before his blood ran cold. “Oh…hi Daddy…”

“P-President….”

Nothing could have made this situation more awkward or worse as a tense moment settled neatly between all 3 of them.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#kunikida x reader #bsd x #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #kunikida doppo x reader #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa bsd

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sleekervae · 11 months ago

Text

New York Romantic .4

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom finds noelle locked out of her apartment

word count: 5849

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

warnings: alcohol consumption

Winter break was just around the corner, the days were becoming shorter but the assignments were getting longer. It was the final crunch before the holiday season and everybody -- even the professors -- were feeling the strain of long hours, chilled nights and the impending threat of black ice.

"One! And two! Up! Up! Steven! Lift your toes higher! You're a scorpion!" Stanis' voice boomed across the studio, a stark contrast to the gentle, peppy piano melody playing on the loudspeaker. He watched each of his dancers with a swift eagle eye, always the first to call out when someone was sloppy or off balance.

"Very good," he nodded as the music came to a close, turning then to another student in the second row, "Amber! Not so good. Are you okay?"

Amber, a petite young ginger, nodded sheepishly behind Noelle, "I was off balance," she admitted.

Stanis nodded, "Thank you... for stating the truth," he mumbled at the end, his accent someone becoming thicker the more he lowered his voice. He glanced at his wrist watch, then to the evening display just outside the window, "Let's call it a day, here! Go home! Ice your legs! Relax! We'll take it from the top tomorrow!"

The students had scattered before he could even finish, rushing to their lockers to grab their things and change for the frigid weather outside.

Noelle left with Iseul, the latter furiously texting on her phone as they walked over to their lockers, "How're you doing with the arts and poly paper?" she asked.

"Slowly," Noelle admitted, "How about you?"

"Like rubbing a cheese grater over my forehead," Iseul shrugged back, "It's all theoretical, philosophical nonsense I was hoping to leave behind in high school,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "You studied philosophy in high school?" she asked.

"To my chagrin, yes," Iseul simpered, "Take a note from me: don't send your kids to private school,"

"Noted," Noelle nodded, "Who're you texting?"

"Josh from modern. He's having a party next week," Iseul replied.

"After finals?"

"Mmhm. You wanna come with me?"

"What night?"

"Friday,"

Noelle grimaced, "We have showcase rehearsals til' six,"

"Yeah, but we also need a reason to let off some steam..." Iseul trailed off, feigning a pout her way, "Bianca will come,"

"I'll ask her later," they came to Noelle's locker, "Text me the details, I'll let you know,"

Iseul shrugged, walking backwards to her own locker, "Alrighty. Get home safe, Elles!"

"See ya tomorrow!" Noelle opened her locker and pulled out her bag, pulling out her sneakers, her jacket, digging through her purse for her transit card until she came to a harrowing realization.

She was missing her house key...

Tom had debated back and forth on going home for the holidays, it would be the first time he'd spend Christmas without his family and while he knew he would miss them terribly, the money was too much to splurge on -- on top of all his other expenses. He had finally found a job at least, a desk clerk at the library on campus. It paid minimum wage and he worked to the extent of his student visa, but earning some money was definitely better than having none. Plus it gave him time to focus on his own homework. The funds his mum had wired over definitely softened the buffer in his expenses.

He pulled his wool scarf tighter around his neck, his gloves doing little to ward off the frigid winds that had swept over New York. Not even crammed in a subway car with total strangers could warm him up. The weather had reported threats of snow but so far Mother Nature was holding out on them.

Doris had her feet propped up on her desk and a bowl of fresh popcorn in her lap when Tom ducked inside. Her eyes wide behind her glasses as she checked the time; 7:43pm.

"Hi Doris!"

"Well, well! You're home late!" she chided, a small smile playing at her lips, "What was her name?"

Tom chuckled back, approaching the desk, "Wasn't that kind of night. I was working," he replied.

"Oooh! That's right! I forgot you're a part of the system now!" she awed, "Well, don't let them push you over! If they give you any trouble you send them my way!" she pointed a bony, French manicured finger at him.

"No problem," Tom grinned back, "What's the plot tonight?" he pointed to her computer.

Doris enthusiastically sat up in her seat, passing him the bowl of popcorn, "Oh! It's Days of Our Lives! Stefano gave Marlena mind-altering drugs while she was sleeping, and he whisked her away into this fantasy romance world. But she's so vulnerable in this state she becomes possessed by the devil himself!" she whispered at the end.

Tom cocked a brow, too amused by her mannerisms to point out how terrible a flop that plot line was. He nodded nevertheless.

"Sounds interesting," he chuckled.

Doris rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't shit with me. It's completely ridiculous I know," she chided back.

"Don't spoil it for me, yeah?"

"In your dreams, buster," she smirked back, "Hey -- what was that show your dad worked on?"

"Emmerdale,"

"Was it any good?"

"According to The Telegraph, yeah," he nodded.

Doris leaned over her keyboard, "Well, don't tell nobody, but my husband's second cousin's nephew just introduced me to pirating on these special websites. He's gonna set up a VPN for me -- whatever that is," she whispered, "I'm gonna give it a go!"

Tom simpered with amusement, "That's great. Lemme' know what you think," he started backing off, "I'm assuming the elevator's still down?"

Doris nodded with an exaggerated sigh, "When my brother's wife's cousin gets a hold of her son in law, they're gonna give me a discount to get it fixed. He's an electrician," she replied, "For now, you just gotta leg it,"

"No worries. Take care, Doris!" and he started for the stairs.

"Oh! Tom!" she called him back before he disappeared, "You wanna check in on that dancer across the hall from you? She lost her key today and who knows what time her roommate's getting home,"

Tom's brows furrowed, his curiosity simmering, "Noelle or Bianca?" he asked.

"Noelle. Poor thing was so dejected when she came in," she shook her head, "I offered her a seat to wait here but she's just sitting in the hallway,"

"Don't you have a spare key?" he asked.

She scoffed back, rolling her eyes, "If my husband wasn't so cheap, yes. But now I gotta get a new key made for her -- because that's not gonna cost him less,"

Tom nodded sympathetically, "No problem. I'll see you later,"

He hopped his way up the stairs, the textbooks in his bag weighing down on his shoulder but the pep in his step was surprisingly fresh. And sure enough, he found Noelle sitting in front of her door. Her eyes were closed, her bag a folded mess beside her and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Tom was worried she may've been a sleep, but as he approached closer she opened one eye, sitting up and stretching when she saw him.

"Oh, hey!" she greeted groggily.

"Hi," Tom crouched down before her, and amused smile on his lips, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just resting my eyes,"

"I see," he nodded, "I've heard you had a day,"

She scoffed, shaking her head, "You don't know the half of it,"

He simpered, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she shrugged listlessly, "I locked the door when I left this morning. Somewhere between 7am and 6:45pm I lost my key along the way,"

His brows raised, "You've been out here for nearly an hour?" he nearly exclaimed.

Noelle nodded, "More like forty-five minutes,"

"Where's Bianca?"

"Rehearsing for our Christmas showcase. I can't disturb her right now," she replied, "It's okay, I've just been watching shit on Youtube,"

He smiled sympathetically, standing up straight, "Well, I'm here now. So you can hide out with me until she gets back," he said.

Noelle smiled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn as his gaze bore into her, "Oh, don't worry about it. Bianca'll be home soon," she assured him.

"Forty five minutes is already too long," he reasoned, "I'll feel better anyway knowing you're not out here by yourself,"

She smirked back, "Aww, are you worried about me, Tom?" she teased.

He tried so hard not to smile, rolling his eyes in an attempt to cover it up. So he extended his hand to her, "I'm an Aquarius; a smart person told me we're stubborn about this stuff,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, though nevertheless she held her hand up for him to grab. Tom pulled her to her feet, grunting as the force shoved his back into the wall and Noelle into his chest. They paused momentarily, gazes fixed in a time lock, her free hand suddenly burning against the wool covering his chest. Bashfulness pulled at their lips as Noelle stepped away and dusted herself off while Tom adjusted his jumper and coat.

"Sorry about that," she chuckled.

"No! It's okay!" he assured her, "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she picked up her bag, silently hoping he wouldn't pick off the pink tinging her cheeks, "After you,"

They stepped inside his loft, the room a little messier than what Tom would've liked but Noelle didn't seem to mind as she kicked her shoes off and sunk back into the couch, letting out an exasperated, heavy sigh. Tom laughed to himself as he peeled off his coat, to which Noelle pouted back.

"I can hear you, ya know," she called, mock accusation slipping from her tongue, "I'm glad my suffering is so entertaining for you!"

"My sincerest apologies," he simpered.

"Is Sunny here?" she asked, looking around the space curiously.

Tom shook his head, "He's out at a symposium tonight, some fancy composer I've never heard of. He'll be back in a bit. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she nodded, "What's cooking, Gordon Ramsay?"

Tom sauntered over to the fridge, swinging the door open as his eyes glazed over leftovers, and whatever sparse vegetables and random containers they had in there. All Sunny really had was his labelled orange juice, a six pack of fruit yogurt and some carrots -- while Tom barely had anything of his own in there. He really needed to go shopping.

"Alright, we're ordering in," he decided, coming to sit on the couch beside her, smiling coyly at her, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone,"

"How kind," she tittered, her head falling back against the cushion, "Whatever you feel like, I'm not picky,"

"... Sushi?"

"Love it,"

Forty minutes later they were both situated on the couch, Tom's laptop set up in front of them as BoJack Horseman played out on Netflix. They could hear the rain pattering against the window, the walls humming as the heat had kicked into high gear and in the moment the air held a nice, cozy warmth. The duo sat beside each other, his legs stretched out across the floor while she curled hers up close to her chest, shoulders just inches away from each other as they ate their dinner.

"So, what're you doing for Christmas?" she asked over the commotion from the show, "You going home?"

Tom shook his head, "Can't, I waited too long to book and the prices are ridiculous," he replied.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she awed.

