#other being Through or in the vicinity of larger cities but other than that like. through/near boston. pittsburgh...?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

minneapolis, so far…(and a little Chicago)!!!

from erica durham (chiffon)

[sevenrs]

its ocposting time

SLUGCATS

the arsonist (she/her)

a small slugcat, a bit larger than a pup but smaller than usual adult size. through her first encounter with an iterator, she learned how to set the ends of spears on fire. this fire can then be thrown at enemies to deal a lot of damage over time. but she needs to be careful not to hold the spears for too long, lest she burns her paws.

a very energetic and playful slugcat, she likes to rough house and wrestle with others of her kind. sometimes she may go too far and accidentally hurt her playmate, but she is quick to back off and apologize

-

the scholar (they/them)

a slugcat with painted patterns, reminiscent of old ancient graffiti on their cities. they have a sling made of salvaged fabric to collect their favorite thing in the world: colored pearls! they are faster then average, but are weighed down the more pearls they carry around.

they are a very far traveller, searching the land for still remaining superstructures to have interesting bits and bobbles of their information read out. they cannot write, but they have pretty good memory and often store similar pearls with each other to strengthen said memory.

-

the neuron pups (any) designed by @/ambadsador-blip

modified neuron flies to model the nimble slugcat. they are a modified species of individuals. though they vary in size, on average, they are slightly smaller than an actual slugpup. their bodies are multi-colored and can often shift between hues. they are highly adaptable to navigating in zero gravity, and struggle to move when taken outside of an iterator. they do not need to eat, as they are supplied nutrients by their iterator. they quickly starve if removed from the vicinity of an iterator.

they like to swarm together, but have a scatter instinct when attacked. they were synthesized by paradox of creation in order to give their neurons a better chance to flee and survive their rouge inspectors.

-

ITERATORS

brass lining (they/them)

im sorry you have a nearly year old ref

a structure barely standing on three legs, they are placed in a darker corner of the world only illuminated by the occasional flickering spotlight. it is as abandoned as they are with water levels decreasing every few cycles.

they most a vast majority of their memories-- most of their neuron flies flew out of their structure when an old, corroding battery within exploded. in part it was due to their increasing frustration of the great problem. the extra anger heated their systems to unsustainable levels, and being an older model, there weren't many checks to override them and prevent damage. all they have left are the three trapped in their puppet and a distant sense of self.

-

chains by summer (he/him)

lives in a large oasis centered in a desert reigon. it has been surprisingly stable, but in recent years, consistent water is beginning to become questionable. nontheless, summer still stands with few complications compared to other iterators (well, aside from the usual decay of equipment and communication senders and recievers)

for the most part, summer has stopped iterating. it is pointless to him. there are simply too many things that can be iterated-- it will take time much longer than anyone has to find the solution. so he hangs around, bothering his local group and letting the local slugcat, the arsonist, take refuge away from the brutal environment.

-

three star songs (she/they/it)

placed high where mountain break the sky, song's structure looks fine... externally. internally, it is full of the contagion, the rot. a sign that something went wrong, that someone messed up. it is a slow and painful consequence for anyone who wasn't careful

she loved to frequent anonymous group chats back when all iterators were more connected. these chats were about creating new organisms through modifying their genetics. song had an immense passion for coming up with instructions to make anything-- even if it was not a good life for the creature with that adaptation. a small slugcat wandered into her can one cycle, and she had an idea of swapping some of her own microbes with that of the slugcat's. it did not go well-- the foreign cells mutated beyond her control, and now they aim to eat them from the inside out.

-

paradox of creation (any) designed by @/meatcatt

set in an open, grassy field that is relatively flat with a few weaving rivers, this area is surprisingly clean (in comparison to the rest of the world) of ancient influence, save for the massive structure in the middle of the tall grasses. it's a relatively peaceful spot. if only it were the same inside as it was outside

a series of unlucky events leaves paradox in a state of disarray and constant pain. a small white bug, shaped similarly to the neuron flies within them, began to see the flies as a source of easy food. paradox's inspectors rightfully protected the neurons, but due to the bug's similarities, they began to see every neuron fly as an enemy. in order to remedy this, she got advice from an old friend, none of the above, to make neurons that could better avoid the angry inspectors. he takes great interest in the stars, positioning most of their overseers on the highest points of their abandoned cities to observe their movements and patterns. their constant pain leaves them quite tired and drained most cycles, but they still try to find joy in their existence and wish to share it with others.

[voxiiferous]

Vox's Tower

Located in the heart of Vox's vast empire is his tower. It's the tallest building in the Blue Light District, in the part of the city that already tends to tower above the rest of the Pentagram. The overwhelming majority of everything Vox-branded goes through the tower to some degree

It's currently 115 floors, though that has slowly been added to over the last several decades. Like his district as a whole, and his branding overall, it has a sleek, modern aesthetic to it, and from the outside the overarching impression is just that it is replete and resplendent in windows. There are so many windows-- which, in fairness to his employees, they enjoy what natural light they can get.

There are vending machines scattered throughout the entire building, and they frequently become the testing grounds for new products. As for the building itself, it's a rectangular shape, with elevators in both ends, and stairs running all the way up and down it, though most people don't use them. The general layout of each floor varies in its specifics depending on what it needs, but general trends are evident. Most of the time, hallways ring the perimeter of the floor, and cut through the middle so the windows are not obstructed, but neither are rooms that require being closed in on all sides.

The bottom five levels are not open to the public, and see little traffic. These basement levels are mostly used as storage: old costumes, set pieces, records, et cetera. However, it also holds quite a lot of basic survival supplies like water, food, blankets, and places for people to sleep. In the case of Extermination, or some other major disaster, employees and others in the general vicinity of the tower can be brought in to wait it out without fear. In many ways, it is a relic of the war time bomb shelter mentality.

The lobby, which most people consider the first floor, even if, technically, it is the sixth, is built to to impress. Like with the building as a whole, there are windows on all sides, but of these windows, several have fancy waterfall features, some of which carry through some other areas of the tower that see the most traffic. From the outside, these waterfalls windows helps create an illusion wealth and modernity, and in the lobby itself are several other water features to further impress people who ender the building and create their first impressions.

The bottom half of the tower is the most public facing part of the tower, and the part devoted to media creation.

The lower floors are the larger studios. The first of these get used most for ad segments music videos, in which they need the space but in which props and sets are most often interchanged. Just above those are the sitcoms, gameshows, talk shows, anything else like that. these are the productions that need larger, but ultimately static set. These are more permanent and expansive, and thus, smarter to keep nearer to the ground. These floors tend to have quite a lot of traffic going in and out.

Productions that need multiple sets or just significantly larger installations than can be accomplished in the tower go in other outlying studios-- this is where movies get made.

Above that is the first major cohort of office spaces. These are areas used, primarily for behind the scenes personnel. It has writers rooms, spaces for people working on special effects and other post-production edits, it's where the costume designers are locate (originally all of these people were located in the uppermost office floors before realizing having them close at hand to the people they were working with was more useful.

Going up is the floors devoted to music. These floors have rows upon rows of recording booths of various sizes, designed for everything from single musicians or audiobook narrators, to full ensemble band sized spaces.

Above that is the section dedicated most to music. This has many floors of recording booths of various sizes, smaller ones for single people, most often used by audiobooks, and larger ones for whole ensemble bands.

The middle of the building is the section Vox spends, arguably, the least time in. It's devoted to the employees, and acts as a multi-floor break room in many ways. The bottom floor has the most seating, because the entire section is shaped as an atrium. These middling floors mean that employees who spend most time in either half of the building tend to be roughly the same distance from it. They have amenitites like a cafeteria, but scattered throughout ate other outlets like a Voxbucks; there's microwaves, and a communal kitchen that doesn't tend to see a lot of use but remains clean and well kept.

It's sort of like an in-house mall for the employees. The food is moderately priced and tends to be relatively good, there's clothing stores (because incidents happen and its easier to replace clothing if its on hand), and a gym (most often frequented by people on their breaks who are dieting, or actors that have been told to lose weight for a part), and showers (because, once again, incidents happen, especially on set).

The higher you go, it becomes evident the average person is not designed to be here. The floors above the break area are mostly used for people outside of the immediate media production.

Directly above the break area is the part dedicated to technology. This area of the tower is where actual hardware is developed, and prototypes undergo their first few rounds of testing in rooms set aside for that purpose. This means that when things like controllers for drones fail, the average employee is not impacted, and a controlled environment is provided. This is also where longer term tests are conducted, such as those set at varying temperatures to test for things like expiry dates. This serves as the R&D department. When cameras or microphones break down in the lower floors, it's the people on these floor called in for repairs.

The uppermost floors are boardrooms and meeting rooms, offices, and office cubicles. Business meetings are struck up here, and the windows provide an imposing view of the district and everything Vox has made. The lawyers, architects, accountants, HR, et cetera, et cetera end up here. If you're an office worker, this is where you're ending up almost without fail. Vox's actual office is on these floors (not counting the smaller space he has in his penthouse just a few floors up).

The uppermost floor is Vox's penthouse. The elevator doesn't lead directly into it, but to a small antechamber, because very few people actually have clearance to enter his house.

In part because he lives here, and there is no shortage of people who work late, the building itself never closes properly. Frequently enough when Vox can't sleep, he ends up walking through the buildings. Some of the people who have ascended to department managers with soul-bonds are people he meets walking through the building late at night.

