#original hall monitor

[somner-xd]

I know no one cares, but I posted the first chapter of my pretty bad Kindergarten fanfic. You should read it of smth. It's The Original Hall Monitor/Stevie (so it's a rarepair lol), and it has original characters in it, the principal and her daughter, who play a pretty major role in the story, but im trying to keep it as similar to the games as possible.

Read it here

[orgrimmar-archive]

[hipstergecko]

Waking Up.

Hey so remember that DPxDC prompt I wrote awhile back? I've been writing it! Here's a brand new chunk.

Ghost in a Box: Danny experiences extreme sensory deprivation after getting trapped in a coffin like box his parents invented. His box is opened on the JL watchtower after being found in an underground bunker. Humans can't do sensory deprivation for too long. Apparently neither can Danny.

Original Ghost in a Box prompt here.

----

Black bat was waiting. She was quite good at waiting. Sometimes on a mission you had to be patient. Still and silent. Waiting.

The boy that had come out of the box had been in the intensive care unit for days. He had been dehydrated and was terribly emaciated. He had been starving. How long had he been in the box?

They couldn’t ask him until he woke up. So she had been waiting.

Cass sighed and walked silently down the hall to the ICU. After they had gotten the boy into the medical wing, she’d gotten the whole “that was incredibly dangerous” spiel from her dad Batman. He was proud of her though. She could tell. It spoke through the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. The softness of his hands. Hopefully that softness would be given to the boy from the box.

There had been multiple debriefs and meetings to discuss how to proceed with the boy. The majority of heroes were loath to continue opening boxes. What if they were full of creatures much like the boy? Capable of so much damage and danger. They didn’t even know what he was.

The documents they had uncovered called the boy a ghost. But after checking his vital signs, they found he had a pulse. He had a heart, breath, and blood. He was human.

But he was in the box. So he wasn’t. The members of Justice league dark had been contacted and were due to arrive any day now. They had been on assignment somewhere else. Cass hadn’t bothered to find out where they’d been.

None of that mattered anyway.

What had mattered, truly, was that the boy from the box was afraid. Afraid and unable to communicate. And Cass understood him. He was terrified and desperate. And Cass saw him beyond the horrors.

He was a child and he needed help.

So he was hers now. No matter what anyone else said. She reached out to him first and he was her new brother/son/child. Bruce would have to deal with it.

She had stayed on the watchtower, with Bruce’s blessing, since the box had been opened. She barely left the boy’s side much to Bruce’s chagrin. He was not pleased with the possibility of her being in danger. But Tim had pointed out that she was plenty dangerous herself.

She loved her brothers.

She stayed on the watchtower all the time now. Staying with the boy and only leaving the observation room to shower and eat on her own. The doctors had insisted, gently, that she should take some time to herself after those first few days. So she does. Today she took a hot shower and attended a few meetings to keep up as to what they planned to do with her new brother. She also got to spend some time with Spoiler who had just so happened to be on the watchtower that day (she sent a thank you message to Tim over the family chat).

She looked through the observational window, a frown hidden behind her mask. The boy was hooked up to various machines to monitor his vitals. His eyes were still covered and the headphones were still firmly on his head. He looked so small and frail against the bed linens. There wasn’t much more they could do until the JLD members arrived.

The doctors inside the room were gently cleaning the boy. Running a warm soft wipe down his arms and legs, checking his vital signs, laying a warm blanket over him for comfort. She watched impassively at first, then with intense interest as some of the monitors showed brain activity.

Signs of waking. Her new brother was waking up.

She was the first one in the room when the boy jerked awake with a gasp.

---------

Consciousness.

Discomfort.

Gravity.

The air tastes funny. His arm itches. His legs feel heavy.

Weird.

Danny floated on the edge of wakefulness. Or at least what he thought was consciousness. It was hard to tell anymore. Everything was a cycle of dreaming and waking, or was it dreaming and dreaming? It was hard to find reality. Nothing changed except the hallucinations his mind conjured. And even his mind had started to get things wrong.

He couldn’t trust his memories anymore. He couldn’t remember what life was like. If he saw his mother in the box with him, he couldn’t make out the details of her face. Or His father’s laugh. Or his sister’s hair. Everything was fuzzy. Distant. Faded from his memories.

Did he even have a family? Was that something he made up?

He couldn’t remember.

How long had he been in here? He’d stopped counting the days when his eyes ceased to glow. Recycled ectoplasm was good at sustaining a ghost, but not good at feeding a ghost. And him being only a few years dead, he was still developing powers. Well he would be if he wasn’t essentially being purposefully stunted in this stupid box.

What a stupid box. Can’t even sit up in it. It was more like a coffin than a box. It would figure that he finally got put in a coffin. Specially since he died all the way but not quite once already. How lame. Someone somewhere was probably laughing about this.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah. His eyes stopped glowing. Made it harder to see what was real. He couldn’t see the shadows of his real hands and the lack of them on the images his mind conjured. It was hard to tell the difference. If he could even tell the difference anymore.

He probably couldn’t tell at all anymore really.

He floated beyond consciousness for a moment more, resisting the press upon his mind to wake. Better to sleep. After all, there wasn’t anyone coming to get him. The whispers were silent when he wasn’t in his mind. The voices stopped. The hands didn’t pull at his mouth and eyes. It was the only chance at peace he got.

Something touched him.

Weird.

Wait…

Something, no, someone was touching him. Moving his itchy arm. He felt hands on his legs, moving them under the heaviness.

The hands were touching him.

Danny jolted to full consciousness with a gasp. He violently jerked away from the hands and scrambled back. They’d never moved him before! They’d only tried to! He had always fought them off! They were just hallucinations!! His mind only thought he was being touched!! What happened?! How?! WHY?!

His breath came in larger gasps of air as he spiraled into panic. The hands, glowing and green, decayed and skeletal reached out of the darkness. Whispered words filled his ears, static and chiming all at once. He flailed out at them frantically, touching nothing. He whimpered. They weren’t real they weren’t real they weren’t real.

One of the hands grabbed his arm.

He cried out at the contact. The weak and raspy sound pulling painfully from this throat as he lashed out at the hand and fell back. The ectoplasm felt firm and plush beneath him.

Wait, was that really ectoplasm? Was this real?

Somehow in his retreat, he reached an edge. He slipped.

He fell.

He hit a hard surface and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. He choked on the strange air and grasped blindly around himself. There was no ectoplasm, nothing swishing around him as he moved. He struggled to breathe and reached frantically out to his sides.

There were no walls.

No walls, no ceiling, no swishing stale ectoplasm.

What…

He… he wasn’t in the box.

This couldn’t be real.

He scrambled back along what he felt was the floor until he hit something hard. A wall? He didn’t care. This wasn’t real, but it felt real enough to use as an anchor, so at the wall he stayed.

Danny grasped at his arms. Nails dug into muscle, piercing the skin and drawing ectoplasm. He felt the pain and it grounded him. He was real. He was still real. His breathing was still harsh, the panic still real. The hands still reaching for him weren’t real. The floor and wall weren’t real. He was just trapped in another hallucination.

He just needed to calm down and wait until he came out of it naturally or hurt himself into reality. Either way he would still be in the box.

Abandoned in the box.

He dragged his nails down his arms, leaving behind gashes that wept. He wasn’t concerned though. His ghost form would heal fast enough that it wouldn’t make a difference. All he needed was to stop seeing things that weren’t real. He’d shed enough tears over illusions of his friends and family. Been through enough terrors and memories to doubt his mind. He knew he was in the box. Once he found the box again he could try to go back to sleep.

He’d lost the will to do anything more what felt like a lifetime ago. All he had left to his obsession was protection. Self protection. Survival. Keep his human half alive. By staying a ghost and surviving the horrors of his mind.

It was all he had left.

He ran his hands up his arms to start tearing at his skin again and found… wetness? He hadn’t healed yet? He lifted a hand to his face and licked the wetness on his fingers.

Copper tang. The faintest taste of ectoplasm.

It tasted like… blood?

Danny’s heart stopped in his chest. Wrong. His heart stuttered in his chest and he scrabbled at his neck. He fingers found his pulse.

Oh no.

He had a pulse. He was human again!

The darkness surrounding him was suddenly suffocating, pulling at his breath and stealing his rational thought. He was real, but he was going to die. Humans can’t survive as long as he had without food and water and air! He couldn’t keep control of his ghost form and his human half was going to die! He had to change back or he would fail at doing the only thing he had left!!

He started hyperventilating and desperately grabbed at his ghost core. An immediate searing pain shot through his chest. The sound he made was akin to someone tearing paper and he fell over on his side. He began trembling all over.

That hurt so bad. That hurt so bad.

He couldn’t think. He could breathe but that just brought him closer to death. Tears welled from his eyes and caught on something just beyond his eyelashes, turning the blackness somehow darker. He was going to die and the recycled ecto had failed and he was going to die and the static wouldn’t stop and the hands wouldn’t let him go and he was going to die alone and forgotten he was going to die again nopleasenopleasenotagain-

Something touched his hands.

Danny jerked back and away, nausea surging up his throat. He pushed himself up only to vomit stomach acid. The only thing in his system. It burned as it came and went. His stomach clenched so hard that he curled over on himself. His muscles shook with strain as he hyperventilated. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move…

Something touched him again. A gentle pressure on his back. Warm and soft.

He tensed beyond what he thought he was able. Rigid, but shaking in fear. He had no thoughts beyond the sheer terror of what he thought was unreality becoming reality.

Moments passed. And nothing happened.

The pressure on his back stayed. It did not grasp at him like the hands did. It remained gentle and soft. A warmth. It was different. It was scary.

It felt nice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s breathing calmed. Slowly, he felt things around him. He felt the blood trickling down his arms. The cold floor under his legs. The soft, long shirt on his body didn’t close in the back or reach down past his knees. He was warmer than the floor which was strange, but made sense. He was human again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he turned back human. It was his greatest fear. To turn human in the box and die alone and small in the dark enclosed space.

But he wasn’t dying. He was breathing. The air was fresh. It tasted strange. His hands fluttered along the wounds on his arms. He felt pain and knew it was real. And the pressure on his back felt real.

Did… did someone open the box?

Hope hit him so hard that he began to cry softly. He couldn’t let himself hope, but he couldn’t deny it. Not when this all seemed so real. His crying grew harder. Harsh stuttering breaths that he couldn’t even hear. Which was kind of odd. Why couldn’t he hear himself? Did he still have ears? He slowly reached up and felt where his ears should be. There was something covering them. A hard plastic thing that went up over his head. Slowly his hands moved in front of his face. He found his nose and his mouth. They were still there. Then he touched the places where his eyes should be. He felt cloth.

His eyes and ears were covered?

Another hand touched his own and he jolted. It was as gentle and warm as the other hand. He could finally hear his ragged cries as the hand took his gently and intertwined the fingers. A gentle squeeze had the tears coming hard and fast. From fear or hope? There was no telling. A sheer outpouring of emotion.

Someone had opened the box.

And they were holding his hand.

He desperately hoped this was real.

----------

That's it for now! Honestly I'm just writing snippets of story beats and then stringing them together when the anxiety has quieted. I have an AO3 account now, but I'm still posting everything here first!

Nyeeeh keep an eye out for more I guess.

[kaybreezy3000]

Looking for Happy Five Hargreeves X FTM Reader -anon request)

~Explicit sexual content -if no likey-stay away please.

Hilariously simple but true summary: Five Hargreeves is sad and horny and wants to fuck, and all he wants is you.

(Don't worry, I will try to take you a little emotional rollercoaster that's not all the dirty-dirty 👍)

~Reader is post-top surgery and pre-bottom surgery.

~This story was done as an anon request, asking if I'd be willing to do a pairing of Five X m reader, or Five X ftm reader. The request left the plot open for me to decide if it had much of one or how deep I went with it. Anon did give me a few fun ideas to include if I could, and I did my best to deliver and had a lot of fun doing it, so I hope you enjoy. Thank you, anon. And special thanks to my buddy Bad Kitty @badkitty3000 for proof reading this and catching my zillions of mistakes.❤️

(18,900 words)

Content Warnings and additional tags: Dom Five and some Sub Five, small 'Scream' movie add in per anon's personal love of the movie with sexy Billy and Stu, light praise kink, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, spanking, public sex, Five being sweet, Five being a cocky jerk, masturbation mentions, flirting)

NOTE: This story takes place during season four and after it, using a series of flashbacks, so it moves between past and present several times. Also, this was obviously written before season 4 came out, with an alternate season 4 ending written my way. It has lots of season 4 trailer and interview mentions to make it more fun and hopefully tie in a little with the real season 4.

~~~~~Looking for Happy~~~~~

Coming out of one of the empty offices at the Temps Commission headquarters, Five is met with silence. He still holds the title to the main building of the time controlling agency that he founded, but now, he and his family are the only ones that know it ever existed. 

He has no reason to be there.

It’s as it should be, but like always, he can’t seem to move on.

As Five told The Handler, he is a man that no longer belongs anywhere, only when he said that, he didn’t realize he was the driving force behind so much of his own suffering, or that in the end, it would all come down to him.

Everything he’s done was to restore life as it should be, and finally, this time they won. They are all alive. He should be happy. They are back in their original timeline where they should have always been, but the concept of time and Five’s place in it have always felt like pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to be solved. 

For everyone but the Hargreeves, with their exceptional powers given at birth, it’s as if the final battle that brought on the end, and then opened the door for the new beginning never happened.

That means you don’t remember him.

The rest of the world didn’t need to remember the terror. You just needed to live.

Strolling along, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast as the heels of his dress shoes echo down the vacant halls, despite his wins, Five feels empty. All he wants is to go back to a time and place that’s no more, back to when he could feel your lips pressed to his with a desperation that matched his own.

Reaching the end of the hall, he enters the narrow room filled with screens and panels of little white and blue blinking lights. He sinks into one of the industrial style chairs that’s placed in front of the Infinite Switchboard’s main frame.

Five clicks on the outdated looking monitor, his fingers turning the knobs, dialing.

~~~

Not long later, Five’s face is glued to the screen when Klaus peaks in at him from the hall.

Knowing Five would be here, Klaus passes over the threshold, loudly clearing his throat before saying, “Hey there, big bro…watcha doing?”

Five doesn’t even look up. “Yeah, lucky me. Is it time for our weekly check-in already?”

Treading lightly, Klaus approaches. “When you missed dinner tonight, we were a little worried you’d fallen asleep on the countertop in the break room again, but here you are...”

Klaus lightheartedly laughs at his attempt to make a joke about Five’s odd sleeping habits, but Five continues to ignore him.

“Thank goodness we still have a few of these things hanging around, otherwise the rest of us wouldn’t be able to visit this lovely place,” he says as he lugs up one of Five’s time traveling briefcases, waving it in his face.

Five glares at him.

“Really, man,” Klaus continues. “Everyone was there tonight. It was all the usual banter you’d expect from such an amazing group of misfits, but it would have been so much better if you were there too. Things even got a little out of hand when Diego insisted on coming here to force you to eat what was left of their disgusting vegan goulash, but don’t worry, I put him in his place.”

“Sure, you did,” Five mumbles.

Taking a step closer Klaus asks, “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

Klaus’s eyes follow his brother’s unbroken gaze to the monitor, just as you enter your apartment building, where you stop in front of the wall of mailboxes. Your hand comes up, bringing your key to your lock, but your eyes remain fixed on the mailbox above yours.

“That was your mailbox,” Klaus points out, like Five doesn’t already know that.

Five once stood right there by you in that entryway. He hadn’t thought anyone that wasn’t part of his family would ever have the balls to try to put him in his place, but you did, and by doing it, you opened a part of him that before that, he hadn’t been willing to let anyone touch.

After shoving your mail in the back pocket of your baggy jeans, just like the day you met, with your face obscured by your sweatshirt, you stomp up the stairs, your anger evident.

The screen hisses with static as Five adjusts your location until it shows you walking into your bedroom. 

“Why don’t you just go there and talk to him? Maybe jump him in the shower or something. Sounds like something you kinky boys would both enjoy,” Klaus unhelpfully suggests.

“He’s not in the shower, you dumbass,” Five says, letting out an irritated sigh afterwards.

“He might be in a few minutes…”

“No.”

“Hey man, I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, but he remembers you,” Klaus insists, spinning Five’s chair around.

Swinging around, Five almost falls out of his chair. “What the fu-!"

“Five, I know you’re only trying to do what you think is right, but just look at him, something is wrong!”

Five does look, just as you pick up the stack of papers and news clippings from your bedside table. He doesn’t need to zoom in to see the one you are holding. It’s a famous image of him in his academy uniform, mask and all, standing like the smug little jerk he was while posing in line next to the rest of the superpowered Hargreeves children.

“There is no other explanation for why he is looking up all this stuff about you, and there’s other reason why he keeps coming by my old place,” Klaus furthers, “Why won’t you let me go talk to him? We were friends. He might remember me too.”

“Leave him alone!” Five snaps, but his bark has no bite, and his eyes can no longer hide how painful this is seeing you this way.

“Everyone is worried about you. We just want to help,” Klaus pleads.

“You can’t help me with THIS!” Hands shaking, Five jumps up, his voice breaking just a little as he says, “Klaus... I can’t.”  He looks back over at the screen, right as you furiously toss a tiny collector figurine version of him across the room. “Just because I want to see something in this doesn’t mean it’s real,” Five whispers, looking anywhere but at his brother, or you.

“He maybe wasn’t supposed to remember, but I think he does. As we all know, there are a lot of things that make no sense in this world,” Klaus disagrees. “There is something going on with him. Can’t you see he’s falling apart?”

Jaw working anxiously, Five drops back down in front of his screens again, flipping them to what is clearly a random time and date, somewhere in the past with ladies in long billowing skirts and the men in fancy dress coats, escorting them down muddy streets filled with steaming piles of horse shit.

It’s over.

This is how it always goes.

Klaus remains silent as Five pulls out a notebook, pretending to be taking notes on whatever he is pretending to get out of watching things from the past when there is no longer a reason to monitor it for corrections. 

Klaus knows that Five isn’t going to budge, but before he leaves, he says, “Five, I know you are only trying to do what you think is best for him, but what if it’s not best. It’s not too late to fix this part of what was broken too.”

Five’s pen slows as he looks up at his brother standing over by the door. He nods, trying to smile but Klaus can see it’s so hard for him to do it. “I promise I’ll be there next time. Tell Lila that I am sorry.”

“Tell her yourself,” Klaus shoots back, followed by a small chuckle, “She’s pissed. She worked for hours cutting up all those fancy organic carrots for you, so don’t be surprised if the next time you drop by, she chops something off that you find equally important as wanting us all to eat sustainably. And by important, I mean your wiener,” he unnecessarily clarifies.

The hint of a real smile fights to come out and wins this time as Five says, “Lila hates to cook, so I know she did not help make me dinner, and if she was going to chop off my dick, she would have done it by now.”

Klaus smiles too and shrugs. “Maybe… She was pretty mad at you though, so I guess you’ll have to come over to their place to find out if you are still besties. And hey, maybe think about bringing my friend along with you next time. Everyone is dying to meet him and see that adorable smiling face of yours. It’s not like we all don’t know how you like being perpetually grumpy, but seriously…you’re so much prettier when you smile.”

While Five is telling Klaus to fuck off, hoping he finally talked some sense into him, Klaus quickly rounds the corner, hoisting up his briefcase, his fingers punching in the correct date to go back to the present.

As soon as Klaus is gone, Five’s smile fades. He turns the dial, bringing up the footage of you also back in current time, right as you’re screaming into your pillow. “What the fuck is wrong with me!”

His heart breaks a little more.

Nothing is wrong with you. He is the problem, that is why he never should have done what he did. 

He should have let you walk away, but he didn’t.

~~~

The invisible string, a connection that refuses to be ignored, tugs at your mind and it won’t stop.

You’re going crazy.  

Like the miniature resin version Five you just sent flying, the pillow on your face joins it on the floor.

It makes no sense, but you can still feel the tickle of Five’s breath against your neck as you cuddled together on your couch, him contentedly holding you like he never wanted to let you go.

Your eyes remain focused on your motionless ceiling fan, but your brain refuses to come back to the present.

The pain inside your chest tightens.

You try to push it away, but it only gets worse the more you try to tell yourself to stop this.

This is insanity. You need help. That’s what people would say if you told them about the things going on inside your head.

From anything you can gather, Five’s family seem like they aren’t concerned about anything at all, but not that long ago you remember them being shown on every news channel, doing unimaginable things while defending themselves from the barrage of artillery being shot at them.

Five left you only hours before that, promising to be back, but he never came back.

Long after he said he’d be home, you watched in shock as the news blasted stories about him and other people associated with him that made no sense. They said they were aliens! They said they were superheroes from another dimension! They flashed images of Five’s much younger face alongside the other people he grew up with, including Klaus.

Then a war started in the streets.

Almost immediately, the news reporters had given up trying to maintain their façade of calm. The holiday lights beyond their lens twinkled eerily as the sound of explosions filled the air and rocked the ground.

People screamed and sirens blared, and not just on the TV. You could hear it coming from outside your windows.

As the collapsed news camera continued to stream live feed, out of nowhere, Five appeared in the frame, enveloped for a fraction of a second in a flash of violet hued light.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. It couldn’t be real.

Five’s long coat tails flung like wings behind him as he grabbed ahold of the terrified girl whose picture you’d seen on the birthday invite Klaus had shown you. Five and the girl disappeared in another burst of light, just as bullets ripped through the metal garbage can she was hiding behind.

You smelled the smoke in the air when you ran outside. The earth shook, rattling your teeth as the echo of gunfire sent chills up your spine.

It all happened, only it didn’t. Nobody else remembers it.

Now, the Umbrella Academy is a thing of the past. The superpowered children that had once lived there are common knowledge, but they supposedly moved on with their lives long ago.

Klaus’s apartment isn’t his anymore, and the doors at the Umbrella Academy never open when you ring the bell.

The world in which you met is gone and the Five you knew is gone with it.

Five Hargreeves disappeared at the age of 13, never to be seen or heard from again.

Was any of it even real?

Again, you’re back to questioning your sanity.

“Fuck,” you curse, while raking your hand through your hair.

It’s been months. Three months and twenty-seven days to be exact since you first talked to Five, only then, you didn’t know that was his real name and not just a quirky nickname he preferred to go by.

He always had a nervous energy about him, and he always seemed distracted, so you usually paid no attention to him, but that day, something about the way he refused to acknowledge your presence set you off.

After he rudely stepped on your foot and pushed into you with his shoulder while reaching for his mailbox, you slammed your metal mailbox door closed, doing it much louder than needed.

You smiled with satisfaction when Five startled, even jumping a little.

He looked over at you with cartoon sized wide eyes.

Shaking your head, you’d said, “Not sure if you noticed, but you are not the only one trying to occupy this space. I exist too.”

Five’s eyes narrowed, the intensity of his glare slowly moving up and down as he took in your loose t-shirt and baggy jeans, comfortably paired with your favorite beat up low top sneakers.

You were sure the assessment he was making of you was not a good one. Especially when you consider that he was dressed impeccably as he always was, a long wool coat over a three-piece suit, with his hair a mess of chocolate brown strands, that though all over the place, only made him look even more unfairly attractive.

Compared to him, even though you stood over him by an inch or more, you suddenly felt like a tiny bug on the floor about to be obliterated under one of his shiny dress shoes. Your bodies outwardly didn’t look that much different, but you could tell that you were a little scrawny even when compared to his relative scrawniness. On top of that, he appeared to be close to the same age as you, but it was as if you were opposites, living in the same shitty apartment building, but he was somehow better than you.

You quickly concluded that he was a totally dickhead. Thinking about his stupid big black shoes, and then dicks as they related to shoe size, your mind started moving to certain ways that you were pretty sure you were different from him other than the fact that you weren’t an asshole.

You started to turn away, but before you did, you bitterly added, “I live here, by-the-way. We pass by each other almost daily. Not sure if you are aware of that?”

Ingrained manners getting the best of you, you extended a hand. Five looked at it like a foreign object.

He said nothing, so getting really mad, you casually as possible hooked a thumb under your waistline, while defiantly cocking your chin at him. “An I am sorry, or an excuse me, are just two options you could use to apologize when you just rudely rammed into someone, but it looks like you’re not going to do that since you lack even the most basic kindergarten level social skills.”

You tucked your mail in your back pocket and his eyes immediately moved down to your waist, openly checking out your striped boxers that were starting to show thanks to your pants sagging. Even more annoyed by this less than pleasant interaction, you started to walk away, quietly breathing out the word ‘jerk’ as you headed back towards the stairs.

“Wait!” he called out.

Surprised, you turned back to see the corner of Five’s mouth ticked up, the small movement hardly even noticeable if you hadn’t been suddenly hyper focused on the softness of his slightly parted lips.

“You aren’t wrong. Social graces aren’t where I excel,” he started. “I get lost inside my own head sometimes. I am sorry. Will you accept my apology, or is there something else I can do to make up for being so impolite? Wouldn’t want the neighbor boy thinking I’m a jerk.” 

He extended his hand. 

“You can call me Five, by-the-way.”

Fuck. He heard you, and what the hell, was he trying to be condescending? And Five? 

What the hell kind of name is that?

You looked back over at the name on his mailbox, it wasn’t Five.

“Five is a family nickname,” he explained. The dimple in Five’s cheek grew deeper the longer you dumbfoundedly stared at him. He lifted a brow. “I may be a lot of things, but deep down, I swear I’m a gentleman. I really am sorry for violating your personal space, but I am not that sorry about it because it meant we got to do this.”

What was with this guy?

Rarely did guys his age act so…

Shit… Was he hitting on you?

Five’s smile was like a superpower all its own and it was rendering you speechless, making you temporarily unable to maintain the level of irritation you’d had before. Feeling your face getting hotter, you couldn’t figure out why his words or his expression looked and sounded so flirty, but they did.

Maybe he was just trying to be nice?

Trying to play it cool, you threw a hand back through your slightly less shaggy looking haircut, then replied, “Sure… Nice to meet you and the apology is good enough. Very big of you. Thanks.”

Five’s taunting smile remained, as if you shooting him down was exactly what he wanted.

“Oh,” he breathed, digging through his stack of mail before pulling out an envelope, “I believe this is yours?” He frowned as he looked down at the feminine sounding name and your apartment number that was printed under the clear cellophane address window. “Your roommate, or girlfriend’s, I’m assuming?”

You took the mail from him. “No. No roommate and no girlfriend, just me.”

You were sure that Five looked relieved to hear that, and your breath caught, and your heart kicked up accordingly.

Adding the envelope to your back pocket, you breathed in, then slowly let it out as you rocked back on your heels. “That’s…my dead name,” you clarified.

Five said nothing. He seemed confused as his eyes wandered from yours and he rubbed his chin, but then his eyes suddenly came up, meeting yours again just as it seemed a lightbulb went off inside his brain.

His handsome smile took your breath away as he said, “I never would have guessed, but then again, there is a slightly unhinged, 64-year-old man hiding inside my head, and I am sure you never would have guessed that either.”

You laughed. You never would have guessed he’d be so funny or cute, but he was full of all sorts of surprises.

“You know, nobody reads the news that way anymore, other than grumpy old men, but I guess that makes sense since you’re a retiree,” you teased, trying to keep this whatever it was going by fucking with him again.

Unfazed by you making fun of him, Five nodded. “True,” he agreed, “When it comes to reading real newspapers and my other geriatric ways, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty from time to time on these ink smudged pages,” he waved his paper at you, “-or in other more challenging ways that are much more enjoyable. With the lifetime of experience I have under my belt, I’m sure I could teach you a lesson or two on how to have a good time the old-fashioned way.”

Taking his rolled newspaper, Five slapped it into his opposite hand, making a spanking gesture, all the while never taking his eyes off you.

You rubbed your palms down the front of your jeans. “Wha-what kind of fun?” you stammered, your brain clicking off as blood rushed between your legs.

“The crossword puzzle,” he clarified, followed by a cocky little chuckle. “There’s much more to the newspaper than doom and gloom news stories. It’s all about the delayed gratification. Seeing all those empty squares filled in the only words that can solve the puzzle is a sight well worth the effort.”

“You’re talking about doing crossword puzzles from the newspaper?”

“What else would I be talking about?” he countered.

Holy shit, you wanted to deck him.