"Don't be," he shrugged back, "I'm just gonna stay here,"

She sat up abruptly, "Not by yourself, are you?"

"Yeah. Sunny's going home for a week. It's alright, though," he assured with a swift nod, "Doris was offering me Christmas dinner at her place -- with her husband, her second cousin's nephew, her aunt twice removed or something..."

Noelle chuckled softly, "Are you gonna' go?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know. I might just fake sick to get out of it," he admitted sheepishly, "What about you? You going back to Maine?"

"No, my family are coming down. My uncle got a bonus at work so they're staying at the Ritz," she flourished her hand in the air, feigning an expression of shock and awe.

Tom laughed softly, "Sounds lovely,"

"Right? My aunt's all excited," she popped an avocado roll into her mouth.

"Are you gonna' stay with them?"

"Probably. But they're here just for a week," she glanced back at him, "I'll be hanging around though, if you wanna go hang out here and there?"

Tom was flattered, a little taken aback, but he considered the option. Spending any more time with Noelle was surely a plus no matter the occasion, though on the other hand she didn't want to take her away from her family.

"Oh, I don't -- I don't wanna impose on your visit like that," he replied.

"It wouldn't be imposing," Noelle shrugged back, "I just... I don't like seeing anybody alone during the holidays... and you're kinda cool to be around, so..." she glanced aside sheepishly.

He cocked a brow, "Noelle Berendina thinks I'm cool? Gosh, my mum's never gonna believe me!" he gawked.

Noelle rolled her eyes, slapping his arm gently, "Yeah, you are cool, you friggin' dork! And anyone who says otherwise has to fight me!"

He smirked back at her, "You get locked out of your own apartment... but I'm the dork?" he chuckled.

She feigned a pout, crossing her arms like a child and sinking back in the couch cushions, "I'm not saying you're wrong... but you're so mean," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, you wanna see mean, do you?" he leaned over and snatched a yam roll from her box, popping it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin.

Noelle gasped dramatically, her hand gripping her chest, "You son of bitch! How dare you!" she gaped, "I'm gonna call up your mom,"

"So you're a tattletale now?" he quipped.

"Only when someone needs to be tattled on," she reached over and took one of his salmon rolls for revenge.

He feigned his own insult, shaking his head mockingly at her while his teeth clenched down on his inner lip, trying not to laugh, "Okay, okay, if I think about your offer can we call it a truce?"

"Okay, deal. Truce," she offered him her hand, giggling bashfully as he shook on it with her, "Anyway, how are you doing with finals?"

"Alright, actually," he shrugged, "I got a paper due, we're performing monologues, and we're having a small improv show on Friday,"

"Oh really?" she shuffled closer, "You do much improv?"

"I'm not too bad," he admitted, "It took a long time for me to be okay with looking insane in front of people,"

"Well, isn't that a major part of being an actor? You can't be the one-dimensional cool guy all the time -- ya know, unless you're Ryan Gosling," she replied.

"Exactly," he nodded, "The only one I'm kind of worried about is Jordan,"

"Ichabod Crane?" she smirked, "Stanis didn't like his cool-guy-with-back-against-the-wall attitude,"

Tom snickered, "He was just doing it to impress the other girls,"

"Really? You could've fooled me!" she gawked sarcastically, "He's only one in a long line of cool guys who tried to play it off in dance class,"

"I promise, he's a nice guy," he assured her, "He's just... I don't know,"

Noelle gave an endearing smile, "Well anyway, if I go to a performance, I'm more likely to go for you than for him anyway," she replied.

A warmth swelled in his chest, and Tom pondered his next words carefully before he spoke, "I know you have rehearsals Fridays, but would you like to come to the show?" he asked.

Noelle cocked a brow, mulling it over in her head. On her baser instincts she wanted to shout an enthusiastic 'hell yea!', but her own showcase was approaching quickly.

"Hmm, what time does it start?"

"Six, in the McCallum Pavilion,"

She nodded slowly, "I finish at six usually, but if I sprint I could make it a little after -- if they accept late entries," she replied, "I'm also supposed to go to this party after... but -- would you be down to come with?"

Tom was a little unsure at first, he was still shy, didn't know many people, and if a lot of these people were dancers then they may have been wondering why he was there.

Though it was as if Noelle could read his mind, "There's gonna be some other acting and music students there, not just dancers," she assured him.

"Alright," he nodded, "So, you come to the improv show and I come to the party with you after?"

She shrugged lithely, "Well, if you wanna' make it sound so transactional..." she feigned an eye roll.

Tom shook his head, "I didn't --" but he stopped when he saw her coy smirk. Rolling his eyes he nudged her, his elbow knocking gently into her side, "Shut up,"

"Make me," she shot back snidely.

He pondered it for a moment -- just a moment -- how close she was, her cocky attitude dripping off her tongue and her dark brown eyes goading him into mischief. His own eyes averted to her lips, it was only for a second, but he thought about how soft she might feel, how she may taste of soy sauce and ginger, and how quickly he should shut her up so easily.

But he didn't, he wouldn't dare step over that boundary so hastily. So his only retaliation was to steal another one of her sushi rolls.

Time became a lesser construct as the night went on. Sunny had come home around nine-thirty, exhausted and hungry as he kicked off his shoes. He didn't give a second glance to the mismatched laced sneakers at the door, only stopping when he sat the back of Tom's head peaking from behind the couch. Curled up beside him was Noelle, the both of them fast asleep in front of the rolling credits for BoJack Horseman.

Friday night rolled around sooner than many students would've liked. So many projects were due, so many deadlines were crossed and the majority of students were burning at the end of their candle.

The first year drama students had their first showcase tonight; an improv show that was only really open to family and friends. The McCallum Pavilion was a small studio space not often looked upon in conjunction with the rest of the campus, not even Tom knew of its existence until he was brought in for rehearsals. It was a relatively large space, dark indigo walls and dark, heavy hanging curtains that shrouded a risen platform. There was a single spotlight that was operated by a crew member and six rows of ten chairs set up before the platform.

By ten to six the chairs were already being filled, handfuls of faces that Tom didn't know as he peaked out from behind the curtain. The only face he could recognize was Sunny, his visage murky between passing bodies but he looked enthusiastic nonetheless. He kept his bag on the empty chair beside him and told people he was saving the spot for a friend.

"Tom!" his instructor hissed from behind, drawing him back from the curtain by his arm, "What're you doing over here? They're running warmups, we're on in ten minutes!"

"Sorry! I'm going!" he nearly tripped over himself as he dashed for the green room.

Simultaneously, Noelle had just stuffed her dance bag into her locker (ensuring her new key was safely tucked inside) before taking off in a sprint down the hallway. She had begged and bartered with Stanis all week to let her go early today, and after some pushing and kissing ass he eventually agreed. Bianca and Iseul were of course perplexed when she dashed out of the studio.

The entirety of the campus could be walked in about twenty minutes one way, but it was already five-to-six and she still had little idea where the McCallum Pavilion was. But her best start was the drama department, and from there she would have to figure it out.

Sure enough at the stroke of six the lights came down and the spotlight focused in on the stage. The audience gave a roaring applause as Tom's instructor, Charles, took to the stage. A portly older gentleman, he kept his hands clasped behind his back, smiling gleefully at the crowd through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you! I appreciate you all coming out tonight to support our first years. They've been working incredibly hard all semester to bring you this show, the first of many that they will be performing for a live audience," he was very soft spoken, though his voice carried a great range all the way to the back of the studio, "Our first performance I lovingly refer to as 'Change'. We're going to have two performers come up, an audience member gives them a scenario they have to act out. And when they hear 'Change!', they have to change the scenario on the fly. Please note, the audience is not allowed to shout at the actors, we have a designated 'change' person,"

Noelle had followed the campus map on her phone as best as she could, finally meandering her way down an obscure hallway and sure enough there was a sandwich board outside the door advertising for the show.

Tom and another student, Marcelle, were the first ones selected to come up on the stage. The audience cheered as they came under the spotlight, and Tom couldn't help but wipe his palms on the back of his pants, hoping his nerves wouldn't betray him.

He didn't hear the click of the door opening, nor did he see Noelle slip into the crowd and find her place next to Sunny. Sunny lit up as soon as he saw her and moved his bag.

"Hey,"

"Hi," they both whispered, "Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"You're just in time, they're starting," he replied.

An audience member was selected and Tom and Marcelle were given the scenario: two people in an old folks home trying to watch TV. Marcelle took a seat in the pre-positioned chair and Tom hunched his back. He started waddling over to Marcelle, his hand positioned as though he had a remote in his hand and his eyes were squinting.

"Marcelle?"

"Yes?"

"Marcelle, can you hear me!?" he squawked.

Marcelle was slightly hunched in her own chair, "Yes, I can hear you Tom!" she boomed back.

Tom turned to the audience, pointing his invisible remote at them, "I'm trying to change the channel on the television!"

"It's not on, Tom!" she snapped, agitation in her voice.

Then a voice behind the curtain shouted, "Change!" and Marcelle's dialogue switched.

"It's never been on, Tom!"

"Change!"

"It's a microwave!" and the crowd began to laugh.

Tom's face twisted in anguish, "It's a microwa- oh! Oh the crows feet is getting to me now!" he cried, shuffling back and forth like an old man, "I don't know left from right!"

"Change!"

"I don't know right from left!"

"Change!"

"I don't know to from fro!"

"Change!"

"I don't know if I have a fro!" and they paused as the audience laughed some more. Noelle and Sunny were plenty amused already at the debauchery on stage.

"You're bald!" Marcelle shouted back at him, obviously go for a bit, "For goodness sake, Tom! I've gotta find myself a new roommate! I'm making a complaint!" and she went to get up from her seat.

"Change!"

And she sat down again, "I'm gonna sit right here, and hope that you die quickly!"

Tom gasped in horror, bemusing the crowd even more, "Marcelle, why are you always so mean to me!?" he cried.

"Change!"

"Why're you always so lovely to me?" and he perked up immediately.

"Change!"

