#new roman empire dropped my fucking GOD

[possession1981-moving]

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 58

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand

When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines. (Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)

yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking

2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson

Lance wasn't like the rest of the world. And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead. A world that wants him to die. So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was. Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him. Until he has to.

oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it

3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2

Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe something beautiful would come from it. A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.

oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind

4. Astronauts by @thewriter2

When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.

tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart

5. his own worth by frogsterz

In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.

now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[necrotic-nephilim]

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.

[ruumirmir]

HEHHEHGHEHGHHHEHEHGH HOW COULD I NOT GET THE HOUSE OF WOLVES REFERENCE that was THE roman empire that got me So invested into the harbingers. ESPECIALLY PANTALONE cause the umbrella + gun combo was Doing it for me. Ladies first ig cause Navia is slaying that gunbrella now ＞︿＜

J Michael Tatum agenda coming in with the STEEL CHAIR in the holy year of 2024 cause the new black butler season just dropped OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH wdym sebastian is wearing GLASSES with the HANGING METAL CHAINS as well. I will die perhaps. Also im breaking my silence today: I think Pantalone's japanese VA was the biggest L of the century. Naur..... why is it that deep.... Threw me off so hard.... IM going to rank the VA's in order of how i like them:

English (beautiful. Evil boy. Cunning. Your typical (^_^) faced anime snake. perhaps a little mischievious. Teehee. Fucking kills you <3)

Chinese (your shady coworker. But hes fairly chill. You guys do your accounting maths homework over a cup of coffee sometimes)

Russian (its giving Zhenya from Codename Anastasia. I need to run far away as possible. Sexy 10/10 tho)

Korean (feels like hes mentally spitting on my face. okay damn egocentric ceo boss I wont ever breathe the same air as you please forgive me)

Latin Spanish (yeah i can see it. Kinda. Might have to squint tho.)

French (this is what the commedia del arte pantalone would sound like. VA caster was nawt aware of the gacha game design changes however)

Indonesian (im calling a trusted adult. Speaking like he wants to steal christmas)

JAPANESE (Brother eugh (σ｀д′)σ )

movnig on- MILDLY DEGRADING PANTALONE down on my knees im going 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ nothing rivals a "good boy" imo but MMMM. maybe. JUST A LITTLE. very small amount to keep reader on his toes. We wouldn't want to make the Loverboy cry- Also my small HC that earlier on in Pantalone's years of fatui work,, he had a much shorter temper that blew up in places. inexperienced with ambitions and was much more OPEN with his emotions. But now as we're seeing it- mellowed out over the years. Devleoped a GOOD poker face,, a businessman is nothing without one after all. Does this make sense-

Ough Pantalone with that aura of cocksure appreciation and disapproval to prod and poke loverboy off his rails of fear and reservations to grow into his own beautiful and deadly UNIT . Which the future harbinger would love to keep under his thumb. "Im doing whats best for you" kinda thing.

Thats the very basic spoiler-free skeleton principle of what drives Hannibal- if you've seen/read it by now ...(*￣０￣)ノ Hannibal recognizes the deep buried down potential of Will Graham becoming someone like him and pushes him towards it. Hannibal doesn't DO the corruption arc,, just winds up the key on the toy's back and watches it go. Tips one domino to send it tumbling all on its own. Thats how pantalone would operate i think. Its never NOT a game of chess for him.

Ririto brain fart moment?? 😭😂 its ok bb i forgive your big silly happens to the best of us </3 Who did you think to write as the Anon source? Some chara we already know? 👁👁

OKAY that was outta NOWHERE- dont worry,, like father like son- hes gonna be riding THE fatui dick during his career at somepoint too- WOOAAHHHH who said that . Hilarious how this is suposed to be a Male reader but i wouldnt mind self inserting as pantalone cause a Loverboy whimpering audio isnt something I'd pass up.

NOW onto the main event: I've done some thinking for the small revisions/ fitting that oneshot into the timeline,, Reader is a born and raised Snezhnayan,, Pantalone is born in Liyue (pry this hc from my dead HANDS hoyoverse) but he's renounced that nation and its god for never lending a helping hand,, and now resides in Snezhnaya under the Tsaritza. Based on Arlecchino's jab at him in the Lazzo trailer,, Im assuming Pantalone RARELY ever travels out of snezhnaya.

For this,, let's just say: This is Loverboy's 3rd year of service, where all fatuus are mandated to carry out orders abroad. Work experience and what not. Maybe 4-ish months into working bank in liyue, reader is vibing- but orders come from Pantalone,, a handful of fatui are expected to dig up dirt on a Liyuean man's business and report back to Pantalone. It's CEO boss would be meeting Pantaloone soon. Small group project. No biggie. Loverboy isn't stupid. The fatui didnt make it to where they are WITHOUT underhanded ethics.

So he goes. Back to snezhnaya in his group with trade secrets in tow. The meeting goes terribly. bullets and blades fly. So does loverboy and pantalone out a window. A hydro vision is granted. Pantalone does the kill FOR reader. You know how it goes-

Im thinking that this mission with loverboy's first blood can be the follow up Part 2 of that. Pantalone gets to: 1. tie up loose ends with any witnesses that got away. Can't have the scandal of a failed endeavor run thorugh the streets. 2. take his relatively naive subordinate for a spin. He simply Had to see what made Celestia grant their authority unto loverboy. And not him

Afterwards when all is said and done, man killed and Loverboy dismissed back to liyue to finish his final year of duty,, pantalone can rest a little easy knowing reader is on the right track for now,, afterall, there's only so much he can do as a High ranked fatui Officiant. He has his own goals to conquer for now,, maybe he'll get back to his loverboy pet project After becoming a Harbinger.

Good things come to those who wait. It's a matter of how long. I think pantalone can already guess that reader would quit the fatui business after his mandated 3 years. Thats fine with him tho. He know's Loverboy would come right back.

BONUS ANNOTATED THOUGHT:

His smile doesn't falter. "Speak up. When we want things, we ask for them directly. Do I make myself clear?" You hastily nod as best you can. 

plus this part from my other req:

Regrator is 28, and then 29, and then 30. And his offer is finally accepted afterall, because he needs to resist smirking at the one who came crawling back.

OOoOOoOOoooOOOoO what if this was the character development of what pantalone said to him. After the time skip of many years, Loverboy returns with a sharp glint in his eyes, stalks right up to Pantalone with his gaze held firmly and asks- if not, downright demands to avail that extended offer now. Loverboy does want (him) it now.

ok thats enough yapping for now i fear. Goodnight everypony-

Ok lets go SImply reblogging your oneshot for my req isn't enough i need to analyze and annotate the entire thing like a literature professor and tell you Everything. (✿◡‿◡)

pantalone might be ooc

He's not!!!!!! by which i think this is fairly a Really Good portrayal of the guy considering the 5 sentences we know about him. He's strict!!! frankly a little scary!! And also chill and positive about loverboy!! But it felt Just Right!!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

descriptions of blood

description so good i might as well have killed that man myself

...pretend that his lore has a spot where this fits perfectly

I think i can make it fit!! would you be cool with making minor changes if so?

"You're very good at what you do."

Imagining the same voice as sebastian michaelis saying this with the sexiest buttersmooth voice is eviscerating me. Very self-indulgent but praise kinks will always slay so hard.

...on the verge of stabbing him a moment ago. 

This,, and the small thing i wrote about loverboy launching them both out the window to escape an onslaught of assassins in my other req. get you a ship where one of them has completely normal knee-jerk reactions to kill the other <3

...as he crushes their hand beneath his shoe without mercy

Fatui Harbingers - House of Wolves - KIERU 0:15

...Instead, Pantalone looks unfazed by it all, stopping as he reaches the other side of you, free of most of the blood. He greets you with a knowing smile as he usually does.

hey ririto this is so ominous and eerie for some reason not known to me. Just the backdrop of grey and snow and probably a gruesome corpse right next to loverboy and Pantalone has a silent smile through everything. Delicious sentence 10/10.

"I knew making you a banker was a good idea,"

THIS IS SO. The confidence and quite calm assurance that pantalone says this with is SO. You'd never be sure whether to lean into it and let out a sigh of relief,, o r back up further becuase it sounds so good but all in the wrong ways.

...thumb brushing across your bottom lip slicked with blood.

fellas is it professional to feed double edged words of honey to your young inexperienced subordinate while kneeling in front of his battered and bruised self who killed someone for you,, and run a gloved thumb across his blood soaked lip. ( ͡• ͜ʖ ͡• )

"Who knew you had so many other talents,"

you are infusing these dialouges with crack cocaine giggling kicking my feet while being slightly concerned because Sir. What do you mean by that.

"Ah ah," he says, a harshness seeping into even just that sound. "Stay."  You stay put,

thank you for making loverboy so Ouppy.

"Lord Harbinger," you try to say

yes,, this could be a minor thing to adjust: i think we could actually fit this oneshot somewhere AFTER he gets his vision,, and BEFORE Pantalone becomes the Harbinger Regrator. Can be a valid reason for Pantalone to see that reader failed to kill the assassin from their shitty negotiation meeting,, and wanting to newly test him again after he had his vision + ambitions awakened to see if he can get past the fear of killing NOW. (Even then,, maybe due to inexperience/unfamiliarity of using visions, reader didn't think to raise his advantage of supernatural powers against another visionless man in this scenario.)

I'd think his first kill was one of the factors that caused him to leave after his 3year duty, not sticking around for Pantalone's promotion to Regrator.

"You are much like your father."

Top 10 things Not to say to someone with daddy issues-

...they're as wet behind the ears as you are.

Dear diary, Today i learned a new speech of expression

...Pantalone's hand that rests on your chin moves... "Now, try again. Dear banker, whatever do you mean?" 

this whole paragraph. What on earth do you mean 'ooc pantalone'. This is the MOST pantalone thing you could've written. Strict and intimidating about improving reader's meek attitude. a Push in the right direction.

"Is this a test?" you manage, words muffled by the way he squishes your face like putty beneath his fingers.

(thank you for making loverboy so Ouppy) x2

...and you know who, regardless of how 'anonymous' that source may have been in his words.

I MAY BE STUPID. （；´д｀）ゞ I CANT TELL. who you are hinting towards 😭😭

"Hold this," he adds, an unnervingly tender instruction for the way he was just behaving. 

There he is. its reminding me of: the same pantalone that washed reader with a clock in my very first req to you.

...looking probably about as pathetic as you think you do.

POV: You're Pantalone looking down at Loverboy.

I forgot how much of a bug-eyed wet dog loverboy is before his time-skip "character development" so to say. Thanks i love him.

"next time someone approaches you from behind, don't wait to stab them. Don't reach for your wet knife with your wet hands, either. Both of those things will get you killed."

I think pantalone is entirely having too much fun with observing Loverboy try climbing the ropes to how REAL fatuus run business.

"Come now. You want to go home and back to Liyue, don't you? I'm tired of this cold." 

Σ(っ °Д °;)っ back to liyue??? Loverboy is Liyuean??? pantalone stays in liyue??? I ALWAYS THOUGHT arlecchino called pantalone a bitch in Signora's funeral for "never leaving the comfort of his homeland?" Whuh-?

ALL IN ALL,, CLOSING THOGUHTS,, GOOD FOOD RIRITO DINNER HAS BEEN SERVED, ATE, AND LICKED CLEAN 10/10 ILY

I GOTT THIS JUST BEFORE I WENT TO SLEEP AND ONLY JUST GOT THE TIME TO ANSWER IT BUT I KNEWWW YOU WOULD GET THE HOUSE OF WOLVES REFERENCE

That is true actually and I realised after I posted it that like, wtf is in character for him?? 😭 he's said like two things and while I have memorised those things they're not a lot to go off but I'm glad you enjoy him (ﾉ´▽｀)ﾉ♪

Also if you can make it fit, feel free ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ I sorta only had a vague idea of where it might go, but at that point in time, loverboy works abroad in the Northland Bank. I'll also throw in that he travelled there for that job and unfortunately does not come from Liyue 😔 (unless he's supposed to?? I got the impression he was from Snezhnaya) it was more a "I bet you'd love to be back at a desk job rn" or something to that effect, loverboy is going back to the bank once things are settled where he belongs but Pantalone isn't going with him (hence why they're in Snezhnaya when this happenscause I also interpret at as him not liking to leave Liyue)

I'm so glad the J Michael Tatum love never stops but also you're so right praise kinks absolutely do. I also noticed that them trying to kill each other is like, a repeated theme so far 😭⁉️ LIKE WHEN PANTALONE WENT TO FIND HIM LAST ONESHOT HE WAS GONNA KILL THAT FUCKER

Confident possibly mildly degrading Pantalone is literally my favourite thing, like I chew on him. I chew on him being unnervingly calm because what would he have in the eyes of a wet mop boy besides an unwavering poker face. Get yourself a man who uses the blood of your enemies like your lipstick and knows he made good choices stationing you at his shady probably money laundering black hole of debt he calls a bank

Yk I agree actually I was trying to figure the timeline out in my head and realised it would've made more sense to happen before he was a Harbinger so I agree with this revision that actually makes it fit the lore and if I ever decide to make it a longer multichapter fic I'll definitely fix that 💀 t'was a victim of laziness

YES YES THIS Pantalone basically shaping him up so he doesn't literally die and being strict with it get so him. He'll prompt him to say it again but won't let it slide because that behaviour isn't going to be beneficial, especially not with someone who may be working under him long-term

I went back to read the part about the anonymous source line came from, and I think I figured out what happened here, so allow me to explain  (;ﾟдﾟ)   Ok so, it has a bit to do with the weird way I wrote this because when I said I wrote this on the train that was half a lie. I wrote some of it on the train and the rest at the library where I also edited what I already had because the spelling mistakes were atrocious. I did write down who it was but cut it when I decided it cluttered the story a bit which retrospectively was also a mistake because I didn't think about the fact it would seem like I was hinting at something at the time (ﾟ▽ﾟ*) the shorter, boring answer is that there's no one Ririto did a big silly and cut context in the chaotic editing this suffered

LMAO NOT THE CLOCK AGAIN

I love him the wet mop boy. I was like I want him to be at least a lil pathetic rn because his concerns are completely different. He's thinking about how to not die, and how much he misses his mom and his much fatui dick his dad must've been riding before death to think this career path was worth it (slash JOKING but he is still wondering why his father would have done this job willingly) that and I think men who whimper are cute thanks for coming to my Ted talk

HE IS ENJOYING IT and I love it sm

Hehe I am glad to know you haven't gone hungry today (^o^) and such high ratings for the banker and loverboy

[perrydapandapillowpet]

Percy: y'know, Luke had a point

Annabeth: how?

Percy: if his dad is lin-manuel miranda, he had a right to rebel

Annabeth: I mean, I guess

Percy: if I had to listen to the Hamilton soundtrack for years, I'd start a war and possibly kill everyone I ever cared about

Annabeth: sure

Percy: like, imagine if you're trying to sleep and "my shot" starts playing in your left ear, while "satisfied" is playing in your right ear

Percy: and then you look up and lin-manuel miranda is staring you right in the face like "ma name is alexander hamilton"

Percy: the songs are catchy, but...

▪︎Nico walks up to the duo▪︎

Nico: are you guys talking about the new God of theives

Percy: mhm

Annabeth: more of him *points at percy*

Nico: out of all people

Percy: I think apollo made this decision

Percy: too bad I'm too tired to visit him

Percy: I'll just have to call

Percy: ☆ the squad ☆

Percy: *on the phone* jason

Jason: w h a t

Percy: gather the squad

Jason: why can't you do it

Percy: I'm tired okay

Jason: *hangs up*

▪︎two hours later▪︎

*the squad is gathered in chb*

Piper: sooooo

Jason: ask him.

Percy: I need you to go visit apollo

Thalia: but like

Thalia: why

Percy: this is hermes

Reyna: uh huh

Percy: this was obviously apollo's decision

Will: but what if you're wrong and this all goes to waste and apollo wasn't even aware of this

Percy: be optimistic

Percy: who else's decision might that be?

Will: idk Rick?

Percy: who?

Nico: *facepalm*

Frank: are we visiting Roman apollo or Greek apollo?

Percy: it's the same thing

Leo: wait. why do we have to go and you don't???

Percy: you see these eyebags?!?!?!?

Leo: bitch i know you've had those eyebags since the moment you've stepped foot in this camp

Percy: no need to call me out

Percy: Wise girl help—

Percy: Annabeth?!

Piper: I saw her put on her hat and disappear

Piper: sooooooo

Percy: AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?!?!?!?

Percy: *crying*

Hazel: fake crying really isn't going to get you out of this so save yourself the tears

Percy:

Percy: yeah my face isn't even wet let's go

Jason: how are we gonna get to the empire state buliding

*everyone looks at him*

Jason: what

Thalia: n o .

Percy: I usually like hugging my nearby hunky hunka himbo, but not this time

Doorman/elevator man: Yeah no

Nico: I can get there myself

Frank: me too

Leo: I am not taking Festus for a mini trip

So...

Percy: six hundredth floor please

Percy: why

Thalia: yeah why

Doorman/elevator man: HARRY POTTER ALL THE WAY—

Thalia: *punches*

Thalia: I lost my patience and have no money, so

▪︎the elevator opens, elevator music playing loudly ▪︎

Reyna: you know, it's really tight in here

Leo: and really hot

Piper: I swear to the gods, if you burn us...

Leo: alright chilllll beauty queen

Nico: ugh I'm getting claustrophobic

Nico: Jason can you get your ass outta my face

Nico: I understand that your height is high maintenance

Nico: but that doesn't give you the right to shove your cheeks in my face

Jason: I'm on the other side of the elevators

Nico: what—

▪︎elevator dings▪︎

Percy: now remember

Percy: don't get distracted by the wonders of olympus

Percy: we gotta go to the sunshine

Piper: but that's so bright

Will: I have twenty sets of emergency sunglasses

Will: take

Thalia: DAM we look good

Nico: I see the light

Hazel: WHAT

Nico: no, apollo is right there

Thalia: oh no, I need to use the bathroom. I'm gonna go

Percy: pussy

Leo: Apollo!!!!!

Apollo, in all his glory: oh, my favorite relatives! What brings you to olympus?

Piper: was the Hermes situation your fault

Apollo: what situation

Reyna: ya know, lin-manuel?

Apollo: what about him?

Frank, whispering: he got casted as Hermes for the show

Apollo: *jaw drops* NO FUCKING WAY

Percy:...yeah

Nico: im guessing it wasn't your fault then

Apollo: ask Hermes himself

Will: no way we're talking to a man who played Alexander Hamilton AND lipbites AND writes music

Apollo: I did all three of those things, so watch your mouth!

Will: whatever, I was right.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Golden Cage - Chapter.11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: Teasing, violence, angst

WC: 5607

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N’s in Dean’s bedroom, getting herself ready while Dean talks on the phone. It rang after he came out of the shower and he walked into the living room. She doesn’t know if it’s to give her privacy or if he doesn’t want her to hear. Either way, she doesn’t have time to dwell on it because she has to get herself ready for a meeting. The first outing that she’s allowed to have in the name of the family. 

Her clothes are all laid out on the bed and while she applies moisturizer to her body. She puts the outfits together in her mind, thinking about what would suit her best, what would be the best outfit that’ll show that she means it. An outfit that shows that she’s a woman who can keep up with the men. Nothing too revealing, she guesses, but something fierce enough to make them gasp. Her mind’s setting on the pencil leather skirt, now she just has to see what blouse would fit best with her skirt and the shoes she’s packed.

Dean’s still talking outside and she hears that he’s trying to keep his voice down. She slips into her panties. The fabric of the little garment rubs a little too hard against her sensitive clit. She thinks about ditching them later, wonders if it would matter. Nobody will know if she’s wearing panties or not, right? Also, there’s chafing from Dean’s scruff that doesn’t support the argument of her having to wear panties. She’s sensitive all over, feels like her nipples are raw from his sucking, too. God, that man will definitely be the death of her, but it’s not like she minds. 

Everything is super sensitive now because they did it again in the shower. Dean’s shower is not as spacious as the shower at her home, but they made it fit and he fucked her standing up against the wall, pressing her back into the tiles and hooked one arm below her knees, lifting her leg up while he rubbed at her clit.

Blood rushes to her head again when she thinks about it. 

So now, she’s standing here, and debates between two blouses. One’s white with long flowing arms and the other one’s red, sleeveless, with a bow around her neck. 

She can’t possibly make up her mind because she likes them both, so she decides to ask Dean. He knows exactly where they are going, he would know what would fit, wouldn’t he? 

Still in only her panties, she clutches the blouses to her chest to hide that little modesty she still possesses, even though she knows that Dean’s seen it all already anyway, and he probably likes her best without any clothes on at all. Knows it, because he had stated it a couple of times, and it always makes her flustered all over.

Dean’s standing at the dining table and her cheeks get hot again thinking about what they’ve done on there. He’s not dressed either, a towel hanging dangerously low around his hips, making him look absolutely delicious with damp ruffled up hair. The scars on his body have a certain edge to them, but the freckles round the edges up. He’s devine and that’s not really fair. He has no business being so perfect.

Biting on her bottom lip, she approaches him, but he’s not paying her attention. He’s looking down to the hand that fidgets around the back of a chair. It’s as if he’s a little nervous, a little on edge.

“Hey,” She hisses and Dean frowns, but still he doesn’t look.

“Dean!” She tries again and he only holds a forefinger up at her to shush her while he concentrates on listening to the conversation. He still doesn’t look up at her. It’s as if he tries to avoid her at any cost.

Rolling her eyes, she tries to think of a way to get his attention, grinning when she gets a flash of an idea. 

Y/N drops the blouses to the floor and shows him her boobs, “Hey!” She hisses again, louder, while she squeezes them together and jiggles them around. 

Well, she gets his attention now, but he’s looking less than amused. Dean frowns, and waves at her to stop. 

Then she hears it. 

“Yes, sir, goodbye.”

Fuck.

He’s talking to her dad. 

And she just flashed him.

Dean hangs up and sets the phone onto the table and exhales deeply before he rubs a hand over his face.

He turns to her after and speaks. His voice is loud and he sounds annoyed, “Jesus fucking Christ, princess!”

Oh, so now she’s back to being princess. She guesses that when he’s upset with her, she’s forever going to be princess to him.

“You can’t just show me your tits when I talk to your father! Fuck, now every time I talk to him I’ll see them in my mind!” He growls low.

She’s smirking and tries not to laugh because honestly, that is a little funny?