~~~

A few days went by, and you didn’t run into your charmingly arrogant neighbor again, not until you were coming home late and you walked into a neighborhood pub to grab some dinner. You looked over, and to your surprise, you saw the familiar profile of a dark-haired asshole sitting alone at the bar.

“You can’t be twenty-one,” you said, sliding in next to him.

Five’s lips pulled to the side as he gave you the most mischievous looking side eye you’d ever seen. “So, you’re stalking me now? If my coworkers at the CIA knew how easily you tracked me down, I’d be fired.”

You scoffed, “You wish,” meaning both to the stalking and him working for the CIA.

Smirking fully, as if acknowledging he did wish you were stalking him, Five self-assuredly tipped his glass your way before sending the rest of the amber colored liquid down his throat.

With his head tipped back, tie pulled loose, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, try as you might, you couldn’t stop looking at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Really. How old are you?” you pushed, trying not to drool.

Five let out a cocky sounding laugh, his eyes a mossy calm as his gaze flicked down and up, drinking you in like he was a lion, sizing up its prey. “19 going on 64, give or take. Doesn’t matter because here, the drinks are strong, and the bartenders don’t care.”

“Right…” Shaking your head at him as you smiled, you flagged down a server.

Knowing what you wanted already, you ordered, but when you asked for it to-go, Five unexpectedly interrupted. “Make that for here, and for two, and put it on my tab, please.”

The bartender looked at you and you nodded that it was okay.

When you were alone again and Five realized you were still looking at him like he was nuts, he calmly said, “What? I thought we were friends now, and I owe you, remember?”

“I suppose that talking smack to each other for five minutes, one time, means we’re friends,” you pointed out, before adding, “And as long as you don’t try to plow into me again, you don’t owe me shit.”

Five shifted his weight, leaning closer, so only you could hear him since the seats on both sides of you had just been taken. “As a man that hasn’t come close to mastering traveling through time, both forwards or backwards, and can no longer do either anymore anyway, I can’t promise anything with it comes to my spatial awareness issues, but that’s a whole different problem of mine among the many. When it comes to sticking my landings and running into you accidentally or not, I tend to think you like the idea of me plowing into you again.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, like you were a brainless fish, nothing coming out, because what the hell do you say to that!

Five burst out laughing. “You are so easy to fuck with.”

“And you are a dick,” you duly noted.

“A dick that you’re apparently not opposed to eating dinner with, and hey, I’ll even buy you a drink too, but only if you’re a good boy and keep looking at me with that handsome little smirk of yours.”

Jesus… Did he just say that?

He did, and his patronizingly suggestive comments weren’t the only thing getting you worked up. You could smell the heady scent of his cologne every time you had to move closer to him to let someone else get up to the bar, and damn did he smell good.

“Confident much?” you cocked off.

Five shrugged. “Yes,” he said, matter of fact. “But the truth is, most of the time I am not great with people. I’ve spent most of my life alone, and I have only ever been with one other person intimately, and that relationship wasn’t what anyone would call normal, and abstaining from any sexual relationship since then is definitely not my penis’s first choice, it's more of an existential problem.”

“Oh, my God!” You burst out laughing.

Your second conversation with Five was starting no less shocking and confusing than the first, and like the time before, you were loving it.

For the next few hours, you sat there with him, getting to know each other, having several more drinks that went down with plenty of laughs and hardly concealed innuendoes that proved over and over that what was going on between you was much more than just friendly chatter.

With his dark strands of hair dangling in his eyes and his perfectly tailored three-piece suit, Five looked hot as hell, and because of that, he was getting checked out constantly the entire time, but he never seemed to notice, and that was because his eyes were always on you.

You didn’t even think about leaving until the band that had been setting up since you got there started to play, and it got way too loud to hold a conversation. As you offered to pay again, Five refused. Then, having already had his foot resting on the rung of your barstool, he abruptly spun you around to face him more directly, giving you an innocent looking smile as he let the tip of his shoe glide up your ankle.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he said, his voice low.

“You’re not?” you sputtered, trying not to spray the liquid you’d just tried to swallow all over him.

“This has been nice,” he said, velvety soft as he moved closer “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“That’s not all I want to do,” you found yourself saying back, your lips brushing his cheek as your hand lowered to his knee, your palm running along the smooth wool fabric, stopping mid-thigh.

Five’s leg tensed. For the first time since you got there, he was tongue tied.

He suddenly moved back, and you instantly removed your hand. You were sure you’d just freaked him out, but then he quickly said, “Maybe we should move?”

Not a second later, you were both making your way through the mob of people, all the way to the edge of the dance floor in front of the stage.

Five seemed so at ease in the crowd, even having fun listening to the live music. He was not at all who you thought he was, and just looking at him next to you made it feel like you had a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

With eyes glossed over, standing as close as you were, the music wasn’t the only thing Five seemed to be enjoying. Taking full advantage of there being no room to move, every now and then, his hand would brush against the side of your thigh, staying there a little longer than necessary. Then, after both of you were getting repeatedly shoved around in the crowd of inebriated people, Five strategically placed himself behind you, as he was trying to protect you.

With him standing behind you, your body got even warmer, and you smiled to yourself, remembering how Five had claimed to be such a gentleman. Whether he did it to be gentlemanly or not, Five seemed all too happy to have a reason to press up against your backside, because now he had an even better reason to place his face next to yours, humming in your ear as he said absurd things to make you laugh.

You weren’t so much dancing together as the people around you were trying to do, but that didn’t mean Five wasn’t intentionally or unintentionally moving himself against you to the rhythm of the music. Trying to figure out which one it was, you reached back taking him his belt, tugging him flush as you dropped your head back and arched your back into him.

Five let out a pained sounding whimper as his hard-on poked the back of your leg and almost just as fast, the tip of his nose brushed your neck as the warmth of his breath caressed your skin. “I’m sorry, but fuck, you’re making me hard,” he whispered before you felt his lips gently kiss your already tingling skin.

He had no reason to be sorry.

Turning around, you slipped your hand around his, assertively leading him through the crowd. You weren’t even off the main floor, a few feet down a side hall near the bathrooms, when Five was on you, taking your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. He was so excited, his lips actually trembled as they pressed against yours, a low moan coming from deep inside his chest when you eagerly reciprocated.

It had to be a whole minute later before he let you up for air, gazing at you with darkened eyes as he smiled. "I really like you.”

Sliding your other hand around his neck, you grabbed at the soft tangle of hair brushing the crisp edge of his shirt collar, tugging it sharply. "You’re going to like me even more in a second,” you shot back, while moving your other hand lower.

Five let out the cutest sound as you started fondling him while also giving his mane another tug, but it must not have been all that upsetting that you were manhandling him because as you tightened your grip in his hair, his hips reactively bucked into yours.

Five’s hard cock pressed up against the crotch of your jeans as he ground himself against you, his hands hungrily groping your ass, pulling you back and forth over his dick.

"Fffiv-vvve," you panted into his frantic kiss.

He smiled against your lips and kept on kissing.

You trailed a hand up his inner thigh, cupping his erection through his clothing as your mouths parted wider. The heat of his tongue entered you, engaging you in a sloppy kiss that ended with biting and tugging at your bottom lip before he said, “You have no idea how bad I wanted this.”

Five let out a shaky sigh as he glanced over at the man carrying several cases of liquor, trudging by, heading towards one of the bars' storage rooms.

You were a little taken aback by how vulnerable he looked, his face flushed, and his lips wet and full from kissing you. You stayed silent for a few seconds, just looking at him.

You weren’t sure if he was going to stop. Something seemed off, only you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not that you were trying that hard. Your fingers were still busy doing something else.

Before you got too worried that he’d changed his mind, Five started kissing again, your oversized sweatshirt hood falling over your heads.

Going at it hard, with his hands latched on your ass, Five dry humped you into the wall, not even stopping when the door across from you flung open. Coming to your senses only slightly, you shoved Five backwards, forcing him into the men’s room.

Your adrenaline was pumping hard, and your heart was racing as the door closed behind you.

Five came at you again. Your hands went around him as he grabbed a handful of your ass, nearly lifting you off the floor. He pinned you to the wall again, his cock slamming between your legs.

His hands ran down your sides, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he kissed and sucked your collarbone, trailing teeth and kisses gently up your neck.

Breathing heavily as you momentarily broke apart, Five anxiously said, “You need to tell me to stop if this is too much, okay?”

You didn’t reply verbally, instead you kept kissing him. Five groaned into the kiss and pushed your crotches together with more determination.

Miraculously for as busy as the bar was, the bathroom was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. Not even breaking apart, you walked Five backwards again, moving him inside the largest bathroom stall. Thankfully it didn’t appear that dirty, but again, you weren’t really looking.

You kicked the door closed, hand only leaving Five long enough to twist the lock. Lips coming off your neck, Five’s eyes trailed up and down your taller frame. He reached out as you cornered him, brushing some of your hair away from your ear while his other hand snuck between your legs and squeezed your crotch. Looking pleased with himself and what he was feeling, he tilted his head to kiss your neck while he rubbed his hand over your clothed sex repeatedly.

In return, you moved your hand over his dick again, unzipping and then tugging his pants down. His cock sprung forward with no underwear to prevent it from happening.

Naturally you both looked down, and wow did Five look proud as your eyes went wide.

“Impressed?” he asked.

“Hardly.”

He was clearly not buying that lie because fuck…

With no further ado, you lowered to your knees, and he watched you do it as if transfixed. Your hand wrapped around his ankle, then trailed up a bit further, before you stopped under his knee, rubbing lightly.

Five reactively opened his legs a little, and so did you in a futile effort to ease the slight feeling of friction you were experiencing against your briefs.  

You were buzzed and horny, and this was nuts, but fuck it. This was happening!

Five’s cock was already leaking. You licked your lips and positioned yourself. With the hand not already holding him, you reached out and gave his long cock a tentative pump, spreading the precum around with your thumb. He pulled back a little.

“You okay, big shot?” you teased.

A smile crept onto Five’s face, but his voice came out so broken it caught you off guard. “You don’t have to do this.”

Okay… Maybe he was nervous, that was fair, especially if all his arrogance was just a show and what he said about being inexperienced was true, but considering how he had just been all over you, and now you were on your knees in a bathroom stall with his dick in your face, you looked up at him in disbelief as you said, “I know I don’t have to do this. I want to. Now stop being so damn frustrating and let me suck your dick!”

It was as if something in him snapped, the darkness in Five’s eyes smoldered as he purred, "Just remember, pretty boy, you asked for it. I am going to fuck your face so hard you’ll think twice before smarting off to daddy again.”

Holy fuck that was fucked but it only made you wetter.

Just then, someone walked in, going straight to the urinals. Your heads both flung that way. If they looked behind them, they for sure would see Five’s shoes lined up against your knees. There was no question what was happening, and even more turned on by that, you started stroking Five gently as you could while playfully sticking out your tongue to lick up the glistening fluid running down his shaft.

Falling back against the partition between the stalls, Five’s head made a hilariously loud thunking sound.

You kept at it, kissing the slit of his rounded tip, working it in a circular pattern. Five let out the quietest hum of approval as his fingers at his sides clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

You kept toying with him, enjoying how he was struggling to stay quiet, but only until the door closed and you were alone again, then he brought his hand to your cheek.

You looked up as his hand moved into your hair. “You look so good with your mouth on my cock.”

To that, the throbbing between your legs had you tensing your thighs to increase the sensation but it wasn’t enough and you let out a moan of complaint over it that made the darkness in Five’s eyes look all the more wicked with delight.

You put his whole tip in your mouth, opening and closing your kiss reddened lips around it, grazing it just barely with your teeth. From above, Five let out a moan as his hand in your hair moved, brushing your fringe of hair out of your face.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you and God did you love it.

He was letting out breathy sighs and grunts as you serviced them, his free hand pushing back through his hair the more agitated he got.

Wanting to send him over the edge, with the hand you were holding him with, slowly pumping him at just the tip, you leaned in even more, letting the musky scent of him fill your senses as your tongue ran along his balls. You were rewarded for that with a deep groan and an unsteady hand coming to the top of your shoulder.

That was all the praise you needed.

“Fuck yeah,” Five hissed, then he bit down on his lower lip, as you took him in your mouth, moving over him just little deeper and faster.

Almost right away, Five started rocking his hips in strained, shallow nudges. Each time he entered you and hit the back of your throat, he’d break apart a little more, and you swore you’d never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

Petting you, and making your hair all sorts of fucked up, Five encouragingly murmured “You are so fucking good at this. Fuck- Ohh-ffffff-you’re amazing,” he gasped.

Even though it was happening, you could hardly believe you were seeing this normally composed man turning into such a stuttering, red-faced mess.

Tipping your head back and opening your throat to him, the thick head of Five’s cock moved inside with ease, fucking you deep and hard enough in quick but controlled thrusts that it took away your ability to breathe.

Your eyes instantly began to water.

“Fu-ck-ye-ah-take-my-dick,” Five stammered as he wildly fucked into you.

The door opened again, the music getting louder for a moment before it shut again. This time there were several guys in there, but between the sound of them pissing, and their talking, and the thrum of the bass coming from outside, it still wasn’t enough to hide Five’s sharply cut off breaths and curses.

They knew, but the way Five’s eyes kept drooping closed proved his brain was no longer running the show and he didn’t care.

His fingers gripped tighter, yanking at your hair. You took the abuse, gagging on him until Five suddenly clasped his hands on the sides of your face, stopping you. “I’m gonna-cum,” he quietly cried.

He had a panicked look in his eyes. His teeth were clenched, and it was clear he was trying so hard not to orgasm, but it was coming one way or another, even with the guys outside your stall snickering and making lewd comments.

“Fuck yeah you are, and you’re going to do it my mouth,” you commanded, right before sucking him raw again, taking him all the way to the hilt.

Losing all self control, Five started railing your face again.

You couldn’t breathe at all, and were choking on your own spit. Your fingers dug into his thighs as your body instinctively fought back, but Five held the back of your head tight, forcing you down on him over and over.

Then, while violently scrambling your brains with his throbbing cock, hot spurts of Five’s seed started shooting down your throat. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he dug his heels into the floor. He fell back against the wall again. The waves of his shuddering release came out in a cadence of grunted curses as he moved himself in and out of your gaping mouth, moving slower and slower with each thrust until he was spent.

Having dumped his load, he started to slide out. Getting oxygen again, your blurred eyes took in the sight above you as you gave his well worked shaft a few more loving licks and twirls of your tongue. Sure that you just blew his mind, you popped your mouth off and smirked.

Five’s doe eyes were only slightly open and the dreamy way he was looking down at you was priceless.

~~~

Five was temporarily out of commission but you were both still horny as fuck as you burst out in the cool night air onto the sidewalk. Both riding the high, you fully intended to take your fun back to one of your apartments. As worked up as you were, coming out of that bathroom, hand-in-hand, quickly cutting through the crowded bar, your discussion hadn’t gone much past both of you smiling like idiots, but you knew the night wasn’t over, that was until you saw Klaus.

“Five?” he questioned, sounding totally shocked to see him as he approached from the opposite direction with his colorful meditation robe bundled around him.

Five slowed to a stop, back peddling a little. You looked from him to your friend, as his hand slipped from yours.

“Hey there, little brother,” Klaus said, “Would have never thought I’d see you out this late. What’s this?” He pointed at you with one of his latex covered gloves, the motion exposing his usual weird bubble wrap inner padding system that he liked to keep secured around him, so as he put it, he didn’t die while accidentally getting run over. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” Klaus added as he waved the hand holding his Styrofoam cup between the two of you.

It was subtle, but Five moved away from you a little more as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying even harder to hide that he’d been touching you.

Looking very uncomfortable, Five cleared his throat. “Well, Klaus, what with the nature of my employment, I am known to leave my apartment from time to time, and it’s not like I see you that often, so you wouldn’t know that. I also wasn’t aware that I needed to keep you updated with who my acquaintances are.”

Five looked at you for the briefest of moments, no indication of the sweet guy he had been in his now hardened eyes.

“We live in the same building,” Five irritatedly furthered, as he looked at Klaus again. “Happened to run into each other a bit ago while picking up dinner, so yeah… That’s it.”

“You guys going anywhere else fun? I’d love to join you, catch-up on life before the big family reunion b-day party next weekend.” Klaus held up his drink again. “This tea is amazing. I got it at a place about a block down. I’ll buy you guys one,” he pushed as you silently tried not to let it show how confused you were.

You’d met Klaus over a year before while at a park. He was there alone, sitting under a shady tree, legs crossed, eyes closed while positioned in namaste, when one of your friends threw a frisbee that glided over and clocked him in the side of the head, which was the only part of him not covered with protection from germs or flying projectiles.

Running over to apologize, from that point on, you’d been friends with the slightly odd, but always interesting spiritualist. The fact that Klaus was Five’s older brother, one of the other six orphans he’d told you he’d grown up with, was as crazy and unsettling as the way Five was acting all of a sudden.

As if you weren’t already feeling like shit, then Five said, “No thanks. I’ll have to pass on the tea. I have work to do at the office. I’ll see you around.”

“You still doing cool secret government stuff?” Klaus questioned, but Five didn’t answer him, or specify if he meant he’d see you around, or just his brother, then he strode off, his breath a plume of white in the night air as he quickly rounded the corner like he couldn’t get away quick enough.

~~~

The work week came and went, and you didn’t run into Five again, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought about him about a million times.

Of course, you asked Klaus about him, and he asked you about you and Five. Klaus said that his brother was super secretive. He said that he thought Five worked for the government in some capacity, but really, he wasn’t sure, but you were pretty sure that was a lie.

Klaus said Five was a loner and that he didn’t get out socially that much, so he was floored when he saw him laughing and smiling, walking down the street with you, and that part you figured was true.

When Klaus pressed you about Five, you could tell that he knew you were lying when you went along with Five’s story, by not giving him anything new, other than you’d eaten dinner with him since you both happened to be sitting at the same bar.

You said you were being neighborly. That was it.

You both weren’t telling the whole truth, and you both knew it.

As much as you wanted to tell someone how mad you were about what Five had done, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his older brother. The way Five played you was dirty, but you weren’t the type to start shit.

Five was a prick. End of story.

You didn’t know if he was ashamed of people knowing about him being with you, or it was just his family knowing about it, or if he just used you to get off and that’s all it ever was.

It didn’t matter.

You felt so stupid because you had felt like you had something real with him, something that was maybe a bit too much based on an intense sexual attraction and a shared craving to one up the other with cocky remarks and flirty jokes, but there was also something else. When you were with Five, it felt like you were all that he could see. And even more important, he saw you how you wanted to be seen.

You wanted to get lost in him and the feeling seemed to be mutual, but you were wrong.

What Five did hurt. There was no other way to put it.

When you came and went from your place, a part of you wanted to run into him, and another part of you never wanted to see him again. Some days when you couldn’t stop thinking about that asshole’s smile and those dark lashes of his fanning his pale cheeks, you contemplated going up a floor to kick his door in, to either jump his bones or kick him in the nuts, maybe both.

You didn’t.

It had been a long day, and the last thing you wanted was to go out. You were planning on having over a group of guys to watch a horror movie marathon. It was going to be a mixed group, old friends and Klaus.

Klaus always seemed lonely, too obsessed with keeping himself from getting sick or avoiding quicker, more gruesome forms of death, so you weren’t about to leave him out. He needed to get outside of his head and so did you. Klaus was someone that needed a friend and you were happy to bring him into your fold, even if he often remained quiet, or nervously excitable. He could be so hot and cold, and so detached, and something about that reminded you of Five.

They were brothers, so…

No. 

No, you were not going there.

Fuck Five.

You dropped some bags of chips and other junk food on the table in front of the couch, busying yourself with getting things ready for your guests, rather than wasting your time thinking about Five.