And he sauntered over to where Marcelle was sitting, "I would like you to tell me a story," and he looked to the audience, "About me when I was younger. What was I like before I was bald?" on his last word his gaze fixed on Sunny, and then Noelle right beside him. He swallowed a nervous chuckle, unable to help but grin like a fool nonetheless.

Marcelle sighed heavily, slouching in her chair and dropping her head back before he stared up at Tom, "You were a brave man --!"

"Change!"

"You were a coward!"

"Change!"

"You were an electrician!"

"Change!"

"You were a pilot!"

"Change!"

"You were a storm trooper!" Tom had his hands on his hips, nodding as he looked quite pleased with that answer. Noelle couldn't help but laugh along with the crowd, drawn in by Tom's charisma and pairing unhinged behaviour.

"Change!"

Marcelle huffed, "You were the type of man who leaves his wife at the altar!" and the audience let out a round of hissing and ooohs. At that Tom's demeanour changed, picking at threads of shame and dismay. Though he was doing everything in his power not to laugh.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Change!"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Change!"

"Lovely biscuit!"

"Change!"

"My mother!" he suddenly shouted, his voice breaking towards the end. Marcelle bit her lip as not to laugh as well.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

Tom turned back to her, "I can see --"

"Change!"

And he jumped back, waving his arms as he looked around, "Oh my gosh! I can't see!"

"Change!"

And he straightened his posture, "H-How dare you remind me of that!" he shouted at Marcelle.

Marcelle came forward in her seat, "She was my sister!" she shouted back, "She never got over it!"

"But you're my wife, Marcelle!" he exclaimed.

"And she never forgave me!"

"Change!"

"She forgave me quite quickly!"

At that Charles came out from behind the curtain, closing the scene. Tom and Marcelle took a bow and were ushered off the stage to make room for the next pair. The scene was no more than under two minutes but Noelle was plenty entertained. She was captivated, utterly amused, and pleasantly surprised by Tom's performance. She hadn't imagined he could be so dramatic and comically absurd for the life of her.

As the curtains fell on the captivating improv show, the buzz of excitement lingered in the air. People spilled out, chatter filled with laughter and lingering anticipation. Tom had linked up with Noelle and Sunny afterwards, the both of them singing his praises.

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Tom, Noelle, and Sunny had made it across town to the house party. Josh, a second year from modern contemporary, was a close enough acquaintance that he didn't bat an eye when Noelle came strolling in with her friends.. Within the confines were ten or twelve other kids, all within their age. Some of them Tom recognized as the other ballerinas, some he knew from his own department. The house smelled distinctively of air freshener and hot food, pizza from down the street no doubt. There was a stereo somewhere blasting hits off of Billboard's Top 100.

"Hey!" Bianca's voice suddenly boomed, "You made it!" the blonde ballerina threw her arms around Noelle, nearly falling into her in fact as her socks slipped on the varnished hardwood. Noelle chuckled, though she could smell the bitter tang of vodka and ale coming off her breath already.

"Yep. I told you," Noelle said, pulling her upright on her feet, "B, what time did you start drinking?"

"Right when I got here,"

"And that was...?"

"Oh, about six-thirty," she replied with a drunken giggle.

"And you couldn't wait for me?" she gawked back.

Bianca ignored her, her hazy focus then zeroing on the boys behind her, "Oh my gosh! Tom, you came!" she suddenly had her arms around him in a tight hug, it was the most attention she had paid to him in the time they'd known each other.

"Hi Bianca!" he chuckled, a little taken aback at first.

"And Sunjit, too!" she then went into hug Sunny, "You never come to these things!"

Sunny smiled bashfully, shrugging his shoulders. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd really fit in with the dancers and actors, "... I just figured, it's the end of the term, so..."

Bianca's face lit up, "Then, we have to get you a drink. Come on!" she took his hand and lead him off in another direction. Tom and Noelle glanced at each other, he had a bewildered grin on his face while she was shaking her head.

"That's the friendliest she's ever been with me!" he awed.

She chuckled sheepishly, "Her demeanour usually melts with some vodka,"

Regardless of Bianca's lightweight mannerisms, the kids dispersed through the party, slowly getting to mingle and chat with the other kids. Tom had gotten acquainted with a few more students from different departments, he had made the acquaintance of one particular musician, Connie, a saxophone major in her third year. However, he found his gaze kept shifting, always searching out for Noelle's face in the crowd.

He eventually spotted her on the couch, engrossed in conversation with another guy. He had seen him around a few times, another dancer but he wasn't a ballet major. He could see how she laughed, how her shoulders bounced and her eyes fluttered, so entertained by whatever joke the other guy was telling her. Tom didn't like feeling jealous, he knew he had no right to be so but he couldn't help himself. Resent was bubbling in his gut, on the skim of it was insecurity because this guy was quite attractive. There was an aura of self-assurance surrounding him that Tom longed to possess. He aspired to captivate and amuse Noelle just as effortlessly as this person did.

"Hey, Tom," Iseul suddenly appeared from behind him, "You okay?"

Tom glanced at her, nodding swiftly, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good,"

Iseul's gaze fixed on Noelle and the other boy, and her face fell, "That's Daniel. He's a hip hop dancer, but the professors call him 'slack-ass'," she mumbled, "Honestly... I think Noelle could do way better..." at that she turned her gaze back to Tom, a coy smile teasing at her lips.

At one point a game of truth or dare had broken out, silly, juvenile questions were asked and immature, embarrassing dares were completed. When Tom was put on the spot, he should have known better than to trust Josh, the host, and his precarious questions.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Josh practically howled with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Iseul glowered, about to tell him off but Bianca beat her to it.

“Shut up, Josh. It’s not that big of a deal,”

Josh sat up straight, looking down at Bianca as she sat on the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down, “Hey, I’m your senior – you gotta’ talk to me with a bit more respect,” he prodded teasingly, but Noelle only rolled her eyes, her previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Josh's insensitive comment.

Her tone was excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah? I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to your juniors...”

Iseul laughed, shaking off the flurry of red in her cheeks, “Don’t worry about me, B. I don’t think I can take Josh very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum,”

The circle of friends in the basement erupted into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“Ouch!” one of Josh's friends said, leaning across the floor to high-five her.

Josh stuttered, failing at serving a good comeback, “It’s okay, Josh,” Noelle laughed, her sympathetic tone condescending, “maybe there’s a tutorial online,”

“I know how to make a girl cum!” he snapped. Everyone just laughed, even Tom and Sunny, ignoring him and carrying on with the game.

"Iseul, it's your turn," another girl, Monica, reminded them.

Iseul's dark eyes flitted across the bleary faces of her friends. In that moment she singled out Tom, partly because he had gone unnoticed by others and partly because she was feeling mischievous. "Tom, truth or dare?"

"Truth," he answered confidently, to which another kid jeered at him.

"Hey, boring! You chose truth last round, man!" he pointed out.

"So what?" Sunny asked from the couch, squished between Iseul and another music student, "Let him do what he wants,"

Tom's primary instincts urged him to stick with the truth. However, he found himself contemplating that Iseul was a genuine sweetheart — how bad could her dare really have been?

"No, it's alright," he assured Sunny, turning back to Iseul, "Let's do dare," he tried to ignore Noelle's coy smile from his left periphery.

"I dare you to kiss Noelle," nope, he was very, very wrong.

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"What?" Noelle was suddenly attentive; her eyes widened, her lips stiffened with a mix of surprise and hesitation.

“With tongue, and for 10 seconds,” she added. In that moment, Tom took back every kind word and thought he ever had for Iseul.

“Wait, wait, don’t I get a say in this?” Noelle asked, her pretty gaze nearly overwhelming as she turned to Tom.

Josh began to make chicken noises, flapping his arms and bopping his head. Meanwhile Bianca was trying desperately to hide her giggles behind her solo cup.

"Either you do the dare, or you take a shot," Iseul reminded him

Tom looked back at Noelle, who was still looking at him. Instead of arguing with Iseul and letting her have more fun, he ignored her and softly asked, “Is it ok?”

“-- Sure” she smiled reassuringly – her confidence flooding his system with surprise and ardor.

With each beat, his heart raced, a relentless drumbeat echoing within him. He had experience with some other girls, yet the mere anticipation of her tender lips against his provoked an intense surge of excitement. The thought of her soft touch had his heart yearning to break free from the confines of his ribcage, making the moment more exhilarating and daunting at the same time.

His lips met hers tentatively at first, but Noelle's hand found its way to his neck, pulling him closer. They were locked in a more natural, passionate embrace. As their lips melded together, his whiskey-flavored lips meeting her cherry ones, a surge of anticipation coursed through them. Amidst the faint countdown from Bianca and another student, the surrounding sniggering served as a backdrop to their shared moment. Fuck.

Tom pulled back, his eyes wide with embarrassment and his cheeks as red as blood. Noelle also seemed slightly surprised, her eyes sticking to his as they sat frozen in place. Josh's voice broke them out of the trance, “Seems that wasn’t such a bad dare after all,“

“Shut up,” Noelle murmured while taking a swig of her drink, hoping the bitterness would wash away the arousing taste of Tom from her lips.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #original story #original female character #imagines #imagine blog

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jev-urisk · 8 days ago

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(Late) WIP Wednesday ✍️

Heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyy~ Who wants to come be a little distracted today? Here, I've got a slice of my progress for 🌐7 Circles🌐 for yall! This comes from Chapter 9, Tea Party, Kazimier POV.