Dean begs to differ though, because he strolls closer. One hand goes below her chin, fingers cupping it and turns it upwards to meet his eyes while his other hand cups around one of her tits, palms kneading, fingers pinching at her nipple, she squirms.

“What is it that couldn’t possibly wait until I’m finished with a call?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” She mumbles and Dean groans out in frustration before he bends down to kiss her. 

“You know,” He says when he parts, his hands leaving her completely to pick up her blouses from the floor, “One day, you’re going to kill me with your bratty behavior.”

She grins as he hands the blouse to her, “You like it, though?”

At least she hopes he does. Like, he knew what he had gotten himself into when it all started, so he really can’t blame her for acting the way she does.

He rolls his eyes briefly, but it’s all fake because he’s grinning now when he bends down to peck her lips, “Love it.” 

Smiling, she holds up the blouses and lifts her eyebrows. 

“White.” He nods toward the white blouse, “Although I would love to see the red on you, but I think white would suit better tonight. Makes you look more like someone to take seriously and not some eye candy hanging off someone’s arm.”

“Thanks,” She says and thinks that’s what she likes about Dean. He says things like it is, doesn’t sugarcoat it and he’s not just babbling to shut her up. 

“Go get dressed before I can’t hold myself back from taking you all over again.” He smacks her ass on his way to the bathroom.

“Who said I would mind that?” Y/N calls after him and Dean chuckles.

  She almost threw him off his balance with her jiggly tits. It’s not really fair. And really, he hopes that her tits won’t be the first thing that comes to his mind when he sees Azazel’s caller ID.

The boss had informed him that Benny would be at the meeting too and that rubs him the wrong way. What’s so fucking important for Benny to be there anyway? Azazel made it clear that Benny’s not allowed to interfere with Dean’s business, but Dean will only believe it when he sees it. 

He’s gnawing on his bottom lip as they drive towards Atlantic City. 

It’s a two hour drive and they made it halfway when she turned in her seat. The leather underneath her ass makes a loud sound. That’s right, she’s wearing leather. He almost choked on his own drool when he saw it. 

Dean gets weak for leather. Especially for her in leather. The skirts so tight it accentuates her round ass. He couldn’t help but spank down on it a couple of times while they walked down the stairs from his apartment. Every time she would stop and stare at him with a rolling of her eyes and every time, Dean would giggle like an idiot. 

It’s good between them. They’re relaxed. He likes that. Would like to keep it that way, but he knows that it’s just only the start of a hardship he might have to go through. She might have to go through. 

After they laid in his bed for a while, with her in his arms, he stroked her back, with neither of them speaking. Sometimes there’s just nothing to say and he liked that the most. The comfortable silence. There were no sorry excuses, no thoughts of having made a mistake, no small talk just to get over the awkwardness of the situation after the lust has worn out. And that was the moment that he thought about the future for the first time. That he could just grab her and run away. Nobody would know, nobody would find them. It would be good, he just knows it. It’s only — Dean doesn’t know if she would want it. If she was even ready to leave everything behind, and the last thing he wants to be is selfish. But yeah, maybe he would do it all for her, leave everything behind and screw up the Bureau for a woman. Which is really a stupid thing to do, but it would probably be worth it. 

They drive past a big advertisement for Roman Empire. It’s the biggest and apparently the best casino in Atlantic City. Of course, it is. The Roman’s wouldn’t settle for second best.

“We’re going to meet the Roman’s?” She asks curiously, and Dean can hear it in her tone of voice that she’s not really keen on meeting them. 

“Yeah, they have some proposals.”

“They’re dicks.” She mumbles under her breath.

Dean has to chuckle at that, because she’s not wrong. The Roman’s are the number one mob family in Atlantic City. They are the equivalent to the Lehne’s. They own every casino, hell, they even own New Jersey. Their wealth is immense. 

He cocks an eyebrow at her, “You’ve met them?” 

“Yeah, at gatherings where Dad allowed me to attend. Dick is a real big dick. I heard he moved to California, set up his own thing there. His father is a sleazeball.”

“I know,” Dean reaches over, takes her hand in his, “Just, don’t let your emotions overrule your head, okay? We’re there to make deals.”

“Ugh,” She groans with an eye roll.

“That’s the spirit,” He smirks and takes her hand, places it to his lips to kiss it quickly. 

She sighs, “What if he touches me?” 

“Who?”

“Zachariah, Dick. Both of them.”

Frowning, Dean looks over to her, “Have they done that before?”

“Yeah,”

Dean’s grip tightens around her hand. Jesus, he feels like punching something all of a sudden. 

His voice is deep, and he growls a little when he speaks again, “Does your father know that they have touched you inappropriately?” 

“He was right there.” 

Fucking Christ, now he really wants to shoot someone. His heart absolutely aches for what she had to go through growing up in this family. Growing up in a world reigned by men. It’s not a great environment for a girl to grow up.

“I’ll put them in their place if they do,” Dean says. It’s the only thing he can say, really. He can’t erase the past, but he can make sure that he’s here in the present.

“What if you aren’t there?”

Dean catches a glimpse of her little pout when the street light illuminates up the inside of the car.

“I’ll always be beside you.” He assures her, because yeah, after finding out that piece of information, he doesn’t really have the urge to leave her unattended at all.

“Promise?” 

He places another kiss on the back of her hand, “Promise.”

 *

 They arrive and Dean gets out of the car, walks around to open up the passenger side for her, and holds out a hand to help her out. 

“You know they have valet parking, right?” She asks before she takes his hand.

Dean shrugs, “I feel better knowing where my car is and can reach it at all times.”

She only frowns a little as she gets out.

“Remember, no weapons.” He says as she’s standing before him.

She waves her clutch around, “Duh, how can I fit that into my clutch?”

“Y/N,” Dean looks at her sternly. She thinks he’s joking but really, he’s not. It’s the rule. No fucking weapons when they come in peace. The Lehni’s have the same rule and it’s only fair that they play by the Roman’s rule, even though Dean hates the rule himself. He looks at her again, cocks one eyebrow because she’s still looking at him like she’s innocent. Dean hates that look because she’s not. She’s not innocent when she grins up at him while she licks at his asshole, she’s not innocent when she moans for him to fuck her harder. No, she’s not and he shouldn’t get weak, “Put your gun back. Now.”

Rolling her eyes back dramatically, she lets out a loud sigh. Dean has to hold back a chuckle. He watches her lift up her leather skirt, watches her take out her gun from her holster, and turns around to put it into the glove compartment of his car. 

“How did you know?” She whines when she turns back to him, bracing her arms across her chest and fucking pouts. 

“I’m just good like that,” He grins cockily before he weaves an arm around her waist to help steady her in her heels as he guides her towards the entrance of the casino.

 *

 They are led into the back of the casino, where there’s a strip club. Dean has since taken his arms from around her waist because it’s back to acting like they aren’t more than what they are. It pains him a little. Irritates him a whole lot. And from the way her body’s drawn to him, leaving him no space, he can see that she’s not entirely happy about it either. 

He leans closer, nose brushing against her temple, “Just this, okay? I’m right here.” 

She seems to nod. Dean can’t really see it because she’s following the employee who’s walking ahead and he waits a couple of seconds, walking a safe distance after her. 

The door to the strip club opens and loud music spills out of it. The room is dark, neon lights everywhere. It’s a tad over the top, he thinks. A little cheap, like who the hell uses neon lights nowadays anyway? It makes him feel like he’s in a dingy strip club and not a high-end one. 

Dean seems to be the only one who thinks it’s tacky because the club is packed. There are girls dancing on stage, girls grinding on men’s lap and he notices Y/N stalling by the door. She doesn’t look comfortable at all. 

He reaches out, touches her arm, “I’m going first,” He whispers, “Follow me,” 

She does, follows him and catches up to him pretty quickly. They are walking beside each other now and she takes glances left and right while they still follow the employee around. 

“You've been to a strip club before?” She asks underneath her breath. 

“Yeah,” He chuckles.

“Huh,” 

“Not lately, though.” Dean tries to talk himself out of his mistake, but he knows that he’ll probably get an earful when they’re alone. 

“Huh,”

She crosses her arms over her chest while they walk and he thinks it’s adorable how she’s jealous. It makes him a little proud to know that he’s not the only one feeling the things he does. 

The employee leads them along across the club, and there were a couple of girls who gave him the eye, some of them make themselves known by bumping into him. Dean tries his best not to look. Tries to fucking stay focused and walk on because he’s here to do his job and well, maybe it’s also because he doesn’t want to upset her. It’s not like he’s interested anyway. Not when the girl he actually wants sitting on his lap is her. 

Y/N only rolls her eyes as she sees him trailing along, and Dean smirks, which earned him another eye roll. He thinks it’s cute. She’d deny. 

They were led onto the second floor where there was a group of chairs sitting around a table. They spot Benny and his two right-hand men Ed and Nick. Nick has risen up in his ranks, as Dean can see. What Dean didn’t account for was to see Azazel sitting with them, his two bodyguards standing behind him. Women in skimpy bikinis are serving them drinks and there’s one sitting on Nick’s lap. 

“You didn’t tell me they’d all be here,” Y/N whispers through her gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t know about your dad, okay?” 

“But you knew about Benny?” 

“Yeah, from the phone call which you flashed me your fucking tits.” Dean hisses while they walk over slowly, so they can have this exchange of words. 

They both try to smirk while not letting people see that they are talking to each other.

“Oh, please,” She chuckles, “You love them.”

“I’d love them more if I wasn’t associating them with your dad,” He says and nods at the waitress who just walked past him. 

“I wish you would have told me at least about Benny.”

“Why? Would that have changed your mind?” 

“No, but I would have worn fucking panties.”

Dean stops mid-stride and she looks back at him with a grin. He watches her walk up to her people, greeting them and taking a seat next to her father. 

He wished that she would have kept that fucking detail to herself, though. Now he won’t be able to think of anything else than her sitting there with nothing underneath her fucking leather skirt. And she’s probably still dripping his cum while she looks her father straight in his eyes. 

This is pure torture and he’s been tested, he knows. 

This fucking girl.

  Y/N greets her dad with a kiss to his cheek and sits down, only nodding to the other men around. 

“I think you should leave,” She says to the girl in Nick’s lap, even before Dean sits down and the stripper looks at her in bewilderment. She smiles politely, “You heard me.” 

“I’ll tell her to leave whenever I want,” Nick snarls.

“And I’m telling her to leave now. It’s not a fucking party, Nick. We’re here for business.” She says firmly, stands by her point that nobody should listen in. They can’t be careful enough with possible snitches around. 

Dean sits down next to her, rights his suit jacket and nods towards Nick, “You heard the lady, man. Ditch the stripper,”

Nick gasps and looks over to Benny for some back up but Benny ignores him completely. Reluctantly, he pushes the stripper away and the girl stands up and struts away angrily. 

“Since when does she call the shots around here— Ow!” Nick yelps out and everyone knows that Benny kicked him under the table. 

God, her dad really works with an immature bunch of men, doesn’t he? 

Her dad leans towards her, whispering in her ear and she tunes out all the other ramblings she hears from Nick, “You’re doing good. It’s a whole new side I see. I like it. Did Dean explain to you and teach you what tonight’s all about?” 

“Yes, he did.” She tries to not think about other things he taught her about, the things that make her whimper in pleasure.

“Good,” Her dad nods.

Five minutes passed until a big bulky bodyguard walks in and calls for them. Zachariah is ready to meet. 

They have been led through another door where they step into an elevator. The eight of them, plus the bodyguard, stand close, chest to chest and she’s glad Nick and his filthy hands were far away from her, glad that it’s Dean who’s next to her, not so glad that her dad is on her other side of her. 

Y/N feels something warm between her legs, feels Dean’s cum trickling out thickly, has to squint her eyes and frowns a little. Of course Dean notices, looking down at her and raises his eyebrows. She doesn’t say anything, can’t possibly talk when everyone can hear her.

When they arrive, everyone scrambles to get out of the confined space pretty quickly, but Dean stays.

He looks down with worried eyes, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She says, “Your cum dripped out. I might need some tissues.” 

“Jesus,” Dean mutters under his breath and shakes his head as he steps out of the elevator.

She can’t help but grin as she catches up with the lot. 

  Goddamnit, he’s really being tested right now. How can he sit still and concentrate when he knows she fucking leaks him while sitting next to her fucking father? 

She’s going to be the death of him, Dean just knows it. 

They arrive at a heavy door, which is held up by two other big bulky men and they step in, where Zachariah is already waiting, sitting at a big round table with his son. The table only fits six, so Azazel takes a seat, beckons for his daughter and Dean. Benny takes a seat too and Dean still hasn’t figured out why the hell the dude’s here.

“Do the two losers need to be here?” Zachariah asks into the round, pointing his chin towards Ed and Nick and all eyes are on Benny. 

“Uh, no, they don’t.” The man says and Dean has to hold himself back not to speak that Benny too, doesn’t have any business to be here. 

“Then they should leave. Go to the club. My treat.” Zachariah says with a sleazy grin. 

Y/N was right when she said that he’s a sleazeball. Dean has to smirk a little thinking back on how she said it. 

The two men’s faces light up and they immediately disappear, muttering something about a lapdance while Benny shakes his head. Benny’s probably questioning his entourage right now. A bunch of unprofessionals is what they are.

“Why are you here?” Zachariah asks and he stares at Y/N, his tongue darts out to lick his lips and Dean balls his hands into fists. God, he would just love to punch that fucker for looking at her like that. 

“She’s dipping her toes into the business, Zach,” Azazel says, and maybe Dean’s mistaken, but he can hear something in the tone of his voice. Something that says that Azazel’s a little proud.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be doing this,” Dick, who hasn’t said a word until now says, smirking a little, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Spending daddy’s cash or organizing some catering for parties?”

Dean’s lips are already parted, he already wanted to put Dick into place, but Y/N cuts him off.

“I actually do have better things to do, yes. But you wanted a meeting and that’s why we’re here. Can’t choose where you’re born into, can you, Dick? I bet you have better things to do in California as well.”

She says it with a calm voice, but he knows that she’s not. Her hands are shaking a little and he knows that she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to run her mouth, put Dick into place, but she chose to stay professional. He absolutely admires her. Dean lays a hand on her thigh under the table, some kind of a reassurance that he’s here. A way of telling her that she’s doing great so far.

Dick looks at her father, a frown on his face and Zach just clears his throat, “Right, so shall we? We want to get this over with before we go to the next part which is more relaxing to me.”

Dean doesn’t even know that there’s a next part, but he agrees that he too, wants to get this over with. 

“We’ve been in contact with Winchester before,” Zach nods at Dean and Dean nods back, “We have not one but three shipments on their way over from China. It’s the biggest deal we’ve ever made with the Chinese. All we need are some old warehouses where we can set up labs.”

“You don’t have enough of this in New Jersey?” Azazel asks and Dean knows why. Azazel is keen on dealing but not keen on cooking the drugs himself. 

Zach laughs heartily and elbows his son who starts to laugh too, “No we don’t. Not for that amount of goods,”

“How many are we talking about?” It’s Benny who asks. 

“About sixty to seventy warehouses.” 

Azazel whistles under his breath, “That’s a lot.” 

“It’s a lot of money we can make.” Dick chimes in.

The King clicks his tongue and exhales loudly, “What’s our cut?”

“We will provide the infrastructure, provide the cooks and the people manning the warehouse. We will pay you rent.” Dick says, and adds, “But we know that you don’t like to have your fingers deep in cooking so we’ll reward you for renting it out to us. 30% of the profit.”

“That’s how much?” It’s Y/N who asks. Dean’s a little proud, a little stunned too that she followed the conversation. Well, he knows that she’s not dumb but they don’t. Everyone is looking at her now and notice that she’s still here.

“Roughly about $600k a month,” Zach says proudly. 

“So, say, we let you rent seventy warehouses and you make $30k a month per warehouse. That would mean you make over $2m a month and will give us our $600k cut,” Y/N calculates it in her head, “How can you be so sure that you’re going to make that much money?”

“Girl can do some math, congratulations!” Zach shouts out in mockery and really, Dean has to fucking hold himself back, “We know this because it’s not the first time we’ve cooked, sweetheart.” 

“And why only 30% then? We have more risks, people are disposable, warehouses aren’t. If they find a warehouse, it will somehow lead back to us. We have more risk than you do, I’d think we need to raise the stake.” She drums on her notepad with her ballpoint pen while she cocks an eyebrow at Zach and Dick. 

Christ, Dean finds that side of her highly attractive. It turns him on when she has them by the balls. 

“What do you suggest?” Dick looks at her with a smug grin on his face. 

“50%,”

“What?” Zach spits and Dick has to calm his father down, laying a hand on Zach’s arm. 

“What’s your guarantee for us?” Dick asks as he feels his dad calming down enough. 

She looks into the round and Dean just knows that she has something in mind. He can see from the glint in her eyes, sees it in how her lips curve up into a smile. 

Tonight before they left, she wanted to look at the files and she sat there for an hour, looking through what little information Dean had, and when she finished, she started to smile and that’s when Dean knew that she wanted to lead the deal and he knew that he’d gladly let her. It’s also for her to show her dad that she’s capable, that maybe Azazel doesn’t have to tighten the leash around her as much as he had. That maybe, when this deal is a success, she’ll get to have more rights, gets to have her own car, gets to have a little freedom. Dean fully supports it.

Dean hands her the documents with a nod and she smiles at him. Her dad cocks an eyebrow while Benny frowns. They have no idea what’s going to hit them. Well, he doesn’t really know either, because she wouldn’t tell him, but he trusts her. 

Y/N rolls out the map of the city where she had circled warehouses they own in red circles. She stands up and braces her hands on the table, “As you can see, we own 120 warehouses and counting.”

“Did you know we own that much?” Azazel whispers to Dean behind her back and he shrugs. 

He did, Azazel doesn’t have to know it, though.

They sit in silence when Y/N continues, “My idea is to move production around. Never stay in one place for too long. That will be less suspicious for the neighborhood of the warehouses. That way, the chance of getting busted is as good as zero.” 

“But that’s a lot of moving infrastructure around.” Dick states.

“Would you rather you get busted?” Dean chimes in, he just had to, “When they get us, they’ll get you.”

“No, of course not.”

“Here’s my offer,” Y/N says and sits down, folds her arms on the table while she looks Zachariah straight in the eye, “120 warehouses to do as you please. Only seventy will be occupied at the same time, not more, not less. 50% of your profit.” 

They are all holding their breath as they watch Zach and Dick turn in their chairs to whisper something into each other's ears. Dean reaches over under the table again, squeezes her thighs and she looks at him, grins a cocky grin. Jesus, maybe he just fell in love a little more than he already had. 

Azazel leans back in his chair and over to his daughter, “You did your homework, princess. I’m proud.”

Her face beams.

It’s adorable really how she longs to be recognized. How she wished to be heard all those years. It’s really sad too, and there’s the thing Dean feels in his gut again that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to protect her at all cost and show her that she’s worth fucking everything. 

“Okay,” Zach says after clearing his throat, “Congratulations, Y/N, you got yourself a deal there. Our lawyers will be in contact.”

Her smile grows wide, and he can see that she’s all giddy. Dean really wants to take her into his arms but he knows that it’s uncalled for. That he shouldn’t act like he’s closer to her than what he is. 

Azazel nods his approval, smiling a little and it’s creepy. Dean had never seen the man smile before. 

“Great, onto the next part, the weapon deal, are you involved in that too?” Zach asks, and Dean knew that he missed something because he wasn’t involved either. 

“Nobody knows, because we just only talked about it briefly last time, Zach,” Azazel says. 

“Okay, then please everyone who’s not involved may leave the room.” Zachariah announces and Dean can only look at her. 

She has to leave and she knows it, even though he doesn’t want her to, but it’s not a made deal and she has no clue, she can’t stay, not when her dad is here, too. Subtly, she nods at him, as if she understands. 

“You can go to the club, Y/N, my treat!” Zach says, it’s more mockery than anything else and Dean really really wants to punch that fucking dude square in the face. 

 *

 The meeting is over quicker than he thought it would be. It’s just talks that bore him to death with weapon deals that aren’t even fixed yet. Dean really doesn’t know why she had to leave the room and he feels so fucking bad because he promised her that he’d be by her side. It’s a good thing that he had control over Dick and Zach, though. So at least they couldn’t have come on to her and touch her inappropriately. 

Everyone is making their way up the elevator, with Dick and Benny in deep conversation and Azazel and Zach. Apparently, Dick and Benny has some other issues to work through which Dean shouldn’t know about, but as hard as Dean tried to eavesdrop, he can’t make out a word because Zach was raving to Azazel about the casino and the strip club, inviting him to show him around because they have this new spa in the newly build wing where you can even gamble while relaxing. It’s ridiculous really. 

When they get out of the elevator, Azazel taps Dean on his shoulder, falls into step beside him, “Can you take my daughter home? I’ll probably stay the night and I don’t want her to wait and stay with me. I know she doesn’t like to be around them.” 

Dean knows who he means by them. So the little detail didn’t slip Azazel’s eyes and Dean’s actually quite glad that the man knows how uncomfortable the men are to his daughter.

“Of course,” Dean answers, has to fucking try not to show too much emotion. 

“Thanks,” The King nods, and places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze of approval. 

God, Dean doesn’t know if he’d still be thanking him if he knew that Dean’s already fucked his daughter not once but three times.

They make their way down the stairs to the club and already something seems off. The people are talking in hushed tones, the strippers aren’t stripping and the girls aren’t dancing.

Dean spots it then, spots her at the back, where Nick has pinned her against the wall, his hand around her throat. People around them watch in horror and Ed tries to talk Nick out of it, but the dude already lifts his hand and slaps her across the face. 

Chapter.12

[cinebration]

Choose Where (Victor Zsasz x Reader) [Part 11]

THE END. Thank you all so much for sticking around!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 

Tagged: @im-just-one-of-the-avengers, @strangeaddiction1306, @vaaalexandra​, @marvelenthusiast10​, @thefandomqueen2882​, @33rie33​, @cassiopeia-barrow​

Warnings: cutting, mutilation, blood

Image Source: directedbysnyder

The club was empty when you returned the following day. No note. You didn’t ask around to find out where Zsasz had gone. You merely threw yourself into the work.

As the only person left in charge of Roman’s operation, courtesy of the CFO paperwork you had filed months before, you took over.

The first thing you did was tear down the torture wallpaper with your bare hands.