Life goes on, your friends showed up and as usual, Klaus was late, but when he knocked on your door with his brother in tow, you naturally did a double take because you were so floored.  

“Mind if I join you?” Five sheepishly asked while handing you a bottle of very expensive looking Scotch, the same brand he kept buying you at the bar.

There you were, wearing your favorite sweats and frumpy faded t-shirt, and there he was, looking amazing as always in his slim fit white dress shirt and usual black slacks, but gone was the self-assured guy who strutted into your life and then stomped on your dick.

He looked so nervous and unlike himself that all you could bring yourself to do was take the bottle as you nodded your head, stepping aside to let them in.

Klaus came waltzing in, minus his usual bubble wrap bumper vest, which you assumed he left at Five’s apartment before coming down to yours. He instantly took his place on your recliner since you’d abandoned it.

“Since, my dearest little brother lives in your building and you two are friends, I figured I’d stop by and see if he wanted to join us,” he explained, clearly aware that you weren’t thrilled. “With how chummy you two looked the other night, I was surprised that you hadn’t already plucked Five out of his boring man cave,” he added while wagging his eyebrows at you.

“Funny, when inviting my friends over, thinking anything about Five and our chumminess totally slipped my mind,” you muttered, as you glared at the jerk you did not want there who was still expectantly staring at you.

The asshole was standing there on your door mat, looking about as clueless as ever, so you waved him on. “Don’t just stand there. Come on in. Join the party. We’re about thirty minutes into the first ‘Scream’ movie.”

“Are you sure this is, okay?” Five quietly asked, clearly not wanting anyone else to hear as you shut the door behind him.

“Why wouldn’t it be,” you shot back, the anger in your voice impossible to hide.

“It’s not what you think. I am sorry,” he tried.

“Whatever,” you snapped. “Hey, Klaus!” He looked up with his mouth full of popcorn. “Introduce your brother, please.”

After dismissing him, with no other choice Five walked out to meet your friends.

Entering your kitchen, you got down some tumblers to pour everyone a glass of Five’s ‘you sucked my dick and then I rejected you,’ peace offering or whatever the fuck it was supposed to be.

“Gentleman, my ass,” you breathed before coming out to the living room with your hands full of the sloshing liquid.

Of course, there was nowhere to sit but next to him on your L-shaped couch. Five was at the hooked end, doing his best to look somewhat comfortable.

Like before they came, mostly everyone ignored the addition to the party as they zoned out, watching the movie, making comments here and there. As it was before, everyone was just chilling, lounged out on your furniture. Deputy Duey was being a dipshit that you couldn’t help but love, and terrified girls with big tits, and stupid horny guys ran for their life, screaming as the ghost-faced killer sliced and diced them.

It would have been great, exactly what you needed, but Five’s presence was making it anything but relaxing for you. He was so close; you could feel the heat of his leg next to yours as the silent tension between you grew. The way he was bouncing his knee made it clear he wasn’t feeling very comfortable either, but fuck him.

Nearing the end, when the masks came off, Five’s agitation had gotten noticeably worse. He could hardly hold still. You could tell he wasn’t okay. His hand laying against his leg was shaking. Not even thinking, you reached over, placing yours over it.

His breath hitched as he looked at you. “Excuse me,” he whispered, abruptly pushing himself up off the couch.

As he passed, Klaus gave his brother a worried glance, but you told him to stay put as you got up to follow Five.

Coming around the partition dividing your small living space, you saw that Five had himself leaned back against your kitchen counter, head down, pinching his forehead between two fingers.

“Not enjoying the movie?” you sarcastically asked.

Five pulled in a long breath AS he looked up at you. “I am afraid that as an ex-assassin, there is something about these tragically misguided young men happily stalking their prey before slicing them apart with blunt objects that hits a little too close to home.”

You blinked rapidly. “You’re kidding?”

His lip quirked up. “Not entirely.”

“Ah-huh,” you breathed before taking a long pull of your drink while glancing around the corner at the TV in the other room.

“At least part of the motivation for these two bonehead murderers being their secret love affair made this otherwise less than thrilling teen slasher film less boring,” Five furthered, seemingly a little less upset, almost playful as he smiled a little more when you looked at him again.

“What! NO! I love this movie,” you argued, forgetting that you hated him, even playing up how offended you were by his comment over your favorite scary movie. “And hell yes, them being mad as fuck for each other makes this better,” you agreed, followed by a laugh.

Five’s smile fell. “I wish I hadn’t done what I did the other night.”

“Then why did you?”

He ran his hand back, pushing his hair out his eyes, but it fell right back. “Because, when it comes to my family, it’s complicated, and not even factoring them into my life, I don’t know how to be with anyone, and I don’t know if I should be with anyone with the way I am anyway.”

“I don’t get it. If you’re ashamed-"

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, then he raised his voice. “I don’t care if the entire world knows how I feel about you!”

Klaus had been talking, but hearing that, the other room got very quiet.

“You are the first person I want to open myself to like this, or who has ever made me feel this way,” Five said, coming to you, his hands finding yours at your sides as he leaned into you. “I still want this more than anything, I just messed up because I am messed up.”

Coming closer, his lips touched yours so softly for just a fraction of a second. His eyes like gems, implored you-asking forgiveness.

“Since the other night, other than hating myself, I have wanted nothing more than to see your smile again,” he whispered, “even though what I did made it seem like I don’t care about you, that is about the farthest thing from the truth. Will you give me a second chance to show you how much you mean to me?”

You were pretty sure you couldn’t have made your lips form the word no, no matter how hard you tried.

“Are you sure you’re not embarrassed about this?” you questioned, your fingers making soothing circles along the undersides of his wrists.

Five smiled again. “I’m sure.”

“Prove it.”

“You forgive me then?”

“I’m working on it, but you have a lot of making up to do.”

Five’s hand moved around to your lower back, sliding up the back of your shirt, pulling you closer. You nudged his nose with yours.

“Like I said, prove it,” you softly repeated, daring him to show you that he meant what he said about not caring if his family or anyone else knew.

Five glanced over your shoulder, as if he could see your guests even though there was a wall in the way. His hand moved along your hip, slipping below the waistband of your sweatpants. “What do you have in mind for how I can prove it to you, handsome?”

He plucked the knot in your drawstring free, pulling the bunched cotton at your waist, loosening it so his hand could slip inside your pants.

“This, maybe?” he hummed against your ear, his fingers just under the elastic of your briefs.

You looked back at him with pleading eyes.

“Your bedroom is right over there but you want it right here, don’t you dirty boy?” he taunted.

There was no time for a comeback, only a shuttered breath before Five’s hand dove lower and you gasped at the sudden feeling of his finger abruptly entering you.

A devilish smile lit up Five’s face. “Awww… Wet for me already? Such a good boy,” he chuckled as his finger began to move, lovingly stroking the lubrication upwards.

You lowered your head against his neck, your body already tightening with pleasure from the feel of his finger rubbing against your clit.

Five kissed your forehead as you clung to him, his words tickling the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Wanna give our audience a show? You were amazing the other night, but I’m sure if we both try really hard, we can do better this time.”

You whimpered, trying to put your thighs together so you could increase the friction. Five brought another finger into the game trailing his digits up and down before flicking them against you, making you let out a small moan.

A shout came from the other room. “Hey! While you guys are in there, you should make some more popcorn!”

Twisting just enough, you snatched a bag of microwave pop off the counter, furiously tearing into the plastic with your teeth before spitting it out. You reached back, yanking the microwave open, carelessly tossing it in there without looking.

After you slammed the door shut, while smiling at you looking so fucking cocky, Five helpfully reached up, punching in the popcorn button before he hit start. He raised a brow. “Looks like I better get to work. We have a countdown, sweetheart.”

Moving his fingers quickly, jerking you hard, you let out a low groan that got much higher pitched when you felt the warmth of his erection nudging your hip.

Riding Five’s glorious fingers, but thinking of him slowly entering you with his heavy cock instead had your eyes rolling back in your head. The agonizing pace he was setting making your moans of complaint louder.

“That’s it, baby, louder,” he encouraged, gazing at you with half lidded eyes that were so beautiful.

“I need more,” you hissed, gritting your teeth.

“So needy,” he teased, just before his finger dipped inside you again, only this time crooked up just a little before he pulled it out again.

Then, just as you thought the bastard was going to really start finger fucking you, he slipped his hand out of your pants leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. After your waistband snapped against your tensed abs, Five brought his slicked finger to his mouth, making a naughty show of sucking it clean.  

“I fucking hate you!” you growled.

If he tried to leave you with blue balls again, you were going to kill him!

Five gave you a sly grin and you frowned. “I’m going to make you take that back,” he menacingly sang, then suddenly your pants and underwear were tugged down, and your legs were forcefully spread open by his knees wedging yours wide.

His hands come up your sides, moving under your shirt, over your rib cage. His eyes looked into yours, watching you for signs of distress as his fingers moved up, traveling over the flattened planes of your pecs.

You closed your eyes and you felt Five rest his forehead against yours.

His hand smoothed down to your hips again, stopping.

You took a deep breath.

“You are the most handsome man I have ever seen,” he breathed, throwing you off even more.

To say your senses were heightened was an understatement. Every sound your friends made in the other room only added to the tension brewing. All they had to do was come around the corner and they could see you back up against your counter with Five dominatingly standing between your legs as your pants and underwear lay in a heap at your ankles.

Five moved his forehead away from yours. “I will stop if you want me to. If not, you know what to say,” he soothed. “You want me to suck you off, right here. Right now. With them listening.”

 Little explosions started to go off inside the microwave.

 You had never been so hot and bothered in your life. You moaned desperately, “Five, you fucking-!"

"Shh...” Five teased as his hand moved up over your mouth to silence you. "Can’t have you getting too loud. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m in here doing awful things to you.” He leaned in, his breath ruffling the short ends of your hair, his words ominously intimidating. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please,” you whimpered under his hot fingers.

"Sorry, what was that?" Five asked, sweet as honey while moving his hand a little so you could say it louder.

“Please!”

“That’s it.” Five’s sinful looking grin spread across his entire face.

He got down on his knees. Not taking his eyes off you, he pushed up your t-shirt just a little so he could leave a trail of wet kisses along the fine trail of hair leading from your belly button downward.

He let out a heavy breath, hovering over your sex. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” he said, then his tongue drug along your length before flicking against the tip of your swollen clit.

“Oh, FUCK,” you loudly cursed.

You tried to relax and keep your hips still as Five licked at you slowly, but with the way his tongue was pushing between your thickened folds it was impossible

A bitten whimper croaked out of you as he licked up a stripe while slowly palming his own dick. You lowered to your head, your fingers threading through his hair, tightening.

You gasped when Five began sucking you. His hum of approval and the sting of pleasure from his teeth accidentally dragging as he sucked a little too roughly, left your thighs shaking and the next thing you knew, you were grinding down on him trying to get more.

Undeterred, by you humping his face, Five continued to contentedly lap at you. At this point, you didn’t know what to focus on, the pleasure that was tearing through your veins, the screams coming for movie, the people who could come in the kitchen at any second, or the fact that there was no way Five was able to breathe correctly with the way he was going at it, his whole face buried between your legs, fucking you.

Everything clouded over. His hands were plastered to your thighs, his hair was sticking out in a million places, and his tongue kept probing inside your entrance, devouring you before he came back up to harshly flick at your clit again.

Your body fought against the invasive sensation. Vulgar noises were being forced out of you, but you couldn’t cum no matter how badly you wanted to.

The microwave beeped.

“I-I fff-fu-ah-ck,” you stammered as you tugged at Five’s dark waves, attempting to separate your throbbing sex from his mouth, but he wasn’t having any of that.

He grasped your waist, holding you in place, hungrily demolishing you. He was like an animal, the scratchiness of his very light stubble only adding to the brutality of what he was doing to you.

It felt like every nerve in your body was being touched at once. You were being torn apart more and more with each trail of his tongue and rub of his fingers, pinching and pulling you between forefinger and thumb as he sucked your clit like a dick.

As your orgasm hit, it felt electric, a flash after flash of hot white light.

Five made you cum so hard that you totally forgot that he was fisting his own cock, but he sure was, and he was loudly moaning while doing it and still sucking you with the most tender of kisses, making sure not to leave you until you’d ridden out all your crashing waves of pleasure.  

When he finally came up for air, his face from his eyes down was shining and his smug grin proved that he could have cared less that he was a mess.

 “So, did you enjoy cumming on my face?” he rhetorically questioned.

He lifted himself off the ground, staring at you as he leaned in, connecting your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

“I am not sure. It was okay, I guess,” you said, smirking when he pulled away, wiping his face and then yours with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Maybe one more try, with a little more tongue and teeth this time and you’ll have a more definitive answer?” he suggested.

He started to drop back down, and even though your body felt like jello, you pulled him back up easily enough.

As you were reaching to pick up your pants, Five took advantage of you dropping your guard to quickly spin you around, your socked feet slipping on the floor before he aggressively pulled your hips out, making you present your ass to him.

You heard him hastily unhooking his belt, the metal clanking together before you heard his zipper coming down, then his body molded to your backside, the tip of his thick cock dangling between your legs.

“We aren’t done and I’m not stopping until they know you’re mine,” he said while lovingly massaging the side of your ass.

He started nudging himself against your inner thigh and you let out a little whimper. “So cute, just like your little dick,” he mocked. Then he moved his hand around you, tugging you out a little more from the counter so he could grope you, making you shudder.

He slapped your ass hard, the thwack sure to make everyone’s head in the other room spin in your direction. You jolted up. You heard your friends laughing, then Five spanked you again. "Fuck!” you cried, moving your ass against his cock even tighter.

“You really want it, don’t you baby,” Five growled in your ear, slapping your ass again.

“Please!" you begged with your head falling back against Five’s shoulder before rolling to the side so you could see him.

“You want danger?” he purred as he yanked up his shirt, letting his predatory eyes narrow at the sight of his cock wedged between your cheeks.

You said nothing, so, looking like a mad man, he reached up, taking hold of your neck.

You whined and squirmed in his grasp as his other hand cupped you bare. He slid his fingers inside as his thumb swirled over your slippery clit. Before you could make a sound, he started to choke you. 

He fingered your hole roughly, as he cut off the flow of oxygen to your brain. You couldn’t even think. You were drowning with desire, your body submitting.

Five started to rut his hips into you as you lost your mind, moaning into the palm of his hand.

That’s when Klaus called out. “How’s that popcorn coming, boys? Better not be any dick in it!”

As Five fucked into you and his second finger slide inside, you all but screamed through his fingers. “Mmmfff-fuck, Ff-ive!”

If Five hadn’t thought to muzzle you, you were being so loud, it wouldn’t just be the people in the living room aware of what he was doing to you.

As if that wasn’t enough, Five bit down on your shoulder through your shirt, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could go.

You felt your orgasm building all the way from your toes to your stomach. Your calves painfully flexed as you bucked your hips, trying to get more.

Five let out a moan of his own, and the pleasure of his fingers, the dizziness of being choked, along with the pain from his teeth marking had you clenching around his fingers.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of squelching, your moans, and Five’s sexy grunting.

Yanking your face back, he took his hand off your mouth, forcing his tongue onto yours, aiming to take you for all you were worth.

Your walls contracted around him, spilling fresh liquid pleasure with his every thrust.

His breath and his movements started getting more erratic, and he let out a few manic sounding noises.

He only stopped slipping his dick up and down your crack for a second to reposition himself. Apparently, the new angle was even better for him because when he started back up, his fingers in you started to move again too and that got you cursing and gasping into his hand again.

"Good boy. Let it out. Your pussy is mine now,” he growled, but he didn’t let you let it out as he clamped down on your mouth harder and slammed into you with all the energy he had.

You peaked again, him clinging to you, your stifled gasps hissing through his fingers.

“So perfect,” he breathed, then he let you free, the air filling your lungs doing nothing to clear your clouded mind and you helplessly slumped over.

One of his hands kept a tight hold on your hip, the other taking care of his own need. The sight of you bent over on the counter in front of him had Five grunting and growling as he stroked himself, his cum splattering all over your abused ass.

When Five was done, he crashed into you, pulling you up in a lovers embrace from behind, panting harder than he had been the entire time. The second he had enough air to speak, he did. “That was- Fuck."

You were out of it, legs shaking, mouth agape, head lolling to the side. He grabbed your face and languidly kissed you before breaking away, his lips moving along your sweat moistened neck as he said, “I want you and only you and I don’t care who knows. Don’t you ever question that again.”

“Ready or not, the men out here are demanding a proof of life check after that beautiful screaming performance, and we need more sustenance, so pull your pants up! I am coming in,” Klaus suddenly shouted.

Scrambling, you and Five both untangled yourselves. He snatched your hand towel off the counter, taking it to your butt cheeks, doing his best to wipe you first, then himself.

Dropping to the floor, he started pulling your sweatpants up, then sure you had them in hand, Five started trying to fix his own rumpled clothing.

“Is my little brother behaving himself?” Klaus questioned and by the way he said it, you could tell he had a huge smile even before he rounded the corner, eyeing you both up proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Five fired back, with his pants only just zipped up, the ends of his belt hanging in front of the prominent tent he was still sporting. 

“Oh, I don’t know… Sounded like you were getting a little frisky in here is all,” Klaus replied.

Five reached over, opening the microwave, throwing the bag of popcorn at his brother.

As one would expect, Klaus started tossing the bag, hand to hand. “Ouch! Hot! Hot!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. That’s how mind blowingly dazed you were. You could tell it took a great deal of effort for Five to pry himself from you and you were still having a hard time standing up straight, so you had no idea how he was composing himself so well but then again, he didn’t just cum three times.

“If only I could blink us out of here,” he muttered while sticking the prong of his belt through the length, tightening it as he looked at you fumbling the strings on your sweatpants.

“Blink?” you questioned, unable to stop laughing as you said it because for the life of you, you couldn’t perform the simple task of tying a knot.

“What my adorable brother is referring to,” Klaus said, “is a thing we used to call a thing he used to do.” He reached out, ruffling Five’s already fucked up hair. “He’s super fast, but you already knew that,” he said while winking at you, “He used to be able to blink or as the common man says, telapor-"

“If you don’t shut your yapper, I am going to shut it for you,” Five snapped, while reaching over to tie your pants up since you’d failed and they were already slipping down.

“Oh… Not going there yet. Okay,” Klaus said as he shrugged off whatever Five was angrily trying to get him to shut up about. “You two joining us for the second movie?” Klaus mumbled with a handful of freshly popped kernels in his mouth.

You looked at Five. He took you by the hand, grabbing the bottle of liquor off the counter in his other, leading you out there.

Moving to your spot on the couch, Five sat down first, pulling you down next to him. As soon as you were seated, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter, his lower leg hooking yours to him as he took your throw blanket, tossing it over you both.

“So, you guys a thing now,” your buddy next to him asked while giving you a smart-ass grin.

Five glanced at you. He squeezed his hand that was already in yours. “Yes,” you firmly stated and just like the amazing friends they were, they all let it go. They could see this is what you wanted. It was written all over your hopeful face.

You leaned back against Five’s warmth, the comforting rise and fall of his chest reassuring you that everything was as perfect as it seemed.

Every so often, as his fingers absentmindedly trailed down your arm, Five would softly kiss the side of your cheek, then nuzzle his face into your hair.

~~~

When you woke, hours later to one of your friends leaving and Five attempting not to wake you as he quietly answered something his brother had just said, you had no idea what time it was.

“Klaus was planning on staying at my place,” Five whispered. “We have that family birthday thing early in the morning and we are riding together.” He slid you out from under him. “You want me to carry you to your room?” he asked, as he righted himself.

“I doubt you could,” you said back while smiling up at him in the dim light as you stretched your legs out, accidentally kicking your zonked out friend who was sprawled out on the other end of the couch.

“Goodnite,” Klaus whispered, before he went out the door.

Swooping down, Five gently kissed you and kept on kissing you until you started to laugh over how obviously he didn’t want to go. “Best night of my life,” he chuckled, his own smile stretching as he finally pulled away. “I’ll be back sometime early afternoon. Can I see you again?”

Stroking your fingers along his jaw, you whispered back, “You better.”

Five’s tired eyes softened even more. He brushed his lips against yours one more time.

Then he was gone.

~~~

Back to reality, your mind lost in a past that doesn’t exist anymore while your body remains stuck in a present form of hell you can’t escape, lying there in your bed, you keep trying to work through your memories of Five.

For his part, like he always does at night, Five stays with you in the only way he feels that he can, over 60 years of time separating you as he sits in his chair in front of the Infinite Switchboard.

After thrashing around in your blankets, reliving things you don’t want to let go, giving into your body’s most primal urges, you shove your hand in your pants, digging your fingers against your clit, tugging and pulling and rubbing. Breathing heavily, your release comes and goes way too fast, giving you nothing to replace the man you refuse to let go.

Finally, worn out and mentally broken, your breathing slows, and your eyes close.

You fall into a fitful sleep, your face pinched with the same stress it’s had since you entered your apartment earlier that night.

A few minutes before this, with his reddened eyes darting around as he tries to squash his own anguish, trying in vain to convince himself that what he’s seeing isn’t because of him, Five throws his arms down on the messy desk space, burying his face in the fold of his arm.

You’re upset, that much he is willing to admit.

You have old news clippings of him and his faded collector cards, and other silly trinkets from the days the Umbrella Academy meant something to the world.

You only have his.

Going through the list of issues in his head, Five comes up with only more problems with all this.

All that is something, but it's not like you would be harboring some old crush on the nerdy little 13-year-old he was in those pictures, because back when those cards were cool, you were only four years old! Back then, you probably didn't even know your address, let alone who the kids who lived at the Umbrella Academy were. But despite that, you clearly have something going on and it’s clearly aimed at him.

You moan repeatedly as the blankets covering you shuffle.

“Fuck…” Five breathes as he looks up, realizing what you are doing.

What you have going on is clearly at least partially a horny thing, and an angry thing, and fuck, fuck, FUCK!

Five can’t stop looking at you writhing against your hand.

He shifts his legs apart, refusing to give his hardening cock the attention it's screaming for. It’s bad enough that he’s watching you jerk off, but doing that with you, like this…

No.

“God damn it!” he curses, kicking his legs out, throwing his hands back behind his head as he forces himself to look at the floor.

No one else remembers, so there is no way you do! 

This has to be something else causing this, right?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks back up. Your breaths are slowing. Your hand slips up along your stomach, laying limply against your t-shirt.

Your eyes stay closed and Five wants so badly to kiss the lids covering them. Since he can’t, he does what he’s always done, he imagines the things he wants.

Shutting his own eyes, he imagines himself there with you, protectively folded around you, your bodies illuminated by the muted silhouettes from the leaves fluttering outside in the canopy of trees outside your window. 

He can almost feel himself kissing the moonbeam dancing across your cheek, flickering along the ridge of your nose-almost.

There’s no warmth to this dream, no sensation of your touch lovingly holding him back.

This is all there had ever been for Five for nearly a lifetime, but now, thanks to you, he knows what it’s like to have something real, and now he is drowning in the shocking reality of his endless loneliness.