[oppositesattraxt]

𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗴𝗼 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀

𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞

✎ wolves are more prone to 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 behaviours during a full moon

✎ shifting is 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥

✎ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 do not exist in the traditional sense. they can choose their mates but once mated, it is hard to break and causes extreme pain for the wolves if one dies - driving the mate still living to insanity

✎ abo refers to the pack dynamics. 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚 being the pack leader, 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 underneath them and 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚 are the caregivers or the lone wolves of the pack

✎ males have 𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐬, females have 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 and this is the time where they are highly fertile and extremely aroused

✎ a werewolf bite can turn a 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 if bitten on a full moon

✎ vampires and werewolves don't mix, they are 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 enemies

✎ their wolf is like another part of them, they can 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 with their wolf to be more in tune with themselves

✎ wolves are weak against 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫, wolfsbane and are extremely weak during 𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐬

✎ major injuries can leave permanent scars. some wolves carry these proudly while others cover them up

✎ all senses are supernaturally heightened, they are 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 and faster than humans, and can be highly emotional when under the influence of the 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

✎ they run high body 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 and are extremely active. they eat a lot as well

✎ protective and 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥

✎ age slower than humans but are not 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥

𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤

✎ the 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 pack is a small pack who has a small territory just outside of seoul. due to their closeness to the city, they are often targeted by bigger packs to try and get closer. this has caused the alphas of the pack to grow increasingly aggressive, stronger and more protective than most other alphas

✎ they are only friendly with 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 other packs. these packs are @clubwnderland jongin and chris' packs as well as @moonlightchn chan's pack. while hongjoong isn't the friendliest with anyone, he is more open to communicating with these packs. mikyoung, however, only knows them by name

✎ the pack laws are quite 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 and archaic. due to how small the pack is, hongjoong refuses to change the way things are and mikyoung tends to rebel against these stereotypes and rules even at the risk of consequences

✎ hongjoong lives at the pack house. the rest of the pack have houses around the 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 and in close vicinity to the pack house. mikyoung lives outside of the pack's territory but is always closely watched. it is safer for the pack to remain close together but mikyoung finds it restrictive

✎ the pack works together and share a lot of the wealth and 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞. they all work to keep the pack running and safe as well as benefiting from anything that they do. mikyoung working in a supernatural co-ed school means the pack's young are able to attend

✎ the pack often do 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 and moon cycle events. these can range from mating rituals, worshipping the moon goddess or just parties that allow them to mingle with friendly packs

𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚/𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚/𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞

✎ 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬 are stronger than the others in the pack. they are able to move faster and have better reflexes. while all wolves have heightened senses - an alpha's is distinctly more heightened which makes them more powerful than anyone else. alpha wolves are typically larger in size than the others. they are more often male but its known that female alphas are stronger than their male counterparts. the only way a wolf can become alpha is either through birthright, challenging an alpha and winning or getting enough support from other wolves and completing a ritual under the full moon.

✎ 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐬 are kind of the middle ground in the pack. they are the more common types of wolves met and are more often found than alphas or omegas due to their abundance. they have the most varieties in size and appearances and will often do as they please unless commanded by their alpha. they can be male or female with a range of personality types. if they are kicked out of a pack, they can become an omega and it is possible for a beta to become an alpha but it isn't an easy feat.

✎ 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐬 are considered the weakest of the pack. they are smaller in size if they are female. male omegas are hard to distinguish from betas since they are large but they do tend to leave packs due to a lack of belonging. male omegas typically are given the rank due to their birth, they are either born to an unmated omega or they were abandoned. a female omega is more through their scent and size. a male omega can work his way up to beta but a female cannot. they are often trained for mating and take care of the young. it isn't uncommon for an omega to be given to an alpha until he finds his mate. they are very docile and gentle, caregivers and are known to be more quiet than others

𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝

[chai-tealattae]

Pen Pals

soul mate /ˈsōl ˌmāt/

noun; a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✒️ Pairing: Taehyung x reader

✒️ Genre: Fluff

✒️ Word Count: 2.4k

✒️ Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This is my first fic pls be nice AKSDK

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Tomorrow was your 21st birthday, the day your soulmate connection would be revealed to you. You’d heard stories from your parents, family friends, and even some of your friends that were a year or two older than you about the different connections. What if you got one that would make it damn near impossible to find them? What if your soulmate was older than you, and already knew, but gave up since you were too young? You sighed and laid flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, giving up on your futile attempts at a decent night's sleep, your mind hot with the different scenarios baking within it.

The next morning, you groaned and begrudgingly swung your legs over the side of your bed, stretching as you opened the curtains, the mid morning sunlight flooding into your room. You cringed slightly at the brightness, your eyes struggling to adjust. Yawning as you walked into your kitchen, deciding on a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Scrolling through your phone as you ate, you smiled as you read the birthday wishes from your friends and family. After replying to as many as you felt like doing, you opened Twitter to see what fresh hell awaited you on your timeline. Surprisingly there wasn't really anything bad being mercilessly tweeted about.

The one thing that caught your eye was the lovely photo on your screen, tweeted a couple hours ago, staring back at you. It was embarrassing how infatuated you were with a certain man by the name of Kim Taehyung. He was the perfect man, in all honesty, by your standards at least. He was devilishly handsome yet charmingly adorable from the tip of his nose down to his toes, the smallest details all adding to the things that caused him to worm his way into your heart.

You smiled as you saved the picture to your camera roll before setting your phone down on the table. Your smile quickly turned into a surprised squeak as you felt an oddly ticklish sensation on your wrist, and you stared down at it in shock. Appearing on your skin before your eyes was writing, but it wasn't just any writing. It was a greeting.

“Hello?”

This must be it, your soulmate bond. You didn’t know anyone personally with this particular bond, but you’d read about it through your countless nights of curiosity and excitement driven research.

You nearly tripped on your own feet as you scrambled to find some kind of writing utensil, eager to respond to the stranger. Not just a stranger. Your soulmate. You felt your heart rate quicken just at that thought. You found a pen on your counter, quickly scribbling a response below their message.

“Hello!” You wrote back. Not 30 seconds later, you felt the tickling sensation again, impatiently tapping your pen on the counter as you awaited their response.

“It’s you! You’re finally getting my notes!” You smiled to yourself, your late night suspicion confirming itself. They were definitely older than you, but hopefully not by much. You’d hate if you left your soulmate waiting for too long for you.

“How long have you been trying?” You wrote, a little smaller this time near the ditch of your elbow, so you wouldn’t take up too much valuable space on your skin. You bit your lip as you felt your skin tingle again, hoping it wasn’t too bad-

“Four years” Four years. Four whole years they’d been writing on themselves with no response. You sighed, feeling awful. Well, at least you knew how old they were. Twenty-five, twenty-six tops, if their birthday was coming up sometime soon.

“I'm sorry you waited so long… today is my 21st birthday” you wrote back, twisting your arm at a slightly awkward angle as you did this. You smiled softly, growing familiar with, and anticipating the feeling as they wrote.

“Happy birthday :)” Was written there. You smiled and wrote your thanks, not really sure how to proceed with finding them. You’d read that there were specific guidelines when it came to the different connections, things you weren’t able to do, since that would make finding your soulmate too easy. Things like their exact location, names, things of that nature. The catch is, you were able to reveal that when you were in the same vicinity. As if trying to find them wouldn’t be hard enough.

Over the next month or so, you’d learned that your soulmate was a man that was born in South Korea (you didn’t know how you’d ever be able to swing a trip there, or vice versa). You learned that he enjoyed drawing, painting, photography, singing and dancing. He was fun to talk to (at least until there wasn't any more space on either of your bodies for more ink). He had a pretty time consuming career from what he told you, but he still liked to draw you pictures to wake up to, or write you little good morning messages. You found yourself becoming incredibly fond of him, even without ever seeing his face.

One day, you found yourself staring at your laptop and phone screens, focusing excruciatingly hard on trying to score tickets to see BTS in your city. After nearly missing the opportunity, and a decent amount of money you’d surely have to pull quite a bit of overtime to make up for, you scored a decent seat for their show in a couple months. Eager to share the news with someone, you wrote on your arm.

“I just got tickets to see BTS!!” You wrote with a shaky hand, your already poor penmanship suffering even more. This would be your first time seeing them, seeing the man you’d had your eyes on for so long.

~~~~~

Taehyung smiled when he felt you were writing or perhaps drawing something for him. He loved reading your short messages about your day, getting to know you. Over the past months he was growing more and more impatient, half tempted to fly to the States and wing it. His heart nearly thudded out of his chest when he read what you wrote.

“I just got tickets to see BTS!!”

Holy shit. This was good. This was great, actually. Now he knew you were a fan. Jimin looked over when he saw the stupid grin plastered on his bandmate’s face.

“What is it, Taehyung-ah?” He asked. Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, just angled his arm so Jimin could see what you wrote. He broke into his own smile. “Oh this is good! Maybe you're closer to meeting her than you thought.” He said, patting the younger man’s back. Taehyung smiled with a nod, you being the only thing occupying his mind at the moment.

~~~~~

It was the day of your concert and you could barely contain your excitement. You barely slept the night before, knowing you would be exhausted, but couldn't find it in yourself to care all too much. You’d been waiting for what seemed like forever for this day, and weren't going to let anything, not even your lack of sleep, ruin it for you.

The day seemed to drag even longer than usual, before you figured it was a good time to start getting ready. You got dressed in an outfit that you purchased specifically for this event, a more affordable version of the Dior outfits Rap Line sported during their performances of Tear, and you put on your TaTa headband as the final touch. You know, so everyone knew specifically who you were there for. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, smiling and letting out an excited squeak as you grabbed everything you would need, before you made your way to the venue.

The venue was absolutely packed. There was no way you’d be able to even get any merch without missing half the concert standing in that line. You sighed quietly to yourself and went to your seat, busying yourself with syncing your lightstick so it would light up with everyone else's. You looked around from your seat, in awe about how many people were here. Crazy how many people could fit into one space.

While you waited for the concert to start, you decided to write him a message about how excited you were, and that you would keep him updated throughout the show. You decided to draw a small heart on your hand, in the space between your pointer finger and thumb, just because. You smiled when you saw his words appear on your arm.

“Have fun <3”

Oh, you would. You would have the time of your life. Little did you know, in more ways than one.

~~~~

Taehyung knew you had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair, effectively rendering his stylist’s hard work useless. He couldn’t help it. Not when he knew his soulmate was in this building. His mind started to race. What if you didn’t want to be with him? What if you liked one of the other members better than him? What if you couldn’t deal with his lifestyle? He was pacing now, and everyone but him seemed to notice.

“Taehyung-ah, relax. I’m sure everything will work out fine.” Namjoon smiled reassuringly. Taehyung nodded and let out a breath, sitting down. They were called to start getting into position, and Taehyung knew he had to do it, now or he wouldn’t have time, and you would slip through his fingers. He pulled out his pen, writing one word on his forearm in larger than usual letters. He put his pen in his pocket, heading to where his microphone and earpieces were waiting for him, hoping you would see his message.

~~~~~

When the concert started, you could barely focus on anything else other than the men on stage in front of you. You felt the familiar tickle on your arm that your soulmate had written you, though you ignored it for the time being. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of Taehyung, witnessing his incredible stage presence and the massive amount of fan service he was giving was mesmerising, to say the least.

When time for the intermission came around, and the VCRs played on the big screens, you took a moment to see what your soulmate wrote to you. You gasped when you saw the big, capital letters spread along the length of your forearm.