It had made for a damn dull time. The past two weeks had felt like a cheese grater to the forehead. The same, the same, the same. The same closet-prison-room with no knob, no vents, no popcorn ceiling- just five white surfaces grounded by short commercial carpet. Who would have guessed that gettin’ collared and shipped across the whole of Halkyon would be so.. stale. It had been a relief initially- just because Kazimier didn’t need sleep didn’t mean he wasn’t exhausted after the clusterfuck of tribulations that led him to that closet. So yes, it HAD been nice to sit in familiar darkness that very first night, to stare at that blank door and let his mind sift through all the events that passed and all the events that were waiting right around the corner. That comfort faded quick though- each day felt too much like the last. It was the first time in a long while that Kazimier fuckin’ wished he slept like others do. After dissecting whatever each day dealt him, his mind could only spin in the dark white box and the same 8-or-so hours always felt like 16-or-so hours when the door finally opened again and Klaus reluctantly ordered him up and out. And that- that reluctance. It was an unseeable wound in the man, festering with each barked order and slowly bleeding out until every action was beautifully stained by it. It wasn’t reluctance over letting Kazimier out, or being associated with such a ‘Lower’ as 4th-class hybrid, or even the burden Nexi squawk on about over teaching a criminal to be a ‘respectable citizen’. Ha! Kazimier would love to meet a being capable of making him respectable. No. No.. the reluctance seemed to be over forcing Kazimier to do things, over acting like the owner. Nexi loved orderin’ lowers around like they loved unpronounceable cheeses. Klaus didn’t. He started strong, sure, all- ‘I had to put you in my own clothing’, and ‘This is your final warning’, and ‘your place is either behind me, or at my feet.’ with a curious heat to his voice. He started strong but couldn’t keep up that strength for the life of him- and it’s only been two weeks. How mortal-minded..

I have a new job that's taking up a lot of my brain right now but once I settle in I'm sure I'll be back to the usual posts (and getting around to the small stack of asks in my inbox!). I hope you all are staying safe, and connecting with your communities this week.

7C Taglist: @gioiaalbanoart @biblicallyaccuratefruitbat @lychhiker-writes @autism-purgatory

@wyked-ao3 @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @smellyrottentrees @tragedycoded

@aalinaaaaaa @the-golden-comet @quillswriting @nbkuhn @ddgraywrites

@desastreus @theglitchywriterboi @shanakin-skywalker @honeybewrites @sincerelydorky

@the-letterbox-archives (Hmu to be +/- to this Taglist!)

#7 circles #urban fantasy #writeblr #oc #queer fantasy #7c kazi #wip wednesday #demon oc #original character #wip #writers on tumblr #writing progress #writing update #captured

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tgmsunmontue · 7 months ago

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More than movie magic... 19/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.

NINETEEN

“Sorry, sorry. Sorry I’m late. Jake’s mom is way more terrifying than you. Hopefully I won’t need more than one shovel talk.”

Marcia snorts and shakes her head, gestures to where Bob is working and Bradley is grateful that he brought him along with how easily he just seems to know what needs to be done. Man deserves a bonus for this job for sure, picking up Bradley’s slack, uncharacteristic as it is. It’s not a usual situation and he knows Bob will understand that.

“Also, Marcia, I need to warn you that Pete’s on his way. I apologize in advance for anything and everything he says.”

“Ugh. It’s fine. Thanks for the warning though. I’ll put him to work and then refuse to put his name in the credits. Serve him right for just turning up and expecting to be welcomed.”

“You’re the best. Thanks.”

“Yeah yeah, now get to work and bring us back on schedule hmm?

“Yes ma’am!” Bradley replies, tipping an imaginary hat. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, makes a shooing gesture with her hands and Bradley grins.

“Not you too!”

“It’s rubbing off on me!” Bradley calls back.

“Rubbing off on something, your boy looks like he got attacked by a cheese grater and then used lemon juice as a moisturizer. You’re going to need to start shaving twice a day,” Natasha mutters, reaching out to whack him on the arm as he walks past. “Maybe consider getting rid of the caterpillar huh?”

“I happen to like the caterpillar,” Jake interjects, and he looks a little uncertain about interrupting them but Bradley reaches for him, pulls him into a side-hug, leaves his arm around Jake’s waist and feels Jake relax against him. He thinks about Aunty Kaye saying maybe he’ll believe you and he just squeezes a little more, pokes his tongue out at Natasha’s eye roll.

“You two are gross. Can we get on with doing what we’re meant to be doing?”

“Sure sure…”

… … …

It’s meant to be all long distance action shots today of them riding and corralling, and Natasha and Rueben are proficient riders, comfortable in their seats even if they don’t quite look born to it. That’s fine, Javy and Callie aren’t playing characters born to it like Jake is.

“You know, your mom just gave me the most eloquent shovel talk I’ll ever receive.”

Jake snorts.

“She was an English and Drama teacher, what were you expecting?”

“Well, the fact that it was also a pep talk was sort of weird…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she said she’d do the same to you if she found out if you hurt me. Physically, emotionally or mentally.”

“What did she threaten you with?” Jake asks, because his mom is not one for violence, not even threatening it. She was always pretty creative with Jake and his siblings growing up, which is almost worse than threatened violence which will never actually eventuate. His mom always believed in only ever threatening things she was fully committed to following through on.

“Uh. Just a disappointed look? For either of us if we screw it up on purpose?”

Jake bursts into laughter.

“Oh god. You don’t know her very well yet, but uh, when she says that, she really means it. It’s not just an in person look. She’ll take a photo of herself, she will then print it, and she will post it to you. She will email it to you. Post it on all her social media accounts. She’ll rent advertising space and put text saying I am disappointed in you with the photo. It’s… it’s horrifying. And I haven’t had her do that to me thankfully, but my sister, oh boy… It stops when you make it right. Or when she thinks you’ve suffered sufficiently.”

“Well, I’m glad you have her in your corner. And I don’t need her to threaten me to do the best for you, I want to do that anyway.”

“You a secret romantic there?”

“No secret about it. I grew up surrounded by love stories.”

Jake pulls a face, because while there might be plenty of love stories in Hollywood, there are also plenty of affairs and divorces. Bradley seems to pick up on his train of thought.

“Nothing worth it is easy. I don’t scare easily. Not afraid of hard work. But the love story I was thinking of was my parents. And you have your parents. Those love stories are where we should be looking.”

Jake blinks, throat a little tight and he nods, because yeah, that kind of love story is something he believes in.

… … …

“Seresin.”

Jake looks up, and he doesn’t recognize the person addressing him but something about the way he said his name has him straightening up and his stomach flips, because yeah, if he hadn’t known Tom Kazansky was going to be arriving today he wouldn’t have recognized him, but now that he’s looking this man is him. Older and greyer, but still recognizable if you know who you’re looking at.

“Mr Kazansky, it’s nice to meet you,” Jake says, holding out his hand.

There’s a brief hesitation before Tom Kazansky is shaking his hand and the man is a multiple award winning director and screen writer, albeit no longer as prolific as he was twenty or even ten years ago, but he still has a presence that expects people to listen to him when he talks. He’s a little intimidating, but not because of his reputation in Hollywood. This is Bradley’s other parental figure and he desperately wants to make a good impression.

“And you. Pete’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh. Okay,” Jake says and grimaces a little, because he’d rather that he’d heard all about Jake from Bradley, but he guesses they’re new, Bradley wouldn’t have had time to talk about him to his parental figures.

“Don’t worry, I only believe about half of what Pete tells me.”

“How do you know what half to believe?”

“Experience,” Kazansky says dryly and Jake bites his lip in amusement, ducks his head so it won’t be noticed. “Also Pete is prone to exaggeration. He’s likely bothering Marcia and Arnold. And Bradley. Thought I’d come and introduce myself.”

Jake nods.

“Bradley didn’t tell me about you until just this morning, hasn’t really had a chance to tell me anything. I know he was planning on a family dinner when we get back to LA.”

“Yes. Pete sort of forced Bradley’s hand there. You’ll get used to it. I hope.”

“Bradley has already warned me that Parent-Pete is different from the Professional-Pete that I know, but I’m not going to be scared off by threats or anything. Bradley’s already having to deal with that from my mom, so it seems like the bare minimum I can do.”

“It’s not the threats I’d be worried about when it comes to Pete. And I guess I get Partner-Pete and you get Parent-in-law-Pete. Lord help us.”

Jake thinks he’s going to like him, once he gets to know him better. Seems to have a dry sense of humor and actually… reminds him a lot of his dad.

“I don’t know if you’re wanting to hang around the set, but if you want a quiet place to just, sit and chill, my dad is at home. He doesn’t get out much since his accident, prefers peace and quiet. You’re welcome to wait there, if you don’t want to hang around the set that is.”

He’s aware he’s rambling a little, but by the expression on Tom Kazansky’s face he’s letting Jake do it deliberately.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

TWENTY

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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thesandsofelsweyr · 8 months ago

Text

AN APPLE A DAY

《 READ ON AO3 》

Joker teaches Jason some manners.

《RATING》 Mature 《WORDS》 839

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Harley Quinn, Bruce Wayne (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Whump

《WARNINGS》 Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Teeth Pulling, Torture, Blood and Gore

《SERIES》 Part 1 of My Arkhamverse, Part 1 of Ruined

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @betty-1880 @deans-spinster-witch @hlg8 @plantixst

《NOTES》

If you enjoy the read, please consider reblogging 💚

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are much appreciated!)

When the pliers clamp down around his front tooth, Jason shatters.

“Thank you sir! THANK YOU SIR!” he screams a blood-sputtering scream, his words slurring around the cold, pitiless metal that’s shoved into his pried-open jaws. His heart’s pounding fists against the cage of his chest, pumping fear through his veins. He prays that’s enough as he shakes like a puppy on the fourth of July. He gave the psycho what he wanted: he called the man “sir,” like some fucked-up sex roleplay.

Joker has been punishing him for running his mouth. Again. For laughing in his pasty white face when the Party City Clown informed him that he’d be calling the freak “sir” from now on. “You can take your ‘sir’ and shove it up your ass,” were his exact words. The old Jason may not have regretted those words—that kid probably would’ve thought this agony was worth it. But that kid’s gone now, murdered by a photo. Batman had bitched at him many times for his loud mouth while on patrol. Probably yet another reason why Bruce picked a new kid for the job; why the rejected kid now has eight throbbing holes in his swollen gums.