Chilled, but unwilling to move to an office to throw himself down on something more comfortable, when his breathing melts into a rhythm of rest, Five floats away with you, going into a nightmarish dreamscape, a place moments before the world fell apart and he lost you.

~~~

As your sleep deepens, you start tossing and turning, your mind projecting images of you bursting out the doors of your apartment. You didn’t care how terrified you were or that you had no weapon to defend yourself against whatever was happening. You had to get to Five.

You took off, sprinting down the sidewalk in the direction of the explosions, rather than in the opposite direction like everyone else was doing.

The sky was casting a strange glow of orange and violet light over everything. It looked like an alien landscape, not the loud city with its shops and business filled with people doing normal things, unless you considered running for their life normal.

You knew it was crazy for you of all people to think you could do anything to help, but it was also crazy that the Five apparently had superpowers, but you'd seen it for yourself on your TV, and the people with him did too.

You kept on, moving along, seeing the destruction getting worse the closer you got to where the news had shown the fighting.

The air near the ground was thick with black smoke as you got closer, but you kept going, knowing from what you’d seen on the news that Five was there, but nothing could have prepared you for it when you rounded a corner and saw all of them. Like some kind of science fiction movie on crack, everywhere you looked, unexplainable things were happening that shouldn’t be.

It was madness, all of it, the way Five was disappearing and reappearing, the way they were shooting laser beams from their eyes and throwing cars like they were nothing. Klaus was there too, like some kind of oracle, casting his hands out, making phantom-like figures appear out of nowhere, all the luminous bodies he’d created readily joining the fight.

Either brave or stupid, you started to cross the battlefield of flipped cars that lay between you and them, staying down, trying not to get hit by the barrage of bullets and other things flying in your direction.  

Five was yelling, calling for everyone to get together. He wasn’t okay, you could see that. He was staggering, trying so hard to stand in the storm that was enveloping him.

He fell to his knees, screaming for them. 

Blood smeared across his face as his hand came up, wiping his cheek. 

The blood was gushing from his nose and seeping down his neck from his ears, but he kept screaming for them. The near blinding light kept growing, extending out from his hands and entire body.

Between broken car windows, you watched as the group gathered around him, two of them looking like they were sending out some kind of force field that was keeping them safe from the bullets and the fire-like aura that was glowing down from the sky.

Then, to your horror, you realized the fire was actually coming from some of them. Their flesh was cracked and blackened, like lava was running under their skin.

They were burning. 

Five was burning!

Your voice cut through the air, penetrating the chaos. “FIVE!”

Just then, extreme pain was the only way to describe what you felt. 

A deafening blast sent you flying, slamming your spine against the door of an upside-down car. Pain radiated through you. You reactively curled in on yourself. You desperately clasped your hands over your ears, trying to block out the high-pitched sound that was trying to stab your brains out, but you painfully realized that the ringing wasn’t something you could stop.

You could hardly move, gasping for air that wouldn’t fill your lungs, but then suddenly Five was next to you, eyes wide, searching you over, saying something, but all you could see was his lips moving as his hands frantically moved over you, trying to cover all the places where your clothes were becoming wet with blooming circles of red.

You watched Five’s mouth repeating the words, “I will fix this.” He was saying it over and over.

Then, just like that, stinging pelts of liquid hit your face as the side of Five’s skull ripped open.

You watched as if in slow motion as the inside of his head spilled out like a macabre brain soup. Then you watched in horror as he tumbled over, your shell-shocked body not working fast enough to catch him.

The side of Five’s ashen face slammed into the glass covered concrete.

Scrambling to your knees, you pulled him to you, his broken head rolling limply in your lap as you screamed. 

Your tears mixed with his blood. 

You didn’t even notice Klaus until he was right there. He came sprinting to a stop a few yards away, seeing you and his brother.

“Help him,” you begged. You refused to take your eyes from Five’s, then Klaus took off, shouting something.

“No, no, no! Please, no!” you wailed as Five remained motionless, legs twisted in a way that made him look so small.

Five was not small. He was strong and he was…

He was everything.

Suddenly a wind from nowhere started whipping up tiny bits of debris from all around you. Looking up, you saw the impossible. There was a ghostly image of Five out in the street next to his brother where they were standing in a blue-ish purple electrical storm filled with glistening marigold, fire and light.

You could see Five over there, but he was also still with you, his warm blood matting his dark strands of hair, coating your fingers as you cradled his head as if you could fix the damage done to him if you willed the hole in him closed, but his empty green eyes continued to stare off at nothing.

The torrents of energy that Five had been violently projecting before he’d appeared over by you grew stronger, making it near impossible to make out anything happening over by them, but you were able to see him out there, lightning filled hands clenched like claws as fire like sparkles swirled around him and the strange static and twinkling lights of power weren’t just coming from Five. It was coming from all of them, as if mixing.

Dazed, and evidently not stable, they all simultaneously fell to their knees, but Five didn’t this time.

His face was no longer spattered with his blood as he looked up, past his siblings as they fell to the ground as if they were puppets whose strings had just been cut.

As your eyes met, it was as if you were seeing Five for the first time ever, seeing all versions of him, and it wasn’t just happening to him, though the ghostlike projections of Five were dramatically different compared to those of his siblings. He was older in some of them, but you were sure it was him, with that funny mustache and his same soft eyes.

Five was that man, and then he wasn’t again, he was just a boy, so young, so angry, nothing but skin and bones, his tormented face covered in ash and grime. 

All of them, all the different versions of them were morphing, snapping together with alternate images of themselves, like a flip book that’s pages clapped with thunder as they turned.

Then, out of nowhere, out of anyone who could have been out there in all that madness, Reginald Hargreeves, the richest man in the world, was towering over you. His expression was serene as he looked down at the dead boy you were crying over. Then he looked up, his expression not scared at all as he said, “Hold on to him. It will all be over soon.”

Bleeding out and going into shock, you looked back out at the other Five. Even in the distance, you could see his mouth. 

His mouth! The one you knew intimately, pulled up just a little as he gave you a dreamy smile, as if he was seeing something in all this that you couldn’t.

You screamed Five’s name as the ball of fire inside him began to consume what was left of his crumbling body.

“No!” you cried, but this time Five couldn’t hear it.

The bubble around them burst, life and death, creation and destruction, you, Five, all of it and time itself, all tied to him and the tale of rebirth, and it was coming for you in a wall of fire.

Your own terrified scream echoing inside your head was the last thing you heard.

Then you were all gone.

~~~

“NO!” You cry out, trying to free yourself from your knotted blankets. You’re in the darkness of your bedroom again, no longer holding Five’s dead body while you watched the ghost of him in the distance, being taken away by an otherworldly fire.

Your heart feels like it could rip out of your chest, it's pounding so hard.

Your hands come up, digging at your eyes as if you can make it all go away, but the heat of your tears is as real as the pain of losing him. “Please no,” you helplessly whimper as you pull your legs up under your arms so you can drop your head between your knees. “I need you, Five,” you sob, your body shuddering.

“I am here, please don’t cry, I am so sorry.”

Your head shoots up, your eyebrows flying halfway up your face, the thumping in your chest threatening to do you in as you blink, over and over, seeing Five right there, at the side of your bed, looking like he just woke up, but looking as beautifully disheveled in his three-piece suit as he always does.

“Ff-Five?” your voice cracks.

“Hey, handsome,” he quietly breathes as he sinks down on the bed next to you, his legs dangling over the side as he reaches over, gently brushing a sweat-dampened piece of hair out of your eyes.

“You you-you-"

“I know,” Five says, pulling you to him.

Arms around him, he squeezes you tight. You breathe in, your face buried against his collar because you’re still not sure he’s real.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but-” He stops, pulling back enough to make you look at him. His eyes glaze over in thought as he lets out a shaky breath. “No one else but us remembered, and I didn’t-" His teary words catch in his throat. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never should have-” A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I never should have let this happen, but nothing could have prepared me for you and how you made me feel, and I- Even if you remember me, I shouldn’t be here, but I heard you crying, and I had to-"

He tries to pull away.

“NO! Don’t you dare go!” You give Five’s shoulders a little shake, “Don’t you dare leave me again! And what the hell do you mean you heard me? Where were you, in my fucking closet!”

“No, I was pathetically hiding out in a musty old office building in 1955.”

“Okay- Okay-" Your heart is racing so hard you can’t think but that makes no sense. “What the fuck, Five!”

He lowers his face like he wants to disappear and that only makes you cling to him tighter.

“The place I am talking about, and my association with it is a long story,” he starts, “-and I promise I will tell you everything if you want me to, but the reason I was there now was because it’s the only place I could go to see you.” He looks up, his eyes filling. “There’s a machine I invented, it lets the operator dial in places and times. I have missed you so fucking much,” he rambles, clearly spiraling, but you refuse to let him go no matter how confused and mad you are.

“Look, the things you say are just- Yeah.” You let out a puff of air, shaking your head over all this craziness. “But I want you! I don’t care about the rest!"

“I’m not who you think I am. I have done so many horrible things,” he interrupts.

“Five, I know that you are so many more things than what I thought you were in the beginning, but I want all of them. I saw you! All of you! You had a mustache for Christ Sake! I know who you are!”

“You don’t know all of it,” he whispers.

“I don’t care! You saved us. I don’t understand it, but I know you did. You were the only one in the end before everything disappeared. I thought you were dead!”

“I know.”

“You told me that I’m the first person you wanted to open yourself up to,” you continue, “Did you mean it when you said that?”

His lower lip quivers as he nods. “I meant every word of it, and you are still all I want.”

“Then don’t leave me again!” you shout at him, pushing him down on your bed.

Five still looks totally lost but with your insistence, he surrenders himself to you heavily crawling on top of him.

Fully reclined, you throw your leg over his, coming down at his side to tuck your head under his chin, effectively detaining him but letting him breathe. You can hear his heart hammering in his chest as he looks down at you peering up at him. 

His eyes search yours he quietly asks, “Are you sure you still want this?”

“Yes, I am sure,” you insist.

His long fingers trace a line up your back, skating the surface of your shirt.

“Please talk to me, Five. I meant it when I said I want this with you more than anything.”

“Why?” he questions, sounding so dejected.

You sit up, straddling him so you can keep him trapped but also take him on, face to face. “Because even with all the crazy things you told me, knowing what I know now, I think you were telling me the truth about all of it, and you know what, I am not scared. I don’t care how old you are, or if you were an assassin. I don’t care what you’ve done to get here. All that matters is you are.”

“You mean that?” he whispers, reaching around you, his long fingers tracing a soothing line up your back.

You nod and his hand comes up, moving to the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a chaste kiss that ends all too fast.

You try to kiss him again but Five turns his head, squirming away, not letting you.

Your eyebrows come together in frustration.

“You know… For all my mistakes, I finally thought I had it all figured out, but then this…” His voice trails off as his hands move around your backside, grabbing your ass. “This never should have happened. You weren’t supposed to remember, but you evidently do, or you wouldn’t be trying to hump my leg because you know that getting me hard is going to help you get your way.”

You look down where your crotch is pinning his quad, and he laughs.

You’re just about to tell the asshole you are not trying to hump his leg when he says, “The reason I think you remember,” He cracks a sad smile, making him look so beautifully broken, “The reason you remembered, is because I fell in love with you. A part of you was with me in the end and I couldn’t let it go. You’re a part of me now whether you like it or not.”

“You love me?”

“More than anything.”

In the subsequent silence, your shoulders wither, a single thought floating among the sea of worries in your mind.

You love him too.

You come at him, there’s no stopping you from kissing him. Like you are doing to him, Five’s hands grasp at your body, everywhere they can reach, caressing, groping, pinching, anything to feel each other. 

Jutting your cunt across his thigh, you assault his lips, drawing your teeth across his pout in retribution for him thinking you wouldn’t want this.

Stroking his neck, his hands holding you in place, he moans as you grind his leg. Adding to your pleasure, Five begins exploring your neck with his tongue, tasting your skin, licking the sweat of your nightmare clean off as you rut into him, panting and gasping, filling the quiet of the small room.

Boldly sticking your hand down your pants, rubbing your cock, you lower your voice as deep as you can as you ask, “Did you watch me do this?”

“Yes,” Five rasps, his hands moving down, suddenly taking you by the waist. Like lightning striking, the air around you lights up, every nerve ending in your body comes alive as you’re flung through a swirling storm of sapphire, coming back to the present a millisecond later with your back slamming on your mattress.

Head still spinning, Five falls over you from the air, his body still glowing in his whirl of magical light. His irises dance with embers as he dives in, kissing your neck again.

“What. The Fuck Was That? Did you just teleport me?” you deliriously groan as he attacks you.

"No, I blinked you," he corrects, "It's a spontaneous reaction to having a very naughty boy trying to fuck my lap,” Five informs you with his lips at your earlobe, before kissing down, gnawing on your jaw, as he attempts to blindly unbutton his shirt.

Oh, my God, this man...

Not satisfied with the speed, you begin to help him, and his smile at your impatience is almost as hot as the sight of him laying over you, shrugging it off. Five is nothing but lean valleys of muscle, all pointing to the dangerous weapon he’s packing in his pants, but interestingly enough, his famous Umbrella Academy tattoo on his wrist isn’t the only tattoo he’s got.

Seeing geometrically balanced circles and lines criss-crossing in the middle of his chest must have you making the funniest looking face because Five starts laughing.

“This,” He points to the black and gray washes of ink marking him. “This is evidence of one of my many blunders through time, but it’s worth the pain and looking like a fucking idiot if it means I get to see you looking at me like that.”

You trace the lines. “You are beautiful, Five, all of you.”

“As long as you think so, because I think I’m stuck with it now,. I am a complete package of the old me, the young me, and the tattooed and very fucking horny me,” he says before much more seriously asking, "You ok taking yours off too?"

You nod and Five dips low, using his nose, he starts nudging your t-shirt shirt up. He playfully sucks and nips you all the way up to one of the darkened pink scars under your pecs. Your breath hitches as he traces a line over it with his fingertip, then slowly begins to kiss you there too, his teeth grazing your nipple for good measure.

“So perfect,” he hums, sending a direct signal from you’re the now hardened nub all the way down to your groin. 

As you’re reeling over him saying that and the feeling of him flicking his tongue across your other pec, Five’s hands start moving up your sides, slowly lifting your shirt over your head.

Your legs tense, fighting against the growing ache between them as Five kisses down your torso, marking you where the skin dips at your hip, the palm of his hand hot as it rests over your abs, firmly holding you down.

Already trembling, you let out a small cry of desperation.

Gazing up at you with his pupils blown dark with desire, Five tears open the button holding your jeans closed. Lifting for him, he pushes your remaining clothes down your flushed thighs.

With you fully naked, your bodies roll slightly as Five comes down on the bed next to you. You spread your legs and just as fast, he reaches between them, rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger.

You gasp your approval, “Fuck yeah, don’t stop.”

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Five groans, just below your ear, sending a shiver zipping up your spine as a gush of wet drips out of you. “I can’t get enough of your dick,” he says while playfully pecking your jaw.

“Same,” you gasp, your enlarged clit so sensitive, you can’t help but whine like a puppy when his hand starts to firmly rub it.

Your hand reactively grips his shoulder painfully hard the faster he goes, and his eyes narrow dangerously in response.

Knowing without words what you need, barely thirty seconds into it, two fingers start jabbing inside you, aiming at your sweet spot.

“Holy fuck,” you breath before Five can capture your mouth in a hard kiss again.

As your hips jerk into his hand, Five’s hand snakes down along your side to rub his own cock, all the while he never stops sucking at your neck or giving you needly little licks in between his kisses. Soon the nips get hard enough to make you throw your head back, thrashing.

With Five jerking himself, bucking against you, your hands grip at the sheets, hanging on for dear life as your walls start spasming.

Even though you’re flailing, moaning loud as your hips jerkily fuck into his fingers, you can hear that Five is humming all sorts of dirty things, the vibrations of his words against your throat sending your brain even further down the spiral of your fuckedy fuck land.

Having brought you over the edge, he pulls out. His hand on your thigh moves around you, gripping your ass to pull you in closer as he rolls on top of you.

Five licks at your lips before he slides his hands down to the back of your thighs to pick you up, grinding your crotch into his restrained shaft. “God, I want to fuck you so badly,’ he growls before crashing your lips together again.

Five’s powerful body bears down on you, the drag of his cock between your legs too much but also not enough. Encouraging him to keep up what he was doing, only with his pants off, you try to push his pants down, even as he’s still urgently rocking his hips into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his teeth grazing your neck as he gasps for air. His hips twitch to a stop at the feeling of his cock about to spring free.

“I want all of you, Five,” you breathe, holding his cheeks under your palms as you pull his head up, making him look at you.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything. I love you, Five.”

His soft eyes light up as if this wasn’t already obvious. He smiles down at you with an adoring look, caressing your face and pushing your hair aside as you blush under his loving gaze. He leans in to kiss along your jaw and down your neck as he scrambles to remove his pants with you helping him along, hooking your fingers under his tailored waistband, dragging them down his thighs, pushing them the rest of the way off with your feet.

“Oh Fuck,” Five groans as he lowers back down and his cock slips over the moist heat between your legs.

Instinctively, he starts to rut against you again. Before you can do more than hum a moan through your pinched lips, you feel the head of Five’s dick align with your throbbing hole. 

“Protection?” Five impatiently asks, coming to a full stop.

Drunk with desire, all you can do is shake your head no, but the message is clear. You don’t need it.

Tenderly squeezing your ass, with his eyes locked to yours and his voice barely above a whisper, Five asks, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe, keeping your fingers threaded in his thick dark hair, holding him in place with one hand, the other sliding from his muscular back to gripe his shoulder.

He starts to push slowly. “Aw fuck” you moan as just the head of his cock slips in. You throw your head into the pillow, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

Five’s warm breath slowly fans over your neck. He’s not moving a single inch. “Does it hurt?”

“It- It’s good,” you huff, letting out a tense breath as you lift your hips higher, letting him know you can take it.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, as your body tightens and quivers along the thick length slowly filling you.

Not even full deep, your brain feels like it’s just flashed on and off and it’s not at all working right.

"You’re so fucking gorgeous," Five patiently huffs, his focus on gauging your every reaction, holding himself still as possible.

“More,” you whine.

You clench involuntarily, letting out a low moan when Five works his hips forward, then back a little, a pleasant change that has you twitching for him even more.

He dips to kiss you, gasping for breath as he opens you even more. Too much for him at once, he takes his kisses to your neck.

He takes a moment to pull half-out of you before digging back in. Firm, slow, and steady, he fucks his hips into you while he bears down with a hiss. Your walls clench him tight, the extra pressure drawing out a moan from both of you.

Your eyes flutter closed as your fingers scratch against Five back. His hips press up, aiming to get as deep as possible, where he stays for one moment before pulling out and thrusting halfway in again and again.

"Fuck, Five, fuck," you slur out as your body begins to slip and slide across your sheets.

He grabs hold of your knee, pushing it back to meet your shoulder, falling into you deeper on his next thrust and you let out wet gasp, before he starts fucking you at a maddening pace, in and out, in shallow thrusts.

As he looks between your bodies, watching with an adorable fascination as his cock disappears inside you, you cry out, “Faster.”

Five obliges.

He really starts moving and the feel of him pumping his whole length inside you has your body arching and writhing up from the bed, lips parted in broken moans that fill the room and your entire apartment and probably your entire floor.

“Yes, Five. Fuck yes! “Don’t stop-fucking-fff,” you stammer, moving your ass up slightly which drives him deeper and brings on more breathless curses from you both. He’s so deep each time his body meets yours he’s knocking the wind from your lungs in breathy consonants and vowels of nonsense.

“Mmmmffff- aaah-ahhh-"

“Fuck-you-rrr-such-ah-good-boy, so tight,” he incoherently gasps along with you, as he pistons his cock into you, his thick tip fucking your cunt just right.

You’re plunging into a freefall, the coiling inside you causing you to cry out his name. At the sound of it, Five’s mouth finds yours, sloppily kissing you.

You’re both breathing too heavily for the kiss to last very long because breathing through your noses isn’t giving either of you enough oxygen. Breaking away, his forehead presses to your shoulder, a curtain of his dark hair falling around it as his strong pelvic slams into you.

"Please- fuck- harder-" you plead, and your magical super boy grants your wish.

Your eyes roll back in your head as Five pounds you harder and faster. Head spinning, your heart feeling like it might burst, your entire body is screaming for release.

“Come on, cum for me,” Five growls before resting his palm over your clit, thrusting his hand in time to his hips.

Your brain is getting shook loose with each slam of his body smacking into yours, and your bed frame isn't doing much better as it creaks and thumps into the wall in a pattern that matches your curses.

"Fuck- Fuck- FUCK-"

You’re reduced to disjointed moans as you fall apart. Shaking head to toe through a mind-melting orgasm, the throbbing intensity as you cum hits you over and over until it completely overwhelms your senses and leaves you speechless.

“That’s right, cream on daddy’s cock,” Five encourages as he quickly flips his head back, his dampened hair falling right back in front of his eyes as he smirks.

“Five- Fu-ffff,” you wetly gasp.

“Ready for another one?” he asks, still undulating his cock as he quirks an eyebrow.

“Ww-wah? How are you doing this,” you ask, meaning how the fuck is he still fucking you! He said he’d been with someone else before, but… Fuck!

His smirk only gets bigger. “Lots of practice with a very receptive inanimate object, named Dolores,” he replies. “Now roll over. Don’t make me count to three,” he warns, before suddenly pulling out, leaving you reeling, his hands on your hips, rolling you over before he pulls your ass high in the air.

The heat of his cock hits your entrance with zero resistance and your body jumps forward when you feel his balls hit your ass.

That move gets you both hissing out strings of discombobulated profanities again as Five holds himself stock still, his eyes closing tight as if he’s in pain..

“Dolores?” you manage to choke.

“Desperate times,” he huffs in way of explanation, then just as the shocking statement he just made and the jolt of him bottoming out is starting to subside, Five smacks your ass, and he’s back to it, fucking into you with a relentless pace.

“Fu-ua-uch-yea-ah, so good,” he disjointedly praises as he rides your ass, hooking his feet inside your ankles so you can’t close your legs.

Your body tightens as his thrusts speed up. You shudder, mouth falling open with a shocked moan as you feel Five’s cock rutting against your insides, demanding every inch of your attention.

With your face down in your mattress, you gasp against moistened fabric. Your shaky fingers clutch at your fitted bedsheet, Five’s brutal pace making steady smack, smack, smack sounds.

You still have no idea how he’s doing it, but Five just keeps on going like his real superpower is that he’s the fucking Energizer Bunny.

Pulling your limp body up to his, Five’s face nuzzles against the back of your neck, hips rolling hard and fast, the sweat from your flush bodies only making it easier for him to fuck into like he’s a well-oiled machine.

“God, you’re magnificent. You feel so fucking good,” he breathes.

"Hnn-mm-unh, uh, uh, please, please-" you moan.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. And you’re gonna cum with me,” Five growls, bearing down on you harder.

You cry out, your next orgasm hitting you as Earth shattering at the first two. You’re shivering, open-mouthed and helpless as you start to feel his warmth spreading with each thrust, Five’s hips jerking slower and slower as he empties his throbbing cock.

He hisses, moaning out a melody of expletives as his hips stutter to a near halt. He just came hard, but that doesn’t stop him as he rolls you against the mattress, coming down next to you, his cock pumping into you a few more times until you’re both left panting and boneless.

He kisses the nape of your neck and tenderly brushes a sweaty strand of your hair from the side of your face. Five stays connected to you until your chests are both rising and falling much slower, then his softening length slips out on its own, a white ribbon of cum immediately spilling out of you, the feel and sight of it making Five let out the softest whimper of distress.

Not letting you go, he kisses your temple.

"That was amazing," he contentedly breathes.

You huff out a sigh in agreement, cheeks flushed, gaze half lidded.

"I didn’t hurt you?" he whispers, a hand coming up to brush over your jaw, so gently. The concern for your wellbeing is reflected in Five’s soft green eyes as he pulls himself up on a wobbly elbow to look at you better.

“Not at all," you mutter with a weak smile as you pull your blankets over, throwing them over both of you.

Five’s hair is sticking up in just about every direction and it’s only adding to the beauty of his dazed grin.

“I’m never leaving you again, that’s unless you make me,” Five murmurs as he lays back down, kissing your shoulder. 

“I can’t see that happening, unless you get all boring, getting up early, only to take afternoon naps on my couch before you finish your old man day with one of your exhilarating crossword puzzles rather than finding new ways you can pounce on me and spank my ass.”

He laughs. There’s an impish glint in his eyes, like the twinkles of distant starlight.

“Awww, sweetheart,” he mocks. “You make all my favorite hobbies sound like bad things” 

You lean into his touch, sighing in contempt before gently whispering, “Go to sleep and I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

Obediently shutting his droopy eyes, he whispers I love you. Then the prick sneakily pulls his hand back, then smacks you in the ass, making you yelp like a little girl.

Ass burning, your heart is full.