“TAEHYUNG”

There was no way. Absolutely no fucking way. Kim Taehyung was not your soulmate. You had to have been some sort of saint in your previous life to deserve such treatment from the universe. You stared at your arm for a few more seconds in complete disbelief, before taking your pen out of your pocket, writing your name under his on your arm. A minute later, you felt him writing, and you anxiously chewed at your lip as you awaited his response.

“Where are you?”

You hurriedly scribbled your section and seat number, your brain barely able to process what was happening.

Within 5 minutes, there was a man approaching you, asking you to confirm your name. When you did, he told you to come with him, you did without asking any questions. The man led you backstage, and you looked around, frantically trying to find the familiar face in the crowd of stage hands.

When your eyes finally met his, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Was it anxiety? Excitement? A spicy mixture of both? You couldn’t really tell, but there were some things you needed to see. His long legs effortlessly closed the distance between you, until you were standing toe to toe. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, neither of you truly believing you were here at this moment. You studied his face for a moment, then without a word, you took his hands, inspecting them. There it was. You brought your hand up and compared, the tiny heart you drew on your hand matching the one on his. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the messages you’d written to each other throughout the day.

“Y/N…” He said quietly, only loud enough that you could hear. “I finally found you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“I can’t believe it’s you.” You said as you looked up at him, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.  He smiled and brought his hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against your cheekbone.  

“Are you disappointed?” He asked with a chuckle, his tone teasing. You shook your head, letting out a quiet laugh.

“Not even a little bit.” You reassured him, smiling softly. He gave you a toothy grin before leaning down and closing the small space between you, and you couldn’t help but melt when his lips finally met yours. The kiss was soft and careful, as if he was testing the waters. When you pushed slightly against his lips, he deepened the kiss just a little more.

He was the first to pull away, seemingly remembering his surroundings, and you caught the faintest tint of pink creep onto his face. It was almost time for him to go back on stage, and he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, his eyes locked with yours as he intertwined your fingers with his.

“Wait for me? I plan to talk to you for hours, now that I can finally hear your voice.” He said, and you nodded without hesitation. He smiled widely before pressing a kiss to your forehead, jogging off to wherever it was he was needed. You sat on the couch that was there for the members beside the stage, running a hand through your hair. Never in your wildest dreams did you think something like this could happen. Not to you, at least. You felt him writing again, and this time, you paid full attention to the words appearing along your arm.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you read those 3 words, pulling out your pen and writing your response.

“I love you too.” You wrote, carefully, easily readable. Never had you meant something more in your life. You couldn’t wait for him to come back to you, for him to execute his plan. After what felt like a very long time, you couldn’t wait to finally begin your life with the man you happily called your soulmate.

[loosesodamarble]

a slap of inspiration, you say...maybe write one of your ocs somehow being transported to another world? perhaps as a crossover into another fandom you write for? (something like helia waking up to find herself on azula's ship in book 2, or something as such — although i doubt azula would appreciate stowaways 😅) that could be fun~

Heya Sera! I'm so very sorry about the long wait. I do appreciate your inspiration was very nice. But perhaps it might have been too powerful because I kept on thinking of various crossovers and character interactions to do. And even when I decided what I'd do, I had to actually type it out instead of it just manifesting in the word doc as soon as I think it. Then, with the semester starting a bit ago, I kind of set the project aside. So sorry!

But! Now it's hear! The result of your inspiration!

Crossover: Demon Slayer and Black Clover

Summary: Shizuka finds herself with the Black Bulls after stumbling through a magical portal. An assortment of interactions where she's reminded of home.

Genre: general

Word count: ~2000

..........

Shizuka and the Black Bulls

Shizuka woke up to a completely foreign roof. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes while sitting up. Looking around, she found herself in an open living space. Western furniture like armchairs and high tables were set up around the room. Shizuka herself was lying on a couch.

What is this place? Shizuka shut her eyes tight and focused on the scents that were in the building.

Humans, a good number of them. Some scents were stronger than others, meaning that the owners of the fainter ones were not in the building at the moment. There was something off about the human smells, though. It was something she didn’t recognize. And besides humans, there was the scent of something bitter and unnatural. The odor reminded Shizuka of demons and vampires but without the weight of death to it.

How did I get here? Shizuka set her feet on the floor and stood. I remember… She rubbed her temple. Chasing down a vampire through a glowing wall and then…

Everything became a blur after that. Then darkness. And now she woke up in an unknown location. No knowledge. No allies. No—

Shizuka finally noticed the lack of weight on her belt. She whipped her head around, checking for her nichirin blades within the vicinity of the couch. Their scent was still within the building but they weren’t in the room.

They confiscated my weapons so I’m defensel— Someone’s approaching! Shizuka faced the archway that the mystery person was approaching from. She readied a stance. Even without a weapon, she wasn’t going to let herself be taken out easily. I’ll have to figure out whatever that mystery scent is later.

About a minute later, a man appeared. He was tall, extremely muscular—He looks to be on par with Uzui-sama, Shizuka thought as her dread grew—and dark-haired. On the left side of his belt was a sword sheath. He carried both of Shizuka’s blades in a single hand. He may not have been Tengen, but the man was still a great deal larger and stronger than Shizuka.

Perhaps if I move fast enough, I can swipe them from his grip. Shizuka prepared to take a step forward when the man spoke.

“Relax, kid, I’m not gonna fight ya’.”

“[Huh? What did you say?]” Shizuka could tell that the sounds were similar to what she heard in the big city once before but she couldn’t make actual sense of them. “[Can my situation get any worse]?”

“Heh…” The man smiled before letting out an uproarious chortle. “[So I was right!]”

“[You… speak Japanese?]” asked Shizuka, still on edge with the stranger. Or at least it sounded close enough to Japanese. His consonants were a bit sharper and the rhythm he spoke with didn’t match any other she had heard.

“[Hm? Japanese?]” The man’s brow furrowed. “[Guess you’re not quite what I thought. Eh, whatever,]” the man said while placing his free hand behind his head. “[The name’s Yami Sukehiro. And who’re you, kid?]”

“[Shizuka Hisasue. I’m a member of the Demon Slayer Corps,]” Shizuka stated proudly while drawing herself up. Even if it doesn’t mean anything here, being a slayer is part of me.

“[No idea what that is but sounds interesting.]” Shizuka expected that kind of answer so she kept her reaction to merely rolling her eyes. Then, Yami lifted up Shizuka’s weapons. “[So you’re saying a tiny brat like you fights with these?]”

Shizuka bristled and stomped towards Yami. “[I’m not that tiny!]” She pointed a finger up at him once he was in arm’s reach of her. “[I have friends who are around the same height as me!]”

“[But you admit that you’re a brat?]” One of Yami’s brows quirked upward and his even smile gave a sense of amusement.

Shizuka felt heat rush up to her face and she scowled. “[Does that really matter?]” She reached her hand out. “[May I least have my weapons back?]”

“[No can do, brat.]” Yami reached into a pocket in his clothes and pulled out a tiny box that seemed to be made of paper. “[Gotta make sure you’re not gonna be some kind of threat if we do let you have ‘em.]” Yami opened the box and used his teeth to pull out a small stick. The paper box was put away and a metallic box replaced it. Then, Yami flicked the metal box open, a flame appearing under the lid, and touched the free end of the odd stick to the flame.

It only took Shizuka a moment to recognize the scent of tobacco. What kind of swordsman poisons his body that way? As she fought the urge to cover her nose, she asked, “[You can take my word that I have no intention of hurting you. I have no reason to.]”

Yami exhaled a puff of smoke, prompting Shizuka to take a step back. “[I’m gonna need more than that.]” His eyes narrowed the smallest bit as if he were examining her. “[So what exactly are you doing here?]”

Despite the caution, he’s acting strangely casual. He doesn’t seem to have his guard up either, Shizuka noted while crossing her arms. And I’m in no position to be needlessly hostile. She took a deep breath. “[Mister Yami, I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. This building, let alone the land,]” Shizuka answered bluntly as she shifted on her feet. “[As for my reason, I’m in the midst of hunting a vampire and those blades are the weapons I need to kill it.]” And I need to find it soon before it kills any more innocent people.

“[Alright then. Looks like you’re good.]”

Yami tossed Shizuka’s nichirin blades over and she caught them. While that pleased Shizuka, it also left her confused. It felt too easy.

“[Do you really believe me?]”

“[Yeah. You’ve got honest ki.]”

Shizuka paused and blinked. Oh gods, he’s just like Tanjirou and Zenitsu. How do they do it? Without realizing, she sneered.

“[Oi, what’s with that look brat?!]”

..........

“La, c’mon and join us for breakfast, Shizuka!” Charmy called out to Shizuka just as she was about to leave the base.

Shizuka looked to Yami. “[Can you tell her that I don’t need breakfast? I should do my morning training.]”

“[I suggest you take the offer of food, kid.]”

“[Well I don’t feel particularly hungry at the moment and I need some fresh air after putting up with the stench of tobacco.]”

“[You’re funeral, I guess,]” Yami muttered as he raised his brows for a moment.

“[Wait wha—?]”

“She says she doesn’t need breakfast. She’d rather train.”

Silence fell over the table where the Black Bulls sat.

“La?” Charmy’s smile didn’t fade but she tilted her head to the side. “She doesn’t want to eat?”

The Black Bulls hurriedly picked up their plates and scurried away from the table. Out of Charmy’s way.

“[Huh?]” Shizuka looked to the dispersing group. “[What’s going on? What’s wrong?]”

Noelle poked her head over the couch. “You’ve awakened a beast. I suggest you start running now!”

“Fucking [run, kid! Before you’re on the menu!]”

“[WHAT?!]” Shizuka snapped her head in Charmy’s direction just in time to catch the short young woman’s eyes glinting and her smile replaced by a sharp, critical frown.

“You really should take care of yourself and accept a good meal. Eating is good for you. Looks like I’ll have to teach you that.”

Shizuka couldn’t make sense of a thing Charmy said but the expression of each syllable sent a chill up the girl’s spine.

..........

Shizuka blinked a few times at the person seated beside the bed she’d been laying in. She had finally woken up after Charmy beat the worth of nutrition into her and now had a visitor.

“It’s good that you’ve recovered from Charmy’s rampage,” she said while flipping silver locks over her shoulder. “N-not that I worried.” Her fair cheeks puffed up and her pink eyes flicked away.

“[I know you’re not the real Noelle,]” Shizuka stated with a sigh. When the young woman tilted her head in confusion, Shizuka struggled to spit out, “Not-t No-e-ru.”