For the next few months, you ripped out every piece of art in the place but for the big black hands and eyes framing the stage. You bought new furniture, replacing the tables and stools. The booths you reupholstered in maroon. You changed the lighting, keeping it warm but no longer seductive and red. You tore down the walls and replaced them with mahogany wood.

You went so far as to get rid of every single bottle of liquor in the place, ordering replacements for later.

Once in a while, when you were alone and everything was quiet, you swore you could feel fingertips ghosting over your scars, could hear Zsasz’s laughter down the halls. It took all of your effort and daily exhaustion to avoid thinking about him. All you knew was that Harley and the Birds of Prey were still alive.

The day before the grand reopening of the club, Dinah walked through the door.

You nearly leapt out of your skin. Smiling weakly, you waved her over to where you were sitting at the bar going over the bar food menu for the sixth time. “Drink?”

Dinah shook her head. “I’m not staying. I wanted to check it out.” She looked around the room. “It looks different.”

“That was the point.”

“Better, for sure.”

“I wanted to go for a speakeasy vibe. I even hired a jazz band,” you said. Eyeing her warily, you asked, “What’s new with you?”

You had never seen her so happy, so relaxed. She sat down on a stool beside you. “You’re some sort of money whiz, right?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Sort of.”

“I was hoping you could help me out. My friend can’t access her money. It got frozen in her accounts.”

“Ah.” You tapped the menu with your pen. “Your friend wouldn’t be Helena Bertinelli, would it?”

Dinah drew back. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a money whiz. The Bertinelli fortune is impossible not to hear about.”

“Can you do anything about it?”

You stared into her imploring eyes. “My relationship with Wayne Industries prevents me from helping out a vigilante group,” you said carefully. “I need them to protect me.”

“From what?”

“You don’t think other assholes want Roman’s empire?”

Dinah frowned. “We can protect you.”

“I need the Wayne Industries investments to keep this place open. But…I can tell you that you and your friends can get the money back if you find the banker who froze them.” You looked at her sideways. “I’m sure all he’ll need is a little persuasion. Of the ass-kicking variety.”

Dinah smiled. “We’re good at that.”

“I can get you the name. But that’s it.”

“Thank you.” Dinah glanced at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? Get out of this place?”

You laughed. “I kick numbers and stock markets and investors, not ass.”

“Helena’s fortune is a lot of money to manage.”

“Thanks, but no.”

Sighing, Dinah stood and glanced around the room once more. “How can you stand it here?”

You spun in the stool, surveying the wood-paneled space. “I remade it on my terms.”

“Why did you keep the name? And those,” she said, gesturing to the sculpture on the stage.

“I figured it was the perfect ‘fuck you’ to Sionis.”

Dinah laughed, her voice swelling to fill the space. She left, the laughter trailing after her.

The next night, the grand reopening went spectacularly. The speakeasy vibe drew a different crowd. The jazz band filled the air with soothing rhythms. No man threw a tantrum and made women dance against their wills atop tables.

At 2am, closing time, you sat up in the office by yourself, hyper aware of your solitude. As though moving through water, you closed up the bar and returned to your shitty apartment, feeling hollow and hating every second of it.

Scar greeted you at the door. Sweeping him up in your arms, you threw yourself onto the couch and cradled him, hoping his purring would soothe you.

Two quiet knocks sounded on your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself off the couch.

“Mrs. Robinson,” you called, opening the door, “I don’t have—”

You couldn’t breathe.

Zsasz looked the same as he had the last time you had seen him. Nearly. The rage and hurt were gone, his dark eyes cautious. You stepped aside, expecting him to storm through the door as was his way.

He walked past you slowly, hesitant. When the door shut, he turned and said, “You changed the club.”

You felt yourself deflate. Of course. It always came back to Roman. “Look—”

“It looks better.”

You blinked. “Thanks…” Determined to hurt yourself, you added, “Sionis would’ve hated it.”

“Not if you convinced him it was his idea.”

You wanted to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

Scar nosed at Zsasz’s shoes, trying to place his scent. Zsasz crouched down to run a hand over his fur. “Hey, little guy. He’s so big now.”

“Yeah.”

You wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been, but you kept your mouth shut. He’d leave soon enough, you told yourself.

“Why are you still living here?” Unlike the previous times he’d asked, the question wasn’t vehement or judgmental. If anything, his voice sounded…sad.

“Look,” you said, fighting the pain growing inside you, “just say or do whatever you came here for.”

Zsasz straightened slowly. Adam’s apple bobbing, he opened his mouth to speak, hesitated. He rubbed the back of his neck, patted his hair as he struggled to find the words. Your heart strained in your chest, stomach twisting as the silence stretched.

“I had to bury Roman,” he finally said. “He was…”

“You loved him,” you said quietly. “And he loved you, in his own selfish, twisted way.”

He nodded. “One day, I will get my revenge,” he said, the words coming out slowly. He met your eyes. “But not today.”

It was a start. “I can accept that.”

Relief washed over his features before another expression overshadowed it, his gaze intense. “Good.”

He seized your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

It was as though a dam within you burst. All the hurt and the worry and the frustration he caused you flooded forward, pouring itself through your lips. You wanted to hurt him and hold him and save him and be the reason for his destruction.

“I know,” he murmured against your lips, breaking away for a second. “I know.”

Backing you up against the door, he kissed you with ravenous desperation, a starved man aching to consume you. You couldn’t think past the heat of him, the taste of his mouth, the strength of his tongue. He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his body melding to yours.

You gasped for air, lips bruised from the intensity of the kiss. He dragged his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, lathed his tongue over the scar there. Your head tipped back against the door.

“You’re getting a new apartment,” he grunted. “No argument.”

“Fine,” you answered before reclaiming his lips. Growling, he pivoted away from the door, seeking the bedroom. A few strides and you both were on the bed, his body firmly seated between your legs. Your hands skated over his belt and tugged his shirt free of his pants, searching for skin. God, did he burn.

Tugging upward, you broke the kiss to let him yank the shirt off. Your hands slid to his belt.

“Wait.”

“Don’t tell me to wait,” you hissed. “I’ve been waiting.”

Staring into your eyes, he withdrew the knife from his pocket. For a moment, you felt a tinge of panic spike through you, but it passed as quickly as it had arrived.

“Choose where,” he whispered.

“What for?”

“On me,” he said. “So I don’t forget.”

Stunned, you let your gaze drop to his chest. Your hand traced the map of scars there, feeling each ridge. Just over his heart was a wide open space of unblemished skin. You tapped your finger there.

He rolled, taking you with him. Straddled on his hips, you looked down at his reverent expression. Taking the knife, you pressed the blade against the spot you had chosen, ghosting it over his flesh. He shivered, breath hitching in his throat. His hips bucked up against yours out of reflex.

“An X,” he said, breathless.

“Why?”

“One for each of yours.”

Heart stuttering, you set the knife against his skin, cutting deep. He tensed beneath you, grunting. His hands tightened on your hips as you made the second slash across the first. He sat up, blood running down his chest, and kissed your collarbone scar and your forehead one before staring into your face, a hand cradling your cheek.

“I know who you are now,” he said.

It took you a moment to realize he was referring to the first time you had met. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, nose brushing yours.

“Well, tell me,” you said.

“My new god,” he breathed against your lips.

You shoved him back onto the mattress. “Don’t you forget it.”

He grinned.

[preparetosufferemotionally]

Home, Part Four: You Left Me to Bleed

Prinexity

TW: Trauma, cursing, Unsympathetic Janus, Unsympathetic Patton, past abusive relationships, child growing up in a toxic home, manipulation, emotional abuse, physical abuse, a stray cat, playboy, Remus, Trans!Virgil, friend break up, trauma, alludes to dissociation, traumatic experiences. 

Jeremy Empire was the school heartbreaker. Fitting, since he had his broken first. He knew that these weren’t the only names he was called. Gay JD, bad boy, fuck boy, and no good peice of shit were a couple of his other favorites. Remy was never in one place, he was in five at once. He caused trouble, but no one could ever declare him guilty. HIs fathers weren’t exactly pleased with what he did, but they did acknowledge that they gave him those traits. Roman gave him the romance, Virgil the emo rebel, his uncle Remus lent the trouble maker, and Emile...oh he gave him pain. 

Pain seemed to be a family trait. Everyone in Remy’s family always had some heartbreak, some emotional destruction. Hell, even their cat, Panic!, had something wrong with his life. The cat was a stray until Remy’s dads found and adopted him. 

Regardless, none of that mattered. Remy threw on his leather jacket, grabbed a coffee, got on his father’s old motorcycle, and went to school. It was junior year, a year of stress and susceptible emotions. So, the perfect time to find someone new to hit on. Remy went through the ideas as he walked through the halls. Maybe an aggressively straight guy with obvious internalized homophobia? Or the gay nerd that really wants attention? Or the- 

Remy’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he accidentally slammed into a fellow student. 

“Shit,” He cursed. He saw the person’s tawny hair and sweater vest. Clearly a nerd, considering how many books were lying on the ground. Maybe he should help? But by the time Remy came to that conclusion, the books were already in his arms. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the person mumbled. “I’ll just go.” The person started to walk away but Remy grabbed their sleeve. They sounded familiar. The person stopped. “Could you let go of my sleeve please?” Remy didn’t respond, instead pulling the sleeve slightly, which caused the person to turn around. Remy attempted to make eye contact through sunglasses, but the person dropped their head, avoiding it like a pro. He was impressive. “Please let go of my sleeve.”

“Make eye contact and I let go.” The person shifted the books in their arms and sighed, before lifting up their head. Remy stumbled backward. A sixteen year old Emile looked at him uncomfortably through glasses. He barely changed since they were kids, still with a face that looks like it could smile in moments.  “Emile?” Remy gasped, too shocked to say anything. He hadn’t seen him since sixth grade, he had assumed he transferred schools. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Emile asked, dropping his gaze again to avoid eye contact. Remy felt all his emotions rush forward again, just like the day Emile abandoned him. He attempted to keep his cool, but it was so hard when fucking Emile was standing there, acting like they had never been friends. First leaving him alone, and now this. Emile was a son of bitch. 

Remy didn’t even realize Emile had shrunk back, holding his books to his chest, until he came close, almost nose to nose with him.

“You should.” Emile flinched, taking a step back. 

“I’m really sorry, but I just don’t know who you are,” Emile panicked. At this point people stopped to watch. It was the most interesting they’d see all day. Everyone knew who the two were. Emile would always be there with a smile if you needed help and Remy had broken hearts so many times, he was probably heartless. 

“You are a fucking monster.” Emile’s eyes filled with tears that he stubbornly held back in. Those words echoed in his skull.  Remy glared at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Emile whispered, quickly running off into the crowd. Remy watched him run off. Then he stormed off into the opposite direction. 

For the rest of the day, gossip followed the two around school. Were they scorned lovers? Mortal enemies? Did Remy break his heart? Did Emile break Remy’s? Was there a  dramatic backstory? Did the two meet and one had a concussion and forgot? Was this some alternate universe that they traveled to where only Remy knew he saw Emile? Nobody was too sure. But two things were known. Remy was furious, and Emile was terrified. And that was enough for the rumors to make their way home. 

“All I’m saying is, hypothetically, you could murder him.”

“REMUS!” 

“Whaaat?” Roman shook his head at his brother, holding Virgil’s hand gently as they sat on the couch. 

“I don’t know if you know this Mr. Mad Scientist, but in the real world murder is illegal!”

“Only if you get caught,” Virgil chimed in, petting the cat. Roman looked at him, exasperated.

“It's amazing that I’m the only impulse control in this house.” Remus cackled as Virgil chucked a pillow at Roman’s head. Remy sat silently, not talking about anything that happened today. The adults stopped when Remy remained silent.

“Hey Remy, sweetheart, are you okay? I know that must have been very upsetting,” Virgil said softly. Remy rolled his eyes and huffed. 

“Upsetting is one word for ripping out my heart and stopping on its already broken pieces.” 

“You sound exactly like your father,” Virgil snorted. Roman smiled, leaning over and kissing the top of Virgil’s head.

“What can I say, I have the better genes.” Virgil leaned on Roman’s shoulder. 

“Aren’t you related to that trash rat?” 

“Regardless, still better.”

“Alright, stop flirting with you two. Clearly your son is having an emotional crisis. And I’m shit at emotions, so do your thing,” Remus said, gesturing to Remy. Virgil sighed and nodded.

“I know this is rough-”

“You have no idea how ROUGH this is. How could he just forget me like that? We were best friends, and he abandoned me.” Virgil and Roman exchanged a look as Remy fumed. Then Roman sighed, and stepped forward.

“He didn’t abandon you.” Remy looked at him incredulously, standing up.

“Um, I’m pretty sure he did dad!” Roman shook his head. 

“He didn’t. At least not on purpose.” Remy fell back into his seat, confused.

“What?”

“Virgil will explain better.” Virgil got up and sat next to his son, one hand on his back soothingly. 

“So it looks like I’m going to have  to tell you a long story. It started in college.”

“You’re kidding. Emile abandoning me, starts when you were in college? Bullshit.” Virgil rolled his eyes while Remus and Roman exchanged a look. 

“You are very lucky I didn’t start when I was in sophomore year of college. Trust me, this shit goes back a long while.” Remy flopped backward. 

“Fiiiine.”

“Good. I wasn’t dating your father at the time, instead I was dating Deceit.”

“Okay, this is not some dudes name is it?” Roman joined in, responding for Virgil.

“No it's not, but it's very difficult for your father to refer to him by his given name.”

“Why?”

“i’m getting to that,” Virgil said, getting irritated. “I will explain everything, just please stop interrupting.” Remy rolled his eyes but nodded. “Now Deceit was not a good person.”

“That's a nice way of saying absolute dickhead,” Remus muttered. Virgil glared at him and he shut up. Remy sat up, a bit more interested.

“Anyway, he wasn’t a good person,”

“Dickhead,” Remus muttered. 

“AND his brother was a person named Patton Lugner.”

“How is this important?” Remy asked, becoming bored again, grabbing a cup of coffee and starting to sip out of it.

“COULD YOU ALL JUST LET ME SPEAK?” Everyone immediately shut up. “Thank god. Now, I had been dating Deceit since sophomore year of highschool and we moved to college together. He was the only person I knew, so I was very isolated and alone. I had terrible anxiety at the time and being alone around him made it worse.” Virgil hitched a breath. Roman came over, encouraging him with a gentle arm around his shoulder.

“Deceit could get violent. In fact, he rarely didn’t. On the outside, you wouldn’t have known it. It was so easy to fall into his trap that way. He smoothly talked and lied about everything. He could have said, ‘The sky is green’ and I would have accepted it without question. That was the type of person he was. I had been incredibly nervous so I only saw people with Deceit. Naturally that met the only people I ever saw were people Deceit trusted to not help me. So, I met his brother Patton. I was convinced he didn’t know, so I acted secretive. He did know though. About everything that went on behind the closed doors.” Virgil inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm back down. Roman soothed him, and he began to speak again.

“Then I met your uncle Remus. He was best friends with Deceit.” Remy spit out his coffee.

“WHAT?!”

“Hey, I didn’t know he was a complete dolphin’s asshole at the time,” Remus shrugged. Remy gaped at his uncle. This was quite the story to be hearing and it had barely started.

“We didn’t talk much, he was quite loud and out there, and frankly I was terrified. But one night I ran out of the dorm, absolutely terrified and in pain. And your uncle Remus was there. I was hidden by the dark and my hoodie, so he didn’t know it was me, but he was kind and asked why I was here. I said I had been hurt badly,” Virgil unintentionally flinched at the memory, trying to get back on track. “He asked who did. And I said it was my boyfriend. He wanted to get me help immediately, because despite his off the wall attitude, your uncle was a good person.”

“Why thank you Virgey.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“I said no, because I was so scared what would happen if he found out. But he tried to encourage me to leave, even if he couldn’t help. I didn’t listen at first, but the words sunk into my brain and stayed there. He succeeded in planting the doubt in my head. And one night, when I had finally had enough, I broke up with Deceit and immediately ran out the door, not listening to what he wanted to say or do next. Next thing I knew I was in the center of the grounds running as fast as I could away. And then I bumped right into your father.”

“This is like a cheesy rom-com,” Remy muttered, before Roman, not Virgil shot him a dirty look. 

“Anyway, I ran into your father. And I didn’t really know what I was doing at the time, but I begged for him to let me be in his dorm. I said I was running from someone who was trying to hurt me. Your father was always a big softie and let me come in. Turns out he was sharing a room with your uncle Remus. He was surprised to see me because,” Remus joined in.

“Aren’t you J’s roommate?” 

“I panicked immediately, but your father helped me through my attack and I calmed down. I didn’t tell them why I was scared, just that I switched rooms because Janus had a partner who was there all the time and it freaked me out. They let me stay, and eventually, I met their friend. His name was Logan Berry, and he was a very smart law student. As it happened he was friends with Deceit. Or not friends as much as acquaintances. He was, however, close friends with Patton, Deciet’s twin brother. So naturally, the twins hung out with us. I hadn’t told anyone about Deceit, but I quickly figured out from side glances and careful looks, Patton knew. And he didn’t care.”

“Should these names feel familiar? Because they are to me, but I can’t place them,” Remy asked. Virgil nodded.

“Oh they should. Patton scared the crap out of me, but he was Logan’s friend and by extension mine, so I tried to get rid of the underlying fear. And I just tried to pretend Deceit wasn’t there.  At some point your father and I started dating. He knew I had serious issues from something, but he didn’t know what. Eventually he discovered it was Deceit and I swore him to secrecy, albeit reluctantly. Then, Remus came in. He was crying. Actually crying so we knew something had happened. Remus, want to take this bit?”

“Yup! So, Logan dropped me as a friend. I didn’t know why, but it was very painful. At first I wanted to cry, and then I wanted to rip out his internal organs. But your dad was suspicious of what happened, especially after Logan started to date Patton. He went to talk to Logan, only for Logan to dismiss it and leave. Your dad got home, and then vowed to confront Patton about this.” Virgil sighed.

“So, after class, I went to go find Patton when I was stopped by Deceit. He threatened me with exposing what happened to me to everyone if I did anything. And while I had more confidence, I didn’t have enough to say ‘Fuck you, I’ll do this anyway.’ So I listened and went back, my suspicions confirmed when Logan walked back to class with foundation on his face. I’ve put on enough makeup in my lifetime, whether it was for me or to hide a bruise, so I could immediately tell what happened. I wanted to do something and tell someone what happened. But I knew no one would believe me and everyone would just end up hurt.” Remy looked confused.

“Why wouldn’t someone believe you pops? Surely people take this seriously.”

“I wish that was the case. But I was a scrawny twenty year old trans man, who hadn’t even fully transitioned yet. They don’t take this seriously when someone with confidence says stuff, how the hell could I even think of it. Regardless, things got better for me and unfortunately worse for Logan. I didn’t see him in class a week later. When I tried to call him, my number was blocked. And then he got married Patton, becoming Logan Hart.” Remy’s jaw dropped. 

“WHAT THE HELL? ARE YOU SAYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE SAYING?” Roman and Remus couldn’t help but laugh at Remy’s reaction. Virgil smiled. 

“Wait until I finish and you’ll really be shocked. Obviously, me and your dad got married and had you after we finished college. We lost contact with Logan, for obvious reasons. We knew he was married to Patton, but that was about it. Once you turned four we sent you to a preschool. You know the one fifteen minutes away? Then your father ran late to pick you up one day and that’s when we get to you. Patton was your teacher and your father vaguely recognized him. Your father suddenly saw Logan and everything clicked. You were playing with Emile, so you didn’t realize. Naturally, your dad told me what happened and I was tempted then and there to hunt down Patton Hart.”

“But,” Roman interrupted, taking the conversation, “I didn’t let him do that. Instead we bided our time. We didn’t want to ruin your and Emile’s friendship. You were both so happy. But everything went wrong on your first playdate at a house. It was ours and you had a good time. Everything seemed fine. Me and your father remained civil with Patton. Maybe this would work out. And then you asked-”

“What loud noises start at night?” Remy whispered, pulling up the distant memory in horror. Virgil nodded as Roman continued.

“And Patton immediately shut the door in our faces, bringing Emile in with him. You didn’t understand and were led back to the car. We don’t know what happened next in their home, but you can bet it was nothing good. I strongly suspect Patton might have manipulated or scared Emile into ignoring you.”

“And,” Virgil added, “Emile likely associates you with a traumatic memory and his brain blocks you out to stay safe.” Remy stared in horror at his fathers, who stared at him solemnly. 

“Holy shit.”

[stardancerluv]

At War

Part 2

Summary: Now we see Roman’s view on the last month.

Arthur’s Note: Last chapter we saw how Reader felt in the last morning. Now, we see it through Roman’s eyes. Mentions of voilence.

This last month had been incredibly hard for him. A crime wave led by a bunch of ruthless women who came to Gotham. He mused that if they wanted to play in the deep end of the crime world he’d treat them like anyone else.

In doing so, it was harder then he thought it would be. Until they showed up, he easily managed those he usually ran across in Gotham.

He enjoyed taking care of you, his girl. It was his job to protect you and take care of anything you needed or wanted. That even meant taking care of her when germs would riddle her sweet, soft body and made you sick. He hated germs. That was why he wore gloves.

If he was being honest, none of this ever concerned him. All he had ever cared about was whether his club served the best food and liquor in Gotham, whether his tailor had a new suit ready for him to pick up or which cute piece of ass would get him off on any given night.

You walked in and all of a sudden he cared about you. He wanted to be better, to do better. If Gotham was going to be his, he wanted you his girl to be happy.

So when this new crime syndicate of sorts came to Gotham and it was all these women, he had to readjust his mind set. He had known for years how unpredictable Harley could be or how lethal Poison Ivy was or how stealthy Cat-woman was but these women were different.

It was as if someone put those three into a martini shaker and added god-forbid dashes of him; spoonfuls of Two-Face, sprinkles of Penguin and slices of Victor then they shook it hard.

These last few weeks as he dealt with them cost him many long nights filled with attempted negotiations, he had lost a few of his false faces. What had pleased him, was that he and his men had taken the lives of some of her girls as well.

It all left him tired and missing you. This particular morning, he come home as the sun began to rise again.

He was supposed to meet the ring leader at the docks. Standing there and waiting, it had been too quiet. Despite, Victor and his men canvassing their own territory, they had not found her second in command. She had crouched in the shadows, waiting for the right moment.

It had been too quiet. At the last minute, he saw her shadow move along the floor before him. Looking up, he saw as she leapt down at him. He had managed to sidestep her. She had recovered easily and sprang at him.