Warm, coppery blood dribbles from the corners of his mouth, coating his busted lower lip in crimson gore. His breath’s coming in frantic pants, on the edge of hyperventilating. His armored chest full of broken ribs heaves beneath the heavy braided ropes that bind him to the wooden chair, ropes that squeeze his lungs like a giant’s fist. Nailless fingers dig into the material of his gloved palms as he balls his fists behind his back. No more, he silently prays yet another useless prayer as tears roll down his scarred cheeks. Please no more…

He’s a dumbass for holding out so long. Ten teeth—at least—gone from his mouth now. Two from the fucking crowbar, eight from the Clown’s pliers. And for what? To impress the man who left him here to rot? The man he considered his father. His partner who picked a new kid rather than bother finding the old one.

The gloved fist twisted into his matted black hair tightens, tearing at his scalp, then wrenches his head back even further, so those slime-colored eyes can bore down into his pale blue ones. “Be more specific,” Joker says casually, as if they were discussing the weather over a cup of coffee and not the eight bloody teeth scattered on the table in front of him.

“Thank you for…” His shattered mind races in circles, groping for the right words through the immense drumbeat of agony that’s consuming him.

“I think the patient needs another extraction, Doctor J,” Harley suggests in that screechy voice of hers that’s like a cheese grater over his ear drums. He cuts his eyes at her, bent in half with her elbows on the table, chin in her hands, grinning from ear to ear like some sadistic schoolgirl.

“Excellent diagnosis, nurse!” Joker exclaims, tightening his grip on the pliers.

Jason's heart drops out of his chest as molten panic engulfs him. He sucks down a gasp of air. “Thank you for torturing me!” he wails desperately, words tumbling free of his raw throat. “Thank you for yanking my teeth out!”

A heavy silence settles over the room, smothering him. He can feel his eyes snapping back and forth in his skull, futilely searching for an escape. Seconds pass like hours as he waits, terror mounting with each whimpery wheeze. Then Joker pulls the pliers free of his bloody mouth, releasing his fistful of hair.

Jason chokes out a sob as the panic loosens its grip; as relief floods in, carrying the awful pain back with it. He blinks away the stars that whitewash his vision. His jaw aches from being forced open for so long, his neck aches as he straightens. He coughs up the blood pooled in the back of his throat.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it pumpkin?” Joker croons, mussing his sweat-soaked hair before stepping in front of him. Blood red lips skin back from rotten yellow teeth. “Such a well-mannered boy deserves a nice reward, doncha think?”

No, please no… His insides twist into tight knots, dreading this “nice reward,” which probably includes more torture. He sucks in a fearful gasp as Joker pulls something from his coat, tosses it in the air once, then plops it down in front of him. His reward? An apple. The freshest, reddest, juiciest, crispiest looking apple he’s ever laid eyes on. Drool mixes with blood and trickles down his cracked lips. His hollow stomach growls and aches. After months of being fed nothing but rotten, sometimes maggot-infested food, the Clown’s giving him an apple. And the thought of biting into that delicious apple with his broken teeth and throbbing gums is enough to tear a miserable sob from his throat.

Jason bows his head as helpless tears stream from his red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you, sir,” he whimpers.

#sands writes #series: ruined #my arkhamverse #jason todd #robin #joker #harley quinn #bruce wayne #arkham asylum #arkham knight #arkhamverse #dcu #jason todd fanfiction #whump #mouth whump #teeth pulling

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he-goes-down · 1 year ago

Text

There Was A Time:

A/n: OMG SORRY IF THIS IS HORRIBLE IM SICK AND MY HEAD BE FLOATING

ENJOY THO

Pervious chapters/ warnings

3. Nice Boys:

Second person POV:

You woke up to the sound of clattering and clanging in the kitchen. You rubbed your eyes and groaned, when you opened them, you realised that you were in Duff's room. "What the fuck!" You yelled, but it was soft as your voice was still waking up as well. You aggressively lifted the covers and looked down. 'Phew, my clothes are still on.' You sighed a sigh of relief. You didn't remember how you got to Duff's bed, but hopefully nothing happened. 'Okay back to bed' All that strong panic and crashing relief so early in the morning made you tired. You took the covers and laid down, holding them to your shoulder and closed your eyes. The idea of getting more sleep started crashing down when there was a loud knock on the door. "Wake up we need you in the kitchen!" The person on the other side yelled. You groaned in annoyance and turned over, flipping open the covers and getting out of bed. The cold air hitting your feet and arms made you shiver, you opened the door to see Izzy standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes widen, he was surprised to see you come out of Duff's room. "Where's Duff?" He asked, rather rudely as he looked you up and down. He probably thought the same thing you panicked about this morning. "I don't know." You responded, "What do you need help with?" You asked as you stretched and yawned. "Well, Axl-..." "I didn't do fucking anything!" You heard Axl scream from the kitchen. The sounds of his pounding footsteps approached you and Izzy, "And if you tell Duff that-... Oh?" He paused when he saw that it was just the two of you and smirked at you. "Axl I'm gonna grind your balls on the cheese grater, nothing happened between us." You told him firmly, while pointing at him. He held his hands up in surrender with an even smugger look on his face and waltzed back to the kitchen.

In the end, Duff went out to get more food and booze. While he was gone you helped clean the mess Axl made in the kitchen, he someone caught the sink on fire when he wanted to 'cool off' and 'fix' his jet black, hard ashy bacon he conjured up. You also made them new breakfast and taught Axl how to properly cook bacon, he was very reluctant at first and cussed you out, but he soon had a laugh about it. "This is so fucking good." Steven sighed as he inhaled his breakfast "Can't you just stay here forever and make this every morning." He smiled, and his blonde hair bounced like popcorn popping in the microwave. "Yeah, and sleep with Duff every night" Axl's deep voice range over the table. You looked up to see him and Slash giggling with each other like two teenage girls. Izzy had a disgusted look on his face, and Duff started to go a bit red. "That's not what happened. Y/n slept in my room, and I slept on the couch. That's it." Duff cleared his voice, you were grateful, but you knew Axl couldn't help himself. "I need to call my manager. Can I use the phone?" You asked. Duff nodded and you stood up, so did he but he was heading for the bathroom. "That phone and my dick are the only thing that work in this damn house." Axl said as he dumped his dishes in the sink and tried to turn the tap. You rolled your eyes as you punched in the numbers of your manager.

"Hey, I got a band. They're sick. I just know they'll be the biggest thing ever." You spoke, you didn't say this just to make the guys favour you, you already knew that they are in the future. "I trust your intuition. We'll be able to get them a studio in a few months, it's a bit busy here. We might be able to get them into Sound City. How many members?" Your manager spoke. "Five" You answered, "That might take a bit longer then, sorry doll." He spoke. "But don't worry, we'll slot them in soon." "Thanks sir." You responded. "Oh, and your landlord called in 'cause he couldn't get hold of you, I can switch him over for you." He said. "Yes, thank you."

There was a beep, a pause, and a static crack. You heard your landlord cough up flehm, and his cigarette voice rang through the phone. "Who's this again?" He chewed. "Y/n? You called my work today." You answered. "Oh yeah, I had to throw your shit out. I got some high paying tenants coming in, sorry toots." And he hung up the phone.

You stood there with the phone in hand, shocked, your mouth slightly a gape, paralysed. Every emotion was rushing through you, anger was the biggest one. You could see now why there was a large hole in the wall next to phone, you wanted to punch something too. A swarm of fear and panic ran through your head, there was a loud ringing in your ear. You didn't even realise someone was calling your name, you snapped out of it, you felt a tear run down your cheek and wiped it away quickly. "Hey, you okay? What'd they say?" Axl asked as he dried one of the dishes. "Hm? Oh, yeah, he said we could get a studio in a few months. It's gonna be a private one just for you guys so that's why." You explained, trying not to burst into tears and hope they didn't notice. "Cool!" Slash said, as he pumped the air and shoulder bumped with Steven. "Excuse me a minute." You spoke and dashed out the front door. You felt sick, you wanted to throw up, your legs were shaking.

You sank to the steps of the front porch and put your head on your knees. "Shit." You choked back tears, you were thinking of all the things that are probably in some disgusting New York dumpster getting eaten by rats. Your polaroid's of friends, favourite clothes, shit your whole record collection, even the stuff your dead relatives gave you. It was all gone. You breathed hard, you didn't want to cry, you didn't want to panic. You already had enough of it, and it's only been a day. Your heart jumped when you heard the door open and one of the floorboards creak. "Yo, the guys are gonna head to a bar you wanna-... Oh shit." It was Slash. He hissed as he sucked in air, he didn't know what to do. "You okay?" "No, No, I'm fine. I just needed air." You coughed as you got up. He knew something was up, but you weren't budging and he didn't want to step over boundaries. "Hey babes, you going or not?... Shit, you look wrecked." But there was always Axl to step over the line for you. The ginger look confused, at you. Your eyes were red, ready to explode. "Does the place stink that much?" He laughed, but it was just silence. Awkward silence. Slash gave him a look. "Hey, sorry I-... what's wrong?" He put a hand on your shoulder and asked sincerely. "My landlord kicked me out..." You whispered quietly, "All my stuff is gone." You started to tear up thinking about it, and how embarrassing it was that you were about to cry in front of your new band. Slash came in to hug you, his hair covered your face so no one could see the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. "Hey, hey, it's okay let it out. You can cry." His soft voice was like a lullaby. You rested your head on his chest as you sobbed and hugged him. Axl rubbed your back, making small jokes and flirts trying to lighten your mood. You tried your hardest to stop crying, you sniffed as you lifted your head off Slash's chest. "Thanks guys." You sighed a chuckle while wiping your face. "You can still come with us to the bar, it'll cheer you up. Promise." Axl said craning his neck over your shoulder to look at you. You exhaled and nodded a yes.