In a poof of smoke, Grey revealed her true face. “Sorry! Sorry! I just get anxious meeting new people so I thought being someone else might help when meeting you! And now I’m making it worse because you can’t actually understand a thing I’m saying can you!” Grey blubbered, face red and hands fidgeting in her lap. “But I really was worried. Everyone was worried since you weren’t going to eat and then you got beaten by Charmy!”

She’s kind of cute. She’s clearly nervous but that isn’t stopping her from speaking so boldly. Shizuka thought, nodding to herself. I wonder if she and Suzume would hit it off or be awkward together.

Suddenly, Grey leaned forward and grasped Shizuka’s shoulders, looking her directly in the eyes. “I know we just met you but it’s hard not to worry about a child! And since you’re here with the Bulls, we’ll take care of you, okay?”

I like her already.

……….

Shizuka sat beside Finral and Vanessa, watching Asta and Noelle spar each other. Around her neck hung a magic medallion that Yami had bought to translate Shizuka’s speech when she spoke and everyone when she heard them.

“Asta’s a pretty neat guy,” Shizuka commented.

She followed Asta’s movements as he sparred. His swords looked incredibly heavy and yet he was able to lift one nearly his size with a single arm. In the bright daylight, she could see the way Asta’s muscles flexed with each swing of his weapons. His fighting style seemed so wild compared to the flowing techniques of her Breath of Smoke or Tanjirou’s ever elegant Breath of Water. While not sloppy by any means, Asta moved in a raw way, straightforward yet fierce. His personality matched too.

“He’s…” Shizuka couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “A lot like Inosuke…”

“Hm?” Vanessa leaned over to which Shizuka leaned away from to avoid her alcoholic breath. “Who’s this Inosuke? A boy you fancy?”

In an instant, Shizuka’s face was warm.

“Aw, I didn’t think a feisty girl like you could have a crush,” Finral snickered, moving to elbow Shizuka’s arm but her side glare drove him back.

“C’mon, girl, answer me! Who’s Inosuke?” Vanessa pressed, reaching over and poking Shizuka’s cheek.

“Well…” Shizuka crossed her arms and forced a scowl. “Inosuke’s someone I work alongside in the Corps. And a friend of mine.” The warmth of her face grew. “He’s pretty stupid because he was raised in the woods but he’s really strong despite that. He yells a lot and is so pig-headed that it’s ridiculous. But he always watches out for his friends which I believe outweighs all his negative qualities.” By now, Shizuka’s blush was uncomfortably hot.

“Loud and stubborn. Yeah, sounds like Asta!” Finral exclaimed.

“W-when I say pig-headed, I mean it literally as much as I do figuratively,” Shizuka added, crossing her arms.

“… What?”

Shizuka shot up to her feet. “I think I’ve talked enough! I’ll be inside if you need me!”

..........

Had Shizuka seen a man rise from the shadows the first day she arrived in Clover Kingdom, she probably would’ve freaked out. But after seeing magic at work for the past few days, she could only nod and acknowledge it.

“I leave for errands and you find yet another misfit for this place? You really should stop Yami.”

Shizuka’s eyes shot open. “Eugh, why do you sound like Zenitsu?! But older? And not as pathetic?”

The dark-haired man looked at Shizuka and glared. “‘Not as’? Are you implying I still sound somewhat pathetic?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left her mouth, the Black Bulls around the room, save for the newcomer, burst out into laughter. Shizuka, confused by the response, looked around the room.

I didn’t say anything humorous, I just shared my opinion. Shizuka looked over at the man, finally taking notice of his features. He looks like he could be Tomioka-sama’s twin, although not quite identical. “Do you have any idea why they’re laughing?”

The man scowled. “They like to see me mocked.” He inhaled deeply before letting out his tension with a sigh, his unpleasant expression leaving him at the same time. “I suppose it’s appropriate punishment for how I treated them in our first meeting.”

“Ah, well then I suppose I won’t question it.”

The man’s eye twitched, though what he felt in the moment was left to Shizuka’s imagination.

[jenomark]

PART 3: XIAOJUN, THE EATER

➔Pairing: Lucas x Reader (Female) | Xiaojun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Hendery ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING for people with eating disorders or food issues. Food is mentioned a lot in this one, as food is Xiaojun’s kink. If that makes you uncomfortable, I would suggest skipping this part. Oral (female). Angst. Obsessive behavior. Honestly, I realize how uncomfortable this series is to read because it touches on a lot of serious issues involved around sex. Read with caution. ➔Word count: 4,656

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

“Yeah, right there...that’s good...keep going..yeah, right there.”

  You set the couch down on your side with a thud. Lucas set his side down softly and stood back to get a good look at his new purchase. Well, it wasn’t just his purchase, but yours, too. To him, it was the family couch, the very thing that would bind the two of you together into holy matrimony land. 

“It looks perfect in here,” he said. “Really ties the room together.”

  You were on the verge of sniggering- and it was too late for you to retract any trace of amusement -when Lucas looked up and asked what you found so funny. He looked disappointed, which made you feel a twinge of guilt.

 “Nothing. It’s nothing.” you said, letting the humor slide from your face. “It’s just....Lucas, you never care about how the room looks. We’ve always made fun of people like that.”

“I do care.” he said. “Every time you walk into a room, suddenly, everything looks more beautiful.”

“Okay. That was really cheesy.”

Lucas laughed, dissolving any of the guilt you would have let fester. His smile was wide, his eyes twinkling and bright. “You’re right. I don’t know what has gotten into me.”

  He had The Look in his eye. Before he could suggest that you break the couch in with a hot round of sex, you told him you were on your period. His face fell, and for just a moment, you began to feel bad again. The lies were getting easier lately, but there was something about this particular one that felt traitorous. He wasn’t the type of guy to root through the trash to find tampon wrappers as evidence. He was doing his part as the idiot boyfriend, but you, you were going to push things too far.

  Fuck him on the couch, you tried to convince yourself. He’s your maybe fiance.  Maybe.

   An awkward silence passed. Lucas spun around and took a careful seat on the new couch. His big body sunk into the cushions in a way that hugged him better than you could. He groaned happily and looked so smug that he had made a good choice. Good job. Good girlfriend. Good couch. He patted the seat next to him and waited for you to join him.

“I should actually get going.” you said, wishing desperately that you sounded apologetic.

Expecting it, Lucas stood up. “I’ll drive you.”

  His quick movements startled you. He stepped forward, as if it was already decided. You wouldn’t be able to convince him that you didn’t need a ride, which is how you ended up sitting in his passenger seat, your knees knocked together, and your bag clutched tightly to your chest. So, he wasn’t the type to root through the trash, but it seemed like he was looking through you, instead.

 “Where am I driving to today?” he asked. He stuck his key in the ignition. He opened the window and inhaled the air, like it was the first time he was breathing. “I’m free. You could ditch your friends and drive around with me, like we used to.”

  You smiled to yourself when all the memories resurfaced. Whenever you and Lucas got into arguments, you didn’t let it draw on for hours. He suggested you take a car ride together. He would drive, and you would sit in silence until he made you laugh like clockwork. You always wound up somewhere secluded, you sitting on the hood of his car and him apologizing for whatever he did. On the rare occasion, you were the one apologizing, offering him your body on whatever surface was publicly available. 

“But we’re not arguing.” you said. “Why else would we need to take a ride?”

  Lucas looked over at you. You could see all of the questions in his eyes, the way he turned his head so he wouldn’t have to ask them. “Right. I guess there is no need, then.”

  He took your hand and held it between you and him. You thought of the couch being wedged between you, and now the console. If Lucas was able to read minds, he would read all of the things you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize for. About the job. About the ring. About all the walls you were building around yourself to keep him out.

  Lucas dropped you off in front of a bakery. You said you were meeting an old friend, which was true, but it was the only truth. 

   You walked a few blocks away from where Lucas dropped you off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You kept looking over your shoulder, peering into windows of passing cars to make sure Lucas wasn’t in one of them. You probably looked as crazy as you felt.

  As you arrived at your destination, you got a text message from Lucas. You looked around one more time before diving into your phone.

Lucas: Text me before you come home. I’d like to clean up the place before you get in. Love you so much.

You: Love you.

  You stowed your phone back into your bag and looked up at the restaurant you had stopped in front of. The sign hanging from an iron hook was hard to read, but you had been coming there for a long time, and you didn’t need a sign to know you were at the right place. The door swung open, a little tinkling bell alerting everyone in the near vicinity that a customer had left. The person held the door open for you, so you did a little jog to get inside.

  You didn’t normally like buffets, and you definitely didn’t like little hipster buffets nestled between chic coffee houses and insurance agencies. On the outside, it looked a bit like a cafe; it was so nondescript. On the inside, it was anything but. Besides the unsettling minimalism on the walls, everything else was chaotic. The first room, the dining room, was full of mismatched chairs: bean bags, beach chairs, stools of various sizes, and the random childs tricycle seat. Each table looked like it had been thrifted from different cafes and upscale restaurants. If you were a tourist looking for a place to eat and you had walked in, you would surely walk right back out. 

“Is he here?” you asked the hostess waiting at the front. She stood at a podium made of discarded cutlery.

“Punctual as always,” she said. “Talking to the servers, no doubt scaring away the customers. You know how he is.”

 You thanked her and glided through the dining room, avoiding the eyes of the people eating. It was rude to stare as someone ate, and if he saw you staring, it would turn him off. He was all about manners of every kind. 

 You found him at the serving station, standing between each table talking to the man who owned the place. His back was turned to you, his small frame handsome, even from behind. You gandered at the food on display. There were so many options gathered in one place; a taste of the city, if the city ate with childrens cutlery shaped like zoo animals.

 You stood and waited for him to stop speaking. You looked down at your heels, the patent leather shiny and new. The dress you wore was skin tight and left very little to the imagination. Tan, so as not to hurt his sensitive eyes. You thought you looked like a cheap whore trying to look expensive, but it was always less about the clothes, and more about being able to see every curve of your body. With him, unlike with Lucas, nothing was hidden from sight.

  You were surprised Lucas hadn’t asked who you were dressing up for, but he was so oblivious to fashion, that he probably assumed you and your friends were trying to out-pretty eachother. As long as you didn’t leave the house wearing designer clothes, your boyfriend would hardly notice a thing. Even if he did, you knew he’d never say anything about it.