This is Five. The wonderful, amazing, sexy jerk you fell in love with.

Next to you, almost as soon as the quiet fills the space between you again, you can tell he’s drifting off to sleep.

Five is finally home.

You roll over just enough to watch him sleeping. 

He looks so peaceful. Like a very naughty angel. The best kind.

You kiss his forehead, and he pulls you back in, making you his little spoon.

Laying there, still trying to take in everything that just happened, you think about all the times Five made jokes about his traumatic life and his loneliness. You caught stolen glimpses of his pain in his sweet but sad smiles, shaking his head, eyelids fluttering closed as he determinedly set his jaw, acting like his memories didn’t hurt him.

Five tried to build a wall around his heart, the barriers entrenched by years of grief, but it all came crashing down at the world’s end. 

Now it’s time for happiness. 

~~~~~~~

Masterpost

Link to my other Tumblr story/art/and asks

Link to visit me direct on A03tua

[rainbow-crane]

In-Depth Character Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 1: Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Yes, I'm aware the title is ungodly long, it's called comedy. Behold, a series inspired by my overwhelming hubris! Despite my better judgement, I love this series and (almost) every single one of its characters, so I decided to do this little series of posts on the side, just cuz!

So part 1 of like, 88 I think?, going through the characters from THH, DR 0, SDR2, UDG, DR3, and DRV3 with as much objectivity as possible, analyzing their character using only canon material from the games/anime/novel/canon adaptation they're present in. So sit back and enjoy while I go feral! Or just scroll, if you aren't interested. Whatever works for you.

Part 1- Character Design

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is depicted as a very aggressive honors student, and is shown as such through his very expressive facial features and his choice of clothing. He has large eyebrows and big eyes, and is given a uniform meant to make him look more like a soldier, reflecting his rigid dedication to the rules and his ethics. This uniform also includes an armband meant to signify his authority within the class as Hall Monitor and as the unofficial class rep. His sprites are very animated, with big gestures using his arm(s) and his mouth often wide open, whether in a wide smile or while yelling. This makes him one of the more expressive characters in THH specifically, as most of those characters are pretty restrained on a day-to-day basis and only become more exaggerated when put under high levels of stress.

Something interesting about Taka is that his talent changes from the original Japanese to the English translation. His official talent is the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member, meaning his original talent was that of discipline and social order. This was translated to Ultimate Moral Compass in English, as most western schools don't have a Public Morals Committee. This change in translation unintentionally shifted the perception of his talent from discipline to morality. This change in distinction has had a bit of a negative impact on the Western perception of his character, as rather than appearing to impose order on the other students, it instead appears at the beginning as though we, the audience, are supposed to view him as a beacon of morality. We're not.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Taka is one of the first characters to actually speak to Makoto directly, berating him for being late on the first day of school, despite the fact that he and everyone else had experienced a strange warping of memory. He also goes on to interrupt your first conversation with Sayaka, stating that their time is being wasted by 'ridiculous back-and-forth'. Despite this, when it's his turn to introduce himself to Makoto, he goes off on a tangent about how cool Makoto's name is. He's described by Makoto as a 'flawless honors student' and is most publicly known for his work on his local Public Morals Committee. He believes in putting 'every ounce of effort' into living, and imposes this belief on those he interacts with, something Makoto finds irritating(This guy is... kind annoying.").

So in short, Taka's first impression on the player is that he's a mildly obsessive honors kid, and a bit of a hypocrite that isn't fully aware of his own presence or the effect it has on the rest of the cast. The game goes on to use this lack of social awareness as a source of comedy, as he takes Monokuma's initial greeting as Headmaster fully at face value. He struggles to grasp the concept of the killing game at first, opening the discussion upon Monokuma's departure from the welcome ceremony with dialogue that sounds like it was pulled from a customer feedback survey("So guys, how would you define what we just experienced?"). He's not a malicious or hateful figure; he wants to work with the class but isn't quite sure how to.

Part 3- Early-Game Events

The game spends the early-game establishing Taka's more negative traits. He's shown to be inobservant and wrapped up in his own ideals and need to command authority to even notice Kyoko is missing and, upon being informed of her disappearance, cares more about her punctuality than her safety. "Not only is she late, she didn't tell anyone she would be late! A most unbecoming personality trait..."

He's also established as hypocritical once again, and a bit egotistical, as he has trouble fathoming the others' lack of discoveries but overinflates the importance of his own.

He then goes on to agree to Celeste's suggested nighttime rule for all the boys in the class, without letting them speak for themselves. While ultimately, no one has a problem with the rule, this is the first real instance of him doing something that, on paper, is beneficial to the group, but without considering how the others actually feel about it.

Taka doesn't show up in-story again until the day of the motive, when he goes around to the entire class demanding that they will now all have breakfast together every morning after the morning announcement. Although this is a good idea, allowing for everyone to bond and creating a morning headcount, he makes this decision for the entirety of the group. Leon and Makoto both complain about this if you speak to Leon outside the cafeteria, but ultimately go along with it because they don't want Taka to continue bugging them about it. So we can see that his efforts are perceived negatively by his classmates and go unappreciated.

Already we've seen Taka act overbearing and commanding over and over, inadvertently separating himself from the majority of his peers. He's direct and to the point, forming the breakfast meetings expressly to 'become friends and build trust' with the rest of the class. So we can see in no uncertain terms that he wants to befriend his classmates, but that his lack of social skills leads him to fail at every turn. He doesn't ask the class to join him for breakfast, he tells them. The strategy he employs doesn't leave room for choice, and ends up building resentment from his classmates.

It's not until the first body is discovered and the rules of the class trial are revealed that reality fully seems to set in for Taka. He, along with everyone else, are given the rules of a game they don't really want to play- that should they fail in the trial, all of them will be killed. And it sends Taka to a breakthrough- that some regulations can be harmful to those they're imposed upon.

There's now a shift in his actions- he's still trying to push for the class to follow the rules he's set, yes, but there's a newfound urgency to them. When Byakuya disappears in chapter 2, his concern has shifted from punctuality to his classmate's safety. He's the one to lead the search for Byakuya when he doesn't answer. Despite all his harshness, we can see that his strictness now comes from a place of genuine concern for the people around him, a direct parallel to earlier in the game when Kyoko went missing- "I'd like to think so. But I'm worried something might have happened to him."

This growth of character, though not focused on, is undoubtedly present. The dedication he has to his discipline and his ego are still fully intact, but now that dedication has moved beyond just order. It's an act of protection, for him and everyone else. The invisible threat of death has become all too visible with Sayaka's absence from their last breakfast meeting. If he can keep track of everyone, then he'll know they're still alive. He can prevent another murder. It imposes upon him the responsibility of the leadership he craves.

Part 4- Relationship(s)

Unincluding if the player actively seeks him out through FTEs, Taka only ever develops a real relationship with one character of the other fourteen in-game, though he does have some important dynamics with others. We'll continue moving in chronological order.

4.1- Ishimondo (these bitches gay?)

Throughout the game, whenever Taka is saying or doing something stupid, Mondo is typically the one to call him out on it or shut him down. While this doesn't start to take real shape until chapter 2, it is visible here and there in the early game.

But their connection doesn't really start to take focus until chapter 2, as Taka's failings as leader and Mondo's constant correcting him puts them at odds. Mondo's attitude is the antithesis of Taka's, living a life of complete risk and impulsiveness, yet has a matching level of energy, and despite being more intimidating on a surface level, he's able to actually befriend characters like Chihiro, Hina, and Sakura, while Taka's left on the out. One of the best examples of this is found not in the game, but in the stageplay adaptation, where both characters attempt to help Chihiro feel better about her weakness in the daily life segment.

When Byakuya starts mocking Chihiro for her fear, Mondo threatens him, and insists that Chihiro's weakness doesn't matter because she's a woman. But when this makes her upset and Sakuraoi call him out on it, he offers to help Chihiro train as an apology, acknowledging that his behavior was irrational. But when Taka tries to give her advice by telling her not to be weak anymore and is told to be reasonable, he can only insist that Mondo's words don't matter anyway.

In the game itself, Taka's barely present for this exchange, as it chooses instead to focus on Chimondo's relationship. Regardless, the animosity between Mondo and Taka is still made very clear in-game.

Mondo and Taka are both demonstrating the desire to protect their classmates here, but in different ways. Taka is the more logical of the two, focusing on keeping track of resources and devising a system of check for everyone to keep watch over each other in the breakfast promise. Mondo, meanwhile, wants to push the importance of actually getting everyone the fuck out of there. While their endgoal is the same, they disagree on how to go about it, and both their stubbornness drives them to butt heads as time continues to pass, leading to the sauna scene.

After being slowly built up in the background, Ishimondo's mutual anger finally comes to a head, with both not understanding the position that the other is in. Taka still believes Mondo's value to be what he provides to society, and as a biker gang leader, that's not much to a man that lives by lawful discipline. Meanwhile, Mondo can only see Taka as an egomaniac with a stick up his ass and doesn't know the background to why(and neither does the player without actively seeking out his FTEs). They each follow a different code of ethics, and view themself as the protector of the class, leading them to see each other as rivals. Yet, despite that, both of them still share their core value of total dedication, and so when finding a way to prove themself the better man, they end up with an endurance competition. For Taka, this reflects his belief that men connect by baring their souls, and do so by baring their bodies(something only learned in-game by approaching him for FTEs).

(This also leads to the implication that, while Mondo insisted on entering the sauna with all his clothes on, at some point, he was, in fact, naked while with Taka that night.)

The information as to what happened in that sauna is intentionally left unanswered, remaining fully private between both men in-game. The only thing either of them will say is that a brotherhood was formed between them, and that who won their initial contest no longer matters. Finally, Taka has found someone. Someone he can confide in and lean on, someone who'll support him and that he can support in turn("And if you can't do it alone, just find someone to support you, and you can support them back! That's how you can overcome any storm!" -Taka ch 1).

And then Chihiro's case happens.

At first, when the motives are introduced, Taka is one of the few to vocally insist no murder will take place. He has newfound confidence in the willpower of his classmates, and puts faith into everyone else for the first and only time. Even when presented with his own unknown secret, he finds it ridiculous that anyone would kill over the embarrassing memories and secrets. It's here that we truly see the highest high of this character- when he comes up with the idea to share secrets. When he presents this idea, he moves forward as usual, preparing to be the first one to reveal their secret and take the pressure off. But when his classmates insist they can't (Toko & Celeste) he doesn't keep chugging along, and he doesn't completely shut down, either. He looks around at his classmates, and he asks Chihiro. He actually steps back and asks for someone else's opinion.

And when she isn't yet comfortable, he backs off. He respect her wishes, and he stands with the class, ready to help them face their secrets the following day. Finding a friend in Mondo has softened his rigid exterior a little bit, enough to actually consider the opinions of the others. He's gotten comfortable. All that comes crashing down with the discovery of Chihiro's body the next morning. After finally taking a step back and letting his classmates- his friends- make their own choices, it directly leads to the murder of one of them("Dammit! I'm sorry, Chihiro... It's all because I wasn't strong enough!").

Taka fully blames himself for allowing Chihiro to be murdered, and as the guilt of failure starts to set in on him, he looks to his ethics and order to solve it. Chihiro may be dead, but the murderer will be condemned through the class trial("Justice always prevails! Right, bro!?"). A solution, a path forward, still exists for him. He still has Mondo by his side, and he and the rest of the class can surely prevent this from happening again, right?

The trial only validates him at first, revealing the existence of a serial killer among the group, someone so clearly immoral for her killing obsession. But it's not her. Why isn't it her? "Could such a heinous villain really be innocent!?" But his confusion is quickly stamped out- of course, it's Byakuya, the guy that's been threatening everyone and refusing to cooperate, the guy that has no regard for the rest of their classmates. "He kept calling this a game, right? So he'd totally be willing to do whatever it takes to 'win'!" But no, wrong again- he didn't know that the murder was in the boys' locker room, and was taken aback by Chihiro being AMAB. It should be him, someone so clearly antagonistic, that's how it's supposed to go, right?? But no, it's wrong! Why? And, who could kill someone like Chihiro at their most vulnerable?

He's failed. Taka's failed in every way conceivable. Mondo, the first person he's ever truly felt connected to, a murderer? Chihiro's murderer? That can't be it. Even long after Mondo's stopped arguing, Taka continues to push back against Makoto and Kyoko's accusations. It's a coincidence, that's not actually proof, anything to get them to stop, to save his brother, to save himself from the reality he's about to have to face. When sent into the BTB, it's Taka we fight in his despair, not Mondo. Until the very end, Taka won't acknowledge it. He can't. He can't bring himself to vote his Mondo a murderer, a killer. How could the man who gave him the chance no one else would, ever be so cruel? "I- I refuse to believe it... There's no way... no way he would kill someone! Why!? Why why why why why!? WHYYY!? Why did you do it!?"

He learns the truth of Mondo's story alongside the rest of the class, unable to process it all. It makes no sense. They were friends who trusted each other, who helped each other. And what about the man's promise? Doesn't that count for anything!? This doesn't sound right. This isn't Mondo, not his Mondo, not the man from the sauna. How could he have been so wrong about him?! It just can't be, but it is; the truth is but a slap to the face.

He was wrong. He stood by Chihiro's killer and defended him. He let his brother become the monster he saw himself as. He didn't stop it when he could have. He was blinded by his own beliefs, and as he watches Mondo's death, his spirit dies with him, the game cutting out all music as Taka screams, filling a deafening silence. "As Taka's sad screams invaded our skulls, we were each forced to realize once again..."

4.2- Kiyondo Ishida

Taka enters chapter 3 as a hollowed out shell of himself. He's gone near comatose, staring at nothing and saying nothing. He won't eat, won't speak, won't sleep, and although there are a couple weak attempts to get him back in action from Hiro("It's times like this where the committee chairman needs to get things going with a BANG!"), he's mostly left to grieve by himself, as the rest of cast is more concerned with the expanded school than the bossy guy they didn't like that much.

Monokuma even goes out of his way to torture Taka, to punish him for his grief, lying about the existence of a time machine just to fuck with his head and give him false hope, sending him further into despair- "Hmm... You sound disappointed. But actually, I was lying about the whole thing anyway. There's no such thing as time machines!" He's forced to become Monokuma's most successful project from the class, completely and utterly destroyed.

When he learns of Alter Ego, something in his head clicks. He can still talk to Chihiro. He can repent. He can apologize directly to him. So, with Makoto's help, he's brought to the laptop. His guilt finishes totally consuming him as he asks: "Do you... hate Mondo? And since I couldn't stop him... do you hate me?" His own self-hatred stemming from his failure is projected onto Alter Ego in one last attempt to come to terms with what's happened. The response he receives, unfortunately, is the culmination of all the toxic and unhealthy ideas of manhood the other boys carried with them via an attempted simulation of Mondo.

"You're not letting yourself get crushed under the weight of that responsibility, are you!? A man's only worth as much as the load he can carry! You get it, right bro!? Hell, what am I saying? Of course ya do!"

"So you're just gonna stand there, huh? Just wait for things to get better? Just take your time and get all depressed... Take the time to indulge your regrets... You might even start walking again without realizing it. Sure, that kind of mediocre thing might work for some people."

This speech, while attempting to inspire Taka to keep living for Chihiro's and Mondo's sakes, encapsulates the desperate need to be perceived as strong and untouchable that Mondo himself carried, and that Chihiro admired so much. It sinks its way into Taka, convincing him that the way to respond to his guilt is simple- pretend it isn't there! Mondo has clearly returned to him, and he's never letting him go ever again. He fully deludes himself, and he's fused with this idealized version of his bro. He permanently ties himself to Mondo's memory, and goes from the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member to something else entirely- Kiyondo Ishida, the unholy mixture of both men.

This revelation also leads him to an obsession with Alter Ego, viewing it as the vessel in which his bro was returned to him. He views it as another chance to protect his bro from ever being hurt again, as some divine second-chance he's been granted. All desire to be around the rest of his class is gone, replaced with this obsession. He's put at odds with Hifumi, who's also connected with the AI, and separates himself from the group that much more. When Alter Ego disappears, he can't handle it. He panics. He won't let his bro die, not again. And so he dooms himself, refusing to let go of the shadows of the past enough to see his own death looming before him, and he's killed in the early hours of the morning, led by desperation to his demise. And even so, the class can only worry about the semantics of when he died, barely mourning him.

5- Isolation (What's the point of this guy, anyway?)

Rather than learning from the mistakes both Chihiro and Mondo made by subscribing to the societal expectations of what makes a man, Taka ends up doubling down, burning away the optimism and more reasonable logic Taka used to have. Taka's story is that of a doomed fate to become the symbol of manhood and its self-destructing nature, leeching off of his first and only friend's unhealthy behaviors and sending him spiraling. And it's allowed to happen because of his social isolation.

From the very beginning of the game, Taka is singled out as annoying to be around. He's put in a negative light and viewed as unpleasant to spend time with. Every attempt to befriend or connect with a classmate is written off as a nuisance, a hindrance. Taka doesn't know how to make friends. He doesn't know how to do anything besides follow the rules and regulations he's been taught. He sticks to his regimen, because it's comfortable, and doesn't understand why others can't conform in the way that he does. He's very thoroughly isolated mentally and emotionally from his classmates at every turn, to the point where even in the very first trial he's standing with no one but the dead by his side(as Sayaka and "Junko" were positioned on either side of his podium).

All this is done with the deliberate intention to showcase his solitude, and more importantly, the loneliness that comes from it. It's to the point that when he finally does make a friend, he thoroughly idealizes him in his subconscious, coming to view him as some perfect person who'd even support him. It's inherently contradictory from his established beliefs going into the game, that a delinquent could be kind, but he accepts it wholeheartedly. He gets to know Mondo on some deeper level while in that sauna, and it's enough to rapidly develop a massive codependency on him. So when Mondo self-destructs and dies, so too does Taka.

Taka's purpose as a character is to suffer. He wraps himself in his moral beliefs, remaining steadfast in what he views as right and wrong, making judgement calls he's 100% sure of, and when they're challenged/disproven, he's thrown wholly out of whack. He exists to serve a purpose- what would've happened if Makoto didn't accept the truth about Sayaka? What happens when you let your idealism blind you to the truth? What happens when you blind yourself to the reality of the people around you, of the darkness in the people you care about? You self-destruct. He's tossed aside, killed as an accessory to the plot of someone who does nothing but manipulate the truth. He dies, and that's just it. His story is cut short; he doesn't get to heal or grow or come to terms with the truth. Such is the fate of the failed.

6- Afterword

...I didn't even touch his FTEs for this. Holy shit.

I'm gonna be honest, as much as I love Taka, I never expected this post would become as long as it did, or that I'd uncover such a dark fucking reason for why he gets as totally fucked over as he does. Don't get me wrong, I still really wish he'd lived and gotten to grow after this, but maybe his death was more well-written than I used to think. Good god.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : newborn baby ; incredibly fluffy ; Han being a cute overprotective dad ; slightly suggestive near the end ; Word Count : 0.8k Request : nope! A/N : 1 more day until I finally have a day off!! YAY!!! More dad skz fluff?!?! ABSOLUTELY!

It was late, or better yet, it was early, extremely early in the morning. It was the first night since you had brought home your daughter that she hadn’t woken up at least 5 times in the middle of the night to eat. She was finally settling into her room and for the most part, she was sleeping through the night, only waking up once to be fed and then go right back to sleep. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner to share this journey with you, Jisung was the most supportive and helpful person you could have by your side while you were not only healing, but on nights when you just couldn’t get out of bed from pure exhaustion. You were thankful to not only him, but the company as well for giving him such a long period of time off work to focus on not only taking care of you, but having time to bond with his new daughter and be a father. 

Finally being able to get some adequate sleep was something that both you and Jisung needed, but when you felt his side of the bed shift and you saw in the low light of the digital clock that he was sitting up, you immediately started to panic. Maybe it was the fact that he was giving off an aura of panic, or maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t heard anything in the baby monitor to cause him to jump up like that, or maybe it was a mixture of both that had you sitting up as well and grabbing the video monitor to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Sorry, honey.” He whispered breathlessly before letting out a heavy sigh and falling back against the pillow, his hand over his heart that you could almost hear beating in the silence that followed his words. “I could have sworn I heard her wake up… Maybe I should check on her to make sure she’s okay…” 

He started moving to get out of the bed, but you grabbed his hand, keeping him from getting up completely, and pulled him back down beside you. “Sungie, she’s fine. Look…” You handed him the monitor and his eyes scanned over the picture, focusing mainly on the sound of her tiny sighs as she slept peacefully in the room right across the hall. “You have nothing to worry about.” 

“I know…” He mumbled, handing you the video monitor for you to place on the nightstand once again. “But what if she’s hungry again? What if her nappy is wet? What if the blanket is too warm and she’s overheating? What if she’s cold? I just want her to be comfortable… I don’t want her to cry. You know… My heart breaks whenever she cries. I don’t like seeing her upset.” 

You could have sworn that in that moment your heart grew about 2 times its original size. “You are the most amazing man, the most amazing father ever, you know that, right?” You murmured, scooting closer to him and wrapping your arms around his chest. “If I wasn’t bleeding so bad right now I’d-“ 

His finger moved to your lips to stop your thoughts for a second, his eyes glancing around the room, and for a moment you thought he heard the baby again, but then he glanced down at you with a devious smile. “I’ll get the towel.” He whispered, although there was excitement in the hushed words. 

“Sungie!” You whisper shouted to him, but he was already scrambling out of the bed, his legs tangled in the blankets, but it was both adorable and somehow sexy as hell how much he wanted you, and you wanted him just as bad. “We gotta be quiet.” You said between giggles as he walked back into the room, a dark towel hanging over his shoulder as he walked over to the bed. 

“You have to be quiet. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who had the neighbors banging on the door that one time.” He said quite cockily, climbing on top of you and kissing down your neck. “You’re so beautiful… Wanna get married?” 

You snorted softly, the sound turning into a soft moan as he nibbled softly on your sensitive skin. “Sung… we’re already engaged…” You said between a mixture of moans and giggles. 

“Oh…” He paused, pushing himself up a little, his eyes lighting up and shining in the dim light of the room. “God, I’m so fucking lucky!” He cheered, his voice rising and before he had the chance to do anything more, the soft whimpering of your daughter came through the monitor. “Shit…” He sighed, pushing himself up off of you. “I’ll get her… Get some sleep, honey.” 

Your mouth hung open and your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him sprint out the door. It would be hard to sleep, especially after he got you so worked up, but when you rolled over and watched him scoop your daughter out of the crib and cradle her against his chest, that excitement dwindled and turned into adoration, love, devotion. You knew that he was the man that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and if given the time, have maybe one or two more babies with. 

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 1

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 1