She had thought he was just a pretty face in a suit. He had his empire and you to live for. Their scuffle lasted longer then he liked.

At one point, he had not dodged her knuckle duster punch to his side or the disgusting kiss she planted on his face as he recovered from being winded. Seeing her relax he grabbed her and threw her off him. By doing so he avoided the blade she pulled out of one of her boots.

When she landed, the sickening crunch of her hip and the scream that follow made him smile. Her leader finally had come out of the shadows and they agreed to meet face to face.

As his driver took him back to the penthouse, he would wait till he was rested and showered but he would be dishing out a punishment. Someone would pay for letting her slip in. He could have been killed and that it did not sit well with him.

So bruised and achy with the smudge of lipstick and the scent of her cheap perfume lingered. Hobbling down the hall, he leaned painfully in the doorway to watch you sleep.

Shuffling to his office, he tore off his gloves. With a groan, he loosened his belt then unbuttoned and opened his suit jacket. Stretching out on the sofa, he rubbed his temples. Later, today he would hire a masseuse. He barely closed his eyes, when he fell fast asleep.

Somewhere in his sleep, he could have sworn he felt your gentle touch. He craved it. The sensation was so strong that he woke up.

Startling, awake he looked around and found himself still on the sofa. You were nowhere to be scene. His head throbbed horribly. He hated that he could still smell her cheap perfume and dirt from the docks. He needed a long, hot shower.

As he heard water running, his lips twitched upward, you must be awake. Groaning and gritting his teeth and he got up.

Refastening, his belt he went over to his desk. Opening the second drawer, not the third drawer of his desk he put on a fresh layer of cologne. His lip wrinkled in disgust. He could still smell that cheap perfume. He spritzed on a second layer.

That’s when he remembered. He took out his handkerchief, snapping it open he rubbed off the greasy residue of the lipstick. Seeing how the lipstick lingered, he dropped the stained and ruined handkerchief.

With the idea of seeing you, he made it easily to the master bath. He watched as you put some toothpaste on your brush. He loved how your eyelashes laid on your cheeks as you brushed your teeth. A cord of yearning, pulled him the rest of the way to you. He slipped his arms around. You were so soft and warm. You smelled so fucking wonderful. He finally didn’t smell the docks or that cheap perfume.

He heard a sound pour from your lips that he had never heard before and then you dropped your toothbrush. Holding you closer and moving with you, he picked up your toothbrush from the counter.

“My poor, sweet baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He managed to say despite his mouth feeling horribly dry. Sighing, he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss against your soft throat. “I just couldn’t wait any longer to have my arms around you.” He whispered and handed you back your toothbrush.

Watching your reflection, he noticed your nose twitch. The second spritz had been too much, he chuckled. He has never been on to put on his cologne or aftershave heavily. “I didn’t want to come to you smelling of the docks and what I had to take care of last night. Too much?” His eyes, he smirked.

As you began to brush your teeth, he just couldn’t resist, tracing the gentle curve of your cheek with his nose. You smelled and felt so wonderful.

Though, it did not escape him that you were still tense in his arms. “Daddy’s home baby. Relax.” He whispered in your ear. Then he pressed a kiss onto your jaw.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24

[venusxxlangdon]

Michael Langdon x reader x Roman Godfrey headcanons

warnings: polyamory, smut, double penetration, oral, edging, mentioning of blood and face fucking, cum eating, daddy kink, soft dominance 

words: 5.2k

A/N: thank you guys for 1.1k followers, here are some hcs for one of my favorite pairings. Some of y’all’s asks have been answered here as well. Honorable mention of @micheallangdons who plotted these hcs with me    

moodboard by @micheallangdons

Before Roman met Michael and Y/N his life as a newly born upir had been nothing but an endless battle with his demonic nature. Days full of self-loathing and helpless attempts to tame his hunger had gone by before he gave up and quenched his thirst for blood, much to his mother’s triumph. She was so proud of him while he felt nothing but utter disgust and a deep abyss in his heart. Her praise seemed nothing but mockery. She could dance on his bones and still preach about her good intentions.

He did not want to admit that she had won the battle. Roman felt like he was falling deeper into the dark void. Was he going to spend the rest of his life like that? Abandoned and scared of hurting everyone he knew? These questions kept him wide awake in the middle of the silver nights and made him drown his sorrows in cognac and cigarette smoke.

He felt like an addict, storming from one bar into another, looking for hookers to feed on and then sending his people to hide the victims’ bodies. Eventually, it all turned into a regular routine and he mastered the art of draining every drop of blood from humans necks without even staining his always perfectly ironed shirts. He decided that if he turned into a stone-cold machine with no feelings and the slightest idea of attachment he would feel better. Having focused on his parents' empire, the Godfrey Institute, he became a business tycoon: ambitions, cunning, manipulating. Unfortunately, it was calm before the storm. His mother always knew what buttons to push to make him snap and lose the strings of control over his ruthless guise.

It was the night when everything went downhill. Blood was hammering in his temples, fingers gripped onto the sterling weel as he was driving to a familiar location, a bar where he was a frequent visitor. A passing car flashed the headlights, illuminating Roman’s jet black eyes. The usual forest green hues with bluish spots were swallowed up by the unbearable hunger. He could feel the roof of his mouth starting to itch, his heart beating faster.

Factitious self-control wafted around his tall figure when he entered the club. He looked out of place dressed in his black dress shirt and matching tailored slacks, the look on his face intense like an upcoming thunder, electrifying in the thick air. 

Something felt different at that time. His nostrils flared, breathing in the mix of expensive alcohol and smoke. He looked around scanning through the crowd of dancing bodies. It felt like hundreds of needles were piercing through the tips of his fingers; he gulped heavily, listening to the sound of crimson blood flowing through the people’s veins. There was something else. Something he could not quite catch. It was seeping through his fingers making it difficult for him to get a hold of it. He turned around on his heels, ignoring a confused look some girl shot at him and froze to his spot. What if his hunger caused these fantom feelings? The sensation became stronger. Godfrey turned his head in the direction of the far left corner of the spacious room. Something about it drew him closer to a big leather sofa where there was someone whom Roman had met before.

“Michael Langdon,” he breathed out, a bit too surprised. It was funny how he had not recognized his vibe immediately. They had met only once but it was something Godfrey would never forget. The blonde Antichrist had the most unique, alluring aura that would suffocate you if you did not know how to handle it. Even for Roman, who was only half-human, it was quite a challenge.

Michael was splayed out on the sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Godfrey mentally rolled his eyes at the Antichrist’s outfit, ever so extravagant: a navy blue velvet dinner jacket paired with a white shirt, his neck adorned with a big burgundy bow made of the finest silk. Long, luscious locks flowed down his shoulders, curling slightly on its end. Two blue sapphires of his eyes were narrowed, studying Roman’s figure curiously. Godfrey would never admit it, but he felt very uncomfortable under Michael’s mischievous gaze. He instinctively wanted to straighten his back to look more confident, to show Langdon who was the boss. But the pretentious smirk ghosting over Michael’s lips indicated that the Antichrist could care less about the boy’s attempt to look powerful.

“Enjoying the evening, Mr. Godfrey?” He took a sip and swiped the tip of his pointed tongue over the corner of his mouth. Michael cocked his eyebrow at Roman, clearly being aware of the upir’s hunger.

“Quite a lot,” Roman sneered and moved his gaze at the girl sitting next to Langdon with her legs that were barely covered with a short dress hooked over his lap. She was looking at Roman through the thick fan of long dark lashes framing her eyes beautifully. There was something detached in the youthful beauty of her blush and a shy smile painting her lips. For some reason Godfrey found himself embarrassed and even looked away, meeting the mocking stare of Michael’s blue eyes.

“Care for a drink?” He asked, swirling the glass in his long fingers, the metal of his rings clicking against the cut. “You look...thirsty.”

Roman gritted his teeth, the sinew on his neck pulsing.

“How sweet that it’s the matter of your concern,” he muttered, still eyeing the girl from the corner of his eyes. She smiled and hid her face in the crook of Michael’s neck, her fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt. She braced one of her slender arms around his neck and brought her face to his ear.

“What was that, kitten?” Roman clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the pet name, suddenly feeling out of place. He looked around, searching for a new victim. He spotted a girl who was sitting alone at the bar and thought that she could be a nice option. Y/N’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.

“He’s the one,” she whispered in Michael’s ear, but it was audible enough for Roman’s hearing to catch it. He snapped his eyes back at her, noticing that she was looking at him again. Whatever she had meant, it was something that did not make Michael happy. He shifted in his seat and put the glass aside on the table.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he asked, the threads of concern lacing into the tone of his voice. He gently took her chin between his thumb and index finger, slightly turning it to the side. “You can have anybody...think twice, sweetheart.”

Roman felt as if he had become an unwilling witness of something he could wish to have never seen. It all felt too intimate. He coughed and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, wondering why he was still standing there. It seemed like the girl’s heavy gaze pinned him to the floor. Michael was frowning, tapping his fingers against the knee impatiently.

“Well, if you excuse me...” Godfrey started awkwardly and shoved his palms into the pockets of his slack, brushing his thumbs over the fabric. The girl was still whispering something into Michael’s ear. He looked so concentrated that for a second Roman thought that Langdon would not even notice if he left. God knew how long he had been standing there like a fool before Langdon finally spoke to him.

“Why don’t you join us, Roman?” He suddenly offered, and the girl giggled, playing with the blonde strand of Michael’s hair. Roman watched her twist the silky locks around her fingers and let them cascade down Langdon’s shoulders. He licked his lips nervously. “I believe I haven’t introduced you to the love of my love yet, and I’m dying to fix this little omission.”

The corners of Roman’s lips twitched in amusement.

“I’m a busy man, Mr. Langdon,” he shrugged, ignoring the fact that Michael had addressed him on the first-name basis. “Hence I’m afraid we won’t have time to discuss the latest gossips.” He noticed the way the girl’s face sulked and how she slightly pushed her bottom lip forward in a pitiful pout. For the reason unknown to him, his heart swelled and suddenly he wanted to do anything to erase the sad expression off her doll face. “But I’ll be more than glad to get introduced to a beautiful lady next to you.”

She smiled and extended her hand to him which he eagerly accepted, slightly squeezing her fingers. Her palm was soft, it felt like his large hands were wrapped in the finest, pearly silk. His whole body jolted up as soon as he touched her. A shiver ran down his spine, and he looked at her with wide eyes. By the devilish sparks in her eyes, he knew she had felt it too.

“Y/N,” She said, and her voice turned out to be much lower than he had expected. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He smiled back and bent forward at the waist to bring his face closer to her hand and leave a quick kiss on her delicate skin.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Roman Godfrey, a CEO of the Godfrey Institute,” he answered proudly.

It was the beginning of something bigger than him, bigger than all of them.

A quick conversation with Langdon and his little pet, that was how Roman referred to the girl in his head, had managed to distract him from his hunger only for a short time. Soon enough he found himself apologizing for having to leave so soon.

He did not waste any time when grabbing the girl he had spotted earlier by the elbow and dragging her out of the club. Luckily she was way too drunk to care. He flashed his best smile at her, and she followed him to the car, giggling every time she stumbled on her heels.

Roman did not pay any attention when she put her hands on his crotch and tried to rub him through the fabric of his slacks, his eyes focused on the road. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress the sudden tremor in his body. He was seconds away from stopping the car and sinking his teeth into the girl’s neck. She smelled like vodka and a subtle hint of her fruity perfume. He turned his head at her and she whimpered at the animalistic gaze of his now onyx eyes.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, and suddenly her face turned into sharp features of Michael Langdon. Roman almost instantly hit the brakes.

“You look thirsty,” Langdon mocked. Thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, thirsty echoed in Roman’s head, and as he pressed his head into the back of his seat, Michael’s face got distorted into a smirking grimace. What the fuck? Beads of sweat covered Godfrey’s forehead.

“Get out!” He yelled and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw a confused face of the girl who had instantly sobered up from his cry. She was looking at him with her big eyes resembling a fish, and at that moment all he wanted her to do was to leave him alone.

“What?” She asked, adjusting the straps of her dress to let him see a full view of her cleavage. He rolled his eyes.

“You heard me,” he hissed. “Get. The fuck. Out.” He did not care if she had to walk alone in the dark.

Roman drove his way home in silence, hungry and frustrated. He slammed the door of his car shut and stormed into a big mansion. Numerous thoughts were buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees. He headed straight to the shower, hoping that it could help him clear his mind.

He was too tired and tense to care about anything but the burning ache in his bones. Roman let out an inhuman cry when the streams of hot water hit his shoulder blades. He wished they could wash every cell of his disgusting being off the face of the earth. He hugged himself and dug his fingers into his skin as if he was going to rip it off. His plump bottom lip was trembling as he let his anger unwind. He didn’t want any of this, any of this life. He hit the wall with the fist and rested his forehead against the cool tile, sobbing brokenly. Fucking hell.

When he finally crawled out of the shower and reached for the towel to wrap it around his hips, he suddenly got glued to the spot. His nostrils flared. The waves of very powerful energy waged over him bringing the feeling of deja vu. His stomach did a flip at the thought that he was not alone in his mansion and what was even worse — his intuition knew the names of the intruders. Roman did not even care to dress up before he left the bathroom and made his way into his bedroom. His heart skipped a beat when he heard two low voices behind the closed door. No, it could not be true. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and turned his wrist to the left, pushing the door open with his hip.

Frankly speaking, now when he thinks about what happened that night, Roman is thankful that he did not kill Langdon and Y/N the second he saw them sitting on his bed. He remembers the shock and confusion. He thought he was hallucinating.

Langdon took his time to explain why they were in his bedroom while Roman was standing before them with his eyes wide open and his whole body unable to move. Y/N had been having the same dream over and over again: she was saving a young man from something she could not explain. The only thing she knew was that they needed to find him. Michael had never been into charity but he was ready to indulge the wish of the love of his life. Little had he known thar eventually she’d come to him and say that the stranger should have become a part of their relationship. Well, that was too much.

Michael did not understand the urge. Possessive by nature, he was not going to share her with anyone. “I’m not a fucking saint,” he shouted in her face while she was looking at him with her eyes full of tears.”And I’m definitely not a fool.” 

They had spent days fighting over that matter until she won. Langdon did not know what exactly made him change his mind: the sadnesses that flooded his lover’s mind and became unbearable for him to handle or the unknown force within himself.

“Let’s see who’s the one needing our help first,” he said through gritted teeth, secretly hoping that Y/N would drop that idea soon enough.

To find out that it was Roman Godfrey being the one in need of help was similar to being punched in the face. When he and Y/N were following the upir on his way home, Langdon tried to do his best to talk her into choosing someone else.

“He’s in pain,” she begged, turning her head at him, “don’t you feel it, Michael? I know you’re aware of how torturous his hunger is.”

“And why should I care?”

“Because I do,” she protectively crossed her arms, “and you care about me. He’s special, Michael. He needs help.”

“Fuck, remind me to ask my father why he chose a fucking angel as my eternal partner,” Langdon rolled his eyes and sped up the car.

He did not believe that any of them would ever turn this into a relationship. He was sure that Y/N would drop the idea as soon as she would see how fucked up Godfrey was. He refused to admit that at that moment jealousy was boiling in every fiber of his body.

When Roman started spitting the curses out, and the subtle hint of doubt sparked in Y/N’s eyes, Michael was celebrating his triumph. However, his content didn’t last. Y/N had this weird talent of persuading people, and eventually, both men fell victims to her charm.

Neither of them knew how to act. Michael couldn’t overcome the feeling of disdain he felt toward the younger boy and he was determined to treat him as such until he would prove that he was worthy of his respect.

On the other hand, Roman didn’t understand why she had to “win” anyone’s trust when it was Langdon and Y/N who had broken into his house and decided to make him “a proud member of their relationship”.

“You two,” he pointed his finger at them, “are fucking insane.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t done anything worse than this,” Michael scoffed, “I’m sure impregnating Letha was far less moral”

Those words nearly brought the entire venture to its end.

Roman realized that he really needed help, Langdon’s help, when the Antichrist had soothed his thirst for blood. Using his magic, Michael subsided Godfrey’s desire to kill and for the first time in what it seemed like forever, the upir could breathe.

Y/N made him believe that his kindhearted human nature was still within him. Of course, it took her months to persuade Roman, but the result was worth it. He desperately wanted to be good. All those sleepless nights he had been punishing himself for his victims were gone, and finally, he found someone who could turn him to the light. Well, technically they had found him.

Funny, how salvation came from the Antichrist and his lover. They moved from Roman treating the affair among the three of them as just sex to a deep, serious commitment.

It took Roman a lot of time to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore. The three of them took care of each other.

The turning point happened when Roman had another breakdown. He had been dealing with his hunger relatively good thanks to Michael and Y/N’s influence, but then he went on a business trip and just snapped. 

He rested his head in his hands, trying to keep breathing, but it felt like the air had suddenly got thicker. He rushed to a small fridge in his hotel room, looking for a bag of blood that he had stored in case of emergency, but the shelves were empty. He growled in frustration, his senses becoming more acute. His thirst, an obsession with blood, always put him in a weird, dizzy state where he could barely control himself. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. A white fog covered his eyes and enveloped his brain like a thick blanket. He couldn’t think straight.

“Heeeeelp!!” A loud, animalistic scream of a man he was holding in his arms, pulled him out of the trance. Godfrey opened his eyes and faced the dreadful look on the poor man’s face. He had no idea who it was and how he ended up there, in a dark alley far from anyone’s eyes. He tossed the man’s body aside like a useless puppet and looked at his hands covered in blood.

“What are you?” He snapped his head at the man who was on his hands and knees, looking terrified. Roman inhaled sharply, his body trembling as if he had a fever.

“You better fucking run,” he managed to bark. Panic rose inside of him like a tsunami, flooding his mind with a bitter aftertaste of fear and despair. He was scared of himself. He instinctively reached for the phone in the back pocket of his jeans and pressed one button of a speed dial. Please, pick up the phone, please, pick up the-

“Yes?” A familiar soothing baritone responded.

“Langdon, please...” Godfrey sobbed, feeling ashamed of his weakness. He fell to his knees against the dirty stone wall and squeezed his eyes tightly, but it didn’t prevent a couple of crystal tears from falling down his sharp cheekbones. “Help me, I’m begging you, Langdon.”

Michael did not need any explanation.

“Think of the place where you are at now,” when he spoke his voice was ringing with ice and calmness. Roman let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll come get you.”

“Okay,” he whispered and concentrated on the scenery he needed Michael to see.

Langdon was there in no time.

Something about Y/N kept Roman glued to her. Maybe this nagging feeling in his chest was aroused by the radiant warmth that surrounded her like a halo. “How does she even handle you, Langdon?” He once teased Michael.

The dynamic between her and the Antichrist was amusing as well. Roman did not like to admit it but he had been fascinated by Michael’s protectiveness over her since that time when he met them at the club. He thought that such a delicate flower as Y/N deserved nothing but the most careful guidance.

“Is she your little girl?” He asked, folding his hands over his chest and watching Y/N make her way toward Langdon and taking her seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around Michael’s shoulder.

“She’s my girl,” the blonde man answered, his palm cupping her bum and gently squeezing through a flimsy fabric of her dress, “but she’s not little. She does need me to take control when we’re intimate, but it’s never about age regression.”

Dominant by nature, Roman wanted to take care of the gorgeous girl, sitting on Michael’s lap, too. He missed the moment when he had started dreaming about her calling him daddy and letting him touch her wherever he wanted. He desired to learn every inch of her body because Michael seemed to had known where to touch, pet, and lick in order to turn her into a pliant mess.

She looked angelic in her pink and white set, her body splayed out on the expensive sheets, hair tossed around her head as Michael worked his tongue between her parted thighs (her panties were pulled aside), making her tug on his blonde locks and moan his name out loud.

“You need to earn the privilege to make her feel this good, puppy,” Langdon said, using the back of his palm to wipe Y/N’s cum off his full, glistening lips, looking extremely pleased with himself.

And Roman did. He was a bit rougher than Michael at times due to his impatience and youthful maximalism which worked perfectly in tandem with Langdon’s soft dominance. Secretly, he thrived off of bossing Roman around and telling him what to do. He loved holding the younger boy by his neck and burying his face between Y/N’s legs, making him feast on her pussy.

“Good boy,” Michael mused, letting go off of his grip. Roman was panting heavily when he pulled away from her throbbing core. He inhaled sharply and his body jolted forward back to her center when Langdon slid his hands down the younger boy’s torso, encouraging him to continue.

Godfrey found himself addicted to this romance. The obvious competition for Y/N’s attention was making his blood boil but it was different from what his hunger had been making him feel. Ardor electrified every sense in his body and made him feel alive.

She indulged his panty kink like nobody else. Y/N always wore the pretties undergarments, and to pull her panties down and off her legs with his teeth was Roman’s favorite thing to do. He loved dragging the lacy piece down while looking her in the eyes, making her watch his every move. She looked the prettiest when lying against Michael’s chest, while the blonde man was playing with her nipples, caressing them with featherlight touches.

Roman often found himself in a reverse position: blindfolded and gagged with her lacy thong. “Keep riding him, doll,” he moaned at Michael’s command and the increased pace of Y/N’s hips moving in sync with his hammering heartbeat.  

Thanks to Michael and his training, Roman became more patient and grew to enjoy edging their girl for hours. He and Michael would have her on her back, hands and legs bound to the bed and with a vibrator pressed against her clit. She looked ethereal, all desperate for his and Langdon’s cocks. The delicious stretch that both cocks made her feel was indescribable. She felt so, so full and worked up, but most importantly — she felt safe and taken care of.

Sometimes, as a part of her punishment, they would not let her cum for days. Prohibited to touch herself, she was suffering from the overwhelming arousal flooding her body. She’d try to clench her thighs, to rub herself against the armrests of Michael’s chair, to hump her pillow, but it seemed like the two men always knew what she was up to. They were always there to hush her and remind that if she continued “acting like a bratty slut” they’d have to extend the period of punishment. Godfrey and Langdon knew what buttons to push. One day when she was on her third day of edging, Roman came up to her when she was washing the dishes and slowly started peppering her neck with kisses. Being impossibly horny, she instantly leaned into his touch, hoping that her punishment was over. He fingered her until she turned into a whimpering, pleading mess, begging his to free his cock that she could feel against her ass from the confines of his slacks and fuck her right there on the kitchen counter. But the upir only laughed and pulled his hand out of her panties, leaving her on the verge of tears, wanting more.