 As if feeling you standing near him, he stopped speaking and turned toward you. He searched your eyes, his lips wondering whether or not they should pull up into a smile.

“You’re late.” he mouthed.

You smiled apologetically, meaning it. 

  Xiaojun. If happiness was a face, it belonged to him. He was always smiling, always making friends wherever he went. Everyone loved him, and it was a genuine love. You started to believe that he collected people like one would collect hats, and that maybe you were one of those lucky people. He told you once that he had to smile and talk to everybody, or they would talk about him first.

 Xiaojun excused himself and made his way across the room. You gave him your cheek, bending down a little because he was shorter than you, and he kissed it. Xiaojun didn’t love public displays of affection. He took your hand and started introducing you to the new foods the restaurant was bringing into their daily mix. For Xiaojun, it would be the highlight of his day.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

  You nodded excitedly, but your insides felt like knotting up. You had purposely not eaten for this moment, knowing what was required of you. Yet, your appetite was anything but big. 

“Good,” he said. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable.  I’ll whip you up a plate, love.”

  You went and found a table surrounded by child-sized chairs someone would find in a doctors office. Xiaojun would find it funny to see your larger, adult body in a chair too small for you. You sat, checked your teeth in a mirror and pulled out your phone to check your messages. When you were with other clients, you would never dare  check your phone, but Hendery’s texts were coming in so frequently that you didn’t have a choice.

Hendery: I miss you.

Hendery: I’m bored.

Hendery: Can we fuck later?

Hendery: I saw this program earlier and it reminded me of you.

Hendery: So, I was thinking.....

  You put your phone away as Xiaojun turned the corner. He had three plates of food: one plate in each hand, and another balancing on his forearm. Like a pro, he set them down on your side of the table without spilling anything. 

“Good choice of seats.” he said, sitting down.

  There wasn’t any food in front of him. You looked down at the food in front of you and felt the knots in your stomach tightening. Xiaojun didn’t let any of the food touch, but the plates were still full of steak, fish, potatoes and rice. You took a napkin off the table and folded it over your lap.

“You look pretty today.” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, careful to keep your manners up to par.

  You picked up your plastic shark fork and started eating. Rice first, veggies next. You ate slowly, chewing thoughtfully, looking up at Xiaojun after swallowing each bite. His head was leaning on his hand, and he had a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, smiling. “Is it me? Have I done something?”

“No!” you were quick to say. You took a sip of water to wash the food down. “I have some things going on in my personal life.”

“Ah, it’s like that.”

“Yeah,” you said. “But this food is really good, and I can’t imagine sharing my company with anyone else in the world.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” 

  You shoveled more rice into your mouth, closing your mouth to mind your manners. You didn’t speak until it was all chewed and swallowed. “ I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Xiaojun, you know you’re my favorite.”

  He didn’t believe it and neither did you, but it was the fantasy that kept you going. Xiaojun leaned back in his chair and watched you devour two full plates. As you got to your third, you could see the lust in his eyes. You turned to the side so he could see how bloated your belly was.

“Still hungry?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes, very.” you said. “I’m famished.”

  You finished the third plate of food. Xiaojun went up to get you a plate of dessert, which meant that you didn’t have to pretend much anymore. You felt like vomiting from all the consumption. You sat back in your chair as much as you could and kicked your legs out until you were almost laying horizontal. 

 Eating. It was Xiaojun’s thing. He never ate himself, and in the beginning, you wondered if food was an issue for him. He opened up on the second date, eating a morsel for himself before feeding you the rest of what he had ordered. For Xiaojun, it was more about the care. If he fed you, he cared about you. He loved nothing more than to get you food (always paying for it, of course) and watch you pig out. Seeing you so stuffed turned him on, and if your belly was a little swollen, he would get an instant hard-on.

 You never knew about certain kinks until you were welcomed into the sex industry. Someone like Xiaojun might have scared you off if you were still green, but meeting him as an experienced worker helped the both of you. Xiaojun became a client, as well as a friend. And your relationship was even better, because it was him who had introduced you to people like Ten. Deep down, you also liked to care for others. 

  Xiaojun came back with a chocolate lava cake made special by the kitchen. He set it down in front of you like he had set down a solid bar of gold. You looked at the cake like he might as well had. Xiaojun paid very well, so it was easy to keep acting.

“I didn’t think you were that hungry,” he said. “One is enough. I don’t want you bursting at the seams, love.”

  He sat down in his seat. He clapped his hands excitedly and picked up a utensil with a dolphin on the end. He would be feeding you for the grand finale. Xiaojun picked up a chunk and watched the chocolate dribble out onto the plate. In other scenarios, you would have wiped your finger in the pooling chocolate and brought it straight to your lips, but he wouldn’t have liked that. You opened your mouth and kept your hands by your side. Xiaojun stuck the utensil in your mouth. You chewed the piece, the chocolate too rich for you to truly enjoy.

  When he saw that you had a chocolate morsel hanging from the corner of your lip, Xiaojun got out of his chair and kissed you clean. It was the only instance where public displays of affection and good manners were completely forgotten. 

  You felt so full of food as you left the restaurant. You wobbled a little in your heels as you walked. Xiaojun had his hand on your back, and he was checking on you to make sure you were okay. He kept looking at the bloat in your stomach, which meant that he was ready for sex. A car couldn’t come fast enough for him.

“I know I ask too much of you,” he said. “But we should do this more often. I really like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too.”

  You leaned down to kiss him. No tongue, just a peck. When you pulled away, Xiaojun had hearts in his eyes. You’ve always wanted to ask him why he didn’t just get a girlfriend who he could feed and fuck. He was a very attractive man, with a heart of gold. He didn’t have to be alone. You never got around to asking him because you began to understand why someone would live like that. What you and him did was an escape, and that escape was untouchable. Inviting anyone else in would change everything, and change is what you hated most.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling bashful.

  You looked at your feet before looking down the street for the car. It should have been there by now. You inspected the area. People were going in and out of cars, some rushing to get inside buildings and out of the heat of the sun. No one was stopping to watch life, no one caring about anything other than their own busy lives. You kept searching and searching for some sign that life could slow down, and that’s when you saw him: Hendery.

 “What the fuck.” you whispered.

  Hendery was standing across the street. He was watching you with Xiaojun. He looked like his heart was being torn in two in real time, the agony on his face displayed for all of the pedestrians.. Before you could make a move, he was leaving the area.

You turned to Xiaojun. “Stay right here. I’ll be back. Please don’t leave without me.”

“Is everything okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Yeah,” you said, walking. “Everything is just great.”

  You didn’t know why leaving Xiaojun and chasing down Hendery seemed like the best idea. He looked so upset, which really shouldn’t have been your problem. Outside of the bedroom, Hendery was not your responsibility.  But you had told him your whole life story, and you didn’t know how capable he was of tracking down a vet assistant named Lucas, and telling him all about you like he was some scorned lover.

“Hendery!” you called.

  You could see him up ahead. You crossed the street. Once you hit the sidewalk, you started running as much as your heels allowed. Your feet hurt like hell, but you had to reach him before he did anything hasty.

“Will you just stop,” you yelled, coming up behind him. He was ignoring you. “You’re not making this easy for me, Hendery.”

 Hendery stopped so suddenly that you almost collided with him. You turned to see if Xiaojun was watching, but thankfully, he wasn’t.

“Do you love him?” Hendery asked, spitting out the word love like it was dirty. 

“What?” you asked. “Are you playing the part of the jealous lover now? I’m at work, Hendery. You know what I do for a living. You’ve hired me before, remember? ”

“You’re right,” Hendery said. “I’m sorry”

  He started walking again. You followed behind, turning the corner with him. You didn’t have time to react before he was kissing you and pushing you up against the wall of a bank. His hands were all over your body. You pushed them out from going underneath your dress. You covered the bloat of your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “When I see you, I just…”

“It’s fine.” you said, trying to regain the upper hand.

  A year or two ago there was a client who had fallen so deeply in love with you that he kept following you everywhere. He would show up when you were out with Lucas, which really made things complicated. You didn’t want to get the police involved, but Lucas insisted that no weirdo could keep harassing his girlfriend. Lucas never found out why the client did what he did, or that you had led him on for the sake of money.

“I think I should stop seeing you,” Hendery said. “You’re all I think about and it’s not healthy.”

  Since taking his virginity, you saw Hendery multiple times. You never went back to your real home, but instead found hotels to fuck in. His sexual prowess had improved through practice. He was easily making you come twice a night when you were with him. It wasn’t the sex that had done it for him, though. You had started to relax your friendship with him, choosing to keep things business-only. As you did that, he started trying to get you to come a little closer again. The more you resisted, the more obsessed Hendery became. 

“Sleep on the decision,” you said. “If you still feel the same way I-”

  You didn’t know what else to say. There was part of you that didn’t want to lose the extra income that Hendery gave you. He was also easier to deal with when his emotions weren’t involved, and you really saw a future as friends with him.

“I don’t think I should talk to you again.” he said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’ll never stop falling for you, and I should have known that everything you said was a lie.”

 You thought about defending yourself, but Xiaojun had turned the corner and his eyes were going from you, to Hendery.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.” Hendery said. “Take this.” He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a few bills. He stuck them in the collar of your dress, which made you feel lower than you had felt in awhile.

  You were in Xiaojuns bed, and he was in between your legs eating you out. He was good at it, but your mind was too far away and you couldn’t appreciate how tender he was being. You reached down to touch his hair as he sucked on your clit. You blinked away your thoughts and moaned on command. Oral sex was all you and Xiaojun ever did together, so he was bound to realize something was awry.

“Is it the boy?” Xiaojun asked, coming up for air. He kissed your inner thigh. “The one in front of the bank? The one that treated you rudely?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m sorry I’m not responsive. If you want your money back, I’ll understand.”

  Xiaojun set his chin on your lower tummy. Your legs were over his shoulder, and your body was propped up by a pillow so you could see everything he was doing. He said, “Watching you stuff yourself was more than enough for me, love.”

  You were thankful when Xiaojun got up and handed you your panties. You slid them on and sat on his bed, your dress still sitting like a tight ring around your waist. No client had ever gotten to you so much that they affected another. 

“He caught feelings?” Xiaojun asked. He looked down at his cock. He was still hard. “Not hard to do with you.”

“Something like that.” you said, feeling sorry for Hendery. For Xiaojun. For Lucas. For yourself.

“Don’t take it personally,” Xiaojun said. “He just likes the idea of you. You probably fucked him better than any of his girlfriends ever did.”