You washed your face before going out, and told Axl and Slash not to tell anyone. You just wanted to forget about it and drink. You dressed into a pair of black jeans, docs, a black white tank and your trusty leather jacket. You and the guys were downtown in a dark bar drink at 12 and it felt good honestly. You were sitting in a red leather booth, Axl next to you with his arm on top of the booth behind you, Steven on your other side, Slash, Izzy then Duff at the other end of the booth. You and Duff were on your 5th shot of Vodka, giggling about anything and nothing. You snapped out of it when you felt a tap on your shoulder, you looked to Steven, but it was Axl who had his arm looming over your shoulder from behind the booth seat. He had his hat on with sunglasses so you couldn't make direct eye contact with him but god his eyes were still pulling you in. "I was thinking... Why don't you stay with us?" You nearly spat out the drink that wasn't in your mouth. "Seriously?" "You still got your job don't ya? So, it won't take that long for you to get enough money to get your own place again. Besides, we'll be racking in your money sweetheart." He spoke nonchalantly as he waved his hand around. Did you really want to live in a hell hole with five stinky men? Five hot stinky men. You did have enough money to help them fix some of the things in their place, it would be a fair trade. They were also a joy to be around, and you had to get to know them better one way or another for this band thing to work. "What about the others-...?" You whispered to him, but he started to speak loudly to the rest of the group. "Give a round of applause to our new guest in the Hell House! We'll be eating like kings while she finds a new place." He rose his glass drunkenly, Steven and Duff clapped as Slash whooped. Duff stared at you with a big grin on his face. Either from excitement or alcohol. Izzy didn't look amused, he looked somewhat agitated, and he clutched his glass tighter till his knuckles went white. "Where will I sleep?" You asked the ginger. "You can always sleep with me babe. In more ways than one." His glasses fell to the bridge of his nose, and you could see his blue eyes, he winked and pushed them back up. You rolled your eyes. "It's fine, I'll buy my own mattress. Who knows how many different stains are on yours." You said. He punched your shoulder playfully and chuckled, you did too.

The rest of the day was you and the guys on a bar crawl, you laughed with all of them about different stories they told you, even with Izzy; after a few bottles of wine, he chuckled at your jokes. It was around 9, and everyone was smashed, smashed enough to still walk but not enough to use common sense. It was a miracle that Axl hadn't started a fight or Steven didn't throw up in someone's drink. You and Slash were on your way to pick up more drinks from the bar when some drunk guy came up and started flirting with you, he started coming closer. His breath stunk you physically stepped back and began cussing him out for it, but he didn't stop. Slash slightly stepped Infront of you, he was getting uncomfortable with this stranger's presence too. "Hey man, just back off." Slash warned. "What, and your skinny ass is gonna beat me up?" He drunkenly scoffed. He quickly grabbed your ass, dodging Slash's body in front of yours, Slash didn't have time to respond to the assault. Someone tapped the drunk man's shoulder, "You fucking bitch." It was Axl, he then swiftly sucker punched him square in the face. The man yelled, Axl grabbed his collar and started repeatedly bashed his face with his fist. A crowd started forming and bartenders yelled at him to get out. You and Slash started to pull Axl away from the man, "Ax get off him! You're gonna kill him!" You yelled at him. "That's the point!" He huffed as he was still reaching and grabbing for the man even though he was backing away, nearly unconscious and scared for his life. With the help from other strangers, you got Axl off him and all of you were kicked out. Axl was panting and still in a rage, yelling and screaming that he's going to finish that guy's ass. You finally got him to calm down with the help of Izzy.

The rest of the night Izzy didn't talk, he was furious, furious with you and Axl. Slash and Steven were worried about you and tried to comfort you, but you were okay, just startled. You didn't want to make a big deal of it. Duff felt the tension between Izzy and you, and he tried to explain that it wasn't your fault, but you told Duff to leave it. You didn't know why Izzy was out to get you, but you tried not to think too much about it. When you got home Izzy went straight to bed, so did Slash, Steven did too but only after he threw up in the toilet as you held his hair up. You sat by the small wooden table by the kitchen where you ate this morning and bandaged Axl's knuckles. "This might sting." You warned, as you patted a cotton pad with disinfectant on his knuckle. He hissed and wriggled, you could feel he was still agitated and angry. "That was a nice thing you did back there. Thank you." You told him. His eyes widened, he was surprised. "Next time just don't try kill the man." You said as you wrapped his hand. He gave a breathy laugh and smiled at you. "Nice boys don't play rock 'n doll darling." He scoffed light heartedly. There was pause. You waited for him to realise something. "Shit, that's a great fucking lyric." He got off the table and scavenged for a piece of paper and a pen. You rolled your eyes at him as you packed away the med kit you had in your bag. Axl soon went to bed after he scribbled aggressively and attentively on the paper. It was just you and Duff again. He took out a bottle of vodka from under the couch he had been saving, and you shared it. By the end of it the two of you were out of it, wobbly legs, slurred speech, couldn't think and couldn't speak. You both stumble into Duff's room and as soon as you hit the bed you were gone, Duff giggled and did the same. His one arm laid on your back and both pair of legs were sprawled out on the bed, and his feet dangling off the side of the bed. Soft snores were heard from the two of you, and loud ones from Slash's room as the whole house slept.

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son1c · 2 years ago

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out of the frying pan and into the fire (but they don't know that yet)

falling stars fic masterpost

Whoever had built this roller coaster deserved a raise. It was handling the weight of Sonic, Shadow, the motobug, and even the large robot like a champ. The large robot stood a ways in front of the others, its bold proclamation vibrating the metal tracks, but they refused to be intimidated.

Sonic's eyes widened. "Distress signal?" he repeated. Then, he looked down at the motobug. Its eyes were still flashing that same desperate red as before. "Huh… I never would've guessed our little buddy came with a direct line to someone like you! But hey, I'm glad it's got some friends on speed dial!"

The large robot bored its crimson eyes into Sonic. "INCORRECT," it said. "THIS UNIT IS NOT 'FRIENDS' WITH THAT INFERIOR MODEL."

The motobug beeped. If it was capable of making an expression, then it probably would have been sticking its tongue out right now.

"DO NOT INSULT ME, PUNY FODDER MODEL. I WILL CRUSH YOU LIKE A GRAPE."

Sonic was confused. "Well, if you're not pals, why'd you show up?"

With a single sharp, titanium plated finger, the large robot pointed at Sonic and Shadow. "SCANS OF THE AREA INDICATED AN ABNORMAL SPIKE IN CHAOS ENERGY. THE DISTRESS SIGNAL HAD AN ESTIMATED 73.4% CHANCE OF BEING RELATED."

Shadow didn't like where this was going. "Why would Chaos Energy be of any interest to you?"

"YOUR INQUIRY IS IRRELEVANT," the large robot said. "PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: LOCATE AND RETRIEVE MISSING HEDGEHOGS. MISSION STATUS: 50% COMPLETE."

Sonic and Shadow looked at each other. Then, Sonic turned back towards the large robot. "That other half might be tough to come by, big guy," Sonic said. He spared a glance over his shoulder and saw that the G.U.N. soldiers had begun scaling the hill below them. "Y'see, we're kinda popular right now…"

"DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE ME," the large robot snapped. "MY ARSENAL IS EXTENSIVE. AND DEADLY."

It was then that the large robot's hands retreated into its arms. With its blasters now operational, it raised them up, preparing to shoot down whichever poor G.U.N. soldier was unlucky enough to reach the top of the tracks first.

Sonic felt uneasy as he stared down the barrels of the large robot's blasters. They didn’t look like very precise weapons. Cautiously, he urged the motobug to drive behind the large robot. Now, at least, they wouldn’t get caught in the crosshairs of those massive machine guns.

“Blue,” Shadow hissed, his eyes locked on the back of the large robot’s head. “We don’t need to put our faith in this machine. A warp is still possible.”

Sonic glanced at Shadow. He whispered back, “Then what? You go dark on me again? I’d rather take my chances with Mr. Mecha here.”

“THIS UNIT HAS BEEN DESIGNATED E-123 OMEGA.”

A single drop of sweat slid down Sonic’s head like he was an anime character. “Sorry,” he said. “I’d rather take my chances with Mr. Omega.”

“NO GENDERED TITLE IS NECESSARY.”

“…Just Omega?”

“CORRECT.”

A human hand appeared at the top of the tracks. A helmet and head joined it shortly afterwards, illuminated by the bright white spotlight on the ground. Omega didn't hesitate--he opened fire immediately, and the soldier dropped back down the tracks with a startled yelp. Bullets clanged off the tracks and pierced through the office building to their right, turning the green outer wall into a pretty decent impression of a cheese grater.

Then, everything went quiet. So quiet that Shadow could hear the internal mechanisms of the motobug whir as it sat idly on the tracks. Shadow hopped off of its back after a second spent in the tense, unmoving silence. Now he was standing parallel to Sonic and the motobug on the other side of the tracks, with his fists clenched tightly in anticipation.

The hedgehogs and robots watched the edge of the tracks. Waiting.

But they were looking at the wrong spot. No soldiers appeared from the hill--instead, a group of them dropped down from the sky, having leapt off the roof of the office building. Omega resumed his attack on them immediately, swinging his hulking robotic body around and letting loose a blanket of bullets that seemed to cover the night air with red hot steel.

A soldier with gold teeth landed on the tracks in front of Sonic. He jabbed his gun in the blue hedgehog's face, but Sonic was faster than him, and he slapped the gun out of the soldier's hands before he could pull the trigger. It fell to the ground far below, breaking into a million pieces when it hit the sidewalk.

The soldier jumped in fear when Sonic grabbed his collar. "W-Wait!" he gasped. "Don't! I just got my teeth fixed from the last time I saw you!"

Sonic frowned. He didn't let go of the man's collar. "You're that guy from the forest?"

Nodding, the soldier replied, "That's right!"

Sonic punched him in the face. A few of the soldier's gold teeth went flying.

"Word of advice?" Sonic quipped dryly. "Quit your job."