Langdon loved eating her from behind while she was on her knees before Roman and sucking his cock, letting the mix of his precum and her saliva drip down her chin and breasts. She would cup the two mounds in her palms and smear the liquid all over her nipples, twisting and rolling them between her fingers. She could feel Michael’s hair brushing over her thighs every time he brought his mouth to her center to bury his tongue into her heat.

The men loved spoiling their girl. Her closet was full of the most beautiful designer dresses and the prettiest underwear. Roman adored when she put on a little show for them every time they’d buy something for her.

“Sit back and enjoy, daddies,” she’d tell them, and Michael and Roman would wait for her to come out of the bathroom in the new see-through set adorned with ruffles and pearls that matched her angelic personality but also showed off her spicy, devilish side. They nearly choked on their whiskey when she took a couple of elegant strides toward them and bent over to demonstrate how deliciously the sheer fabric of the panties hugged her bum, a purple jewel of a butt plug poking through the lace.

Michael’s blood ritual was something Roman always looked forward to. The first time he witnessed it, the younger boy thought he was going to lose his mind from how erotic it looked. That was when he tasted Langdon’s blood. His silver tongue glided over the Antichrist’s smooth, porcelain skin, leaving burning imprints in its wake. Michael’s chanting in Latin was mixing with the sound of Y/N’s moans and the obscene slapping of  Langdon’s flesh against her thighs. The men’s eyes were as dark as cosmos, illuminated by the light radiating from the candles that were put in a circle around their entwined bodies. There were no green and blue, only dark, deep emptiness of the supernatural creatures.

Michael know what big stress the ritual was for Y/N, thus he always made sure to take care of her afterwards, and Roman was always there to help. They’d carry her upstairs and run her a bath.

Speaking of bathing together, Godfrey loved when she rode him and Michael in the tub. The used a water-based lube, so it would not be uncomfortable for all of them. Plus, doing anal in the tub where everything was nice and clean was a lot easier. Roman adored the view of her breasts bouncing before his face as she kept moving on his length up and down, her wet hair clinging to her face.

Aftercare was the most important thing after making Y/N cum, of course. Especially if sex was rougher than usual. Sometimes the mood would strike for forceful face fucking, slaps across her tender cheeks and a cum shot all over her pretty face, but Roman and Michael always made sure to tell her how good she was for them.

“We’re so proud of you,” Langdon whispered against her cum-stained lips, and she smiled so wide, feeling happy and satisfied with how she had taken him and Roman. Every inch of her body was sore, muscles burned from overstimulation, but the pleasure that had come beforehand was worth it. She could still feel the mix of Michael’s and Roman’s cum seeping out of her, so she indulged the temptation to snake her hand between her legs to collect the pearly essence and lick it all clean.

When it was getting darker the following scene was very common for their mansion: Y/N was curled up on Roman’s lap while he was absentmindedly playing with her hair, threading his fingers through the soft strands. Michael usually worked till his eyes would get tired, so after a while, Godfrey and Y/N came up with an idea of how to get the Antichrist’s attention. Roman wouldn’t take his eyes off the tv as he slowly dragged his palm down her body and rested it on her thigh, his fingers barely swiping over the hem of her pj shorts. She looked up at him and shifted a bit, pressing her body against his torso. Roman toyed with a little bow on her waistband and slightly pulled the ribbon to untie it and slip his fingers under it, frowning when he touched the fabric of her panties. He looked down at her and mouthed “Why are you wearing them?” She shrugged and smiled, her breath was already uneven and heavy. She had to bite her knuckles to suppress a needy whimper threatening to fall from her lips. She wriggled her bum and parted her legs, letting Roman properly touch her. He cupped her pussy in his palm, outstretching the fabric of her already wet panties and shorts, starting to massaging her clit in slow, lazy circles.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Michael said in a sing-song tone, making Y/N nearly jump out of her skin. She looked at him with her eyes wide open and instinctively covered Godfrey’s hand between her thighs with her palm.

“Get back to work, Michael,” Roman mewled, ignoring Y/N’s attempts to close her legs. He smeared her arousal all over her folds, earning a loud gasp from her.

“It’s hard to concentrate when I can fucking smell her,” Michael drawled, gripping on the pen with such force that he nearly broke it.

So yeah, Roman’s plan always worked.

They loved traveling together. Eating fresh croissants in France, tasting every sort of pizza in Italy, buying the best vine in Spain, and walking down the narrow street in Monaco. Even though Roman and Michael were busy they always found time to take their girl, who looked good in white summer dresses, with her skin glowing and lips dripping with juices of ripe fruits, somewhere nice. 

tagging those who expressed their interest in this pairing: @divinelangdon @littledemondani @ms-mead @emmyrosee @mega-combusken @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @michaelsrighthand @hecohansen31 @1-800-bitchcraft @saturngirlz @desidia-1 @langdonsdemon @kaigitana @peachesandfern @livanka @lovelylangdonx

[smarmaladey]

The Bad Touch - (1/3)

Chapter 1 - “you and me”

Rating: 🇪

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Relationship(s):  🐞♡🚺

Words: 4032

Ao3 Link

(For content warnings and additional notes, click read more.)

The recessive vampire genes in Giorno's blood haven't been sitting too well with him lately. AKA, your boss is in heat. Oh god. Oh fuck. 

content warnings: rape/non-con elements, ooc (probably), AU (probably)

Enjoy!

♡🐞♡

Sunday.

4:00 PM.

The first incident.

♡🐞♡

Christ.

Seriously? In your three years working in espionage, this was the most tedious assignment you’d ever gone with? Retrieving a couple godforsaken papers from some insignificant rival group?

Whatever. It was done.

The fruits of your labor were safely tucked in the inside of your coat, ready to be delivered to the big man himself.

You could never fully understand why your boss always made you deliver crap straight to him. Maybe it was a trust thing?

During the span of your near two-year “career” under Passione, you’d managed to be slung up the ranks by the combination of your competence, ability, and tendency to work alone. This meant getting strangely close with the head of the whole shebang, normally taking your assignments straight from the man.

You never really made a big deal out of this. Giovanna was far from a super-secretive man, nor was he cold like one might expect from a goddamn mob boss. Hell , If the lowest, newest, meekest member of a scummy group did one thing that pleased him, he’d probably invite them to dinner at the most prestigious establishment in Rome. Or at least that’s what he came across as to you.

It was kind of sketchy.

But you didn’t really care, nor did you have any right to criticize the guy.

Dwelling on those thoughts wasn’t your style. All you had to do today was: Deliver the file, leave the office, get home, and finally, watch your shows. Simple.

After somehow making your way through his large estate to his office all by yourself, something was a little off.

The door was closed all the way.

You cracked it open a little bit, the too-loud creaking making you uneasy.

“Sir…?”

“Ah,” his voice was much too quiet, and almost...frantic. “Who’s this?”

How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? “Uhm, me?” You took the liberty of letting yourself in, slightly put off by how dim the room was. Facing you was the back of a leather chair.

Giovanna was looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of his office, curtains pulled half-open, casting soft afternoon light into the room. “...I’m guessing you have the documents?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…” Muttering under your breath, you took the black folder from your coat.

He turned around when he heard your footsteps (because of course he could), being illuminated by the yellow-er light from the ceiling lamp.

The files were gently set down on his desk, and you caught him looking up at your face.

Something you’d been noticing for the past few months, (actually, you were pretty sure it began around his eighteenth birthday) he’d been... adorning himself more than usual…? As if he wasn’t already grandiose enough, he’d been wearing makeup quite a lot more than you were used to.

Giovanna smiled up at you, and successfully got you to avert your gaze. His lips were glossed with a very lovely fuchsia, but what really caught your eye were his cloud-white, glittering teeth. And you had no clue why. Something was off about his teeth, besides the fact that, like the rest of him, they were grossly perfect.

He was clad in a classic; magenta suit with numerous full-golden brooches. (Those ones were new, given to him by a “friend of the organization” apparently, and you had no idea why you knew this) Glancing at his hands on the folder, his nails, manicured into rounded points and painted white, contrasted with the signature black leather of your favorite binder.

Strange. His door was completely shut, as if nobody had seen him for the entire day. Why was he still dressed up…?

Swallowing nothing, you took a step back.

“Let’s see…” Your boss’s voice was still quiet, as he carefully tugged the manila files out and placed them on his desk. “Ah, bravo! These are exactly what we’ve been looking for!”

Before you knew it, he had snatched your hand and was shaking it with both of his. The nails digging into your wrist made you cringe.

”Thank you, Sir...thank you…” You tried with all your being not to sound confused or ungrateful, especially with those...intense turquoise eyes glaring up into your soul.

“I expected nothing less of this, perfect job!” His hands lingered for too long before he dropped to start reading the documents again.

You mumbled something, turned around, and began to leave. Yet, just as your hand was on the tacky flower-themed doorknob, he stopped you.

“Wait,” the jump from his chair was audible. “I, ahem, I never dismissed you.” There was a small giggle in his voice, and you weren’t buying it.

Ugh.

“Awh, but Don Giovanna~~! ♡ I’ve had such a long, looong day, and my poor body’s so, sooo tired! Please let me go home, haven’t I done such a good job already~? ♡ There’s a new X-Files episode premiering tonight, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world~!”

That’s what you could’ve said in an ideal world.  

“Right.” In that world, he’d let you leave right away, “am I needed for anything else, Giovanna?” And then you’d go to your quiet, expensive beach house and get an amazing night’s sleep.

He shuffled in his seat a bit. “Yes, why don’t you hang up your coat?” He spoke without looking at you, scanning the files in front of him. “You must be hot in this room, I know I’ve been all day…”

You nodded once. “I think the air conditioning here might be broken…” your boss’s words mostly flew over your head. “I’ve just been feeling so overheated lately. I even keep the door shut now just so the cool air doesn’t leave this room…” You nodded again. “Do you think I should get a fan?” Again.

When you fully took off your heavy coat, you flinched.

Holy shit, it’s freezing.

With your bare arms exposed, you finally processed how cold it was in the room. No sooner did the temperature register with the rest of your body.

The coat rack, like a lot in the room, was floral themed. The decoration of the entire office was pretty on point, but when you walked back across the room again, something new grabbed your attention.

On the ceiling, the round lamp that hung down had a new look. The paper lampshade had a sort of “Classical Asian Art” look to it, like Japanese “Ukiyo-e” or whatever it was called. Neat.

“Nice lamp.” You said, breaking the silence. Giovanna glanced at you, and you pointed up at the ceiling. “It looks nice.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Sitting across from him, you felt somewhat trapped. Just a little, though. It was just...quiet, with him reading papers and you...not.

This guy…

Your heart jumped when he shut the folder in front of your face. “Could you do me a favor, please?” Giovanna pointed somewhere behind you, at one of the many bookshelves lining the walls. “There should be a…” He cleared his throat, something he had been doing a lot during this meeting. “...a sort of history book on the Holy Roman Empire over there...”

Not bothering to say anything else, you got up. He gave you clarification and you were happy to get a little farther from him.

The books were all similar-looking with hard-to-read spines. It honestly felt like they were all sorted by color rather than title, and perfectly lined up with one another. How can one man manage to be so perfectly organized?

“Sir, which shelf is it?” You weren’t answered, as Giovanna had to clear his throat again. “...are you alright? Have you been ill these past few days?”

He waved at you not to worry. “I should be fine, I’ve just been so thirsty lately…”

“Ah.”

“It’s so strange, my throat is constantly dry…”

“That so? Would you like me to get some water?” You offered, still facing the bookshelf.

Once more, he cleared his throat. “No, that’s not necessary. Don’t worry about me too much…”

Everything seemed to stop awkwardly.

“It’s probably on the fourth shelf down, the title should be obvious…”

And like that, you found it.

“Grazie, grazie!” Giovanna almost cooed to you when you handed him the leatherback book. When he took it from you, his nails hit your fingertips, but you were distracted by seeing his teeth again. Still, you couldn’t tell what was up.

“Yeah, right…” You sat back down across from him, as he almost immediately started looking through the pages. “So why do you need the history book again…?”

He slid a document to you and pointed at some random word. “Well, it seems like in these records, they refer to--” Out. Everything else he said went through one ear, out the other.

“...right.”

“--and in this, this is a--”

“...yeah.”

“--which leads me to this one, which I have…”

When he trailed off, it went quiet again.

“This. I’ve seen this quote before!” He was pointing at the bottom of one of the first documents you snatched.

You were about to respond with another “oh really?” before he pointed out at another bookshelf, this time much closer to the desk.

“It’s smaller, but it’s right over there, I’m pretty sure.” Again, the books were all sorted by size and color, so you couldn’t tell anything from each other. He must’ve taken off the sleeves, too, because some didn’t even have a title on the spine.

You really wanted to snarl something at him. “Where am I looking again?”

Giovanna tried to clarify the location again, but it wasn’t working with you. Just get up yourself, asshole.

And he did! For the first time you’d seen that day, he rose from his chair and stared at the same row of books you were. Maybe the same exact book you were looking at. He must’ve, why else would he be standing so close?

“I could’ve sworn I put it around here…” You could hear his breathing. Stepping away, you watched him stand stiff and stare at all the books.

Your eyes were beginning to hurt. It’d been so long since you’d slept, all you needed was to go. “Enough, what’s the title of the book?” You were careful not to groan or scoff before or after you spoke.

Giovanna touched his chin with his index, looking, frankly, gorgeous from a profile shot. “It was called...ah, Invitation to a Beheading? Something like that?”

Something clicked in your head so fast you could’ve sworn you heard a ring.

“Ohhh! I’m pretty sure I remember my mom reading that book!” A quick memory of the book’s appearance flashed in your head, that matched something you had seen on another shelf earlier perfectly. “It’d be over here-”

Now, what happened next needs to be analyzed, because you were 99.9% sure this single moment was the straw on the camel’s back. The action that began the downfall. The great whore to your Babylon.

All you did was turn around, turn around right next to him, so you could head to another bookshelf.

The thing was, you weren’t paying attention to how you were moving your arms, only focused on the stupid goddamn book. Innocently, your arm swung and, as a result, your hand just brushed against his --Giovanna’s, your boss’s-- upper thigh...area. The back of it. You know, that area, the one between the tailbone and the leg, that one.

To put it bluntly, you touched his ass.

Both you two froze in that moment, you could tell. Maybe time stopped.

"...civetta."

You looked back around, to make sure you had heard that right.

"I'm sorry…?"

"Ah...you're such a little tease, aren't you…?"

Huh?

Blood in your veins went cold when you saw the pure, unadulterated salacity in his eyes.

Your fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and you tried to look to the side, or even turn around, but it was much too late. Giovanna had promptly moved to you, caged your face with his hands and turned you up to look at him.

The eye contact was brief, his gaze drilling into yours, before he forced you into a kiss.  

A shock went down your spine and made you stiffen. Almost instantly, you tasted the strange (and revoltingly pleasant) flavor of his lip gloss, and grew hyper-aware of not only the shape of his mouth, but the contrast of his body heat against yours.

Eyes widened, you uttered out a shocked, muffled noise that only seemed to make his ever-growing body temperature even warmer.

You tried to push against him, but he just grunted and tugged your body against his. Squishing your eyes shut, you tried pushing and palming at his chest, which only made him hold on tighter.

Eventually he detached for air, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you appearing only briefly. Giovanna's green eyes were absolutely hazed over, a vibrant pink dyeing his usually white face.

A million words were dashing through your head --why? what? who? how? me? you?-- but your brain was incapable of stringing together anything coherent.

It wouldn't have mattered if it had been, though, because almost as soon as the golden boy had pulled away, he pulled in once more.

This time, he took advantage of your pried open mouth to invade you near completely. In the midst, your tongue ended up brushing against one of his teeth--one of his canines.

Sharp. Too sharp.

With that, it was cut short by you successfully jerking away. While he didn't let you go, Giovanna withdrew again, wiping off his smeared lip gloss with the back of his hand.

"Sir! I--" Idiotically, you had assumed it was over, but surely enough, your wrists had gotten snatched.

Next thing you knew, the side of your face had been pushed up against the nearest vertical surface, with Giovanna mewing your body with his own.

"Gh…no..." Your voice had gotten higher, weaker too, "Sir...ah, Don Giovanna, please...I don't understand...why, what is this…?"

"You 'don't understand'? Really now?"  

You trembled at how close his voice had become, now so close to your ear that you could hear his tongue detaching from the roof of his mouth. “Sir, I--”

“Ah,” he breathed out a small laugh, “don’t try and play coy with me, cara, you knew exactly what you were doing…”

Giovanna had noticed how you reacted to his voice, so he decided to drag his tongue along the shell of your ear, before kissing it directly. Again, you let out a weak noise as warmth shocked your body.

Trying to get away from his voice, you turned forward and pressed your forehead against the shelf, perhaps in an attempt to squeeze yourself between the books and escape.

"Oh, when you tried to leave me earlier," he was beginning to sound almost whiney with how breathy his voice was becoming, clutching your shoulder and hand with an iron grip. "I swear, if you left, I would've…"

He never finished that statement, too distracted by trailing his hand from your shoulder, down your torso, all the way to the bottom of your high-waisted shorts.

"These...ah, did you really expect to come in here, wearing these, and be able to get away~?"

Even with your panic-blinded brain, you knew you had worn these (admittedly, skimpy) pants around him plenty of times before. He never had any problems until now…

"Giovanna, this is- ah!"

Your words were choked back when he had slipped his hand beneath the waistband of your pants. Underwear too, as he wasted little time trying to force his hand between your closed thighs.

His hand had no trouble finding that little rift in your flesh, middle finger delving between and pressing against the sensitive little nub inside.

In a near instant, your legs went from straight to bent, beginning to tremble. You cursed yourself for near literally becoming putty in his hands, but your brain was still fried and unable to think straight.

With a charming, pleased hum, he swirled his finger around, generating more embarrassing sounds from you. He kept his chest firm on your back, making sure you couldn't wriggle away from his grasp.

Giovanna slid his finger lower and curled it, his digit entering your body with a very slight pinch. You yelped again, hyper-aware of the quiet, very muffled squelching sound made.

"Oh, it's so wet here…" he tittered, sending even more polarizing feelings coursing through your veins.

"N-no...not there, you can't…" The softness of his hand, the smoothness of his nail, invading your warm insides made you feel extremely weak, like your body could cave in at any second. Your feet began to slide back on the hardwood floor, so Giovanna took extra care securing his lower body against yours as well.

Tragically, you tried rocking against his hand, begging for relief. That stopped when you realized you could feel his hard-on through the material of his satin clothing.

He decided he'd had enough of whatever this was, extracting his hand from your clothing and backing up a tad. After lapping his finger clean, he took a second to "compose" himself.

"I apologize, I know this isn't the most comfortable place for us, at the moment…" you were gently hugged from behind, him nuzzling into the top of your head a bit.

You wanted to take the opportunity to break away from him, but before you could even realize he had hastily lifted you up. The bright light made you reflexively shut your eyes, but it didn't stop you from trying to wiggle out of his hold.

Giovanna brought you to his large, cushioned chair, sitting himself down and maneuvering your limbs just so you were straddling him. He tried to hug you again, but you pushed yourself away, hands at his chest.

"Sir…please, we have to stop." A tiny, nagging part of your brain knew this wouldn't reason with him, so you added on, "...not now. Not here, at least…"

His engaged expression turned into a soft, content smile.

Holy fuck, did I actually get him to listen? Will I actually get away with my dignity after all?

You nearly smiled at the seemingly good sign.

But instead of letting you go, he spun the chair around, grabbing your wrists.

Actually, it wasn't him grabbing you. Not exactly.

Ghostly white-gold hands faded in, pulling your arms away from each other, as he pushed your torso away, tugged your shins so they dropped from the chair and onto the floor, and secured your pelvis against his.

In the end, the position you had been forced into was both uncomfortable and humiliating, with G • E restraining your arms, the edge of the desk pressing into the small or your back, and to top it all off, your boss firmly holding your groins together.

It made you want to cry, so you did. Just a little bit, though.

"Ah, please don't worry! I don't plan on having briefings with anybody else, so let's not worry about…"

He completely trailed off, losing his train of thought as he looked over your body in silence. It stayed like this for a couple seconds, with him not exactly sure what to do next, and you refusing to look at anything.

Eventually, he leaned forward a bit, reached to the bottom of your top. You glared at his hand as it grabbed onto the hem, and in a single motion, yanked it over your chest. The cold air enveloped your now exposed breasts made your muscles jerk inward, giving the desk a little shake.

In the tense moment, he kind of just stared for a few seconds, eyes round and doe-ish, face very flushed.

He doesn't know what he's doing. And he doesn't even care.

Wetness dotting his yellow lashes, he suddenly wrapped his arms around your torso, nudging up into the crook of your neck and drawing in your scent. You would've wondered why he looked like he was crying, but your mind was occupied with the embarrassment that came with knowing how sweaty you were. Not like he cared.

Giovanna pressed a couple pecks to the bottom of your jaw, before lowering and quickly licking up the side of your neck. He pulled back about a centimeter, and you watched in suspense as  his eyes trailed down to your chest.

He traced a very faint vein with the tip of his nail, one embedded in your breast, until he reached your nipple, erected by the cold air. He took it between the tips of his fingers, rolling it gently.

The muscles in your chest tensed as he cupped your tit with one hand, and slid the other down your body again.

While groping you, he had his lips ghosting the area around your collarbone, wanting to feel every small detail of your skin. His breath felt like it was getting hotter every second, and you were sure that the stuttering little snivels coming out of your mouth were only making things worse.

With a little roll of his chair, Giovanna pushed his groin up against yours, the slight friction made on your vital spot just enough to make you squirm.

His hands really had no right to feel as wonderful as they did, smooth and supple, incredibly warm, and glazed with a sheer bit of sweat. It felt like they were made for your body, as it accepted his touch completely, whether he was groping you or continuing to explore your insides with his digits.

You continued to try and fight back, be it very weakly, by wiggling your lower body best you could. What made you completely give up the quarrel was Giovanna leaning down and taking one of your stiff teats in his mouth. The sudden feeling made you reflexively cave in your chest, as your elbows finally touched the cool wood of his desk. In the back of your hazed mind, you took note of how G • E loosened his hold.

He put more pressure on your body, eyebrows knit, like he was savoring the taste of your skin. As he grew rougher, you felt his sharp canines poke at your supple flesh, and you jerked again.