“He was a virgin.”

Xiaojun sighed. “That explains it. He’ll move on. You’ll see.”

  But will I move on? You thought. You didn’t have feelings for Hendery, but in the shortest amount of time, he was so ingrained in your life that it was hard to let him go. Normally, when clients moved on, you counted your lucky stars. This time, you didn’t know which part to mourn first. 

“He gave me money for talking to me, like I’m some whore,” you said. “I think that’s what hurts the most.” 

“People do crazy things when they’re hurt.” Xiaojun said. 

  You laid back on Xiaojuns bed. He laid back with you, his face angled towards yours. His breath was sweet. You thought about kissing him then and there, but he didn’t feel like a paying client, and you didn’t want to make the moment any more weird than it was.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat me out some more?” you asked. “Or I can fuck your face? You always like it when I fuck your face.”

Xiaojun laughed. “That, I do.”

  Before going back to Lucas, you stopped at your apartment and changed clothes. You had finally found Ten’s blanket hidden in the hordes of laundry you still had to do. After putting on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you walked around the apartment, thinking about how you should make it more inhabitable and finally move in, once and for all. You could cut one place out and make room in your crazy life for something else. 

  There wasn’t much distance between your faux apartment and Lucas’. You could walk there, which is exactly what you decided to do. Since it wasn’t that far, there was no reason you couldn’t make the lie more believable. Besides, you were getting tired of going to so many places at once.

You pulled out your phone and pulled up Lucas’ name. You took a deep breath before you texted him.

You: on my way home..it’s a beautiful night for a walk.

Lucas: You’re walking? I’ll come get you. Let me know where you are.

You: NO....clean like you wanted..knowing you, the place is a mess ; ) 

Lucas: Okay, but be careful. There are a lot of crazy people out there. A lot of freaks.

  You walked the way home thinking about all your little freaks. Each one fit into your life in a box, stored away in your messy closet of a mind. Eventually, you figured they would either sort themselves out, or you’d be around long enough to watch every box tumble down to the floor, their contents spilling out for the world to see.

 You hadn’t seen Ten since the last time. He mentioned how he had gotten a partner, said he would call you when they both wanted you around for a little fun.

 Hendery texted you one last “I’m sorry.” after you left Xiaojun for the night. You stared at the screen for far too long, trying to think of something to say. Instead, you just deleted the message and kept it moving.

  Xiaojun was so sweet after you left. He gave you the biggest hug and told you everything would work out if you let it. It all had to start with you. You wanted to believe it.

 You made it to Lucas’ apartment in ten minutes, out of shape and out of breath. You stood on the steps, just listening to the life of the city, before going inside. You trudged up the steps to the sound of music coming from inside of the apartment. You opened the door and were met with candles and a record player, and Lucas on one knee.

“I know what this looks like,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

“It looks like a proposal.” you said, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Lucas smiled. “Would you want to marry me?”

  You didn’t answer because you didn’t know what to say. Lucas looked down at the little box he held in his hands. He got off his knees and stood up, his body casting shadows on the walls.

“I’ll take that as a no.” he said.

“We’re too young,” you said. “But I do love you, Lucas.”

  You expected him to put the box away and break up with you. After all, what girlfriend rejects a proposal before it even happens. But Lucas just smiled and shook his head, as if your reaction was totally expected. He held the box out to you and opened it. Instead of a ring, inside was a silver key.

“I want you to move in with me,” he said.” And then, when you feel like we’re old enough, I’d like to make you an honest woman.”

Honest woman? How apt, you thought. 

  You looked down at the key. There were so many questions swimming in your mind: A key? Where is the ring I saw? What the fuck is going on? But they were all swept away with the tide when you nodded, a single agreement sealing everything. Lucas came and lifted you off your feet.

“Now,” he said. “Let's make passionate love on our new couch. I don’t care if you’re on your period.”

[sainadazai]

When your crush is angry all the time

Ch.6

"A red haired bitch that glows"

2nd person pov

°•○●○•°•○●○•°•○●○•°

You weren't sure how things could even possibly move so quick, but as fire burned and terrifying creatures tormented citizens, all You could do was stand. Nomus, is what endeavour called them. Some gross being that seemed to have multiple quirks, you'd never seen anything like them. 

Even with all of the times you'd been beaten and interrogated and harassed by villains, nothing like this ever happened. It could have been the fact that you spent most of your young life hiding away in a castel in the middle of nowhere, but seeing all this destruction froze you in place. 

"Kid, help get the citizens out of here! Do not engage in combat, understand? Hey! L/n!"

You broke the terrified stare that was burning into the ruined city streets to meet eyes with your boss. He seemed so calm, even though everything was going wrong. The world was quite literally burning. Those monsters were hurting people. There were screams of horror, and still his calm demeanor was all you could focus on. How was he so calm? 

"Now!"

His yell broke You from your trance and you scrambled around, eyes searching for someone, anyone to get the hell out of here. However there wasn't just one, there were hundreds. Some under building scraps, trapped behind fire burning the streets. Too many people, too much noise, it was never this loud back home. Why could you just focus?! 

One of those boys from earlier today let our scream. You only recognized it because it was the same as how he'd screamed at bakugou earlier. You whipped your head around looking for his sound, body, anything. Spinning in circles until you caught that little red shirt cowering beneath one of those things. 

"Hold on, i'm coming!" You didn't know if he could hear you, the statement was more a confirmation to yourself. You wouldn't stand there cowering. You didnt wanna be the helpless princess waiting to be saved. You were going to save others, it was like an instinct, like you had to. 

Being unsure of your abilities with vines and plants, you opted to use a power long ago mastered. Twirling your pointer finger in a circle to slowly collect wind into a tiny ciclone and build it up bigger and bigger. This action disrupted the wind in the area, some of the bystanders' hair began flowing with the force of it, getting shivers from the chill. 

Then with all the focus you could muster you let your eyes bored right into the head of that nomu aiming with your mind and following the action with your finger. Then, with a snap, the ciclone flew off towards it, lifting it into the air and growing larger the more he struggled. 

You felt the pressure of all that wind, and its body on your back. Hundreds of pounds of pressure on your spine, but adrenaline forced you forward. Sprinting to the boy in the red shirt, crouching down under all that weight to wipe away his tears. You completely ignored how underdressed you were and brought his small form into a tight embrace, whispering sweet nothings to which you didn't know you could say. 

It all felt so wrong, so opposite to what you wanted, but you couldn't help it. Grazing the lasso on your thigh an idea sprouted in your mind as to how you could get this crushing weight off of your back. You let the boy down telling him to stay behind you. 

Don't engage in combat. 

Do not engage. 

Get them out of here. 

Ignoring your mentors words, you snatched the lasso off of your thigh, doing as you were taught and lighting it ablaze, if your mother was thinking straight, she'd have it made of mineral wool- fire retardant and easily manipulated. The flames would not be actually catching on anything but the air, therefore saving her from an uncontrollably fire. 

As it lit up your hair not only changed, but shined a bright red. It was so brilliant that it lit up the area around you, the boy behind you shocked and the people in the vicinity scared. 

However, you had a hero suit on. That meant to them, that you were trustworthy. 

You swing the lasso all but twice above your head before releasing the ciclone, and the pressure on your back, and whipping it towards the monster. 

It had activated some sort of electricity quirk once free from the wind and as the lasso made contact, rather than burning and bringing the nomu to the ground, it sent a high-powered electrical current through your already spent body. 

You should have stopped there, tossed the kid out of the way and called for help. Yet, for some reason you couldn't. Being shocked only numbed the pain on your spine more, and upped your adrenaline. Bad news for mr.nomu, huh? 

"Whew, that's one way to boost your energy huh, kid?"

 You smirked back at the worried boy behind you, hoping a joke would lighting the mood now. Similar to how you would joke in class yo avoid any real emotions or connections. 

Only, now, it held the benefit of an adorable smirk appearing on his face and a little giggle exciting his mouth. 

"Watch this!" 

Despite being electrocuted your lasso was still intact, so you took to attacking it around the monster's leg and pulling back towards you. Once it was too close for your liking, you shot a roundhouse kick into the empty space in front of you. It seemed like a fruitless action, until the surrounding citizens noticed how the wind around them mirrored your actions with equal force. 

The nomu went flying out of the city, likely landing somewhere around hosu (😏Yes, hosu) and you released the pressure on your leg. 

As soon as you took the time to inhale, your back gave out, and you fell to the ground. 

However you hadn't given up, using the little burst you could make with your fingers, you shot several people away from the mess with winds. Then, after what you counted to be person number 34, you gave out and the world went black. 

The heroes in the area who were not distracted by nomus had been paying close attention to your actions, surprised they haven't seen you in the sports festival, or anywhere for that matter. 

Mr. Woods was disappointed at the initiative you took, knowing how injured you must be from being out of practice with most parts of your quirk. However when endeavour informed the other pros of some sort of incident in hosu, he was forced to leave you there. Limp body cold against the concrete. 

When doctors and healers arrived, you were one of the first in an ambulance and on the road to the hospital, and the news reports of your body being wheeled off were matched with that of your battle with the nomu. Streaming across all platforms and displaying on one particular tv screen, in the hotel room of one fire quirked boy. 

A boy who truly was noticing he had no idea what you were capable of. A boy who was angry you'd been holding it back in class. One who had been thinking of the way you spoke of fire to that little boy all day, and above all a boy who was entranced by the glow of your hair when it turned red. 

Bakugou wasn't sure how to process these overwhelming feelings towards you, the stalker girl who said dumb shit about his eyes. Still, after seeing that video, the feeling your own eyes held, staring up at that devilish creature. He could no longer say he didn't know what you meant by being obsessed with the look in his eyes. He was now too. 

A six year old girl struggled against her restraints tirelessly. She has a power that she doesn't know how to use, and yet these men want to take it from her. There is one door exit, it's blocked by tall men in black suits. The whole room echoes with screams from children. It crashes against the walls and her little ears, and she cant get it to stop. 

Why was this happening to her? Why couldn't she do anything to stop it? 

"Please, just let my brother go! Please I'll do anything. Im sorry. Im sorry. Plea-"

Her words are stopped by a suffocating hand, larger than her whole face, it reeks of bleach. Her little eyes can only release so many tears before they are running over the hands knuckles, wetting his skin with her despair. The man doesn't care, though. The men never seem to care. 