Summary: The reader wakes up from a strange dream in bed with her husband. Shaking off the dream, she goes about her day, enjoying lunch with her best friend; however, things may not be as they appear.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 4,124

Warnings: A bit of angst, mentions of infidelity

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2018. Only 7 of the 10 chapters were ever posted. They are all written and will be published.

“Dean,” you mumble, slowly drawing from a dream. You slide your hand across the mattress slowly, eyes still closed, and smile when you reach the body next to you. It shifts, turning towards you, and you open your eyes. The deep brown eyes of your husband’s meet yours and you blink, forcing the remnants of the strange dream away quickly.

“You say something?” He asks, voice still thick with sleep. You force a smile and shake your head.

“Must have been mumbling in my sleep,” you tell him. He nods and rolls onto his back, closing his eyes again. You bite your lip, pushing yourself up to rest on your elbow, and look down at him. “Ya know…we’ve got about half an hour before we have to be up.” He nods, eyes still closed.

“I know. Why do you think I’m trying to go back to sleep?” He asks. You frown, dejected, and throw the covers off of yourself as you roll out of the bed. “Where are you going?” He asks with a sigh.

“I’m taking my shower,” you tell him, making your way across the master bedroom to the bathroom. You close and lock the door behind you before starting to undress.

When you’d married Jackson Rawlings about two years ago, you hadn’t expected the honeymoon phase of your marriage to be over so quickly. But when you’d told him you were pregnant the day after the wedding, it practically ended then and there. However, if little Ella was the only good thing to come from this marriage, it would have been worth it. She’d recently turned one and from the first moment you’d held her in your arms, she’d been then apple of your eye.

A knock on the bathroom door pulls you away from your thoughts as you work the conditioner into your hair.

“Y/N, Ella’s up,” Jackson calls through the door. You frown and slide the shower door open.

“Can you get her?” You call back to your husband.

“Can’t. Gotta go in early,” he says. You sigh and move back under the water, rinsing your hair out quickly. “And I’ll probably be late. Got another staff meeting.”

“Again?” You ask, shutting the water off. “That’s the third one this week.”

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? We’re redoing the curriculum for the entire English department. I have to be there,” he says from the other side of the door. You can hear Ella’s cries coming from the baby monitor near your bed so you wrap a towel around yourself quickly and step into the bedroom.

“I know. It’s just -,” Jackson cuts you off with a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Bye,” he says before rushing from the room. You frown as you stare after him.

“Bye,” you mumble, shaking your head slightly. You make your way across the hall to the nursery and click the light on. “There’s Mommy’s pretty girl,” you coo as you cross the room. She’s standing in the crib, holding on to the railing as she cries. You tuck the edge of your towel in carefully to keep it tightly around you before pulling her from the crib.

“Mama,” she whimpers, laying her head on your damp shoulder. You smile and press a kiss to her thin tuft of hair.

“Can Mama get dressed before breakfast?” You ask. She lets out a whine and you sigh, nodding. “Breakfast it is.” You carry her down the stairs and into the kitchen, depositing the infant into her high chair. You’re just about to start making her infant oatmeal when there’s a knock at the front door. You groan as you look down at yourself, still wrapped in the towel. “Coming,” you call, trying to pull the towel around you a little tighter. Ella starts to cry from her high chair as you rush from the kitchen to the front door. You pull the door open and can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face.

“Mornin’ Gorgeous,” Dean Winchester, your childhood best friend, greets you. His eyes roam down your towel-clad body then back up to your face slowly. “Ya know, I generally have a rule against married women but…” You roll your eyes, but smile despite yourself, as you turn back into the house. Dean steps inside, closing the door behind himself.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask as you make your way back into the kitchen. Ella continues to cry until Dean steps into the kitchen.

“You forgot?” He asks, glancing over at you. You stop and look back at him, blankly. “We were gonna do breakfast before I took you down to the shop to pick your car up.”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. He laughs lightly as he walks over to Ella.

“Hey, El,” he says, dropping a kiss on top of her head. She giggles and reaches for him, tears suddenly gone.

“Bean!!” She calls out. He smiles as he pulls her from the high chair carefully.

“Where’s the professor?” Dean asks, looking back at you. You shoot a glare over your shoulder at him as he walks over. His words seemed harmless enough but he never called your husband “the professor” out of respect.

“He had to get to the university early,” you inform him. Dean nods then reaches over, stopping you from mixing the oatmeal.

“How about you go finish getting ready and I’ll take care of my god-daughter?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You look up at him and bite your lip.

“Are you sure?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Dean looks you over again and smirks.

“I mean, I’m all for you staying in the towel but she’s going back to bed and you’re telling your dad why I’m late for work,” he says. You roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder.

“What I’m gonna do is call your mother and tell her you won’t stop flirting with a married woman,” you tell him, eyes narrowing. He watches you closely, his smile slipping.

“You okay? You usually dish it right back out,” he says. You let out a laugh and shake your head slightly.

“I’m fine. Just had a weird dream last night,” you confess, a blush creeping into your cheeks. Dean’s eyebrows raise in question.

“Tell me about it over breakfast?” He asks. You hesitate for a moment before nodding. You could at least tell him about most of it. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Good. Now go get dressed.” You smile then rush up the stairs, leaving your best friend to take care of your daughter.

You and Dean had grown up together, your parents and his were old friends. The flirty banter had been your normal form of communication since you were teens but you’d only ever crossed that line between friends and something more once in your entire relationship. You had both been pretty drunk that night and agreed it was a mistake, not wanting to hurt your friendship.

The two of you had worked together at your father’s auto mechanic shop for a few years after graduating college. Dean eventually worked his way up to become a partial owner with your father. You had worked in the office, keeping all the accounts and money organized for them. Once you’d married Jackson, he’d convinced you to quit. He said that he was making enough money to support you both, which was true. Dean always said it was because he didn’t want the two of you together all the time, which you happened to know was also true.

You dress comfortably for the day, jeans and an old t-shirt you can’t remember buying. Keeping things simple, you fix your hair and brush on some mascara before going back down to the kitchen. Dean’s sitting at the table with Ella in his lap. She’s dressed in a dress you know Dean had bought her not long ago with a matching bow in her thin tuft of hair and her diaper bag is packed up, resting on the table.

“You didn’t have to do all of that,” you tell him, walking over and picking up the bag. He smiles as he stands, resting Ella on his hip.

“But I’m so good at it,” he says, smirking down at you. You roll your eyes at him, trying not to smile.

“God, you’re so full of yourself,” you say. His smirk only manages to grow bigger as you turn for the front hall together.

“Yea, well, seeing a gorgeous women come into the room wearing your clothes will do that to a man,” he says. You stop and look up at him before looking down at the shirt you’d put on. Of course, it was his. It was bigger and comfortable and familiar. You’d stolen it ages ago, back in high school if you remembered correctly, and never given it back.

“To be fair, I’ve had this long enough it shouldn’t even count as yours anymore,” you tell him. He laughs and shakes his head as he pulls the front door open, allowing you to step through first.

The three of you load into Dean’s old Impala, Ella’s car seat from your car expertly strapped into his backseat. He drives down to your favorite breakfast place and you’re seated at the same table in the corner you and Dean always sit at. Dean slips Ella into the high chair they bring over and you hand her a toy to play with as Dean orders your regular meal and drink. You smile as she slaps the plastic toy against the tray of the high chair then look across the table at your best friend.

“You talked to Lisa?” You ask. He frowns and shakes his head.

“No. I – I’m pretty sure it’s really over this time,” he says. The waitress brings over two steaming mugs of coffee and sets them in front of you two. You smile as you pick yours up.

“You said that last time. And the time before that,” you tell him. He rolls his eyes, picking up his own mug.

“Yea, well, last time she didn’t go out with someone else two days after we broke up,” he says. Your eyes widen as you stare at him.

“Are you serious?” You ask. He sighs and nods, looking over at Ella.

“Bean!!” She giggles, showing him her toy. He smiles at her then looks back at you. You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m sorry. I know how much she meant to you,” you tell him. He shrugs, squeezing your hand.

“We tried, ya know? And lately things just haven’t been the same,” he says. You nod, watching him with concern. He smiles. “So, you gonna tell me about this dream?” You make a face, pulling your hand away from his.

“It was just…weird,” you say. He nods slightly. You sigh, knowing he isn’t going to drop the subject any time soon, and look into your coffee cup. “We were these – monster hunters?” You glance up at him and he raises an eyebrow. “Like…ghosts and demons and vampires…monsters.”

“We?” He asks. You nod, running a finger around the rim of your mug.

“Me, you, and Sam. Our parents were all dead, killed by different monsters, so it was just the three of us. We lived in this old bunker or something. And we –,” you stop and bite your lip.

“What?” He asks. You sigh and run a hand across your forehead.

“We were…together,” you tell him. You expect any number of comments but nothing comes. You look up at him and you’re met with the biggest, goofiest grin.

“Did we…you know?” He asks, wigging his eyebrows. You roll your eyes.

“No. We didn’t. Something was – was off,” you tell him, trying to remember. You blink and look back at Dean to find he’s frowning. “What?”

“You’re telling me that we were together in this dream and we didn’t have sex?” He asks. Your eyes widen as you look around quickly.

“Will you shut up??” You ask, dropping your voice low. His smile returns slowly as he watches the blush creep into your cheeks.

“Awww, come on, Y/N. Not like it would be the first time we did,” he says. You’re certain your eyes are about to pop out of your head as Dean begins to laugh, throwing his head back.

“Shut up!!” You say. The two of you were the only people who knew about your little one-night stand in the past and you’d planned on keeping it that way.

“Hey, I’m just kidding, Sweetheart. That what’s got you so shaken? That we were together and something was wrong?” He asks. You shrug, looking over at Ella as she reaches for your mug. You pull her sippy cup from her bag and set it on the tray in front of her. Dean goes to say something but the sound of your phone ringing cuts him off. Jackson’s Office the screen reads as you quickly hit the answer button.

“Hello?” You ask, putting the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Y/N. Pretty sure I left my cell at the house today. If you happen to see it, just leave it. Don’t worry about bringing it or anything. Just leave it alone. Okay?” He says in a rush. You frown and nod slightly.

“Sure,” you tell him. The line clicks dead and you bite your lip, looking at the phone in your hands.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks, watching you closely. You glance at him and smile your best, nodding, as you put your cell away again. The waitress brings over your food and sets a plate in front of both of you. Dean scrapes a small serving of his scrambled eggs onto a smaller plate and sets it on the tray of Ella’s highchair. You shake your head slightly.

“No wonder people think you’re her father when we’re out somewhere,” you say, picking up your fork. Dean shrugs.

“Someone’s gotta act like it,” he says. Your hand freezes midway through cutting into one of the pancakes on your plate. Dean sighs and hangs his head. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.” You bite your lip, fighting back angry tears. You weren’t mad at Dean. You couldn’t be. You were mad at Jackson because you knew Dean was right. He’d always acted more like her father than your husband ever did. “Y/N,” Dean says, reaching across the table for your hand. You look at him and shake your head quickly.

“It’s fine, Dean,” you tell him. He watches you for a moment before looking back at Ella. She grins at him as she sticks a handful of eggs into her mouth.

“I mean, it could just be the fact that she has my eyes,” he teases, smiling over at you again. You let out a laugh and roll your eyes.

“For the last time, she doesn’t have your eyes. She just happens to have green eyes,” you say, sticking a piece of pancake with your fork. Dean laughs before continuing to eat his breakfast as well.

After you’ve finished and had your typical fight with Dean over who was paying for the meal, a fight you always seem to lose, the three of you head across town to the old shop. Your father is just unlocking the door as Dean pulls the Impala into his usual parking spot. Ella lets out a squeal and begins to kick her feet.

“Papa!! Papa!! Papa!!” She jabbers, having caught sight of your father. You laugh as you climb from the car. Dean gets Ella from her seat before handing her over to the waiting arms of her Papa. She lays her head on his shoulder and he kisses her forehead.

“How’s my favorite granddaughter this morning?” He asks, running a hand over her back soothingly. You smile as you walk over to him.

“She’s your only granddaughter, Dad,” you tell him before kissing his cheek. He winks at you.

“And Travis is my favorite grandson,” he says, referring to your older brother’s only child. You roll your eyes then reach to help Dean with the car seat.

“I’ve got it,” he says, pulling it from the back seat. He holds it up and smiles proudly. “See? I told you I’d get the hang of this thing.”

“He practiced putting it in and getting it out for an hour yesterday,” your father informs you, trying to not laugh. Dean glares over at him.

“Thanks, Joe,” he says. You laugh then stand on your toes and kiss Dean’s cheek quickly.

“That’s sweet,” you tell him. Dean smiles proudly and looks at your father, raising his eyebrows mockingly.

“He’s still just trying to win your affection,” your father says. Dean scoffs and closes the door to the Impala.

“Please. We all know she agreed to marry me first then took it back,” he says, starting towards the building. You roll your eyes as you follow, your father right behind you with Ella.

“You were 9. I was 7. And you proposed with a ring pop. You practically bribed me with candy,” you say. He holds the front door open for you and smirks.

“You still said yes. Then went and married Jackass,” he says. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Jackson,” you correct. He nods slightly.

“That’s what I said.” He winks at you and for a split second you consider slapping him. However, you don’t. You merely roll your eyes again and walk into the old building. Your father takes Ella back to his office, probably to sneak some candy to her, and Dean pulls the door closed. He sets the car seat down in one of the chairs in the corner. As he makes his way towards the counter, he stops and kisses your cheek quickly. “You know you love me.”

“Mmhmmm,” you hum in response, crossing your arms. He laughs and dashes around the counter, turning the computer on. He picks your keys up and tosses them across the room to you. You catch them with one hand, easily. “How much?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that,” he says, looking through a stack of papers. Your father comes back from the office with Ella, chocolate all over her face now.

“She found it completely on her own,” he says, handing her back to you. You laugh and shake your head.

“Because you’ve shown her exactly where it is so many times now,” you tell him. He smiles innocently and shrugs. “How much do I owe you?” Your father looks up at Dean who merely shrugs his shoulders and gestures towards you in a way that can only mean to say, “She’s your daughter.”

“I’m not making my own daughter pay,” he says. You narrow your eyes at the two of them.

“You’re lucky I love you both. I could have done it myself, I just don’t have time,” you mutter before kissing you father’s cheek. “Tell Papa bye,” you say to Ella. She giggles and waves a hand at him.

“Bye Papa!!” She says. He smiles widely and kisses her hair before planting a kiss on your own head.

“Love you, girls,” he says. You smile at him then turn to pick up the car seat but Dean’s beat you to it. The two of you go out to your waiting car where Dean easily gets the seat strapped into the backseat. He takes Ella from you and kisses her cheek before buckling her in the way you’d shown him. She pouts up at him when he does.

“No, Bean,” she whines, reaching out for him. He groans and shakes his head.

“No. Not the pout. Y/N, she’s pouting,” he says, looking over at you. You laugh and shake your head.

“She’ll get over it,” you tell him. He sighs dramatically and closes the door before turning to you fully. Wrapping you up in a tight hug, he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Love you, Sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft. You smile and look up at him.

“Love you too, Dean,” you say. He smiles softer and kisses your forehead.

“Call me if you need anything,” he says, letting you go finally. You nod and he reaches over, pulling the front door open for you. You laugh lightly as you get in.

“Such a gentleman. Lisa doesn’t realize what she’s thrown away,” you tell him. He laughs and shakes his head, closing the door.

You glance back in the rear view mirror to find Dean watching you as you drive away from the shop. As you make your way back to the house, your sister-in-law Kristen calls, asking if you and Ella want to have a girls’ day out with herself and your mother. You agree and meet them both at your parents’ house. The four of you spend the day out, shopping and having a good time.

Since Jackson was going to be late getting in, you stay at your parents’ house for the evening and have dinner with them. Your father invites Dean to stay as well. You know deep down that your mother and father both wished you’d ended up with him instead of Jackson. Ella falls asleep midway through dinner, exhausted from the day out. You get her back home and tucked into bed before going into your own room. And there it is, sitting on the bedside table. Jackson’s phone.

You’d honestly forgotten about the odd conversation you’d had with him earlier that morning. He’d practically demanded that you leave it alone and just ignore it. Of course, that only peeked your curiosity. You’d spent the last several weeks convincing yourself that your worst fears weren’t true. He was actually going in early and staying late to work and nothing else. But still…

You pick the phone up quickly and press the home button. The number display comes up and you bite your lip. He’d never shared his pass code with you. You start to put in your anniversary but roll your eyes, quickly deleting the entry. That wasn’t going to be it. You try Ella’s birthday and even her name to no avail. You stare at the numbers before putting in his birth year. The phone unlocks.

You hesitate for a moment, almost feeling a little guilty for not trusting your husband. But then again, if he had nothing to hide, why be so secretive? You take a deep breath and hit the messages icon on the bottom portion of the screen. The top conversation catches your eye instantly.

Chrissy

Can’t wait 😘

Your heart sinks as you sit on the edge of the bed and tap the conversation. A sob erupts from your chest as you begin to scroll through the messages. They were flirty and dirty. There was no way he could deny any of this, no way anything could be misconstrued.

You quickly gathered that Chrissy was one of his students from some messages about her being a “bad girl” in class wearing nothing under her skirt for him. It isn’t long before you scroll past a picture. A gorgeous, busty 20-something blonde in some skimpy red lingerie. You quickly turn the phone off and set it back on the table as your sobs overwhelm you.

Laying on your side, you curl into yourself. The questions begin to plague your mind, one after the other. Why weren’t you enough for him? Had he ever really loved you? Could you win back his love at this point? You could change. You could hit the gym and get in better shape for him. You could get implants and be more appealing.

As you slowly drift into the comfort of sleep, you can just hear someone calling your name in the distance. Jackson, finally home you assume. But as the voice gets nearer and more distinct, you realize it isn’t Jackson at all. It’s Dean.

“Y/N,” he calls. “Y/N, Sweetheart, wake up.” You jolt awake and sit up right in the bed. A different bed. You look around at the room and you know it well. The gun collection on the wall and pictures of you and your boyfriend on the desk are a welcome site. “Y/N?” Dean says, his voice laced with concern. It isn’t until now you realize you’re sobbing. You look at Dean sitting beside you, worry etched across his face. He’s gently rubbing your back, trying to soothe you. “What’s wrong?” You put a hand over your mouth and shake your head slightly.

“I – I had the strangest dream,” you tell him.

Read Chapter 2 here.

A/N: Here we go!! First chapter of a brand new story. Tags are open if anyone wants to be tagged for updates.

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch

[milksnake-tea]

━━ 4:00:00 A.M.

in which silver wolf and sunday realize they have more in common than they'd originally thought. 2.1k words.

It’s just about 4:00:00 system time when Silver Wolf finds herself pulling yet another all-nighter.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to her; as much as she needs it (much to her chagrin, as unfortunate as it is, she is painfully human and thus needs sleep as everyone else does), she often finds herself staying well into the wee hours of the night with her room shrouded in darkness and her face illuminated by her various consoles and monitors.

She stifles a yawn as her thumbs move on autopilot across the rhythm game she has up on her phone. To any normie, the bright colors and flashing lights would’ve given them a seizure with how rapidly they blinked. But Silver Wolf is already starting to get bored of it - even at this speed, the game was too boring, too slow.

There’s little to no joy as the victory screen flashes. With a sigh and a stretch of her arms, Silver Wolf leans back in her chair.

She’s bored, so incredibly bored.

Nothing interesting is happening anymore. It’s like the cosmos has gone dead-silent, waiting for the next update or patch to come. Except unlike with games, Silver Wolf can’t just leave this reality and pick up another one.

She stares up at the ceiling despite the lack of light. It isn’t like anyone’s awake at this time, either. Firefly might be, but she’s off in a whole ‘nother star system and probably doesn’t feel like having some fun - not after Penacony. Blade’s knocked out, and Silver Wolf would eat her shoe before she asked Kafka of all people to game.

That leaves two people: Elio, and the new recruit.

And Elio hasn’t left his man-cave for the last three weeks - not like Silver Wolf would play with him, anyways. He’s got to be one of the most boring players of all time; he already knows everything that’s going to happen, and so he’s never lost.

As for Sunday, well…

She raises her hand and violet-blue screens materialize at her fingertips. She sorts through the base’s security camera feeds (made by yours truly), scrolling mindlessly until she spots something, no, someone in the hall outlooking the cosmos.

She grins. Perfect.

With a cartoonish popping noise, she teleports right besides Sunday so she can speak in his ear.

“Whatcha looking at?”

Sunday jumps, wings flaring like a deer in highlights. He unfortunately doesn’t scream in absolute terror, nor does he jump back with a face so scandalized it would rival that of the oldest and most traditional of great-great-grandparents.

Silver Wolf bites her lip to hide her disappointment. Indifferently, she tilts her head and lands neatly on the floor besides Sunday.

As soon as he gets his bearings back, Sunday sighs with a pointed look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course,” Silver Wolf snickers, planting her hands on her hips. 

She kind of hates how she has to crane her neck up to look at him - over three years of working with the Hunters, and she’s yet to find someone who wasn’t taller than her. And she’s been drinking a lot of milk, too (never let Kafka find out. If she did, Silver Wolf was going to throw herself off the top of Pier Point)!

“You didn’t answer my question, though. What’re you doing up so late, Mr. Wings?”

If Sunday cares for her nickname, he doesn't show it. He rarely shows anything. “I could say the same to you, Miss Silver Wolf.”

“Well, since you’re new, I’ll let this slide. But it’s pretty well-known around here that I don’t exactly need sleep.”

Sunday raises a brow. “Is that right?”

Thinly veiled amusement laces his tone. He obviously doesn’t believe her.

“You don’t have to believe me,” she shrugs, feigning indifference. “Isn’t the fact that I’m here proof in of itself?”

Her eye twitches when Sunday insteads lets out a breathy chuckle, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Time and time again, Silver Wolf has been looked down on because of her stature and young age, and many more times she’s used that to her advantage. She’s been called a child, immature, a brat - all by people she would eventually bring down with ease.

But for some reason, she doesn’t see that condescending gaze in Sunday’s eyes. No, it’s something different - something… warm, and fond.

It creeps her the hell out.

“It’s rude to stare,” she clips, crossing her arms. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that?”

Sunday’s gaze becomes downcast. Shit. Did she say something she shouldn’t have?

“My parents were…”

Fuck.

��You don’t have to finish that,” she interrupts hastily. Sunday shakes his head.

“No, it’s alright.” 

Looking up to the great vastness of the universe, Sunday’s eyes become unfocused, as if gazing upon something far, far into the distance, something that couldn’t be seen by the naked eye.

“My parents left me at a very early age due to the Stellaron Crisis,” he begins. Internally sighing, Silver Wolf falls silent. “For as long as I’ve ever known, Robin was the only person I had. We did everything together, from our lessons to sneaking out at night to watch the stars.”

“You? Sneak out?” Silver Wolf raises a brow. Maybe he isn’t as uptight as she thought he was.

“It was mainly Robin’s idea, although I was more of a troublemaker than I am now.”

“You’re a wanted criminal.”

“That’s besides the point.”

Well, at least there’s potential. Silver Wolf wouldn’t know what to do if she had a religious prick with a stick up his ass as a coworker… he’d be fun to tease, but that’s it. Regardless, she nods for him to continue.

“Anyways, it goes without saying that Robin was… is very important to me. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, even if it meant that Gopher Wood would target me instead of her. And… as much as I owe to Gopher Wood, he wasn’t the kindest of father figures.”

He turns his head slightly to meet Silver Wolf’s eyes. She hopes that her expression is normal.

“So, forgive me, if I haven't learnt anything my parents should’ve taught me.”

Whatever sympathy Silver Wolf had shrinks quite quickly. Her face drops into a pout.

“Alright, geez,” she groans, stretching her arms. “I’m sorry, okay? I said something insensitive.”

Sunday hums. “Are you really?”

Her pout drops into a glower. “If you’re thinking of making me grovel, think again. I’m not going to stoop that low.”

“Alright, alright,” Sunday concedes with a smile. “I forgive you.”

There’s something in the way he speaks that makes it so that she doesn’t even want to grace him with a response. Turning her cheek with a huff, she joins him in watching as the nebulae pass by.