Giovanna responded by slipping another digit inside, pushing you back a tad more while staying latched on your chest.

Too much. It's all too much.

With seemingly nothing else to do, you let your head drop back. Then, you saw an opportunity.

The lamp.

See, while you had been tangled up in getting restrained by your Boss's Stand, you somehow forgot one critical fact; that you had one too.

The key to escaping this Freudian Nightmare was, quite literally, glaring you in the face.

And all you needed was just another little push…

As if on cue, your arms slid back about a half-centimeter more, and you grabbed the opportunity with an iron grip.

Now.

In an actual blink, Giovanna's ceiling lamp imploded, causing the room to go dark. The minor vacuum caused was enough to make the desk shake, and you slide across and onto the floor ahead.

Despite landing awkwardly on your shoulders, you hastily got on your ass, tugged down your shirt, and rose to your feet.

The relief you felt when you finally reached the door was indescribable, yet you still found yourself glancing back.

Pulverized glass was still falling through the air, what once remained of the most interesting part of the room now glittering with sunset light. Giovanna, on the other hand, had rolled his chair back a bit, adorably rubbing his eyes.

Hit one!

The beat of your heart was racing, yet…

"Giorno, I'm sorry!"

Hit two!

You had no time to dwell on your apology, though, as you rushed out the door.

Hit three! Triple fuckup combo!

You leapt off the mezzanine to the ground floor, and made a dash to the exit.

The cool air of the night came to rightfully claim you. That night, while running across the Italian countryside, you felt rather different.

Needless to say, you missed that night's episode of X-Files.

♡🐞♡

n: thanks to aaron for making the title cards for me, he’s a great skunk man!  I said i was gonna do it, and here i am.  Hopefully this means i’ll be able to start using tumblr a bit more frequently... Or maybe it won’t, who knows? I’ll post the second chapter here tomorrow, and as for the last one...it’s coming, don’t fret :D

[sides-of-demigods]

The Tide Has Turned Pt. 1

Word Count: 2,062

Warning(s): Just the usual fighting and cursing, infirmary/hospital, blood/ichor, Unsympathetic Remus, mentions of injuries

Author’s Note: Okay, so unless Tumblr decides to fuck with me, this should end up being three parts. I’ll let you know if anything changes. ALSO! Asks for characters will be closed until the third part is published, in order to not accidentally mess with the plot. But asks for me are open as usual! Title taken from Empires by Ruelle, I highly recommend you listen to that while reading this.

Part 2, Part 3

Virgil could hardly believe he had ended up in this situation.

Here he was, in the middle of the woods on his way to fight Roman’s completely deranged sort-of-twin brother, who knew he was coming, with nothing but his shield and his boyfriend’s enchanted sword. Oh, and two gods, one of which was almost guaranteed to be his father. Even better, since one was his father, no one but Virgil could get anywhere near them because they’d be completely consumed with fear. So Virgil was completely on his own. Great. He loved this.

His hold on Roman’s sword reflexively tightened as he thought about what was waiting for him ahead. At the moment it was in its single sword form, which was at least similar to Virgil’s own sword. But he’d trained with all the forms of Roman’s sword, so at least he had options. The grip, while unfamiliar, was familiar enough that it comforted Virgil. The faint golden glow, rather than the bronze of Tempest, helped as well, almost letting him believe Roman was walking next to him.

He just really didn’t want to face this alone. Hell, he’d even take Dennis, and the two of them had always been tense. But as he drew closer and felt his father’s power grow, he decided that he would take anything, tension be damned. It seemed like he was drawn to the epicenter of the fear, which he really didn’t want to think about, but at least he wasn’t searching blindly. After a few minutes of following the aura, Virgil realized where he was headed. Of course, they would. Hiding out at Zeus’s fist was a whole new level of irony; Virgil might even call it a mockery. Not for nothing, but he knew the area. That was something.

As he approached, the brush and trees around him began to thin out until the treeline ended altogether for one of the few landmarks in these gods forsaken woods. Well, he supposed they weren’t gods forsaken anymore. He ducked behind one of the thick bushes, shushing the confused dryad. She huffed in annoyance but thankfully disappeared when she saw what he was looking at.

In the middle of the clearing was the infamous pile of boulders the campers referred to as Zeus’s fist. You could only see the fist at a certain angle though, and Virgil wasn’t there. Remus was prancing around as much as he could on top of the boulders, kicking his leg out with each step. Virgil couldn’t see it clearly through the branches, but Remus was clutching something in his hand that Virgil thought maybe looked like some kind of spellbook. He could even guess it was the same one the son of Eris had used to fucking brainwash Dennis.

Speaking of Eris, he assumed that the woman leaning against the boulders with her arms crossed was the goddess herself. She had long hair falling down her back, all the way to the backs of her knees, and it was so dark that it almost looked purple. She was definitely tall, at least half a foot taller than Virgil, and he was 6’3”. But she was a goddess, so he didn’t know what he was expecting. She had a headdress composed of black spikes, and she was wearing a black and purple…garment that was some sort of combination of a toga and a dress. ((It's a long, one shoulder drape dress, Virgil is just stupid)).

The other person he recognized immediately as his father. He'd appeared to Virgil before, years ago, a little while after Virgil got claimed. Phobos could obviously appear however he wanted, but he usually decided to look like a teenager or young, which was kinda weird for Virgil considering his father looked barely older than him. He knew that Phobos's eyes were fiery and red and looking into his eyes could induce fear, but he was wearing sunglasses over them. Other than that he had a red bandana and leather jacket, with a white t-shirt, ratty jeans, and combat boots. Considering Remus's black jeans, red and green hair, and bright orange camp shirt, they were certainly an eclectic bunch.

"Why are we waiting," Phobos whined, turning to face Eris. "Let's just do the spell now."

"Because," Eris said, her patience so incredibly fake it was almost condescending like she was placating a small child. "Remus doesn't have the power to pull off the spell on his own, and the two of us can't cast it because you need mortal blood. So he needs more power. We need to wait until the sun is in the right position so we can transfer our power to him. Unless you have a random demigod I can drain it out off with that spell I cast earlier."

"Well my son is hiding in the bushes," Phobos shrugged nonchalantly but Virgil's went wide. Oh shit. He'd completely forgotten! Phobos could sense fear, and Virgil's ability to project it meant he always had a bit of an aura. If he got close then his father could literally sense him. "Come on out, Virgil."

Shit shit shit shit shit. He couldn't think of any other way out of this, and there was no point in angering the immortal beings any more than he was going to soon. He slowly walked out into the clearing, Roman's sword in a death grip as his eyes flitted to each of the people around him. Remus jumped down from the boulder pile and skipped over to Virgil.

"Well it is about time you got here," Remus scoffed. Gods, Virgil had not missed his annoying voice at all. "It's rude to keep people waiting."

"You were waiting for me?" Virgil asked before he could stop himself.

"Well yeah." Remus rolled his eyes. "We knew you'd end up coming alone if we played our cards right, and we needed another half-blood. For a while there though, we thought you weren't going to show! But now you're here and we can get this show on the road!"

"Excuse me?" Virgil pushed out through a clenched jaw. Remus didn't really think Virgil was going to help them, did he?

"Come on kiddo," Phobos said. Virgil got the distinct feeling he was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Just let Eris transfer your power to Remus."

"I am not going to help you." Virgil shook his head. Remus took a step closer, so Virgil could touch him if he reached out and it took everything in Virgil to not take a step back.

"Listen here kiddo," Phobos said and began to come towards Virgil. "I get you're in your rebellion phase and I look pretty young, but I am still your father."

"No, you're not," Virgil countered. "You might have contributed to my existence and be the reason I have these powers, but you have NEVER been my father. I stopped being your son a long time ago. And I will not help you!"

Virgil lunged forward and grabbed Remus's head, forcing the boy to look him in the eyes. He didn't like to use this power because in his opinion it was cruel and unnecessary, but he had no such reservations for Remus after everything he'd done. He focused his power and narrowed in on the dark corners of Remus's mind where his pain and fears lied. He grabbed hold of the darkest, most intense feeling of fear he could find and dragged it to the forefront of Remus's mind, forcing him to vividly and realistically experience his absolute worst fear. He drew it out as long as he could before he felt a hand seize his upper arm and force him off of Remus.

Once Virgil regained his bearings he saw Eris bearing furiously down at him. She felt her wicked nails cutting into his flesh and he hissed in pain. He hit her across the face with his shield as hard as he could and she stumbled back. Remus was on the ground on his hands and knees, breathing heavily and seemingly completely unaware of his surroundings. Virgil spotted the spellbook on the ground next to Remus and lunged for it. Suddenly his father was between him and the book, charging at Virgil with his sword drawn.

Virgil raised his shield and the sword glanced off the black metal harmlessly, making Phobos growl low in his throat. Phobos was fast, and Virgil didn't have time to react before there was a hand wrapped around his throat and hoisting him into the air.

"I'm getting real sick of that shield," Phobos declared. He grabbed Virgil's shield with his free hand and yanked it off his arm before throwing it clear across the clearing. This was not going well for him.

Virgil raised his sword but Phobos grabbed that arm too and held it in place. Virgil scrabbled at the hand slowly squeezing tighter and tighter around his neck but couldn't escape the hold with one hand. Except he had more to work with. He managed to angle the sword and prayed that it was right. He watched his father quirk his head in confusion as he heard the prayer and Virgil smirked. With a though, suddenly the sword in Virgil's hand was Roman's signature double-bladed sword, with one of the blades in Phobos's shoulder.

The god cried out in pain and dropped Virgil, who dropped to his knees and instinctively reached up to his own throat. He drew in deep, gasping breaths to try to regain the air he'd lost. The black spots slowly disappeared from his vision as he watched Phobos back away and clutch his shoulder, golden ichor spilling from the wound. He couldn't help feeling satisfaction at that. Virgil forced himself back to his feet and saw Remus doing the same a bit further away. He had to get that spellbook and destroy it. He shifted his center of gravity to accommodate for the new balance of the sword and stared down Phobos, who was still in his way.

The two engaged in battle again, the ringing of their swords clashing echoing across the clearing. Phobos thrust his sword forward and Virgil dodged to the side, but Phobos was ready for that. He spun around, using the momentum to swing his sword down at Virgil's head, which he just barely managed to block with the middle of the sword. Phobos kept pressing down and Virgil found his arms trembling, not a match for Phobos's godly strength. Time to get creative again. Virgil shifted his feet and transformed the sword again, this time splitting into two separate swords, which left the air under Phobos's sword empty. Virgil swiftly sidestepped the blade as he changed his, so Phobos stumbled past him. He kicked his back while he was still off-balance, sending him to the ground.

"Come on dad, don't be stupid," Virgil chided him. "Just stay down and let me take care of this!"

Virgil was so focused on his father that he had completely forgotten about Eris. She grabbed his face from behind and he cried out as her own powers forced their way into him. He closed his eyes and stumbled back, but Eris went with him. He could feel himself growing weak like his power or energy was being drained from him.

"Remus do it now!" Virgil heard Eris scream. Oh fuck, she wasn't draining his power, she was transferring it to Remus so he could perform whatever doomsday spell he was planning. Shit!

"Aperire portae ad inferna," Remus began to chant. "Uti in amatum in quantum per ostium. minuo mortale hoc mundo ad tartarus!"

Virgil flipped his swords around in his hands and jabbed them backward, slicing open Eris's thighs. Her grip faltered and he elbowed her in the face to get her to completely let go before dashing a few steps away from her. He'd escaped her hold, but it was too late. Remus had finished his spell. The spell was in Latin, not Greek, so Virgil had no clue what Remus had just done, and he didn't like that at all. He fell into a defensive position and braced himself for whatever was about to go down. But then a moment passed and nothing had happened. For just a second, Virgil wondered if the spell hadn't worked. Then the ground started to shake.

[mathewmurdocks]

Tag Game: Dig a Little Deeper

tagged by @impractical-matters​ 🥰

do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen? black pen

would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? this is hard. i really like both. they have significantly different feels but i love both of them.

if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? god, i could list a shit ton

do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? sweeeeeet teaaaaaa

what was your favorite book as a child? because of winn-dixie

do you prefer baths or showers? showers

if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? bro, idfk. i wanted to be a mermaid forever, but maybe like a sorcerer or some shit idk.

paper or electronic books? certain books need to be paper, but electronic is more convenient. 

what is your favorite item of clothing? sweatshirt

do you like your name? yeah, its fine lol would you like to change it? i used to when i was younger but its just a name i guess. i wouldn’t even know what to change it to.

who is a mentor to you? idk, i’ve had people help me in my life but never one person over a long period of time. can i say myself? idk if that makes sense but it’s my answer.

would you like to be famous? yes and no. i always wanted to be an actor and/or writer but never the celebrity side of it. just known so that my work is known and appreciated.

are you a restless sleeper? Y E S. i have stories...insane ones. who the fuck moves the whole ass bed or punches the wall in their sleep? ME wtf

do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? i can be, but it’s not a constant state

which element best represents you? sometimes i’m water and sometimes i’m fire which is actually pretty accurate considering the walking paradox i am

who do you want to be closer to? plenty of people. well, i guess everyone cause im not entirely close with anyone. no one really knows me or wants to know me. might be my fault, might not. idk

do you miss someone at the moment? my grandparents and i always have this nagging feeling like im missing someone but i don’t know who they are.

tell us about an early childhood memory. pretending to fall asleep on a car ride home so my dad would carry me inside and to my bed while holding onto my special blanket with my name on it.

what is the strangest thing you have eaten?  idfk. maybe sand or dirt? im a pretty picky eater so i don’t try a lot of things.

what are you most thankful for? that i have things others don’t and may never get. i have food, clothes, a home, and other luxuries some people can’t afford.

do you like spicy food? N O

have you ever met someone famous? yeah, but nobody too famous. i met a bunch of rock/screamo bands (bless the fall, bmth, mayday parade, we the kings, 3OH!3, we came as romans, of mice and men, crown the empire, the devil wears prada-a couple of the band memebers actually took me to their merch tent and gave me water when i almost passed out from a heat stroke-, pierce the veil, echosmith, a couple others but i can’t recall), some popular christian artists, luke benward, ezra miller, and shailene woodley. i feel like i’ve met others but can’t think of them 🤷🏻‍♀️

do you keep a diary or journal? i used to. i had accumulated like 100 over the years and i still have some of them. i don’t write in one anymore, but sometimes if i’ll vent by writing a note in my phone or something just so i can release somehow.

do you prefer to use pen or pencil? pen

what is your star sign? aquaruis 

do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? crunchy

what would you want your legacy to be? that i was a good person who tried and cared

do you like reading? yes, but its really hard with my adhd

how do you show someone you love them? acts. i do things for them by going above and beyond.

do you like ice in your drinks? only at restaurants or fountain drinks

what are you afraid of? being alone and unwanted

what is your favorite scent? idk, but i don’t like strong or floral scents. anything calm and natural

do you address older people by their name or surname? depends on who they are. the older i get the less i do it i think

if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? i would live simply and comfortably. nothing too extravagant. i mean, there are some things i would go all out on, like a car but having a home thats nice and big enough for me, not like a mansion or anything. i’d love to travel too, but not site see but to live in a place for like a year or two and experience it.

do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? ocean

what would you do if you found $50 in the ground? unless i knew or saw who dropped it, just pocket it cause what else are you gonna do?

have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? yes and yes

what is one thing you would want to teach your children? to be accepting and open minded.

if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? i already have some and want a bunch more

what can you hear now? music from my headphone in my left ear and my mom typing on her computer in my right ear

where do you feel the safest? in my room with music in my headphones when its dark

what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? my depression, anxiety, paranoia, and dependency on others.

if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? roman empire

what is your most used emoji? 😂

describe yourself using one word. paradox

what do you regret the most? i don’t know if i really have any significant regrets. anything worth regretting would change who i am and i like who i am for the most part.

last movie you saw? spenser confidential

last tv show you watched? hunters. wait, thats a lie. the librarians but im rewatching it with my mom

invent a word and its meaning. uhm, idk. i’ve done this before but i can’t remember any of them.

 if you wanna do this feel free! 

[spinningsidetable]

The Odd Couple: 1/?

Pairing: Octavian/Leo (leotavian)

Genre/Warnings: Canon Compliant to a Point, Canon Parallel AU, Octavian Lives, Soulbond, Soulmates, Some Depictions of Violence and Injury

Rating: Teen and Up

Leo could open his eyes before he could breathe.

His lungs were still stitching themselves back together, air couldn't push its way inside yet. Leo could see the sky around him, he could see his flesh rebuilding itself; scars vanished as new skin replaced the burnt remains of the old. Finally, air rushed in and he could breathe again. Panic had nearly set in, feeling like it was divine punishment for all of his misdeeds to die so soon after living again. Part of him thought he likely deserved it. As soon as Leo was well and able he turned to look at his surroundings better. Leo had no idea where he was, the sky gave no hints, all he managed to figure out was he was on the back of Festus. Then another gasp of air took him by surprise, and Leo all but spun in place to look behind him. There, a slumped over frame of someone else. Leo was pretty sure his vocal chords had rebuilt themselves at that point, but he couldn’t speak. Who the hell? The frame lurched up, head tipping backwards; Leo watched in morbid fascination as skin and hair recovered muscle and bone. The person blinked, blinked pale eyes at Leo. And then promptly punched Leo in the nose. Leo jerked backwards with a loud yelp, bringing his hands up to hold at his face. Admittedly, Leo’d been punched in the face much harder, but even a toddler hitting you in the nose still hurt. “You scum!” The other figure yelped out, looking at Leo like he was the source of all problems. Actually, he might have been. Leo recognized this guy, the pissy weird Roman. He was still toting purple robes and armor, but they were tattered and burnt. “...You!” Leo said, pointing a finger. “You’re…that guy! Uh…” “Octavian!” The blond yelled. “My name is Octavian, and you attacked my city! You attack us, and then you kidnap me?!” “Okay, calm down Draco Malfoy,” Leo glared. It was a bit of an insult to the fictional character. “I didn’t kidnap anybody, okay? I’m as shocked to see you here as you are me. Actually, correction, I’m more surprised, I literally just died and came back to life. I was kind of hoping the first people I’d see were my friends or a pretty girl. Not…this.” Leo waved a hand at Octavian’s stupid face which was twisted in anger and confusion. “Then what happened? Huh? Answer me, Graecus!” Octavian was ordering Leo around like he was…well, a rich white boy with a sense of entitlement, so, yeah no, that made sense. “I,” Leo started slowly with extra exaggeration. “I, was in the process of committing non-suicide to blow the earth lady back to the dirt she came from. Everything I did was part of the plan. You here, are not.” Octavian’s expression dripped condescension. “The dirt isn’t where she came from, she is the earth, you plebeian.” “Oh my God,” Leo said flatly. “That is so not the issue right now, like... what the fuck, why are you on my dragon?” It seemed Octavian hadn’t taken the time to notice that yet, and looked down, and immediately went white…whiter in the face. Leo wasn’t certain if he just realized he had been recently blown to smithereens or the fact they were thousands of feet in the air. “I-…I was about to fire an onager at the Earth Mother and you…and,” his face twisted in confusion. “I think I got caught up in it somehow…” Leo had very little sympathy at this point. Well, less so. Which seemed hard to do. “So, let me get this straight, you tried to legitimately murder me, and... accidentally fucked yourself over?” “You declared war on Rome,” Octavian said like it explained everything, excused everything. “I was protecting my people, from you, from the Earth Mother. I feel no guilt in my actions.” “Bullshit, you were protecting your reputation - oh gods, it feels good to cuss, I’ve been holding this in since Hazel’s whole 1940s thing.” Leo paused in the middle speaking as realization kicked in. Admittedly, not the best time for his ADHD to rear back up. Octavian didn’t look amused. But, then again, Leo was pretty sure Octavian was unable to be amused. Except by suffering. “Swearing is the first resort of the last to succeed.” “Okay, I’m done with you, I have no idea why you’re here, I’m guessing the Physicians Cure did double duty somehow, so I’m just going to drop you on the first piece of land I see-“ Leo was cut off but two arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him backwards in his seat until he was arching off in pain. “You will do nothing of the sort, or I will personally hold you here until the air leaves your…your...” The grip began to slip, and Leo decided it was time for payback and lit himself on fire. Or, tried to.  Nothing happened. The arms went limp regardless. “What the fuck?” Leo coughed and rubbed at his throat, but Octavian wasn’t looking at him, but down at his hands. “I couldn’t do it…” Octavian stared down at his palms like they betrayed him. “What is wrong with me? I couldn’t hold you…” Leo stared at him for a minute, absentmindedly rubbing at his neck, before snapping out of his surprise and reaching over to smack the man in the side of the head. Octavian seemed to snap out of it, and grabbed Leo’s hand before he could do it again. And then The Thing happened. An electric current, or that’s what it sort of felt like, ran down Leo’s spine; Octavian seemed to be much the same way, because they pulled back from one another at the same time. That was weird, Leo thought with a frown, but chose to ignore it. He was just dead 5 minutes ago, he’d dealt with weirder. The astrolabe on Festus began to whir, due to Leo’s modifications of course (they’re not known for moving on their own) and Leo turned away from the towhead to check. They were over Ogygia, Leo realized with some glee. Then it hit him that he’d have to introduce Calypso to Octavian and it just got really strange in his brain. “We’re going down,” Leo said, adjusting himself in his seat. “If you strangle me again, I’ll burn your ass.” Even if he couldn’t, Leo was all about finding ways in the impossible. “Going down?” Octavian looked around nervously, but like he was pretending not to be. “This piece of junk can’t hold us-“ Leo held up a hand on fire. “Do not. Ever. Call him a piece of junk.” Octavian looked at him like he was sizing him up, “or what, scum?” “Or I remove yours,” Leo said smoothly, and that got the reaction he wanted. “Good boy.” Octavian turned red, and opened his mouth to likely yell or probably throw racial slurs, Leo had no idea, but Octavian seemed the type to vote red. “Festus, not you, you’re an asshole. Festus is a good boy. Come on, buddy, let’s go get her.” “Get who?” Octavian hissed, looking around like a woman was just randomly floating around. “What monsters have you been cohabiting with?” “Calypso,” Leo said, “my girlfriend. I think. Probably?” “Not the…actual Calypso, surely?” Octavian looked horrified by the very concept. “Who else?” Leo rolled his eyes. “She’s great, you’ll hate her. Which makes her great.”