After releasing the man's collar, Sonic did something risky. He hopped off of the motobug's back, balanced on the tracks with his one uninjured leg, and then pushed the disoriented soldier over. The man landed on his back on the tracks, and once Sonic tied the hems of his shirt and pants to the horizontal beams, it was clear he wouldn't be rejoining the fight anytime soon.

When that was done, Sonic straightened. Then, the motobug drove up to him. Its eyes had returned to their original electric blue color, but the little robot was obviously still in distress--a feeling that worsened when Omega's aim shifted from the sky to the tracks and the soldiers that were crawling across them like insects.

Sonic did the only thing he could think of to keep himself and the motobug safe from the onslaught. He hooked one hand under Buggy's wheel, and then he dropped down under the tracks, dangling from them with his free hand. A concrete patio jutted out from the office building about 30 feet below them, but he wasn't going to risk that fall until someone tried stepping on his fingers, so he simply hung there for now.

Meanwhile, Shadow was up against the rest of the G.U.N. soldiers. He could feel the pressure building behind his eyes the longer they fought, his punches driving back one soldier only to reveal two more. It was difficult to stay on the narrow, slippery tracks while trading blows--something the soldiers didn't have to worry about, Shadow realized, since their shoes were magnetized.

However, it wasn't until Omega started firing in his direction that Shadow really started to feel the heat. Sparks appeared around his fists, and when he socked the next G.U.N. soldier in the jaw, the impact released a burst of red kinetic energy, and the man's head snapped sharply to the side. He stumbled backwards, then fell to his hands and knees.

Omega took care of the rest. One by one, the soldiers crumpled under the pressure, until none of them were left standing.

Then, Shadow hurried over to where Sonic and the motobug were hanging from the edge of the tracks. He pulled them both up with one hand. "That was beyond reckless," Shadow said.

Sonic shrugged. "It was no big deal," he said. "Besides, I needed the workout!"

Omega turned towards Sonic and Shadow. His arm cannons were smoking. "THREAT ELIMINATED," he said. "COMMENCING HEDGEHOG RETRIEVAL PROTOCOLS."

Shadow tensed when the large robot moved to grab them, but then his attention shifted to the sky over his flat yellow head. Partially hidden by the darkness of the citywide blackout, a G.U.N. helicopter was hovering in the space just beyond the tracks, a giant missile hanging from its undercarriage, pointed directly at them.

Shadow zapped himself behind Omega. The missile unlatched from the helicopter. Shadow started glowing, his whole body on fire. The missile ignited, its tail ablaze with the promise to come right towards him. Shadow jumped from the tracks and landed on the window of the helicopter. The missile began rocketing forwards.

The pilots inside the helicopter became frantic at the sight of him, but there was nothing they could do.

Molten Chaos Energy exploded from Shadow's body. It engulfed the helicopter and the missile. It scorched them. Destroyed them completely. For a second there was ashes, but then they got eviscerated too. Shadow hung in the air for a moment afterwards, floating in the space where the helicopter and missile had just been, radiating power.

And then it all went dark. The red light disappeared, and he started to fall, his energy completely spent. The soldiers on the ground waited, all too ready to catch him.

But Sonic beat them to it. He didn't have a plan--he didn't need one. He had driven Buggy to the edge of the tracks and then leapt off of the motobug's back without a second thought, diving after his friend with determination.

Sonic caught Shadow by the wrist. Then, he curled around Shadow's unconscious body, steeling himself for the moment when they would hit the ground.

It wouldn't be the first time.

But history didn't repeat itself. Omega swooped in before the hedgehogs could create another crater, and he snatched them from the air, saving them from falling into G.U.N.'s clutches. Sonic winced just a little bit when Omega's big metal hands jostled his broken leg.

"HEDGEHOGS SECURED," Omega said. "REGRETTABLY, THE PUNY FODDER MODEL IS SECURED AS WELL."

Sonic looked up. The motobug waved down at him from its spot atop one of Omega's large shoulders. Its other claw was wedged in an extremely convenient, handle-like protrusion that the author is amazed they managed to make plot relevant somehow.

"BLUE HEDGEHOG," Omega said, his shiny eyes peering down at Sonic. "YOU DID NOT INFORM ME OF THE DARK ONE'S DESTRUCTIVE POWER. I LIKE IT."

Sonic adjusted Shadow in his arms, holding his friend's head against his shoulder. "It's news to me, too," Sonic admitted. After a moment spent listening to Omega's thrusters burn and crackle, he asked, "Thanks for the save, and all, but mind fillin' me in on where we're going?"

"DESTINATION: SCRAP BRAIN BASE."

"Heh," Sonic laughed. It was short and thin. "Way ahead of you. Seriously, though--what's the deal with you?"

"I DO NOT OPERATE UNDER A CONTRACT," Omega stated plainly.

Starlight City faded into the distance behind them. Up ahead, the horizon was free from skyscrapers. In fact, it was free from any buildings at all. The only things for miles were mountains of sand and the occasional palm tree. And now that they had lost sight of G.U.N., Omega was flying closer to the ground, kicking up clouds of sand and dust in his wake.

Sonic wanted to trust Omega. He had just helped them out of a tight spot, after all. And he seemed to know who they were--or, at the very least, he knew someone else who did. That lead was important, because it's what Stripes was looking for.

But Sonic couldn't help but wonder what waited for them at Scrap Brain Base, and if it was any good. Was Omega's creator going to be like G.U.N.? Sonic figured it was a coin toss.

Frowning, Sonic examined Omega. Unlike Buggy, the large robot was clearly built for combat. What kind of person would build something like him? "Omega," Sonic began, "you sure you're not with the military?"

"POSITIVE," Omega responded in that same booming mechanical voice as always. "MY CREATOR IS AN ENEMY OF THE STATE."

Sonic smiled faintly. Just like that, the scales tipped in favor of Omega's creator having decent character. "It doesn't seem hard to do," Sonic said somewhat bitterly. "Those police types always seem to wanna pick a fight!"

Shadow shuddered in Sonic's arms. He wore a pinched expression in his sleep and his fur was hot to the touch, despite the chill of the desert night. Whatever affliction he had suffered after their confrontation with the cowboy ghost was getting worse. That much was obvious to Sonic.

Carefully, the blue hedgehog ran his fingers through Shadow's quills. Quite a few of them were splintered or outright broken from their fall. Sonic cleaned them up with a deftness he didn't expect, hoping to bring at least a little comfort to his feverish friend.

Shadow's hard frown softened by a fraction, and Sonic considered it a win.

And there was one more thing. He no longer felt unsure about their destination, because he had realized something. If Omega's creator was familiar with them, then that was a good thing, because the guy would probably know a thing or two about Stripes. Specifically, what was wrong with him. Sonic just hoped they'd be willing to help.

Maybe then, he would be spared from having to hunt down a doctor.

#falling stars au #hehehehe

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heliosthegriffin · 1 year ago

Text

Shadow Knight and Magic Girls XVIII

Ao3 Link

Chapter 18

------

In the passenger seat of a beat-up old pickup, Jaune sat quietly. He was bruised and very pissed off, his armor hidden in the backseats under some old coats.

"Look. I may have gone too far with training." Jeremiah began.

Jaune side-eyed his grandfather. "You shot me, my own grandfather, shot me."

"But, you made great progress moving in that armor of yours!"

"Because, you kept shooting at me."

"Hey! Being shot at isn't that bad! I've spent more time being shot at than I've had under the covers with you're grandmama!"

Jaune gagged. "That explains a lot."

"Trust me, you get used to it." He thumped his chest. "Ah, I've got about seven, or so, stuck in me from the Color Wars and the work I've been doing since." He coughed into his hand. "And, I didn't have fancy armor to keep them out!" He smiled at Jaune. "Look, I wouldn't have shot ya, if I didn't think you couldn't handle it, honest, Arc's Word."

Jaune looked at his grandfather, then sighed. An Arc's Word couldn't be taken back. "Alright. I'll forgive you then."

"I'm sure you've been shot at before."

"Yep."

"So, I'm sure you want to keep from getting hit. But, back during the Color Wars, those jackass noble's insisted on they're armor being bullet-proof, and as Nobles of the Land they had some-sort of divine right, that the bullets wouldn't be able to harm them thanks to some sort of supernatural importance."

"Did they?" Jaune's interest piquing.

Jeremiah shrugged. "I'm no scientist, but based on my observation," He paused in thought. "No, not at all. It was damn fine armor, but it doesn't help shit if you're charging across no man's land into a machine-gun nest with a hundred rifles aimed at ya! An entire generation of men and women, of some the oldest bloodlines in history, dead. Armor looked like a cheese graters, and the bodies were so torn apart they oozed out of the holes like a slurry of blood and flesh-" Jeremiah's voice became distant. "Not one of those idiots survived. Others like them didn't learn." He swallowed, his voice dry. "War changed, and they didn't."

Jaune looked at his grandpa, his knuckles had gone white from holding the steering wheel. "You ok? Need me to take over, and drive from here?"

"No." His grandfather shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Did you know any of them?"

"Know? Yes. Liked any of them? Hated all of them. Doesn't mean I wanted them to go like that."

Jaune nodded. "I understand, I think."

His grandpa glance at him. "Maybe." He sighed. "I guess I just wanted to teach you a lesson. One that those asshats won't ever learn. Seeing you in that armor, you looked every part of a noble... I fucked up, didn't think the lesson, through."

"Yeah, a bit." Jaune still felt a enraged at being shot. "But, I won't hold it against you, not forever."

They still had a long-way to go back to Vale. The cab of the truck going silent as they drifted off into thought.

"The first time I saw a Grimm, I was sixteen, and it was my second year in the forces. We were marching through mud and fog. We're made up of a mix of Valean & Vacuoans, about twenty men strong. We're to set up fortifications on shore, and then we're to intercept a invading force of Mantle coming from the north-east looking to establish a hold on Vytal Island."

Jeremiah spoke like he was making a confession, of finally telling something he's been holding back a long, long time. "We're had taken too long, they already establish a foothold there, on Vytal, had sent scouts onto Sanus proper, into the wilderness around the shores of the continent. We found they're camps, then we found they're bodies.