Her brother, only two years old, cries in a stranger's arms. The stranger showed her how he could completely disassemble any object, or put it back together. What a horrible powerful quirk. With something like that, she really couldn't tell why he needed hers too. Still, he did. 

So the tiny boy whined in his firm hold, terrified, but not sure why. They both just wanted their Mommy. Mommy always comes to save them, she and her friends will take them home. To the castle, with the comfy beds, the pillowy blankets that their small bodies float on like clouds. 

Not this rough metal wall, with arms chained, and bruises forming from their so-called interrogation. Why didn't they understand? 

She doesn't know how to give her quirk away. She is only six, after all. 

Mommy told her that men are greedy. Men like these have all they want and still need more. They take things, without asking. They took her and her brother without asking, so where was Mommy? To tell these men that you aren't supposed to take things, or hit people. 

Where are their mommies? Did no one tell them hitting people is bad? Especially smaller people. Is that why the men are bad? Because they didn't have a Mommy or daddy to tell them how to be good? The little girl is lost in a pit of sympathy. Sympathy that she does not owe these horrible men, yet she can't help it. 

"I don't give a shit princess, your brother can go home when you give us the quirk."

"Mommy never told me how! I'm sorry míster that you don't have a mo-mommy!" She sobre through the rough palm over her mouth. At the response he removed his grip, though. Opting to allow the girl her voice. 

"P-please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry no one told you not to be mean. It's okay though! My Mommy will come, she'll tell you, okay! Please j-just-" though her words held great meaning to those men in suits-bad men- she couldn't finish. Her sobs were too loud and violent. Her little arms shook, because though she was such a sweet little girl,she was terrified. 

Her cheeks hurt from screaming and tensing to release tears.  Her arms hurt from being suspended at her sides. Her little legs had lost all feeling, gone numb under the pressure of standing for so long. She just wanted to go home, to keep her brother safe. 

Even being only six, she felt so stupid for being so helpless. It was her job to protect their family quirk, but she wanted to give it up. More so, even though she wanted to give it away, she didn't even know how. 

A small, weak girl, helpless really. She never wanted to be helpless like that again. 

"Now!" His hand collided with her cheek. Hard, swinging, jaw snapping pressure. It rang through her ears, like her baby brothers sobs, til she shot up from her bed. 

-

-

-

Sweat covered by/ns face as she jolted awake in her bed. Around her were some unrecognizable faces, or that's what she thought at first. Except, in truth, they were simply blurred in her eyes. 

As she was taught when she was little, she began recounting things to herself that might make her come back to reality. Might help ease the fear of her dream. 

- I am not 6 years old 

-my brother is at home in the castle 

-im not in a warehouse 

-those men are in prison 

-i am alive 

As she was repeating each of those truths in her head, her eyesight began to come back so that she could recognize the faces of those around her. Three boys: todoroki, midoriya, and iida. 

Midoriya was furthest from her, as she now noticed she was on a bed. Then iida, and closest was todoroki. The familiarity of his stone face gave y/n great comfort. However, he looked troubled.

The three boys in the hospital room with her were truthfully at a loss. This girl who had been at their school for one week, had proved more honest and heroic than them. After being scolded by the chief of police, they were each confronting their own feelings about the events.

However, each came to the conclusion that y/n was the only participating hero-in-training that followed the rules and fought earnestly. Little did they know, she had been breaking rules too, except her wouldn't be hid so easily. 

What were the police meant to do, a teenage girl-princess no less- save countless lives, that heroes were neglecting, and its broadcast all over japan. Unlike in the boys' case, where the media didn't even have to know, everyone had already seen her heroism, but they had no idea where she came from. 

Some viewers pointed out her position as a princess, but no one expected to see her in a hero outfit anytime soon. They knew what happened was illegal, but what backlash would they face for arresting her. Could they even arrest her? 

Still, all y/n knew was that she was scared, and she needed to hide it as deep within her as it could reach. No one likes a cry baby, anyway. 

"Oh..uh, hey guys?"

The first to look up was the green haired, face widening in surprise and worry. 

"Y/n! Y-you're up!? Wait, don't sit up yet..um they said your bac-"

"You left damage on all your thoracic vertebrae. You could have killed yourself with that amount of pressure!" 

Todoroki interrupted. Face still void of emotion, but his voice held anger. 

Making sure to agnowledged how touched she was that he cared at all, y/n then quickly brushed it off. In the mood for jokes, not fights. She just finished fighting, why would she wanna argue some more about it? 

"Aww~todoroki, were you worried about me?"

"Yes. It was stupid of you to use your quirk like that, out of practice and such." 

"Um-"

"There's no um. he is right y/n, i didn't know your quirk could do that, but you obviously haven't been keeping it in practice during class, that was really risky..." midoriya added on in a ramble. 

Feeling a bit cornered she settled for sighing and staring up at the ceiling. 

"Can I walk?"

"No" 

"Why not?"

"Did you not here the whole vertebrae thing, i-"

"No, I did, but I don't feel any pain...is it not healed?"

"I'm not really sure, we can ask.."

So slowly but surely, the boys helped her sit up, and yes, she did feel an immense pain shoot through her. Additionally, she was compensated with shoto conspiracizing about his negativo afecta on peoples hands, getting to know these classmates better. They even let her in on why they were in the hospital to begin with. 

She would have to admit, though these boys being around made her happy, she was still thinking about bakugou. Was he in the area during the fight? Is he okay? Why do I give a shit about that mean old fact face anyway? Oh, right. His eyes. 

The rest of her time was spent ignoring the extreme trauma these events reminded her of, and fantasizing about those angry eyes. 

Bakugou pov 😡

°•○●○•°•○●○•°•○●○•°

There the bitch was, right on my hotel tv screen, fighting the same fight on replay. Those media bastards hasn't stopped talking about her all day. How even when she was barely alive on the ground, she kept saving people. 

I know it wasn't about me, hell, I wasn't even there, but it feels like a taunt. Some karma cause I called her an entitled princess, or her purposefully saying "Look what I can do." 

Well I fucking am. Looked like some sort of wind quirk, but I saw her use fire with those kids, and in class she makes that plant shit. So what the hell is she? She thinks having multiple quirks makes her better than me? Good enough she doesn't have to use them all just to beat me? Thats bullshit. 

I'm just so fucking angry at her for it, but I have to be. Or else, the next time they show her shitty face on that shitty screen, looking

...shitty, i'll start to worry. 

That maybe she has only been here for a week, but she is already gone. That the whole time at school she spent avoiding me, to make me happy. Worrying I'll never hear her say what she looks at in my eyes. 

In her eyes, that night, I saw pure rage. It almost looked as if she couldn't control it. An impending anger that loomed over her, and controlled her; made her strong. Not stronger than me, but strong. 

Still, I can't go "falling for'' every girl that I see with strength. If a dunce 's face hadn't told me that feeling I had at the festival was a crush, I could have spared myself a week worth of it, I don't even know what. 

Stupid dunce face. 

Now, though, that shitty princess, even if she is shitty. Well, she has at least my respect. 

[surveille]

@skystar-secret-santa gift for @overlordraax.  Sorry it’s so late! I meant to do a proper fairytale but ended up not having time to do any of the stuff I wanted, so um. I hope it’s okay.

There were worse things to be than a dragon. One of those things was a cold constructed Seeker so Starscream didn't hold a grudge.

A few years after being magicked from one into the other he had mastered his new body, moved into a crumbling old fortress far from the city, and all but forgotten about hunting down the tiny slagger who'd changed him in the first place. It wasn't the life he'd dreamed for himself, but there was something to be said for the ability to terrorize the countryside just by going out for a flight.

Truth be told, the dragon shape was almost more comfortable than the one he'd come online in. He liked the power of it, the broad sweep of its wings, the knowledge that he was now three times the size of the self-important hacks who used to look down their nasal ridges at him. He liked the smart figure he cut in crimson and black and the way the plating stayed glossy without polish.

He was a bit disappointed, though, at being so fine and having no one around to admire and pay attention to him. So it wasn't an entirely bad shock when he came loafing out of the sleeping chamber one evening to find a shuttle wielding a sword in his entrance hall.  

-

There were probably worse things to be than a dragon slayer. Faced with an actual dragon, pre-slaying, Jetfire couldn't have named a single one but there were probably a few.

The beast was as large as he was, possibly even larger. Its elongated body gave it an advantage in height, its slender neck arched in a threat display as it stared down at him with slitted, crimson optics. Smoke wafted from between its bared fangs.    

Jetfire clutched his borrowed sword. Much as he would have liked to back slowly out the way he came, he had to remember why he was here. It wouldn't do him any good to solve the problem of crystal blight in the area if the farmers were all killed by a dragon. His armor was stronger than theirs, he had to do this for them.

He took a deep invent and eased forward with painstaking slowness.

“I really don't want to kill you,” he murmured, voice pitched as low and soothing as he could make it. “But that poor minibot didn't deserve to be eaten.”

The dragon cocked its head. “Is this about the minibot I grabbed? Primus, you can have it back if it's that important to you! It was the wrong one anyway.”

-

Starscream waited a full minute for the shuttle to either say something or close his mouth. It was a pleasant-looking mouth but he wanted to get this matter of killing cleared up as quickly as possible. When nothing happened he retreated cautiously into the fortress' main hall.

“I'm just going to get your minibot out. Make yourself comfortable. Relax. Put down the sword. I'll be right back.”

“Wait!” the shuttle called. “You mean he's still alive?”

“I wouldn't be keeping him in my house if he wasn't.”

“But you- You're not a real dragon. Are you?”

Starscream considered the unintentional trick question. By most scientific values of 'dragon' he did in fact classify as one. Only two significant differences set him apart.

“I am an intelligent being. That's all you need to know.”

-

The minibot was tiny and orange, stuttering in terror, and Jetfire couldn't help but wonder who the dragon had mistaken him for and what a mech like that could possibly have done to warrant the kidnapping.

With the little mech safe in his cockpit and his thrusters warming for lift off, he watched furtively out of the corner of his optics as the dragon sauntered out of the decaying building into the sun. The sleek curves of its plating almost glowed under the light.

Now that he no was no longer afraid of being boiled alive in his armor, Jetfire could appreciate how remarkable it was. A wonder unknown to modern science, if it truly was a dragon. It had always been considered hard fact by the scientific community that dragons were incapable of intelligence or speech, yet here was one with both! Not just a mimic, either. But potentially a beastformer.

Could he ever forgive himself for not at least trying to find out the truth?