For a moment, the world is still. Silence envelops the base, and the only sound is a distant soundtrack of classical music.

Then, for reasons she doesn’t know herself, she speaks.

“You know, I also had a sibling.”

In the reflection of the window, she sees Sunday’s brows raise with intrigue. Warmth rushing to her cheeks, she coughs and hastily continues. By the End, why did she ever think this was a good idea?

“Well, they weren’t as much a sibling as they were a coworker. But they were the only one who could ever keep up with me. I’ve yet to meet another person like them, and I doubt that I ever will. They were like a 5-star artifact that rolled into all of the right substats.”

“You say ‘were’,” Sunday observes carefully. “Have they…?”

“They’re not dead,” Silver Wolf says bluntly. “They just left. I see them sometimes, but they don’t remember me.”

Sunday’s gaze becomes lidded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Silver Wolf waves him off. If he’s about to get all sappy or therapist-y with her, she doesn’t want part in any of it. “It was going to happen one way or another. It was in the script.”

“Still, isn’t it lonely?”

Lonely?

Silver Wolf doesn’t know what to make of that word. Loneliness implied the lack of companions, of which she has many - excluding the Hunters, she has Friend, Demon Lord, White Collar, and Servant. They are the ones who have been with her ever since her days in that dingy old fast-food restaurant. With them around, she was never alone.

But that doesn’t seem to be what Sunday is asking.

“I don’t know,” she says nonchalantly. “It is boring without them, though.”

Sunday doesn’t reply. The silence returns, but this time with a heavier weight. Her chest constricts - she wants to sigh, but holds herself back.

It’s stupid, anyways, to grieve for someone who never left. She still sees them, after all. They just… don’t like her as much as they used to.

A memory she’s tried to bury comes to mind - the Astral Express’s cabin, a hologram, and a distrustful gaze, and a word that haunts her more than she’d like to admit: Intruder.

Ugh, whatever. She knew it would happen; Elio had warned her. She’d read the script. She’d taken their memories herself. She even made fun of Kafka when they didn’t fully remember her.

She’s being stupid - maybe this is why Blade always told her to not stay up too late. Emotions are dumb, and she does not have the time to deal with them-

There’s a gentle weight on her head, and then a soft rustling of her hair. Silver Wolf bluescreens.

“It isn’t a sin to miss someone,” Sunday offers softly. “Nor is it a weakness. All it means is that you treasured that person deeply.”

“I know,” Silver Wolf mutters. She hates how her throat has become a little choked up. Slapping his hand away, she shoots him a disgruntled look. “I’m not a child, by the way. You don’t have to treat me like one.”

“My apologies,” Sunday chuckles, returning his hand behind his back. “I’m afraid I got a tad bit carried away. I do hope you can forgive me, Miss Silver Wolf.”

“Whatever,” Silver Wolf sighs, dusting off her hair in a meager attempt to get it back in line. “And you don’t have to call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Miss. It sounds stuffy. Just call me Silver Wolf, like everyone else does.”

“Not everyone, though,” Sunday points out, mirth glimmering in his eyes. “If I recall correctly, doesn’t Miss Kafka refer to you as-”

“Call me ‘Wolfie’, and I’ll drop you off at the IPC. ”

“Point taken.”

Silver Wolf squints. She doesn’t like Sunday’s tone, still patronizing as ever - but maybe that’s just how he talks. Eh, who cares. He isn’t the only one who talks weird - Kafka would give him a run for his money.

In search of some sort of stimulation, her phone materializes in her hands and she starts up yet another game - that Origami Bird game that she’d dueled against them with.

As always, she opts for PVP - Aeons know how dull the A.I.’s playing style is. But barely one minute in, and she already finds herself itching for something new.

“Is that from Penacony?”

Silver Wolf nearly jumps out of her skin, but thankfully, she manages to play it off well. Sunday is looking just over her shoulder, intrigue barely noticeable but still present.

“Yeah,” she says, shifting away slightly so that he doesn’t breathe on her. “Got launched a few days after you got arrested. Wanna play?”

Surprise flickers briefly over his dove-like features. “I… I suppose I could; although, I do have to warn you - it has been quite some time since I’ve picked up a video game.”

“Really?” Silver Wolf wrinkles her nose as she hands him one of her consoles. “What do you do in your free time, then?”

Sunday blinks. Silver Wolf blinks back.

“My what?”

Silver Wolf visibly cringes.

“Good grief, how are you worse than Blade?” She blows a raspberry, starting up the game. Atop her head, her holographic origami bird flutters to life, nestling into her hair comfortably. A few moments, and soon Sunday's own avatar materializes with a gentle coo. “Alright, whatever. Get the tutorial done, and then I’ll PVP you.”

“Ah, alright. How do I do that again-?”

Does he even know what PVP means? She doubts it. But as the familiar theme song begins to play, the chirps of the holographic birds fill up the empty silence, and she once again finds herself in the motions of teaching someone to play, she can hardly bring herself to care.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

[hiskillingjar]

Hypnotism (Ren/MC

big thank you to the original asker who gave me this prompt lol. got away from me a little but i think it’s still got the same energy.

day 6: hypnotism second person. cw for dubiously consensual drugging and monster energy

"Can I get a Monster, please?"

"Original, Ultra White, or-"

"Pipeline Punch, obviously!” You said with an exaggerated ‘ugh!’, flicking the plastic fibres of your wig out of your eyes, heavily made up and caked in pink glitter. “Is there any other?"

The girl behind the bar rolled her eyes (probably wishing she was also partying in the hall instead of serving you). She turned away, fetching a tall pink can from the set of fridges behind her, readily stocked for the messy nerds the hotel was hosting over the convention weekend.

"You're such a bitch." 

Ren giggled, a little tipsy, at your side, his chin pressing against your shoulder as his chest hit your back, his tail swaying cool air against your thighs as it wagged. 

"She was just asking you a question. No need to bite her head off."

"Come on, it's a dumb question!” You said, eyes flitting towards him as the girl cracked open the can and slid it towards you. “How can you look at me,” You gestured downwards at the tacky Chibi Moon cosplay you were wearing, thigh highs, a short skirt and a bikini sporting a comically large bow between the cups. “And think I'll ask for anything but Pipeline Punch?"

"You have no taste.” He continued to giggle, snaking his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the fibres of your pink pigtails.“Ultra White is peak."

"Maybe if you have an eating disorder," You rolled your eyes, paying the exorbitant five dollars for the can with a tap of your phone. "Something you wanna tell me, Ren?~"

“Shut up,” He rebuked with a huff, biting your ear softly, a small growl escaping his throat as he squeezed you around the waist, pressing you flush against the line of his body. “And drink your Monster.”

"Mm, not so close,” You complained with a lip-gloss lacquered pout, taking a long initial sip from the can and smacking your lips. “It's so hot in there. I swear, I can feel sweat dripping down my crack-"

“Well, let’s stop wasting time already,” He said with an exaggerated sigh, taking your free hand and dragging you towards the double doors of the hotel ballroom, music pounding loudly behind it. “I don’t wanna miss anything good!”

"Okay, okay!" You laughed, holding your hands up and taking another swig from your can, the fruity chemicals bubbling over your tongue and satisfying your thirst, before you thrust it towards him. "Can you hold this for a second? I need to adjust my bra."

"Oh, so you're calling those two fabric triangles a bra now?" He said with a good-natured eye roll, as you turned around and adjusted the strings of your bikini top, tightening them slightly and breathing in as they cut into your soft flesh, pushing your breasts together. “You’re so high maintenance, I swear.”

"Now who's the bitch!" You said with an exaggerated gasp before grinning, leaning in to kiss his cheek (leaving behind a pink lipgloss print) and take your can back. "Thank youuuu~"

"Pff," He rolled his eyes again, his hand reaching for yours once more as he pulled you back inside the crowded ballroom, the pounding music instantly loud and throbbing through every inch of your body as soon as you stepped inside. "You're such a tease, y'know that?"

"I don't think you can call me a tease when you're gonna get laid at the end of the night." You commented with a cattish smirk, following behind him obediently.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you slut~," Ren said with a mischievous smirk, his ears tilting forward with a shake of his head.

He led you through the sea of dancing people and closer towards the front of the ballroom, where a DJ (donned with a neon green furry wolf head that you guessed was probably drenched in sweat) was spinning the tracks for the night, all while a matching set of monitors were projecting visuals for the set; sped-up anime openings, well-cropped hentai and constant, flashing lights.

It made the rave's energy feel much more manic, and you loved it.

You were grinning like an idiot by the time the two of you got to the front, soaking up the atmosphere like a sponge, and your body was already moving in time with the music, your hips swaying, your chest bouncing and your shoulders bobbing up and down.

Ren turned to look at you, his amber eyes lecherously raking over your body from top to bottom, admiring the cheap cosplay that barely covered you, a clear lust behind his gaze. 

Not like you minded. You knew you were hot, and his validation just made you feel hotter.

"God, you look good tonight," He said with a fanged smile, matching your dance moves the best he could (without a bouncing chest),

You somehow smiled even more and stroked down the length of your pigtail, before tossing it over your shoulder, your eyes half-lidded and a seductive pout on your lips.

"How good do I look, hm?" You crooned.

"Good enough for me to want to take you on the dance floor." He admitted with a brazen grin, closing the space between the two of you, his hot body pressed against yours, making it all too easy for him to roll his hips against your own.

You could feel how hard he was through his jeans. 

Already. You had barely done a thing and you were driving him crazy.

He was so fucking easy.

"You're such a nerd," You laughed, but you didn't stop yourself from pressing against him too, the back of your skirt riding up as he slotted his groin against your backside, his hands bracketing your full hips. "Seriously? I just gotta dress like an anime girl to get you going?"

"What can I say," He hummed airily, his hands wandering up and down your thighs and groping your ass through the thin fabric of the cosplay. “I’m very weak against a very specific type of girl. It’s not my fault you fit it perfectly.”

You bit your lip to hide another big, dumb smile, feeling his hand slide up your skirt and toy with the elastic hem of your bicycle shorts (you had to retain some modesty), like he wanted to pull them down. 

"Fuck, it's so hot in here," You breathed out and stood up straight after the song finished, feeling a bead of sweat run down your inner thighs. You sighed and took another swig of Monster, before pushing your wrist against your forehead, wiping up sweat with a grimace. “I think I might actually have to go outside, it’s a little too much.”

Instead of pulling you out of the ballroom to get some air (which you wouldn’t have expected from him anyway), Ren reached around and grabbed your wrist, tight, beore guiding your hand upwards, the cool metal of the Monster can pressed against your gasping lips. 

"You don’t need to do that. Just finish your drink, baby," He ordered softly (in a tone you knew you couldn’t argue with), hooking his chin over your shoulder and tracing his soft lips over your ear, whispering sweet words under the pounding music. "It'll help you cool down, won’t it?"

"Mmf-!" 

You spluttered in muffled (if slightly coerced) agreement as the drink hit your lips again and filled your mouth, the overwhelming sweetness making your brain pound, more than the music had, more than the flashing lights and swirling colours had.

Sticky pink fluid ran down your chin as he poured more, too fast for you to swallow, and trickled over your chest, soaking into the costume.

When you glanced down (as much as you could, as much as he let you), you saw your nipples were visible under the wet fabric, dusky beneath the soaked white, and it made something inside you throb painfully.

"Oh, look at you," Ren tutted as he looked down your body, keening forward so his tongue could run over the side of your chin to collect the droplets of sticky Monster, his eyes smouldering as his free hand pulled your hips against his once more, pushing your skirt up completely. "Such a mess. You just always need me to take care of you, don’t you?"

Hhhhh…" 

You breathed out unsteadily through your nose, heavy eyes blinking slowly (dumbly), as he poured another mouthful of energy drink down your throat, your head spinning even more. 

The crowd of bodies around you were packed in so tight, the small ballroom hot and humid (stinking of sweat and vape smoke), and filled to the brim with the manic energy of a thousand nerds on their first night out, hopped up on Monster Energy and vodka, listening to nightcore remixes of their favourite anime. 

It was an infectious energy that made your heavy head pound even more.

And you didn't know if it was the caffeine and the sugar from the drink, or if it was the pounding music and flashing lights, or if it was something else entirely making you feel so...strange all of a sudden, but you knew you liked it, whatever it was.

"Oh, fuck," 

You breathed out as a new song started playing, speakers throbbing with droning sirens and pounding bass, while the twin monitors played sensorily overwhelming visuals of flashing lights, swirling spirals, half-naked anime girls and candy-sweet gore, fake blood tinged almost pink and making your mouth water. 

"This song is...really fucking good..."

"Oh yeah?" Ren chuckled, watching the way your chest heaved as he pulled the pink can away from your lips, the sugar-sweet liquid staining your chin and pooling in the valley of your breasts, almost glistening against your skin under the harsh lights of the room. "Maybe you should...pay attention to it, hm? If it's that good~"

You barely managed to slur a meek "okay" before he suddenly forced your shoulders forward, bending your body in two and pressing his hips squarely against your backside, so your eyes could focus on nothing but the flashing lights and visuals, and he could keep you still and stimulated.

"That's a good girl," He said as the lower half of your body moved to the beat of the music, swaying and jerking. "Just focus on the beat. You look so hot when you dance."

Your hazy eyes locked forward, almost involuntarily, widening slightly as the lights sped up to match the sped-up beats-per-minute, black and white imprinted on your lids and blurring your vision.

The rest of the clubgoers blurred too, into a muddy and abject sea of multicoloured wigs, cheap AliExpress cosplay and fursuits. 

All that mattered were those monitors, now showing censored hentai and overlays of pink and red spirals, making your heart pound and your brain throb in your skull.

What little brain you still had.

Ren pressed closer to you; the solid weight of his body an anchor against the increasingly dizzying effect of the music and the lights.

“Y’know, you really do look good tonight, baby…”

"Heh," You laughed, breathing out unsteadily as you tried to stand up straight again. He kept you still with a hand in between your shoulders, though. "Mm...my head feels funny, Ren~"

Your voice was soft, sweet, almost simpering, nowhere close to the ‘bitchy tone’ he occasionally took issue with.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a hidden smirk playing on his lips as he took in your dazed expression and the needy look in your eyes. "That's really interesting, sweetheart..."

"Did you drug me?" You laughed again as he pushed you forward again, the small if persisting amount of fear barely audible in your voice over the pounding music.

"Now, why would I do something like that, hm?" He asked, his tone almost innocent.

"I...don't know," You breathed out, licking your lips again to quell your nervousness and tasting the overwhelming sweetness of the Monster and the aftertaste of something chalky. "I feel so hot...and...hahhh..."

"Aw, is my baby overheating already?" He asked with feigned sympathy, his hands then wandering across the planes of your body, the tips of his fingers trailing over the sweat-sticky bare skin of your back, your hips, your thighs. "You feel so hot. You poor thing."

"Hhhh," 

You wheezed uselessly as he pulled your shoulders upwards and paced to your front, a little dribble of pink-tinged spittle running down your sticky chin, the music only getting louder in your mind, despite him pushing you back, aside from the crowds and towards the corner of the ballroom.

He chuckled at the sight of you, face flushed from the heat and the drink, your lax body swaying to beats and lights.

 "God, you're pathetic," Your back hit a wall, somewhat unexpectedly, and he laughed in your ear, cruel and mocking, his chest pressed against yours. "You look so out of it, baby."

"Heh heh," You giggled brainlessly, trying to shut your mouth. You couldn’t stop drooling. "I...y-yeah...I guess I am."

"You're just a mess, you know that?" He continued to tease cruelly, his chest subtly heaving against yours from exertion, his hands roaming your sides, your hips, again. "But you love it, don't you? Feeling all brainless and dizzy and needy. I bet you’re addicted to it, like you’re addicted to those fucking energy drinks~"

You couldn't say anything, your brain only able to focus on those flashing lights and the pounding music, and how good it was making you feel.

You had a sense that it wasn’t just sweat and Monster making you feel so wet.

"You're such a good girl, baby," He then said, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your neck, his tongue running down to your collar, tasting salt and sweet on your skin. "And good girls get rewards, don't they?” He pulled back and eyed you with a fanged smile. “You want a reward, don't you, baby?"

"Mm," You moaned mindlessly, nodding in time with the music.

"Good girl, asking for what you want" He growled in satisfaction, his tongue tracing back up the side of your neck to your ear as he pulled you closer. "I think you're going to enjoy it, too~"

Your hazy mind didn't catch his hand going into his pocket, but you knew immediately what he had done when you felt a familiar device buzz to life inside your panties.

"OH!"

You had forgotten about the bullet in these panties when you got dressed that morning. Had you been walking around with a sex toy in your underwear all day?

The idea of it made your cunt twinge a little.

"Mmm," Ren hummed happily, the vibrations rocking through your body to the beat of the music (must have had a special sensor built in, or something), just making your brain slur even more as the bass pounded. "You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? Letting me do something like this to you in public?"

"I-I didn't...ohhhh~" You moaned helplessly, tipping your head back against the wall. 

Your eyes stayed open, though, half-lidded and staring ahead at those pink graphics.

"But you don't hate it, do you?" He asked, nipping at your ear, tugging at the hoop through it and pressing his fingers against the front of your shorts, forcing the small device a little harder against you. "It feels good, doesn't it?  And you look so hot like this, baby, all needy and mindless. Everyone here is going to know you're my girl and be so jealous."

Of course, you didn’t hate this.

Your full lips were slack and drooling, a sticky mix of spit and energy drink, your eyes were locked ahead, practically pinned in place, and your entire body was positively thrumming with pleasure, both from the vibrator in your panties and the enthralling trance you’d be put under.

How could you possibly hate even a moment of this?

"That's what I thought," He praised your non-answer, his lips trailing back to the crook of your neck and sucking at the skin, leaving a small mark (which you barely reacted to, you were so gone) before his voice dropped even lower in your ear. "And you're going to stay like this for me, all needy and pretty, all night, until everyone here can see just how filthy my baby is for me, aren't you?"

"Yessss," You drawled out with another mindless moan, the vibrator in your panties building in intensity as the droning bridge dropped and the bass began to pound. "God, yes..."

"Suuuuch a good girl," He whispered, his fangs finding the edge of your ear and biting down hungrily, his chest rising and falling against your front in time with the beat, each throbbing pulse setting off the device between your legs. "I want you to look at the stage, baby. I want you to watch what's on the screen for me."

You hadn’t looked away, but found all the more reason not to when he was ordering you around like this.

"You don't need anything do you, baby? You don't need to think or worry about anything, hm?" He murmured, his soft voice somehow permeating each rise and fall of the music. "All you need to focus on is how good the music feels, how good I make you feel, and how desperately you want more…”

"Y-Yeah," You murmured softly, your hazy eyes half-lidded again as your lips went slack. "Hhhh..."

“And only good girls get to feel like this, don’t they, baby?" He then asked, turning up the bullet another notch and listening to you moan, pink spirals reflected in your glassy eyes. “Only good girls get to feel this happy and free.”

"I'm a good girl," You smiled brainlessly, your head tilting back. "Ngh, I’m a good girl..."

"That's right, baby," He whispered with a proud smile. "You're my good girl. Soooo, you're going to keep dancing for me, all mindless and dumb, so that everyone here knows you’re mine, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Sound good?”

"Uh huh~" 

“So pathetic. Hmm, no wonder I like you so much~”

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 5

The Eleventh Doctor is called the Anti-Squid. It means he is the Devil of the Space Squid Religion.

Kovarian taught the assassins she raised to refer to the Doctor as the Demon and the sound the TARDIS makes as the Demon's roar.

The Eighth Doctor has a tattoo of a man turning into a jaguar.

Grace Holloway eventually worked in a MI6 sponsored genetics lab to test the substance the Master had spat at her during the TV Movie in the hopes of creating a Time Lord-human hybrid capable of regeneration. Unfortunately, the Master had at the time been a Deathworm Morphant, and her associate became a Morphant-human hybrid. The Doctor chastised her for this.

Speaking of experiments involving regeneration, the Forge was an intelligence organization that did all sorts of experiments, including Project: Lazarus. This operation was designed to discover how regeneration worked.

Nyssa collapses in Four to Doomsday and exhibited psychic powers in Time-Flight. This is because Kwundaar, a pre-universe being who had originally created the Source, chose her for his manipulations because she was a Traken native who had left the union.

The Fourth Doctor took Liz Shaw on adventures for a little while.

The First Doctor also tried to kill the would-be dictator as a baby. While queuing up to see the baby at the christening, he dropped the knife he had been planning on using to kill them. Annoyed with his clumsiness, he left with Susan.

Runcible was a hall monitor in the Academy who had mutual bad blood with the Doctor and his friends. He would one day be literally stabbed in the back by the Master.

Borusa taught the Doctor when they were young to fear the regenerative process.

Clara Oswald's mother died on the same day as the Auton Invasion in the episode Rose.

Not all TARDISes are capable of flight.

While being affected by the Gommen Machine, K9 thought that he was a stuntman and that Nyssa was his daughter.

After Nyssa and the Fifth Doctor were splintered in time and trapped in a time bubble, they became something akin to psychic vampires, eating the memories of the villagers nearby.

Anzor was a school bully at the Academy who used a torture device called a galvaniser on his classmates. He would most notably torment the Doctor, using this device and making him do his navigational homework because he wasn't smart enough to do so. The Sixth Doctor was still terrified of Anzor, trying to hide from him when they met.

The Sixth Doctor believed that the Third Doctor had an unusual dress sense.

The Third Doctor was able to control his pheromones to communicate with the Builders, which resembled eight inch slugs.

The TARDIS kitchen restocks itself every morning.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[marlynnofmany]

A Mystery Easily Solved

I’ve got to say, one of the best things about working on a courier spaceship is the downtime. Sure, some deliveries need constant monitoring, and some days we all need to multitask on other moneymaking ventures to make ends meet. But other times we’re doing fine moneywise, and there’s a nice long span of time until we reach our destination.

Today I was spending that time reading in the crew lounge, lying sideways on the couch so I didn’t fall through the tail gap, with Telly the ship’s cat purring against me.

Originally she was The Human’s Animal, restricted to my quarters, but that didn’t last long. Her adorable nature and pestcatching abilities won over everybody, even those of the crew who had exoskeletons that couldn’t properly appreciate how soft her fur was.

I was stroking that mismatched fur with one hand and holding up my reading tablet with the other when Mur walked quietly through.

(I say walk, though really there should be a different word entirely for movement that involves that many tentacles slapping against the floor.)

Anyways, I didn’t really pay attention. I was busy reading, and the lounge was open to anyone. Apparently the rest of the crew had other things to do, which was really their loss.

I didn’t notice when he walked by the first time, but when he came back, he was moving weirdly slowly. I peered around the tablet.

Is he trying to sneak up on somebody out in the hall? I wondered. He wasn’t looking at me, and the expression on his blue-black squid face was one of frowning concentration. I didn’t interrupt.

He moved into the hall, and did indeed have a conversation with someone there, but it was a hushed one that made me even more curious. I lowered the tablet as Mur came back in the company of Paint.

She also looked serious — a mottled orange lizardy person who was colored like the Painted Sunset she was named for, and who was rarely quiet or still. She seemed to be looking for something.

“What’s up?” I whispered. Telly flicked an ear, but only settled in deeper, still purring in a way that said she wasn’t going to give up her comfy spot any time soon. I kept stroking her while I set the tablet on the end table.

“There’s a mystery sound,” Paint whispered back. “Mur said it sounded like an engine problem.”

“We shouldn’t be able to hear any engines in this room, at least not that loud,” Mur said. “Did somebody leave a bit of machinery under a table?”

He seemed honestly baffled, and I hid a smile as it dawned on me what they might be hearing. “Which direction is it coming from?” I asked. “Is it over here?”

They did some careful listening and moved closer.

Mur climbed up on a chair. “Are you doing it??”

I shook my head, grinning and still petting the cat. “No, but you’re close.”

Paint moved in with her head turned sideways for listening. “Oh!”

“Oh what?” Mur demanded.

I shifted position just enough to disturb Telly, who stopped purring and raised her head with a meow of objection.

Paint laughed. “It’s the cat!”

Mur pressed tentacles against his own face. “I can’t believe I forgot they make engine noises.”

“They do,” I said with immense satisfaction, petting Telly again. “And I believe that serves you right for the tentacle-pop noise I couldn’t figure out awhile ago.”

He sighed like a deflating balloon. “Yeah okay, that’s fair.”

“How does she do that?” Paint asked, joining me in running a hand across Telly’s fur. “Oh, she’s so warm!”

Paint’s people are called Heatseekers for a reason. I told her, “She might sit on your lap if you’re still.”

Paint was of course delighted by this idea. Mur threw several tentacles in the air and declared he was off to do something productive with his time.