"You've seen what Grimm can do. Imagine my shock, 16 years old, going to war to protect my motherland, I've already seen the horrors of war. I had nothing but a rifle on my shoulder and Crocea Mors on my hip. It brought me no comfort, I had never seen anything like it, it was ... awful."

Jeremiah paused. Minutes passed as he stared at the road, not speaking, merely remembering.

"None of us moved. We're fresh-faced and green, we had no idea what we're looking at it. I think I threw up, or maybe it was someone else, it's so long ago, that I can't remember it clearly. Near the outpost was a cave, in that cave was screaming and sound of gun-fire, and It.

"All sense of kingdoms and the knowledge that we're at war fell apart then and there. A sort of primal tribal instinct arose in us all, that we needed to obey. Another person was in danger, in absolute terror. We went to help them and ... It was a bloodbath. Really and truly, it was. Twenty young men and a handful of Mantle Solider were in there, including me, most of them dying by the twos and three's." Jeremiah paused again, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Give me a moment, please. It's getting harder to remember."

Jaune said nothing, doing his best to etch his grandfather's words into his mind.

Jeremiah breathed out hard, then continued. "It charged me, I used my gun to block and it broke my gun like driftwood, the force tossed me like a rag-doll. I saw It kill my best friend, Daimon, who had enlisted with me. He was a Faunus and a good one too, he wanted to make a reputation, not for himself, but for all Faunus during the war. To show them that they loved Vale just as much as the humans do." Jeremiah took a deep, shaky breath.

"That thing, it tore him in half at the waist, right above me. All his foulness of inside him falling on top of me. I snapped. It was like I fell into a deep, dark hole and lost myself in there, while my body climbed out and did all the work. Nothing else mattered. It wasn't rage. It wasn't hate. It was just ... "

"A call." Jaune said simply. Empathy in his voice

"Yeah. That." Jeremiah smiled, taking his knuckle and wiping his eye. "I drew Crocea Mors. It was the first time I ever wielded her. My mother had practically forced it into my hands when I went out the door. It had been my fathers, I didn't get a chance to know him. I only knew that he was a good man who died young. It was heavy, I knew that from carrying it on my belt, but I had gotten used to it's presence. I didn't realize that once I drew that, I needed to hold it with both hands. My arms burned and I nearly tore something swinging it.

"The thing, the Grimm, I couldn't begin to describe it, it's been so damn long, and I hadn't seen anything else like it sense. Might have been one of kind, or they're just too scared of me to come back. Heh. Not likely though. It had gotten back to tearing apart my brothers, and I ran at it's legs. I had never had a clean a cut in my life as when I swung her blade. It cut right through it's limbs, cut deep into it's body, it's like there was no resistances at all. I killed it. And, after it was all said in done, maybe five, aside from me, survived it's rampage."

"What happened next?" Jaune asked.

Jeremiah shrugged. "I passed out. I had never been in a fight like that before. Don't get me wrong, I rough-housed with other boys growing up, they thought since I didn't have a daddy I was easy pickings, so I had to school them rightly." He sighed. "When I woke up, the two surviving Mantelians had this look of defeat on them, and we did something, I still don't understand to this day."

Jaune waited for Jeremiah to continue.

"We took them in. Gave them spare uniforms, and said they were recruited rural towns, that they wanted to fight against the invaders. We began the biggest bunch of badasses this kingdom had ever seen."

Jaune looked at his grandfather skeptically. "Just like that? Didn't they have any loyalty to Mantle?"

Jeremiah laughed, long and hard. "Nope! Fuckers were happy to just be alive. Mantle was a shit hole back then, too. One wrong word, and welcome to the labor camps. Some call Atlas authoritarian bastards today, but they got nothing, and I mean nothing, on Old Mantle."

"I'll take your word for it." Jaune said. His grandfather look tired now, and almost fragile. "Thank you, for telling me that."

The temporary weakness passed, Jeremiah shrugging. "It's been so long since I told anyone, It was a much me trying to remember, as telling you." He sighed sadly. "I never had the guts to tell your grand-mama, ya know? I still regret that." The old man's eyes seemed to be looking somewhere far off. A sad smile on his lips, as he remembered other times.

Jaune had never really had the chance to meet his dad's mom, his grand-mama. She had died sometime during his dad's late teens, but she had been a wonderful woman from all accounts.

"Any other questions?" Jeremiah asked after a minute, reminiscing of other times.

"Did you ever report back to Vale, about the incident?" Jaune asked, curiously.

"Yeah, about that," Jeremiah began. "Have you ever heard of The Black Shields?"

"A bit, they're like a rumor- you're shitting me, right?" Jaune saw the smug smile on his grandpa's face.

"Oh, you better believe I'm not." He rolled up his sleeve showing his shoulder, showing a version of Vale's Symbol, except instead of two axes surrounded by a wreath, it was a blackened shield surrounded by a wreath. "The second we reported that shit we all got black-bagged and inducted into the Black Shields." He patted Crocea Mors. "Still a member, too. Even if the organization is mostly defunct. We're a task force of men and women recruited to deal with anomalies, aka Grimm and other wickedness."

"Did they even know what was going on?" He paused. "Or get any cool toys?"

"Hell no, and if they did, they did a damn good job convincing us that they were a bunch of dumbasses wearing lab coats. Not that they didn't try to learn, but since Grimm disappear as soon as they die, it makes it very hard to research them. All they were left with was theory crafting. Other anomalies weren't much better. Like short women who could mess with your sense and then disappear. Floating lights that went after Grimm and destroyed them. All kinds of crazy shit." He sighed. "It was mostly wait till something to reported, go there, interview the locals, debunk them publicly to preserve public order. Then do our own searches to see if there was any truth. Which more often than not, nothing at all.

"But, on occasion, when we found Grimm it was hell on wheels, then we got breakout the big guns. But, sometimes it just weird stuff, objects that could do things. Rods that shoot lightning, a bag that was bigger on the inside, a statue that followed commands. We took what we could into custody, or destroyed it if we couldn't. Or run away, that was sometimes the best option."

"So, what happened to the Black Shields?"

"Funding got cut by someone high up, which limited everything, and those same bastards then started putting stricter and stricter rules on us, till we could barely function. I had enough at that point and could see the writing on the walls, so, I left."

"Sounds like sabotage. They just let you leave?"

"Probably, was. Ancestors only know why. Maybe they started a new project, or other Kingdoms had caught wind and didn't like it, pressured us to stop. I really don't know why." He paused in thought. "Anyway, yeah, they really couldn't stop me, no reason too. I didn't have any records working for Vale after the Great War, and on paper, the Black Shields don't exist at all. Our funding was filed under a different name and buried in other paper-work. So, our agents could be cut off at anytime. As far as the Kingdom was concerned, I was no issue. Any information I leaked, would just look like a damaged veteran's mad ramblings."

"Do they still keep tabs on you?"

"Probably. Though, considering my age, they probably assumed I'm dead at this point. Anybody old enough to have worked there in my prime, is long out of business, unless they got some type of age treatment."

"Victory by endurance."

"Yep. Don't plan on croaking either, so no rest for this wicked bag of bones."

Jaune wondered. Would he too be doing this at his grandfather's age? Still fighting Grimm, and other anomalies? Or would he be dead? He only had so many chances before he ran out of luck.

"You think you have time to stick around? Maybe, give me a few pointers?" Jaune asked. Being shot at was a small price to pay, if it made him better. His grandfather was a survivor, and the best techniques are passed on by survivors.

A worn old smile appeared on Jeremiah's face. "It'd be my pleasure."

-----

"Girls." Ms. Purple greeted the girls in a secluded locations.

"Teacher." White responded, with the others giving a variety of responses, but all with a degree of respect.

"It has come to my attention, that a new threat has arisen in Vale, one that Crimson combated by her lonesome last week." Purple looked at Crimson firmly. "That was irresponsible of you, but I applaud your courage."

Crimson nodded sheepishly.

"As your teacher in the arts of Arcane, it is time I let you five into some deeper secrets of the Night-Side and the Otherworld." Purple said with a very serious tone, but laced with a hint of sadness. "You are not alone in your use of magic, there are beings out there who can rival you on equal footing, and more frighteningly ones could crush you all collectively the same way you might crush the Grimm."

A look of shock went over the girls as they're teacher dropped a revelation on them, except for Yellow and Crimson. Both, thinking back to they're recent encounters.

"The Dark Queen's Seven Generals, one of which you already encountered Crimson, the Four Horsemen, The Queens and Royalty of the Otherworld, Things that Sleep, and other horrors, are just some examples of those entities. That's without even going into things Man has made by themselves." She looked around at her students. "Or the various Relics left behind from previous Eras and iterations of Magical Girls as you call yourselves, or as properly known, Star-fated Maidens."

Purple paused, letting her words sink into her students. Red raised a shy hand. "Why are you telling us this now? Why let us know about this now?"

Purple looked at and past them. "I thought we had more time. Up-till now, I thought the Grimm would be the most of your worries." She bowed politely. "I was wrong. I thought you girls were born into a peaceful era. That thought, is quickly being proven incorrect. I fear that we are entering a new Dark Age." She took out her wand. "So, it is time for the training wheels to be taken off, since there is no telling how much time we have left to prepare. " From behind her, two adults appeared behind her from the shadows. "So, I've enlisted help."

A tall lanky man hooded by a ragged cloak. "Harbinger."

A tall bulky man whose face was hidden by a dragon-mask. "Sun Dragon."

Then a woman fell between Purple and her students. "Briar-Storm!" A woman with silver eyes and mature figure wearing what seemed to be a magical girl outfit.

Purple sighed at 'Briar-Storm', then continued. "Yes, these three will help you train and experience different styles of combat. From attacks from the shadows, frontal assault, and even," She paused looking at Briar-Storm vibrating in place with excitement. "learning how to counter magic."

#jaune arc #fanfic #Shadow Knight

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