“Who el- I’m not the actual Octavian! It isn’t a strange question!” “…There was an actual Octavian? Two people chose a name that stupid for a baby?” “Gaius Octavianus, later known as Augustus, ushered in the Pax Romana, expanded his empire-“ Leo realized his mistake, as Octavian continued talking until they reached the soils of Ogygia, no matter how many times Leo told him to shut up in every language he knew. Calypso was waiting on the shore as they touched down, and opened her mouth to say something to Leo, before noticing Octavian sliding off of Festus. “Who is this?” “Sea Witch, I am Octavian of New Rome, Augur, Centurion.” Octavian introduced himself, but did not endear himself, as her eyes narrowed slowly. “If you attempt to sing your bewitching tunes, seductress, I will be forced to send you back to the pits of Tartarus.” Calypso looked accusingly at Leo who shrugged helplessly at her. “Not part of my plan. I hate him too, trust me. He’s tried to kill me like, what?” Leo looked back at Octavian who looked like he sincerely considered the question. “At least 5 times,” Octavian nodded to himself. “Yes, roughly 5, though the majority were one long sustained effort that you avoided. Leo gestured at Octavian, looking at Calypso, while making a few rude hand gestures towards the Roman. “So, I say we ditch him and go?” But Calypso was looking at Leo oddly, and then back to Octavian. There was a frown on her face, and a deeply sad one in her eyes. “Uh...Caly? Babe? Sunshine?” Leo stepped closer, and reached his hand out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled away.

“…Calypso?” “I see, well, it figures…The same thing always happens…” Calypso crossed her arms and took a few steps backwards. She was closing herself off, Leo didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that. Leo looked at her packed gear behind her, and took a step towards it. “Don’t,” Calypso warned, her eyes closed like she was in pain. “I’m not coming with you.” Leo stared helplessly, blinking hard. “W-what are you talking about? I…Come on, look we…don’t need to date, we never have to do anything like that, but-“ “Leo, I appreciate that, I really do. I care about you, truly. But…,” The girl turned away, tear streaks began to run down her face. “I’m sorry. Please leave.”

Leo felt nearly hysterical, looking between her, and Octavian who seemed more disgusted than confused. “I don’t understand, I just want to help, did I do something wrong-“ “Your fate is not mine, Leo. It’s tied to another.” Calypso’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I understand I can leave with you, right this moment. I do, but…after so long… I want someone to come for me whose fate is my own. I know you don’t understand, but maybe someday you will. Please.” Leo’s shoulders sagged, but as he looked at her he realized he couldn’t change her mind. It was like Echo all over again, but worse. He didn’t want her to be trapped here any longer. He didn’t care if she never loved him, Leo just didn’t want her to have to be alone. “I’ll make sure the Gods free you,” Leo said finally, voice thick with emotion. “If you won’t come with me, I’ll make sure you can leave when you want to. I won’t forget you. I will never forget you, Calypso, I swear on that.” Calypso smiled, tears in her eyes, taking a few steps closer to him to wrap her arms around his frame, kissing him on the cheek. “Go live your life, Leo. We’ll meet again, I’m sure. Goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye, sunshine.” Leo whispered against her hair, and kissed the side of her head. “For now.” It was a promise.

When they left, he flew away without looking back. Octavian was quiet, for all of about 10 minutes. “You dated a monster?” Octavian’s voice was full of judgement, and Leo wasn’t having it right now. Leo could keep a lot of things bottled up, but just hearing Octavian speak was like nails on a chalkboard. So, he turned around and grabbed the blond by the shirt, pulling him forward to headbutt the Centurion in his stupid face. But, stopped short, as Leo’s body stopped moving against his will and he was left with his face just inches from Octavian’s who looked similarly shocked and disturbed. Leo realized Octavian had raised his own hands to push Leo away, but were just resting on Leo’s shoulders. Leo snapped back, the extent of the problem beginning to dawn in horror. “What the…why couldn’t I hit you?”

“Same reason I couldn’t hurt you, I’m guessing.” Octavian muttered. “Something strange is happening. “ “So we….can’t hurt each other?” Leo changed his mind drastically, because at the moment, he was actually thrilled for a new problem for his brain to focus on. It saved him from having to think about Calypso.

“I hit you in the nose, and you hit me back” Octavian said curiously. “So it appears some is fine.” Leo frowned, tapping against the bronze back of Festus in thought. “Was it though? Or was it surprise and shock more than an actual wish to injure? Try hitting me again.” Octavian looked baffled but pleased with the request. “You’re asking me to punch you?” It was like Christmas for creepy faced Romans, from the tone in his voice. Leo rolled his eyes. “Just do it already, dillweed.”

Octavian pulled his fist back for the wind up, and threw it forward in what would have likely broken his nose if it had actually made contact. But, it didn’t. Octavian’s fist stopped a few inches from Leo’s face. Octavian glared at his own hand, and tried again, and again, until it just looked sad and silly. “Okay, stop hitting the sky, big Z might take offense.” Leo sighed. Octavian tried again, and then muttered something about it being J not Z, but Leo ignored him. “It's the Physicians Cure. That’s the only reasonable explanation. “ Leo said his thought process out loud, pulling a small journal out of his belt and began to write down what they were noticing. “The what? You mentioned it before, what is it?” Octavian asked with clear annoyance in his voice as he leaned over Leo’s shoulder to see what he was writing. “Don’t call me that.” “Then don’t act like one,” Leo shot back and kept writing. “The Physicians Cure was what brought me, and I’m assuming you, back to life. It should have only been enough for one singular life, and yet here we are. My guess is something relating to that is the reason we can’t purposely injure one another.” Octavian scoffed at the thought. “How did someone like you get your hands on something like that? The Gods would never truly smile on a Graecus-“ “I made a bargain with a few, including Apollo, so, you know. Shut up.” Leo mumbled, still making notes, and not even glancing at the blond behind him. Octavian leaned back, and crossed his arms. He was used to people in New Rome expressing dislike and disrespect towards him, but at the very least they feared him in some manner. Leo Valdez did not fear, respect, or seemingly care about his existence in general; never even bothering to learn his name before he fired on his city. Octavian had been on the Argo when Leo attacked, appraising the vehicle and assessing the likelihood for warfare. Leo Valdez paid him little regard, acting like Octavian was more a piece of gum on his shoe than well known Centurion who had served Camp Jupiter for 7 years. All Octavian ever wanted was to raise New Rome to true glory, but few saw his vision. He had almost been thankful to the Greeks, a war was a good way to inspire people, but then that seemingly backfired. “We have to cross the ocean,” Leo said after a moment of calculating. It wasn’t just their physical situation he was thinking about, it was their location. They had left the space around Ogygia, but their place in the world was still a mystery until now. They were about where Leo had shown up before in Greece, maybe Festus went there on purpose. “What?” Octavian frowned, his own train of thought being cut off. “What ocean?” “The ocean is a big body of sea water, the blue one with all the fish, ever heard of it?” Leo sighed, grabbing up the astrolabe and turning his back to Octavian. Octavian wished more than ever he could spear him through. “Mediterranean, then we cross the Atlantic.” Leo announced, before beginning to chew on the tip of a pen Octavian had no idea where came from. “But, I think we might want to avoid the Atlantic as much as possible. It was not super chill last time we went over it, and there were more people and better provisions. I need to reroute our course.” “So we go north, or go south?” Octavian asked after a moment to think about the situation, and Leo looked at him with a bit of surprise. “Well, there are only two reasonable paths if we’re currently in the Mediterranean. We go north, and cross the UK and Greenland, and cross into the Northwestern Passage from there before heading south towards New York.” Octavian held up two fingers. “Or, alternatively, we cross into Africa and head south towards the West Coast, before crossing the closest point towards Brazil, before heading north through the Caribbean.” Leo continued to stare at blankly. “What?” Octavian seemed offended, but then again he always did. “I’ve already graduated from University with honors. You think me stupid?” “You said it, not me.” Leo said, reappraising Octavian. Sure, he hated him, but Leo could use brains right now. “You’re right though. I would figure Africa is the safest bet. You’d probably not survive the northern temperatures this time of year. I might be able to make my own warmth, but you can't. Of course, heading east and crossing the Pacific is a possibility, but not a good one. We have no idea what kind of monsters are over there, not to mention a much much longer flight across open ocean.” Octavian wasn’t entirely sure how to take that. He wasn’t really expecting the other boy to think of his general well being. He certainly didn’t return the favor. If Octavian could shove him from the dragon and commandeer it, he would in a heartbeat. “Plus,” Leo mumbled. “I am…sort of not on good terms with a very mean snow lady and her brothers in Canada. Probably not the best place to cross.” Octavian nearly felt a bit disappointed, though not surprised. It was good information however, any enemy of Valdez was a friend of Octavian. “Fine, a journey West then. How long will this take, anyway? Not too dreadfully long, I’d hope.” Leo burst out laughing, and just shook his head without answering.  “Oh my gods…” “I’ll take that as 'significantly longer',” Octavian sighed. “I was eager to get away from you, can you blame me?” Leo snorted, but didn’t seem to disagree. “You’re not the first, no, so the sensation has worn off by now.” Leo readjusted himself, cracking his knuckles. ”Better buckle up. You should have been able to tell our speed by now, honor student, we’ll probably take at least a week, and that is a conservative guess. Festus is fast, but not airliner fast, which means if we don’t just go across the Sahara, it’ll take most of the day to reach Morocco. Plus, I’d recommend taking a pitstop for a day before actually crossing the Atlantic, to see if we can find anything usable. We’ll need to strap ourselves in, because crossing is going to take close to 24 hours, and sleep is going to not be an option. And, that’s just the general shit, I’m not including everything else that will without a doubt happen.”

“Everything else?” Octavian was honestly confused by the statement, and Leo looked over his shoulder and grinned evilly. “Not been out of the country, huh? You’re not in San Fran anymore, bub, there be monsters here like you’ve never seen.”

And there were. They’d spent a number of relatively quiet hours flying to reach land, happily uninterrupted hours, but as soon as they reached the port of Alexandria in Egypt, everything went to hell in a hand-basket. They found themselves clinging onto the dragon while making some rather intricate moves to dodge some weird sphinx like monstrosity that attacked them. It had multiple wings, multiple faces, and a good portion of it was lion. “Curses!” Octavian hissed. “I don’t have a weapon, give me a weapon!” “I thought you didn’t curse?” Leo laughed, and tossed a fireball at the thing, but it didn’t do much. “I don’t think I trust you that much. You have tried to kill me, what was it, you said 5 times?” “Yes, but I can’t now!” Octavian yelled in frustration. “Just give me something! Why does it look more Babylonian than Egyptian, it makes no sense!” Leo handed him a letter opener. If Octavian was the one with fire powers, Leo’s head would have likely gone up in flames with the strength of his glare. He threw it anyway, and it pierced the head of the monster, which fell to pieces of sand. Leo’s jaw dropped, and Octavian preened. “Shit, that was pretty cool. You throw knives?” Octavian nodded proudly, but felt a weird sensation as he watched Leo’s face turn into a smile. Embarrassment? No, surely not. “Okay, still hate you, but cool. I’m pretty sure Will can’t do that.” “Will?” Octavian frowned. “Who is that? Another jilted lover?” Leo’s face immediately turned to displeasure. “I’m 15 dude, I don’t have any lovers...jilted or otherwise. Will is one of the sons of Apollo, so, like…your half brother. But, Greek. So, like you, but infinitely better and less of a douche.” “Except he can’t throw knives?” Octavian called back with a smirk, and Leo quirked a brow in amusement or something else. “He’s a healer. I’ll take someone who helps people over one who destroys any day of the week, man.” “Your powers are the very epitome of destructive,” Octavian reminded him, and Leo looked away without responding. “I’m going to land, I need to repair Festus.” Leo sighed, patting on Festus and they began to descend into the outskirts of the busy African city. “No pithy comment?” Octavian said after they landed, and Leo shot him a look. “No snark? No general idiocy your people are so fond of?” “Wow,” Leo shook his head with a laugh, “if you say, ‘your people’ again…” “You’ll what?” Octavian challenged, stepping forward to cross the distance between them. They were both slim, but Octavian was older and taller by quite a bit. He stared down at Leo. “What will you do? You’re nothing.” A small breathy noise startled Octavian, who jerked back as Leo looked down at the ground and wiped at his face. “Oh, by the gods, are you crying?” Octavian stuttered out, horrified. He was not good with crying. “I…I didn’t, I mean...I-“ Leo looked up with a grin and completely tearless eyes, “gotcha.” Octavian opened and closed his mouth, and Leo patted him on the shoulder. “Word of advice? Anything you say to me? I’ve heard it already five times over, probably from my own family. That crying schtick? A trick I learned… at roughly age 9 to trick the nice foster families into giving me shit I wanted. And, my best friend is a daughter of Aphrodite, Venus, whatever. I’ve learned from the best.” Leo shoved a finger into Octavian’s chest, ignoring their size difference completely. “I may be nothing, but guess what? We’re both nothing.” Leo looked him straight in the eyes.  “And, my guess? That bothers you a hell of a lot more than it bothers me.” Octavian said nothing as Leo stepped around him and moved to start fixing Festus. Didn’t say a word until night had fallen. But, then it was dark out, and Octavian realized he was hungry.  Leo was still working on the bronze dragon, and hadn’t stopped. The dragon, with the stupidest name he’d ever heard, watched Octavian with some suspicion. Probably well warranted by now, having threatened his owner repeatedly.

“Do you have money?” Octavian fumbled about before just hitting himself and asking. Leo paused and looked up. “Why?”

“I want to go into town and get food and provisions, if you were intelligent, you would have realized that by now, but I suppose your people aren’t-“ Leo stood up and glared him down. “See, the thing that bugs me when you say that is I have no idea if you mean Greek demigods or if you mean Mexicans. But, knowing you, it’s probably both.”

Octavian tipped his chin up to sneer down at the shorter boy. “You think me so petty? You realize I served under Reyna, do you not?” “Yes,” Leo said without a moment of thinking about it. “You tried to overthrow her too, remember?” “I’m not racist,” Octavian ignored everything Leo said. It was true, after all. “I just think-“ “Nope,” Leo shook his head. “Nope, nuh uh, not happening, shut up and don’t finish that thought process. I’ll make you food, just stop talking.” Octavian paused, and glared silently, his feathers well ruffled by now. Leo sighed in relief, before sitting down on the sands, and pulling random items out of his belt. They surely couldn’t have all fit, so it was most likely enchanted. “I’m not racist,” Octavian said after a moment, and Leo looked at him like he was above to shove a fork through his eye, or would if he was able.  “The man my mother married was a legacy of Mars, from Senegal. My half siblings are mixed race. You may think you know me, but you don’t.” “That doesn’t mean you’re not racist,” Leo said, chin in his hand, appraising Octavian. “But, I’m tired of arguing. What do you want to eat? Any food allergies? I’m curious if I can poison you.” “No,” Octavian rolled his eyes, and Leo snickered. “That,” Leo pointed. “Is the first time I’ve ever seen you act like an actual teenager.” “…I’m 18, I am an adult.” He’d waited long for the day, after all. To finally be respected as an adult, instead of a child. “No, you’re one cat away from being a movie villain.” Leo crossed his legs. “Maybe, if you were an actual teenager, you’d be less obsessed with glory and honor and all that and learn to have fun for once. 18 going on 68, more like.” “I have fun, and I want…,” Octavian nodded to himself in thought. “Yes, I’d like tacos. They’re a fun food, yes?” “Tacos? Man, you’re practically Latino now. l was so very wrong about you, Herr Octavian!” Octavian narrowed his eyes, “you realize that just means Mister or sir, right?” “I actually had no idea, I just wanted to imply you’re a Nazi.” Leo said happily. “Calm your tuts, I’ll make something good.” “It’s no surprise,” Octavian sniffed derisively, dusting away some sand from his tattered robes. “I’d imagine your education doesn’t go above elementary school.” “You’d be correct,” Leo smiled, he was visibly less amused and more visibly perturbed. “That’s what happens when you’re orphaned.” He started to mix ingredients in a bowl that Octavian was also not sure where came from. It didn’t seem like it could have been pulled from anywhere. The Greek held the bowl, with his hand lit in flames to cook it. When it was done, Leo handed over a steaming plate. It smelled good.

“I made paella. You good?” Octavian nodded, assuming he was asking if Octavian found the meal choice acceptable, and took a bite. It was very good. “It’s sad,” Octavian said after he was finished eating, and Leo looked at him tiredly as he was eating. “You Greeks, you have no support for one another.” “Remind me to spit in your food next time,” Leo looked exhausted, and put down the food he was eating. “It seems to me that the Romans are the ones who don’t give a shit the second someone starts thinking for themselves.” “You have no long term support systems for demigods,” Octavian ignored Leo, waving a finger as though he was scolding a child. “You have no businesses, no real communities that I could see. You’re a summer camp, no more, no less. What do you do for the children that have been orphaned?” “I don’t know, wasn’t at camp very long, ask Percy.” Leo looked away, thinking. “Why do you care?” “You’re, as much as I hate to admit this, a better chef than I was expecting, especially with no real cooking instruments. In New Rome, we would support these talents. Maybe, you could open a restaurant, or shop of some nature. But, what will you there, once you’re older? I noticed there were no demigods over the age of 25 that I could see. Do you all die? Pretend to be human, and live a constantly thre-“ “I don’t know!” Leo cut him off, looking quite angry. “I have no idea, okay? I wasn’t expecting to live this long.” “That’s the problem,” Octavian didn’t stop his lecture, standing up to pace. “None of you have any foresight. You’re hotheaded, idiotic, disrespectful, chaotic-” “I’m going to bed,” Leo stood up abruptly and walked around to the other side of Festus. Octavian rolled his eyes before he could catch himself. “Think about my suggestions,” Octavian called over before laying back on the warm sands himself, like he was doing Leo a favor.

“Get bit by an asp and go Cleopatra yourself, asshat.” Leo grumbled from his side, annoyance clear in his voice.

Octavian waited a moment, before speaking. “…It was actually an Egyptian Cobra, not the European Aspis. In fact, it was likely neither, but rather a respectable concoction of poisons. You should read more. It is a common, but still unacceptable mistake that uneducated individuals make. Building a library would be the first step-” Leo tossed a wrench at him, but it missed. Octavian was awoken in the early morning light by a foot prodding him in the stomach, it didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t a great way to wake up either. “You rude-“ “Save it, we need to get going. A storm is coming, and I really don’t want to get stuck with you any longer than possible.” Octavian stood up gingerly, and eyed Leo, who noticed and exhaled sharply. “What?” “I need to brush my teeth.” Leo threw him a small bottle of mouth wash and a tooth brush, and while Octavian was mildly disgusted, it was better than nothing. He’d never had a cavity before, his teeth were in his opinion, flawless. He didn’t want to ruin that now.

They set off once again, but could see clouds in the distance. They were dark reds and beige and gray, with bright flashes of gold. “Beautiful,” Octavian breathed out, as the wind began whipping. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” “Yeah, well, it shouldn’t be there,” Leo eyed the same clouds with some trepidation. He hadn’t seen any weather forecasts in town that mentioned anything like it. “Another monster?” Octavian asked, and Leo tilted his head and bit a worrying lip. “I honestly don’t know…but, something tells me it isn’t that simple.” They flew until night fall, but managed to reach Morocco. The storm they saw had vanished once they left Egypt, which made Leo all the more paranoid. He hadn’t stopped fidgeting and tapping the entire way, and it was driving Octavian up the metaphorical wall. “Do you think there are others?” Leo asked in a rare moment of openness, looking like an actual uncertain 15 year old, in a way that bothered Octavian for some reason. “Other what?” “Gods,” Leo answered. “We have…Greeks, Romans…but, are there more than us?” “Egyptians, you mean?” Octavian was easily able to piece together the source of the boys discontent and pondered the question for a moment. “It’s plausible. There are Roman gods that are not versions of Greek. Greek, that have no dual Roman forms. If there are entirely separate deities in those situations, then it is likely that there are others.” Leo looked at him seriously for once, eyes searching his face, his posture. “Doesn’t that scare you?” “No,” Octavian answered honestly. “It doesn’t. Gods are not my concern; Rome is, my people are.” Leo shook his head and looked away, “aren’t we all?” “What?” Octavian asked, confused. This Graecus was more confounding than Jackson had been, who was simply like a fly that he wished to swat. “Demigods,” Leo said, looking back at him. “Don’t we have more in common than we have different? Aren’t we all your people then? Shouldn’t we support one another? Support systems, like you said. Communities.” “I-“ Octavian wasn’t sure how to reply. In fact, he was mostly taken back by the fact Leo had evidently given his suggestions some consideration the night before. Leo seemed to realize what Octavian was thinking, “you were right, maybe not how you meant, but ...it's true. As much as I really hate you.”

Octavian was very conflicted now. “We have no way to help each other, not really, not at Camp Half Blood. A satyr either gets us to camp when we’re young, or they don’t.” Leo swallowed hard, looking off into the distance.  “Before that, we’re just…with our human families, or alone. There are probably more of us alone, than not.” “Or in foster care,” Octavian added, remembering what Leo had said the previous day. The curly haired boy looked back at him and nodded. “In foster care, or worse,” Leo said. “It isn’t fair to us, or our parents, to be so vulnerable. How many mothers, fathers, siblings, have been killed…because we’re demigods? How many kids around the world?” “I don’t know,” Octavian answered after a moment. “I don’t know. If the numbers are similar world wide, then…thousands? Hundreds of thousands, even.”

“I don’t like that,” Leo said firmly. “You can go back to New Rome, deal with your people, but like I said. You’re right. I think we should have support. Or, in another generation, once me and all my friends are long dead, we’ll get another Luke.” “Luke?” Octavian echoed, he thought he had heard the name before but wasn’t sure where. “Luke Castellan, I wasn’t around then either, but he was the one who started the Titan war.” Leo explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “One guy thinks the Gods don’t care, that’s fine, but when 50, 100, hundreds do…” Octavian hadn’t really experienced this before, being told he was right while being told he was wrong, feeling vindicated and chastised. “R-Rome can,” Octavian started shakily, jutting out his chin once again in a shadow of his more prideful boasts. “We can…support others. But, under our ways.” Leo sighed, shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath. “That isn’t support, it’s oppression. Have you ever considered that you only think your ways are the right ways because you were born to it?”