“Have fun!” I said. “We’ll be here petting the engine noises.”

He grumbled as he left. Telly made more sleepy meows when she was moved from one spot to another, but with two pairs of hands giving her ear scritches and attention, she settled down again.

Her purrs were loud, and Paint’s grin was full of joy.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[prythianpages]

Give 'Em Hell | Part One

beron's daughter OC x eventually Azriel

Masterlist

Summary: Beron is celebrating his son's first name day when he learns about a threat to his desired line of succession. His true firstborn.

Warnings: mentions of child loss

A/N: This is the villain origin story of Beron's daughter. I plan for this to be a short series but I also don't really have this planned out well like my other series lol, I'm kind of just going with vibes for this one. After listening to The Buttress's 'Brutus' this came to mind so it will be inspired by Julius Caesar's story and revolve mainly around Saoirse and Eris, who are siblings. Azriel will join later on in the series as the first 2-3 parts will focus on reader and the Vanserras.

In the heart of the Autumn Court’s grand palace, the air hummed with vibrant festivities. It was a day of great joy, a celebration for the name day of the High Lord’s firstborn son and heir. The halls were adorned with tapestries of blazing amber and crimson leaves, their intricate designs catching the radiance of the fiery torches that lined the corridor.

Flickering candles and enchanting crystal orbs dangled from the vaulted ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow upon the gathering below. The joyful chatter of courtiers and nobles mingled with the melodic tunes of minstrels performing lively songs. Excitement surged through the crowd as they anticipated the official naming of the new prince, the air crackling with a promise of a prosperous future for the court and its people.

The grand doors opened and the High Lord of Autumn, Beron Vanserra, was the first to emerge. His wife and Lady of the Autumn Court, Aurelia, followed behind him. In her arm, was the autumn court’s new bundle of joy. A beautiful and healthy baby boy with hair as red as hers and amber eyes as bright and earthly as hers.

As they walked forward, the crowd dispersed, bowing their heads in respect. They curiously sneaked a peak at the boy, filled with anxious excitement to catch a glimpse. Lady Aurelia tightened her hold on her babe protectively. It had been a year since the announcement of his arrival and she had feared losing this babe as she had with her first. Her firstborn had befallen to a strange illness and she sadly did not survive past her first week into the world.

But this time, things were different. The child was born a male and healthy. He was fiercely monitored and protected. The securing of an heir to a High Lord of Prythian was one of great matters.

High Lord Beron sat himself on the throne, his dark brown eyes cold and fierce as Lady Aurelia stood beside him, her amber eyes were timid and wary. They were husband and wife but not equals. Never equals.

“I give thanks to all.” Beron’s voice was deep and powerful, echoing throughout the grand hall. “For gathering to celebrate my first born son. My heir. Eris.”

“Eris,” a murmur swept through the crowd like a breeze, the name mingling with the crackling excitement of the gathered court.

With a graceful motion of his hand, the lively melody swelled, encouraging some to sway and twirl to the music. High Lord Beron gestured for his son and Lady Aurelia hesitantly passed the small child into his arms.  He placed Eris on his lap, embracing the young heir, and together they observed the vibrant dance of the Autumn court from his throne.

A cloaked figure approached the throne, bowing his head as he reached the foot of the steps.

“Soothsayer.” High Lord Beron acknowledged with a solemn nod, allowing the figure to rise back up. He never bothered to learn his name, despite the Soothsayer being a part of his court for decades. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve come to enlighten you, my lord.” The Soothsayer replied, his voice possessing an air of icy calm. Lady Aurelia, who remained by her husband’s side, tensed.

High Lord Beron’s brow furrowed, a scowl etched onto his face. He did not believe in prophecies. They were nothing but nonsense to him. But something in him prodded him to entertain the man’s presence. The Soothsayer had, afterall, predicted the accurate arrival of his son.

The Soothsayer’s gaze fixed upon the child on his High Lord’s lap and a smile graced his face. “Eris shall grow to wield unparalleled strength.”

Beron gave a disgruntled hum, finding little amusement in the Soothsayer’s words. The notion that his son would grow strong seemed more a matter of course than a profound prophecy. Eris, as the heir to the Autumn Court, was destined for greatness. 

The Soothsayer’s demeanor shifted dramatically. His eyes rolled back, their irises disappearing into a haunting white void as he surrendered to the profundity of the prophecy. 

“The Vanserra line will be fruitful and flourishing as Autumn’s greatest harvest, for they are born with the greatest fire in their veins. But it will not last. Not all will thrive as some will die. Two will soon become three until there are finally eight but one will not be true to you and only one shall come to be. It is the one that possesses the phoenix's heart that the Mother will favor. She shall reign, the true firstborn.”

Beron’s eyes widened for a faltering moment before he rose sharply to his feet, handing the child that had begun to grow restless back to his wife. His gaze blazed with fury, taking the Soothsayer’s words as a threat. Tendrils of flame escaped from his finger tips, rushing to wrap around the Soothsayer’s neck to silence him.

But the Soothsayer did not falter, despite the burning ring around his neck.

“She will emerge from the ashes that aim to entomb her, ever lingering near. A course that cannot be averted. Beware… the ides of March.”

Beron’s eyes continued to rage, the fire in them burning ardently, as the fire around the Soothsayer’s neck tightened. It tightened and tightened, suffocating the male and burned through his flesh. He didn’t stop until the Soothsayer’s head dropped to the floor in a sickening thump, his body following along shortly.

Lady Aurelia let out a cry in shock, her hand flying to her son’s head, shielding him from the grotesque scene. The couples that had been dancing and swaying to the music came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening at the dead body before the throne to the Autumn Court but the music continued to play.

High Lord Beron finally peeled his heated gaze from the dead male, eyes darting around the room. “Did I say to stop?”

Not wanting to meet the Soothsayer’s fate, the crowd began to dance again, compelled by fear. Beron then turned to his guards as the Soothsayer’s words repeated themselves in his head and sunk in, bringing forth a familiar ache in his chest. One he had thought he had destroyed years ago.

His mind was consumed by memories from his past as he gave hushed and urgent orders to his most trusted men. 

For the rest of the night, the High Lord of the Autumn court maintained a scowl and an air of fierce composure. The flames that danced restlessly from his fingertips betrayed the inner turmoil he harbored. He did not rest, until days later, when his men finally returned.

High Lord Beron was sharing a quiet breakfast with his wife and son when he turned to address his men.  “Is it done?”

“Yes, my High Lord.” One of his men replied with a bow. The men behind followed.  “Not a single survivor left.”

Beron’s lips curled into a wicked smirk that sent chills up Lady Aurerlia’s spine while little Eris shifted in her lap.

“Good.”

**

Grief is the price one pays for love. It’s more than missing someone. It’s an overwhelming sensation, one that often takes a piece of you with it, leaving one with a gaping hole in their chest.

 It starts with denial, you pretend that the loss is not real until the pain that it carries becomes too much and anger floods in. The “what ifs” and “if only” nearly drown you as you bargain, wanting to postpone the sadness, the confusion. And then it’s peaceful in the deep and quiet depression. The arms of the ocean of grief’s depression carry you in until acceptance comes along like a bittersweet lullaby with a small sliver of hope–a life ring that may pull you out of grief’s cold depths.

But Saoirse’s mother never reached the final stage.

Instead, her mother slowly disappeared into the unrelenting depressing grip of grief. The depths of it were so deep no hand or life ring could reach. All for love.

Saoirse vowed to never fall in love. How could she when it was love that drove her mother so mad she lost her sanity?

Saoirse shuffled through the vast meadow. It was a canvas of autumnal hues, serene and enchanting, resplendent with vibrant flowers. Golden, russet and crimson blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, their petals swirling among the tall, amber grasses. Sunlight dappled through the tree branches, casting a warm golden glow. She picked out the prettiest of the flowers, making sure to grab her mother’s favorites–red chrysanthemums–before carefully wrapping them into a beautiful bouquet held together with a thin cloth and ivory ribbon.

When Saoirse entered the comforts of her small, humble home, she was greeted with the enticing scent of apple and cinnamon and the warmth of the roaring fireplace in the living space. She found her mother sitting in a rocking chair close to the fireplace, facing the window. A blanket had been gently draped over her lap, her fingers fidgeting over the warm fabric.

“Happy birthday, mother.” Saoirse greeted with a faint, fragile smile.

She approached her mother, placing a soft kiss on her forehead and the bouquet of flowers in her lap. Her mother’s shaky fingers clung onto the bouquet but her green eyes were distant.

“You took my heart when you left. Without your sweet kiss, my soul is lost…”

Saoirse’s smile fell and she felt her heart ache. She hated seeing her mother like this.

“She’s been like this all day.” A weathered voice chimed in solemnly.

“My city’s in ruins.”

Saoirse turned, her gaze landing on her sweet grandmother. The woman who had sacrificed everything to run to her daughter’s aid all those years ago. The woman who rose shortly after her high status fell, working hard to provide for her and her daughter. The woman, who when she found out her daughter was pregnant, delicately took care of her, raising Saoirse as if she were her own. Her eyes, usually warm and sweet, were green pools of sympathy as Saoirse’s mother’s voice faded into the background.

“Come on, rise up. Come on, rise up.”

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Her grandmother said, inkling her head toward the kitchen. “I made apple pie for dessert.”

**

They ate dinner in silence. With the help of her grandmother, Saoirse had guided her mother to the small dining table, just big enough for the three of them. Her mother continued to sing, green eyes still vacant as she was tormented by her memories. She had fallen into another bad episode, where the memories ran through an endless loop in her head. The song falling from her lips was her only solace.

“My city’s in ruins.”

Silver lined Saoirse’s eyes, making her dark brown eyes glisten. Eyes that she unfortunately inherited from her father, if she could even call him that. She was grateful it was the only trait they shared.

Saoirse hated the male that helped bring her to this cruel world with a burning passion. Everything was his fault. Why her sweet grandmother’s hands were calloused, roughened by the hard labor she was forced into. Why her mother was drowning in her depressive, almost vegetative state, refusing to heal from all the damage that had been done. All the damage he had done.

Saoirse had also fallen victim to the torturous depths of grief, mourning the loss of the mother she never got to know. Similar to her mother, she found herself stuck but it was not grief's depression that suffocated her. It was the ardent flames of anger. They ran so deep they flooded her veins, igniting her with a terrifying desire to burn everything to the ground.

“Sersh.”

Saoirse snapped out of her thoughts, eyes finding her grandmother, who glanced down at the table. “Shit, sorry.” She muttered.

 “Come on, rise up. Come on, rise up.”

As she drew back her heated hands, a shiver of discomfort ran through her. The scent of singed wood tickled her nostrils and the once pristine table bore the mark of her growing abilities, its surface marred by a thin layer of char.  Her grandmother’s soft chuckle met an abrupt halt. 

Their heads swiveled to Saoirse’s mother, whose voice had ceased mid-song. With a shared look of concern, both Saoirse and her grandmother called out to her simultaneously. 

“Margot?”

“Mother?”

Silence hung in the air after Saoirse’s call to her mother was met with no response. Her mother, Margot, remained wordless. Her emerald eyes widening in sheer disbelief and lips pressed into a taut line. She appeared as though she had seen a ghost.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by a blood-curdling scream. A scream that did not originate from within the house, a scream that elicited a tumult of more anguished sounds, echoing chaos.

Saoirse leaped to her feet in a panicked rush, rushing out the door in urgency. Her eyes scanned the landscape of their small village, her eyes widening with dread at the horrifying sight that unfolded before her.

The village, the place she had called home all her life, was engulfed in an all-consuming blaze, flames licking at everything in sight. More screams sent her heart racing. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, who to help first.

She found her neighbor, who desperately carried a bucket of water, and ran to him. “What is going on?”

“I don’t know.” He answered, his voice frantic. “They say it’s a wildfire from the drought but it started in the granaries. Get your grandmother and mother and run.”

Saoirse nodded as she turned around in haste, making her way back to her home. The flames danced freely in the village, their fierce, unwavering embrace swallowing everything in their path. The once-charming cottages, adorned with vibrant fall flower boxes, now stood cloaked in orange and red. She held her hands up toward the flames, beckoning her powers to ignite. Perhaps, she could manipulate the flames to turn away from the village.

Nothing happened and it was then that a terrifying realization dawned on her. This was no ordinary fire. It was fire sparked from magic. Saoirse willed her legs to run faster as plumes of smoke twisted upward, smudging the sky with a toxic charcoal hue.

The air grew thick with the smoke and somber chorus of crackling flames. Villagers, gripped by fear and despair, dashed frantically. Like her neighbor, they hauled buckets of water in a futile attempt to quell the unrelenting blaze.

She was almost home when she heard a sudden and loud sequence of snapping. A massive tree limb plunged directly in her path, sending her stumbling and crashing into the fallen leaves below. Panic surged as a terrified scream escaped from her lips, watching in horror as the tree she once climbed as a child splintered and fractured. It’s trunk plummeted, crashing over her house with a resounding, earth-shaking roar.

“Nana!” She cried, crawling to her burning house.

The smoke burned her lungs as she rose to her feet. She hurried to the door of her house but there was fire everywhere, keeping her from entering. Her hands extended once more, a desperate attempt to summon her powers. She could feel a trickle of blood run down from her nose at the exertion. Nothing.

With another desperate cry, she kicked at the door, not caring if the flames engulfed her. “Nana!”

She could hear the faint sound of coughing. “Saoirse!”

“Nana,” she almost cried in relief but no matter how much she kicked and threw herself against the door, it would not budge.

“It’s alright, my sweet Sersh.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. No. She refused to accept this.

“No, it’s not! I need to get you two out of there.”

She continued to kick and scratch at the door desperately. Blood trickled from her hands. "Please," she begged. To the Cauldron, to the Mother. Anyone. "Please."

But there was no answer. Only silence. A deathly stillness that enveloped around her, choking her just as the flames threatened to.

Her shoulders slumped and she collapsed against the door. Her vision blurred from all the smoke and tears. The fire’s glowing fingers reached out hungrily as it continued to sear over. More trees collapsed. The once tranquil village was now a chaotic scene of devastation. Saoirse let her eyes close as she gave up. Broken sobs wracked her body. 

She wanted the flames to swallow her whole.

**

Saoirse did not know how much time had passed but the sounds of the roaring fire gradually came to stop. She sharply sucked in a breath, regretting it as it burned her lungs and brought her into a coughing fit.  She had curled into herself and was no longer leaning against the door to her home.

When Saoirse finally opened her eyes, she realized it was because there was no longer a door. There was no longer a home. She was met with the devastated landscape of the village. Her home, it now held only desolation.

She was the only living body among the piles of ashes and splintered bones. They covered the ground like a blanket, a silent witness to the fire’s destruction. Her clothes had burnt off, leaving her skin to be tainted by the stains of ash and smoke. Tears were caked onto her face.

Despite the intense heat that had engulfed her entire village and burned through her clothes, she remained unscratched…untouched by the flames that ravaged everything around her ruthlessly.

The flames had flickered in a strange familiarity. This was no wildfire as she had confirmed earlier. This fire had burned and blazed through the village with a purpose. To destroy her.

She knew her existence would not be a welcomed one. It had never been a matter of if but when. This could not be a coincidence, not when the High Lord’s son recently celebrated his first name day and was christened as Autumn’s heir…

Her father had found her. This fire was meant for her, to burn her alive and silence her forever. But she did not burn. The fire inside her blazed brighter than the inferno that had been sent to her.

All she had wanted was to live her life in secrecy and peace with her grandmother and mother at her side but now...

The two people she cared and loved the most were dead, taken from her. She lost everything...because of him.

She felt a heat surge through her body. Her skin, her veins, her bones. A spark of light burst forth from her chest, right where her roaring heart was. There was a tiny, defiant glow there. A stark contrast amid the gray surroundings.  

Come on, rise up, the spark beckoned her and then her legs were moving before she could process the command.

She emerged from the ashes, standing tall amidst the lingering smoke. Her mouth held the taste of sorrow, intertwined with the metallic tang of blood. Her once dark brown eyes now burned a vibrant gold, flickering with an inner flame.

From the glowing ember within her chest, wisps of fire snaked out, coiling around her shoulders and forming fiery wings, a vivid and brilliant display of life and rebirth. Each beat of them stirred the ashes around her in a magical whirlwind. 

She was a phoenix, a breathtaking manifestation of flame and ash, and she was burning with an insatiable thirst for revenge. 

A/N: the song reader's mother was singing was my city of ruins by bruce springsteen. I picked it bc I really liked the lyrics and while it's a worship song, I did find it was fitting to her mother's and beron's story. Adult Eris along with Lucien and the other brothers will make appearances in the next parts.

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[fxns-for-l1f3]

HAHADA KINDERGARTEN 3!!

STEVIE FANART BECAUSE I LOVE HIM

Honestly I hope the original hall monitor gets a better relationship with Stevie, idk why but I find their dynamic really cute and I just hope they can be friends

[onlymurdersintheafterparty]

OMITB S4:E3 ‘Two for the Road’

This episode was interesting and raised even more questions. While we start off and end the episode with the trio, in most of the episode we watch them branch off with their respective actors and have their own mini adventures. I thought it was a great idea to give us a better idea of who Zach, Eugene, and Eva are in this universe and to delve more into the main characters’ personalities apart from each other. There were several bombshells dropped so as always spoilers are behind the cut.

At the beginning of the episode, we find out from Detective Williams that the FBI has taken over meaning she won’t be on the case. That doesn’t stop her from giving them what information she does have as well as breaking the fourth wall in reference to the three previous seasons which was hilarious. We also learn that she’s a fan of Zach Galifianakis when she discovers the actors are also in the apartment and threatens Oliver not to let him get hurt and implies he’s her hall pass 🤭 Honestly same bc the man is not only hilarious but handsome as well. Shortly after she leaves is when everyone branches off so I’m going to break up each segment based off the duo.

Oliver and Zach don’t do any intentional sleuthing this episode. Oliver is fed up with Zach’s indifference and lack of desire to connect so he lies saying they need to monitor the ham radio and whisks him off to his apartment. I know Oliver is a mess but I really don’t like the way that Zach treats him like a loser. At some point they appear to bond as Oliver teaches Zach how to snort, grunt, and dress like him which seems to have gone well until Zach is overheard saying otherwise. Howard tries his best to stand up for Oliver in that passive aggressive way and we know he means well but it ultimately does nothing to change Zach’s impression. I agree on one thing though: Oliver’s resilience and choosing to wake up happy every day despite the chaos is admirable. That’s what life is about because every day is a chance to change your fate.

Charles and Eugene’s dynamic was different. Are they buddies? No but they both have the same goal in mind which is to get Vince to take off his eyepatch to see if he’s hiding damage from the gun recoiling. These two clearly share one brain cell because every attempt failed. First they come up with a story about Charles having a cousin who is an eye doctor with magic eye drops that they swear will work wonders. Instead of taking off his eyepatch then and there, Vince instead goes into the privacy of his bathroom. Take two goes even worse because Eugene’s idea of doing a spit take to get the eyepatch off leads to him getting punched in the face by Vince after he spits water on him. It does lead to a clue though. When they all hug it out, Eugene notices a photograph and signals for Charles to view it. It’s all the Westies and a figure with their face scribbled out. What in the world is going on here? Is Dudenoff Moriarty? Is Dudenoff not even involved and someone else just utilized his apartment as originally suspected? I’m so confused.

Mabel and Eva were giving frenemies. No actual hate, just two people forced together with nothing in common. Though her methods were unconventional and unhinged, Eva did manage to get a lot of info for Mabel.

The gun on the mantle is a movie prop that shoots nerf gun like ammo

Christmas Guy HATES Christmas; now this had me shook ngl; this man is a fitness influencer who has been typecast into a Christmas role and is basically held hostage by his decor 😭

The tinsel is not tinsel!

A few days ago I made a post about a theory regarding the killer(s) and whether or not they were in attendance at the party in the S3 finale and @bbeeebbo brought up a really good point about the tinsel being a red herring for Christmas Guy and that it very well could have been from the party. While we have yet to confirm if it was from the party, we now have confirmation that it’s actually not tinsel at all!

The sleuthing with the two ends shortly after this reveal and we see Mabel get the idea to look up squatter’s rights and temporarily move into the Dudenoff apartment. When they all reunite at the end for Mabel’s housewarming party, they put their clues together and realize that 445 is a radio frequency. Earlier when Mabel and Eva were sleuthing they discovered a ham radio in the Christmas apartment as well so clearly the Westies have some secret communication going on. When Mabel turns on the radio to the right frequency, a woman responds and tells them to stop snooping because the last person that did so is dead (Sazz). She also was in a hurry to disconnect giving the impression she’s on the run. Is she the mysterious Dudenoff or a tenant we have yet to meet? I’m so confused!

Final Thoughts

I feel like the writers have caught on to how smart the redditors are because a lot of theories were confirmed or debunked this episode. Someone theorized Mabel might end up squatting in the Dudenoff apartment which she does at the end of the episode and another theorized that Vince’s eyepatch was to cover a bruise from the gun’s recoil which is false (he actually does have pink eye and it’s gnarly 🤢). I’m bracing myself for the moment in the season finale where everything was obvious af and I was just overthinking everything 😂 What do you guys think so far now that we’re 3 episodes into the season?

[blognam333z]

Part 2 Prompt: After that miserable failure, the subordinate alien was put in time out. The boss sees this not as a warning but gives him more reason to believe that possessing a human body will be his perfect vessel. He kidnap another human and swap his mind with it. This time put the human, now in his real form, in containment as he has knowledge of its limits and needs. The boss relish the taste of pineapple juice, caffeine and other things deme poisonous for most extraterrestrial life forms in the universe! He feels invincible, but one challenge awaited him: sleep. Hardly any alien species outside from a human experience total consciousness shut down, the alien equivalent of DEATH.

This is what makes humans unique, even humans can’t explain. Many tales of visions of the future, sometimes a different life, sometimes randomness of memories and ideas woven together. The boss was hesitant, he made sure he’ll be monitored and secure surveillance so he won’t be disturbed.

It was suppose to be simple the human said, but the one thing he didn’t told him is the Paralysis demon.

The boss once he’s in trance and his subordinates guard outside in the hall standing on the front door of the room. He closes his eyes once the room grown dark… instead of nothingness or dreams. His eyes are closed yet he could still see the room, and wait what’s that dark figure in the room? Is that a human- no the guards should be alerted- no it’s getting closer he must grab his weapon, now! Why can’t he move- why can’t he see it’s face- why is it- That’s not a human… S-Stop! Stay back! I must call them- Someone help! W-why can’t I scream!? He can’t move, No, NO, NOOOOO-

Meanwhile in the prison cell:

H: *vibing in meditation* (mind: honestly this isn’t that bad, I could use a snickers bar now…)

In the morning

The boss alien let out a scream, petrified, drench in sweat: AAAAHH!!!

Guard A 1: Boss what’s wrong-

Boss A: YOU FOOLS I was endangered! I was attacked!

Guard A 2: Attacked? No I reviewed the security and there’s no-

Boss A: SILENCE! GIVE ME THE FOOTAGE!

Snatched the tablet and saw nothing

Guard A 1: B-Boss? Are you- you’re shaking

Boss A: I need to see the human… in my vessel, now! He’s hiding something from me!

In the prison cell:

H: What’s up- ohh… you look terrible, actually did I just insulted myself?

Boss A: No time for JOKES, Human explain this- this shadow beast! This beast whom-

H: What shadow beast? *thinks for a moment* Oooh… OOOOH! *laughs*

Boss A: What’s so funny? I knew you’re hiding information! Explain yourself at once!

H: Okay that’s a paralysis demon, it’s somehow attracted to humans, but not everyone. It’s unknown where they originated or why it stalk us in our sleep. Forced our eyes to see beyond our unconscious body, helpless, unmoving. Do I got it all check out on what you’ve just experienced, big guy?

Boss A: YES you did, now how do you get rid of it!

H: *laughs* get rid of it? What do you mean get rid of it?

Boss A: *growl* Human! Tell me or else!

H: There’s no way to get rid of it, it’s in a plain beyond our reach. No matter if you have someone in the room next to you or a weapon, it’ll always find appear before you. All you can do is wait until it’s bored or move on to the next human. For some unfortunate, it could last a life time. Legends say Paralysis demons devour a quarter or half a human life span. That somehow they flourish in our psyche energy, that’s why they’re invincible… even unreachable. (Mind: Just the look on his face! He’s going to lend me my body back! That’s what you get from taking my body! Let’s gooo my paralysis demon!)