“That sounded very Disney-esque of you,” Octavian deflected, and turned away. “I’m going to get firewood.” Leo looked at him wearily as he left. “You…don’t need to,” Leo said to himself, rolling his eyes and moving back to Festus. “I’m literally made of fire. Fucking asshole.” The next morning, they spent their time flying closer towards the Horn, until touching down outside a Senegalese market.  Octavian actually seemed rather happy for once with this particular pitstop. Like, actually happy and not sneery smirky “happy”. It was odd for Leo to witness. “You actually like your stepfather, don’t you?” Leo asked curiously, after Octavian got done speaking to a shop owner. “He’s preferable to my mother,” Octavian answered. “They’re both doctors, but his work actually matters.” “Is there a doctor who does meaningless work?” Leo asked, laughing in astonishment. “Like, what does that even mean?”

“It means she’s a psychologist,” Octavian said with a huff and crossed arms. “My stepfather is a neurosurgeon. He saves lives, she talks.” Leo stared at him like he saw something particularly disgusting on the floor of a mens bathroom, brows together and lips drawn back into a frown. “Doesn’t she, I don’t know, help people with mental health problems?” Octavian scoffed at the very concept, and Leo threw his arms up and walked away. Later, Octavian showed back up with bags full of herbs and spices and what looked like a headband. “Ladies appreciated my skill in speaking their language, and gave me gifts.” Leo rolled his eyes, and muttered something about them probably trying to get him to leave. “What are you doing?” “Trying to contact my friends,” Leo said, looking disappointingly into the fountain they had met back up at. The water gave nothing back to him. “I’ve been trying, but I haven’t been able to get through by any means. I even used a phone booth. Just static. Nothing in Alexandria, nothing in Morocco, nothing here either. “ Octavian walked over and sat next to him and looked into waters. “Let me try, I’m an augur. I have a more natural line to the Gods, than someone like yourself who spits in the face of our customs and rules.”

It didn’t work for him either. “I need a live chicken,” Octavian glared into the fountain. “And a ceremonial dagger.” “Nnnope,” Leo stood up, drying his hands off on his shirt. “No blood sacrifices, I put my foot down at blood sacrifices.” “You’re being unreasonable,” Octavian followed suit in standing, attempting to use his height as an advantage once again. “I guess that shouldn’t be surprising given your people-“Leo grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him hard into the fountain. It didn’t hurt, there was no injury or pain involves in the matter, but he was now soaking wet. So Octavian rushed up and grabbed the other boy and hauled him in with him. It was childish, but they ended up shoving and splashing and just generally making idiots of themselves until Octavian noticed Leo was laughing. That was not what Octavian had intended, he was planning on more of a near-drowning. Then, he noticed they were very close, and Leo’s palm was on his chest and his own hand was on Leo’s waist and everything froze. Octavian swallowed hard, and Leo met his eyes curiously. Big, dark brown eyes. “Hey, you boys,” someone called to them and Octavian thanked every deity he could name that he was saved before losing composure. “You need to stop,” a young woman said in English with an accent. “I’m apologize,” Octavian said back, in Wolof. She looked surprised, but smiled. “I don’t mind,” she said in her own language, “but some others here might not approve of two boys doing that together. I think young love is precious.” Octavian felt bile in his throat. He glanced over at Leo, who was brushing a curl of wet hair out of his eyes. The warm mid day light hit the water just right and reflected sunlight back onto Leo’s stomach and cheeks. His normally loose dirty off white tank top was wet and clinging and very nearly see through. The reflections of water looked like soft gold on his skin. “Oh no,” Octavian whispered, and got a weary look from his forced travel companion. He was 15, Octavian told himself. 15 and Greek. It was extremely unsightly, inappropriate, not to mention possibly illegal to harbor unfortunate emotional attachments to- “What? That stick almost fall out of your ass after having fun for 5 minutes?” Leo grinned toothily, and Octavian realized that he did in fact hate Leo Valdez. "No? What a shame."

[kariachi]

Okay, we’re gonna see how much liveblogging I can get done today. We’re still in full Kevin mode, and we’re starting the day with Heads of the Family. I have minimal idea what to expect, but I love Kevin and I love the Bugg Brothers, so it can’t be bad.

Right?

My love for this show’s music selection continues.

Oh good lords, these people take family reunions seriously. There’s a fucking banner. You can see more people in this frame then there was at my last family reunion in it’s entirety. And that was everybody from this farming family that still lived in the northeast within six generations of relation. Not kidding.I know nix and I play with there being too many fucking Joneses but goddamn there are canonically too many fucking Tennysons!

Just, goddamn.

...Last year Ben and Gwen had a burping contest where Ben won by so much a fucking gazebo collapsed on them and several relatives. I’m not surprised, just concerned

And Aunt Kathy damn near banned them from future reunions. Honestly I can’t blame her. Made Max give her a month’s worth of foot massages to re-earn the right to attend.

They’re bringing the deviled eggs.

That is, a sad amount of deviled eggs for the number of people here.

Nobody is happy to see Ben, which, given last year, not surprising.

...yep, that’s a level of offhand rudeness you only get from relatives.

Honestly I gotta write a fic involving family reunions, that’s shit’s gotta be confusing for an Erinaen like Argit.

(probably Great) Aunt Kathy likes bacon in her deviled eggs. The presence of them was likely planned ahead.

There’s a Sweden branch of the Tennyson family. The representatives shown are Sven and Len. I’m horribly amused. Also Max apparently can’t tell which is which.

...Somebody just showed up given a headcount of nearly 600. What is wrong with these people?!

The headcounter’s name is Alfred. He has pumpkin pie. This earns him a point.

He’s Max’s second cousin. This is a relation I can accept as a family reunion.

Somebody is showing off Max’s baby pictures. Making him out to have been a worse-looking teen than he was though. Doesn’t look good, but I was expecting worse from the characters’ reactions.

Also this is apparently Grandma Rita, which given it’s Max saying that I have to assume she’s either his mother or his grandmother, so Ben & Gwen’s great-grandma or great-great-grandma. Probably great-grandma. Either that, or she’s aged real well, or she and Max’s mom had kids real young.

“I’m gonna get some deviled eggs“ Ben says before being stopped by the realization that there, by the food, is his archest of nemesises, Kevin. Who, given there’s nearly 600 people here, may actually belong. I mean statistically, with this many people just attending the reunion, nonetheless in the family, there’s acceptable odds he’s a cousin of some bent.

Also my son, dual-wielding fried chicken

Gwen, concerned Kevin might be related to them. Max, concerned Ben’s going to do something that gets them banned from the family reunion.

“Don’t do anything rash“ like Ben has ever done something not-rash ever in his life

Boys please. I know you’re both disasters but, for five minutes pretend to have something resembling chill.

Ben: *totally down to kick Kevin’s ass for daring to eat a food* Kevin: *certain he won’t because they’re surrounded by innocent relatives* Ben: *does not care one iota* Gwen: *about to have an aneurysm because holy shit is her cousin trying to get them disowned*

I have to admit, I do enjoy the addition of episodes where Kevin is just existing and it’s Ben who’s starting shit? Having a wide range of hows with regards to the boys getting into fights makes sure that we get some real character depth out of both of them, as well as making sure the episodes don’t get samey and that they can always do something new. They aren’t pigeon-holing themselves.

The boys have left to a less target-rich environment and are now fighting because, again, how dare Kevin come to a Tennyson family reunion and eat the food. And we still don’t have any real evidence he doesn’t belong. I mean he makes that ‘where you got all your weird’ comment, but it’s Kevin, if they were twins he’d say that just to rile Ben up.

Me thinks these boys should’ve gone out a little further. Attract less attention.

...Ben knocks Kevin clear across the fairgrounds, jumps into a dumpster to stay out of sight until he comes back for round 2, finds the Bugg Brothers. Of course.

Ben is just having A Day.

A particle decimator. Okay, cool, but why you guys hiding in a dumpster?

It’s a shrinking ray. The plan is to use it to destabilize the national economy, undermine the government, disrupt social order, and wreak havoc among the entire world population. I feel like Maurice needs to start thinking smaller.

And lo, they were using the wrong device and accidentally switched Heatblast and Maurice’s heads. I’m shocked.

This is gonna be a weird episode from here out isn’t it

Kevin, gonna kick somebody’s ass even if he’s not sure what the fuck is going on

Kevin, rolling with the head swapping thing. Though honestly with some of the shit he’s been through this probably don’t seem too bad

I do like how Maurice made a head-swapping helmet and yet he and Sidney have not swapped heads, despite, well, everything.

Ah, this is presumably the device that swapped their heads in the first place. Cool cool.

My son

So clarify, he’s outnumbered, his head in on the wrong body, and the Maurice and Sidney are looming. He shows no signs of concern, or lack of confidence he can handle the situation. He still gets divetackled, but hey

And he’s not doing bad, given he’s wrestling against two guys his size.

And Ben has the helmet

“You need to fix us!“ And how, pray tell, do you expect your cousin to do that, Benjamin?

Welp, Gwen and Max got their heads swapped now.

And the watches timed out, meaning how Maurice and Sidney are basically helpless until shit times back in.

Welp, Maurice and Kevin swapped. So now Kevin’s head is on Ben’s body and Maurice is on Sidney’s. Meanwhile Ben’s head is still on Maurice’s body, Max’s on Gwen’s, and Gwen’s on Max’s.

This play-by-play brought to you by Fanta. Thirsty? Get a fanta.

And now Ben’s head is on a squirrel body. And a squirrel head on Maurice’s.

“Gotta fix this before I get infected with this dork’s genes“ Kevin pls.

Okay, Maurice is whole again, but now there’s a squirrel using Sidney’s body

Wow, Maurice, maybe you should’ve hedged your bets on whether you wanted to leave the helmet in the care of an 11-yo or a fucking squirrel.

And lo, now Maurice is back on Ben’s body and Kevin is on Maurice’s.

And I’m not even gonna give a play-by-play of these last several switches, just assume everything happened including the rise and fall of the roman empire

Kevin is fucking done. Also he and Ben are on each other’s bodies now.

Oooo, I was wondering if this episode came before or after Kev joined up with the Forever Nerd, turns out it’s after. Also this phone doesn’t have the spikes.

Oh gods and Ben is answering the damn phone.

FN: Kevin where are you? Me: Kevin is dead. Yeah, horrible accident involving a sprinkler system, a can of soda, and a mountain lion. Just awful. So, ya know, you may as well just lose this number-

Oh

Oh fuck

Oh gods damn

Okay so Ben imitates Kevin and claims he’s hanging out with his family (which, kudos Ben for trying to cover for him, your sweet child) and the Forever Nerd fucking- The quote-

“Family? *scoffs* That’s a laugh. You have noone. Without me, you’re all alone, remember? Now stop playing around and report back here at once.”

I’m gonna kill him, y’all. I’m gonna kill him and then wrap Kevin in a blanket and feed him cookies and cocoa until he pops.

Even Ben’s like ‘wait, no family?’ Which, given this clearly takes place after Introducing Kevin 11, what is going on in Kev’s life and what did Ben think was going on in Kev’s life?

Also Ben theorizing that maybe that’s why Kev crashed his family reunion, just to be part of one, and gods preserve me that’s a painful thought.

Kevin, critiquing the Bugg Brother’s evil plot.

Ben: If you want your body back you just need to blast me- Kevin: *blasts him*

Maurice and Sidney have been getting on so well this episode, it warms the heart. And makes sense in an episode involving a family reunion and the official reveal that Kevin has jackshit in the way of familial relations. Now to find if this is because he dropped them for being shit, because he’s actually an orphan, or he’s been taken from his family because they were shit.

Rath trying to be friendly and welcoming towards Kevin.

Kevin, just walking away from that shit.

And Max and the squirrel are still mixed up, and continue to be as the family flees the event.

9/11 solely due to Kevin things. My son deserves better.

[slackingsatan]

Hi!! So I can see Nico spoiling the FUCK out of Levi. So an AU were Nico isn’t under Link, he’s a super super super successful&rich, and he just loves to spoil his little bean.

AAAAAAAAAAA AM SORRY I’VE BEEN GONE FOR A FEW DAYS. THERE’S BEEN LIKE TRAINING AND PRODUCTION STUFF WORK AND SHITS. FEELING SICK AS WELL… LOL ALRIGHT HERE WE GO..

———————————————-

So here some notes.

RichBoi!Nico AU

- In this timeline, Nico took another career path and became successor of some family business.

- His company is one of the benefactors of Grey-Sloan and other hospitals, especially hospitals that encourage medical advances and breakthroughs. Having a different career path doesn’t mean that his passion for medicine died.

- He visits Grey-Sloan and there he met Dr. Levi Schmitt, a surgical intern. Levi thought he was some patient’s relative and he escorted Nico to the waiting area.

- Levi is a clueless tiny bean about who he is. Taryn and Dahlia kinda recognized him. Casey knows about him because Nico’s company is a medical tech company. Casey would be the reason Levi would know about how big Nico’s empire and name is.

- Yeah teenie tiny Levi so clueless about the fact that every equipment of Grey-Sloan has Kim written all over it, and he doesn’t know AT ALL

———————————————-

How they first meet

“U-Uh sir there’s a waiting area for relatives and family members.” A young looking nerdy doctor said.

Wait, is he talking to me? Nico thought with confusion.

“I’m not really a-”

“I’ll escort you there.” The young looking doctor interrupted Nico’s explanation.

He doesn’t know me? It’s the first time that happened to Nico, that a doctor doesn’t know who he is. Every hospital he’s ever visited would recognize him. He’s like the Elon Musk of medical technology. He thought that no doctor in this world would not know of his name. He build an empire of medical tech and paved way to future medicine after all.

Nico followed the young clueless doctor, but with a bit of a distance between them in order to examine this rare specimen.

Light blue scrubs at Grey-Sloan? Must be an intern. He thought, still confused since even interns still know who Nico Kim is.

The young doctor opened a door towards the waiting area. He then gestured a ‘come-here’ hand gesture.

That’s cute. Nico thought and smirks while approaching the young looking doctor towards the waiting area. Come to think of it, he looks cute too.

“O-Okay. A doctor will come here and update you.” The young looking doctor broke the silence.

He still thinks I’m a patient relative. Nico giggled a little bit.

“I’ll be going now.”

The young doctor was about to go.

“What’s your name?” Nico asked, not going to miss a chance to know this cute little child doctor.

“Dr. Levi Schmitt.” Levi replied. “But everybody calls me glas- y’know what.. it’s just Dr. Schmitt.”

There’s a huge amount of trauma at the pit so Dr. Schmitt had to leave. If only there’s a bit of time to ask his number, Nico would have done that. He thought about it and Levi’s his type of guy he would date. Cute, nerdy, and sweet.

Next time I’ll ask him out.

“Thank god you’re here, Mr. Kim.” A doctor said and relieved that she found Nico at last. “My name Dr. Miranda Bailey, Chief of Surgery, and I’ll be touring you.” Dr. Bailey said enthusiastically.

“Hi, and please, lead the way.” Nico said politely.

—————————————

How they met, 2nd time

Levi drank with his friends at Joe’s after a long ortho session with Dr. Link.

“I’ve never done ortho before!” Levi exclaimed and sighed. He’s venting his stress out.

“Are we playing never have I ever?” Taryn said sarcastically. “Okay, never have I ever dropped my glasses at an open abdomen.”

Dahlia laughed so hard that she almost slipped her drink.

“ha Ha haarr.” Levi laughed sarcastically. Annoyed, he thought two can play that game. “Well how’s the secret crush at Dr. Grey.”

“Ooooh. Who wouldn’t though? But in a non-romantic way of course.” Dahlia said.

“Wow!” Taryn shocked at the foul move, and recovered quickly. “For the record, hear her talk about Christina Yang and tell me if you think she’s straight.”

They laughed and tell stories about how their day went. Casey was still on shift, so he’ll join next time.

Levi’s going to order another drink when a tall handsome man brushed a cold beer bottle towards his hands. It’s the patient relative that he escorted before.

“Rough day?” Tall handsome man said. “You need a drink.”

“T-thanks.” Levi replied and confused with the kind gesture. “B-but here I can pay-” He’s about to reach for his wallet when Mr. Handsome stopped him.

“No need. You owe me a drink next time.”

“Okay.” Levi replied and still confused. Wow he’s hunky, and ripped, and chiseled, like a model. Like a roman stature. Geez, what am I thinking?

Mesmerized, Levi asked for the tall handsome man patient relative’s name.

“It’s Nico.” Nico responded. “By the way, I’m not a relative of a patient.. just so we’re clear, I was checking medical equipment.”

“What? But you’re wearing a suit.. aand uh” Levi’s more confused and now embarrassed since he escorted him away and thought he was some patient’s relative. “I’m sorry.”

Nico was wearing a suit on that day. He doesn’t look like IT or tech support. Levi thought. Now, he’s wearing a smart casual outfit. Stylish techy tall handsome tall venti guy. Interesting.

Nico’s phone rang.

“It’s okay. Have to go. Remember you owe me a drink.”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday.”

Nico left to answer a call. Taryn and Dahlia went to Levi.

“So that’s a date?” Taryn smiled and giggled.

“N-no it-s nott a date” Levi got all flustered and in denial.

“Trust me it’s a date. He asked you out for drinks.”

“He looks familiar.” Dahlia added.

“He sure does, we only saw a glimpse of him so i dunno.” Taryn shrugged.

“He works as IT or something.” Levi explained. “He was checking medical equipments and I thought he was a patient’s relative so I escorted him towards the waiting room. And now I owe him a drink. Nothing more.”

Dahlia and Taryn laughed.

“How can you have mistaken him for a relative?” Taryn asked after laughing.

Dahlia laughed harder.

“Pheww haah wa-wait.” Dahlia took a breather. “Anyways, it looks like you’ve hit a jackpot!”

“I told you, it. Is. Not. A. Date.” Levi’s still not convinced, but deep inside he’s excited about it.

“Whatever floats your boat.” Taryn said.

“… Whatever makes you sleep at night.” Dahlia added.

And they drank again, because tomorrow it’s back to work.

———————————

Let’s skip to when they’re together and Nico spoils him hard on one of their dates

It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. Levi was busy with fellowship and Nico’s managing his business. They treasure the times that they could meet, and then hope for those times to happen.

They have a day for themselves, at last. Nico planned an extravagant date. He doesn’t really mind to spend money for Levi.

The night before their date, Nico waited for Levi’s shift to end inside his sportscar. Levi’s shift ended. They talked about what happened to them over the past few days, even though they always talk through phone or chat.

“… and I was about to c-cut thee .. the..”

Tired, he slept midsentence when he was telling a story about his recent patient.

Cute. Nico thought and drove the sleeping bean to his house. He had planned the night as well. There was a scheduled full body massage and jacuzzi in case Levi wanted to splash the stress away as well.

Levi felt relaxed and happy because he’s spending time with Nico. Tonight is relaxation… and another kind of stress relief IYKWIM. Tomorrow is the real date.

Levi wanted to sneak and make breakfast for Nico, but Nico’s hired chef had already made breakfast. Breakfast is served on a long table full of Levi’s favorite foods. He was surprised with the enormous amount of food. But Levi wanted to cook for both of them, not that he was against letting other people cook their food. It was supposed to be their time. And he wanted to show Nico how much he loves him too.

“Ohh… Uh.. Hi.” Levi greeted the people inside the kitchen and the dining area.

“Good morning, sir!” The personal chef greeted the tiny bean and proceeds to introduce the dishes. Nico went down a minute later.

“Good morning, hun.” Nico said and kisses Levi. “Let’s eat.”

“Good morning.” Levi replied, smiled and then asked. “Isn’t this a bit too much?”

“Too much? Don’t you worry and just eat.”

I really wanted to cook breakfast. Levi thought, and then dismissed it since it’s their time and no negative thoughts.

Next, Nico and Levi went to shop clothes. Levi insisted not to since he has a lot of clothes already but Nico wants Levi to have new nice things.

“Try everything on him.” Nico said calmly, but like in an order.

“Yes, sir.” The staff replied. Levi looks amazing on everything, and he almost thought that Nico would buy the whole damn store (he bought half of the store.)

Next, for their lunch, there’s a reservation on one of those fancy restaurants that it cost a fortune for just a glass of water.

“Uhhh are you sure this is okay?” Levi said, because those prices can kill a middle class man.

Nico chuckled. He remembered this scenario when Levi hasn’t realized who he is.

— Flashback—

Nico invited Levi to dinner, and Levi is surprised that it’s in a fancy restaurant.

“Uhh Nico we can’t afford this.” Levi said while computing what he has to order.

“It’s my treat, anyways.” Nico said, and he touched Levi’s hand above the table for reassurance.

“Y’know that I’m just a surgical intern right? And idk you work like IT or Tech…. these prices are just… wow… we can just bail…” Levi whispered.

Actually, I’m the President of KMS Corporation (Kim Medical System Corp.)

“Trust me I got this.” Nico reassured.

–end of Flashback—

Levi seems a bit troubled, and Nico have noticed it. They stumbled across some sort of arcade shop. Levi wanted to try it and Nico was persuaded easily. Nico wanted to win him the big teddy bear on top of the shelf, it cost like 30000 tickets. One of the fastest way to gain tickets is a shooting game. Nico went and bought tons of tokens to try the shooting game with Levi. It turns out that Levi is good at these types of games. Levi won like 70% of their shared tickets. Nico saw Levi’s genuine smile and laugh for the first time today.

“You didn’t enjoy today didn’t you?” Nico said.

“W-What? Can’t you see I’m enjoying it? We can actually collect 30000 tickets! Or even more than that!” Levi replied, excited to get some prices.

“I mean like when we ate breakfast and when we shopped you clothes. Also, when we had lunch. If something’s bothering you, tell me.”

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. It’s just that I’m not used to having fancy things, or like a fancy lifestyle… I actually wanted to make you breakfast this morning…. I want to show you how much I love you, too.” Levi explained, and then touched Nico’s fingertips with his own.

“You wanted to make me breakfast?”

“Y-Yeah.. I’m actually good at cooking, FYI!”

“How about dinner?”

“Oh absolutely! B-But maybe you have plans, I don’t want to interfere.”

Adorable! I want to squeeze him like a tiny teddy bear! Nico thought.

“No worries, let’s go with your plan. Let’s go grocery shopping.”

Nico cancelled like this ferris wheel dinner where for each loop at the ferris wheel, there will be new servings. He didn’t let Levi know, he wants him to not worry about such things. They went grocery shopping together, picking up ingredients. Levi’s going to cook German cuisines and then Nico will teach him about Korean cuisines as well. So the bought enough for both German and Korean food.

It might not be the most romantic and fancy dinner they’ve had, but it’s the moment that has value more than its financial worth.