“I'm sorry if this is too forward, and feel free to refuse. But I wonder if you would let me study you?”

The dragon stared. Its tail twitched gently at the tip.

Jetfire soldiered on. “Nothing invasive and you could back out at any time. You see, I'm a scientist with the Iacon Academy--”

“You? A scientist?”

That tone of astonishment was nothing new but it stung every time. Even coming from a wilderness-dwelling mech-creature who couldn't possibly know how hard Jetfire fought to be allowed to call himself that, it still stung.  

“Yes,” he said, a bit more crisply. “Me. A shuttle scientist, and I promise I'm very good at my job. My work has been thoroughly vetted--”

“Oh, I'm sure you're wonderful,” the dragon cut him off again. It was staring all the more intently, emotion flickering behind its optics like a banked flame. “You must be to have made it so far in Iacon. The Functionist rust-lickers.”

-

The shuttle was silent. He looked confused, almost stricken by the compliment.

“Well,” said Starscream, “in that case, yes. You can study me as much as you want. If you can get the equipment out here you can even take scans and samples. Is it still true that no one's studied a live dragon, only carcasses?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“Excellent, you'll be the first. Make sure to note that down when you write the paper. I'll answer any questions you--”

“Are you a real dragon?”

Starscream exhaled a thin plume of smoke, narrowing his optics. The shuttle looked earnestly back, all scientific curiosity. Fine. If that was what he wanted to know, far be it from Starscream to deprive him of the most absurd and unscientific tale ever told to a sparkling at naptime.

“Not exactly. I was onlined in a Seeker frame. A minibot turned me into this dragon a few years ago because I was rude to him or some slag. Don't ask how he did it, all I know is one minute I was yelling at him and the next I was transforming and he was spouting off about my 'true love' and kisses curing all. Or something. I wasn't listening. Then he disappeared and I haven't seen him since.”

The shuttle's expression of deep interest hadn't faltered through the recital, which was flattering. “Interesting,” he said, which was slightly less so because Starscream knew what that meant.

“It doesn't matter,” Starscream assured him, before he could ask about mental health histories. “It's the body you'll be looking at and as far as I can tell it's pure dragon.”

“All right. Well, my name is Jetfire. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you?”

“Starscream. I'll be here.”

Hidden somewhere in the vicinity at least, in case he changed his mind and decided dragon slaying had been the way to go after all.

To his great surprise, the shuttle offered him a hand. He smiled as he did it, as if realizing how strange it was to clasp hands on a deal with a dragon, but he didn't withdraw, even when Starscream took it carefully in one paw. He had a nice smile. Friendly. No one had ever smiled at Starscream like that before.

-

The dragon watched with that strange intensity as Jetfire lifted off and waggled his wings in farewell before turning toward the minibot's home village. Explaining this to the mechs there might be difficult but he was satisfied that he'd done the right thing. Everyone was safe, no one had to die.

His colleagues could continue studying the blight. Jetfire had something else on his mind.

Whatever the truth of his origins, Starscream was a fascinating being and Jetfire couldn't wait to start mapping him out. Maybe he would feel comfortable enough to talk more while they worked together.

Giddy with the joy of escaping a dragon slaying with his life and a new project, he pushed his thrusters a little harder. There was nothing better than being a scientist.

[minimus-ambus]

glittering blue

Commission for @seaquestions! Always love writin some soundmags UwU

In the Golden Age, Iacon glittered. It sparkled as it reflected the stars up above and shone blindingly bright under the full force of the sun, flawless in its facets like a diamond. 

This is how Magnus remembered it – Soundwave only remembered how it hurt his optics. 

But neither of their memories mattered anymore, did they? Iacon splintered like a gem cut by fumbling, foolhardy hands, and they still felt the slivers of glass deep in their frames. And even then, did they really want to recreate that Iacon? For all its glitter and light, at the end of the day a diamond is just a rock, and it is no good for breaking windows. Soundwave never wanted that. A million years ago, he had burned to break that glass city apart. 

Now, he noted with a bittersweet tinge as he walked alongside Ultra Magnus past crews in the midst of their construction work, messengers speeding by, and bots simply out on a stroll in the late evening, he was picking the fragments from his body and building something back up. 

“Soundwave?” 

Soundwave tilted his head up with an inquisitive “hm?” 

Magnus smiled at him – an expression that came to his face so easily and immediately that it made something sweeten inside him. “What do you think of the hospital plans? You probably got the report on this as well already, but I was wondering about your opinion on the disagreement.” 

Soundwave had to stop for a moment. Hospital plans? He thought he had read those, but last night had been a bit… busy. 

He had been trying to work though the mountains of memos and paperwork on his kitchen table when he had gotten a call from Cyclonus. He’d been able to guess the cause the second he had picked up and heard a crash in the background behind Cyclonus’s fretful tone. He hurried over to the small plaza to find Galvatron in a rage, lashing out blindly at anyone who dared stray too close to him. There were a few Autobots in the vicinity, and Soundwave was displeased to notice their hands on their weapons – it was a good thing he arrived when he did. He had leveled a sharp glare at those autobots, sighing internally in relief when they left shortly. 

Many bots had struggled to adjust to a life free of constant combat (and for that Soundwave could not blame them), but out of them all, Galvatron had it nearly the worst. He reacted at the drop of a coin, fluctuating between triumphant joy and paranoid fury, and whenever Soundwave saw him like this he cursed Unicron bitterly for twisting his mind into seeing any touch as a hostile one. Cyclonus had tried to explain what had triggered Galvatron’s panic, but Soundwave couldn’t quite remember it now through the sleep-deprived fog. He had simply reached out, slowly, gently, with his mind, and brushed against Galvatron’s. 

Galvatron jumped at the touch, but Soundwave didn’t say anything – he posed no orders or questions, but simply stayed, hovering there next to his consciousness, nonjudgemental, undemanding. 

It took an hour or two, but bit by bit, Galvatron had latched onto the cool, steady aura beside him and followed its example. He might have even followed it too well; as Cyclonus took his hand to lead him back to his room, his optics had begun to dim, and Soundwave had checked his internal chronometer to realize it was nearly morning and he wasn’t yet done with his paperwork. Needless to say, he hadn’t gotten much rest.

Now, he wracked his sleep-addled processor for some kind of detail about a hospital, but couldn’t come up with a thing. Sheepishly, he looked up at Magnus. “I… do not quite remember the terms of this disagreement. I apologize.” 

Magnus blinked, but his surprise at Soundwave being unprepared was quickly overtaken by an understanding smile (Soundwave felt his spark melt just a little more). “No need. I can go over it, if you would like?” After receiving a nod, he started talking in that adorably formal ‘meeting’ tone of his. “The crux of it is which building should be chosen to house the hospital. One location – I believe it may have been a hospital originally before the war – is located closer to the most populous section of the city, and has a good layout for our needs. However, there are some stability concerns about the structure, and it’s a bit smaller than we would have hoped for. The other option looks to have been an office – it has more open space, which is helpful considering the amount of patients they may have, but it’s farther away from the bulk of the population.”

Magnus waited for a response, cocking his head when none came. “...Soundwave?”

Soundwave, who hadn’t moved, flashed his visor once. “I am thinking.”

“Ah. Of course,” Magnus nodded promptly and looked back up. 

“...Primary concern is accessibility. First location would be the best option for this, and funds can be allocated towards stabilization. Internal walls could be knocked down to create larger space, which could be better managed alongside stabilization efforts.”

Magnus grinned – so openly and brightly it almost looked wrong on his face. “I agree completely. Would you mind if I noted your advice on my report?”

“Mm.”

Magnus paused. He then realized that Soundwave had started leaning on him some time in the last few minutes, and that his visor was quite dim. Lowering his voice as to not bother him, he said, “Er- Soundwave? Do you want to sit down somewhere?”

“Mmno, just need a moment,” Soundwave replied in a distinctly drowsy tone. 

Magnus huffed a soft sigh. “Alright. Take as long as you need.” 

Iacon didn’t glitter like he remembered. Most of the glass had blown out, the steel warped and blackened, the towers fallen down long ago. The sun had dipped below the horizon just far enough that the world had turned blue, and the half-repaired ruins cast long shadows over the streets. Standing there, Soundwave a warmth against his side, Magnus could see some lights glimmering on in a few windows, little glowing pockets in the great blue-black hollows of Iacon. It was gigantic, and cold, and lonely, and-

Ah. Soundwave was asleep. 

Magnus sighed, and gently roused him – just enough so they could both transform and let Soundwave sit inside his cabin of his alt mode as he slowly trundled home, the hum of his engine lulling him to sleep once more.

[literate-lamb]

Man of the House | prologue

Sam Wilson/fem!Reader, future dark!Bucky Barnes/fem!Reader 

Of first meetings with your landlord and being enamoured with the hauntingly beautiful house. A new start.

► warnings(!): none for this chapter, eventual dubcon/noncon, eventual choking in future chapters. this is a dark fic.

a/n: I’m opening a taglist for this series, just hmu with an ask.

When people think of Fall, they can’t help but attribute it to the crispy coldness, the yellowing of leaves, or children in pumpkin patches. Young adults would probably think of the pumpkin spice lattes from cafes, or for the fans of the occult, All Hallow’s Eve’s approach comes to the mind. Just like the changing of leaves, for you, Fall reminds you of new beginnings. A fresh start.

The autumn wind chills as you huddled closer in your coat, trying to retain warmth. Your old car —a Studebaker Lark ‘63— parked on the curb of the road as you approached the house. 

Ahead over you, in its Gothic Revival glory, sat a white wooden house. The drab grey sky made it seem more imposing in stature. The roof was a contrasting grey, steeply pitched with an arched gable. Delicate wooden trims decorated the front; nothing intricate but a simple design. Dirty windows entered your peripheral, the accumulated dust blurring them. 

Taking everything in, the house seemed well-maintained, but the chipping of paint reminded you of its age. 

Nevertheless, for a structure of such grandeur, it was astonishingly inexpensive. After hours of pouring over internet searches, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you stumbled upon it. 

The house was a classic; with its architecture and size, you deemed it perfect. Located in a quieter part of Maryland, bordering DC; not too far from your place of employment, but far from the cacophonies of the city. This, you considered, was your fresh start.

Standing near the driveway was a greying gentleman; grey hair perfectly coiffed, crow’s feet in the corners of twinkling blue eyes. You assumed he’s in his 60’s or 70’s. He greeted you, his weathered face smiling, with a walking stick in hand, although he still seemed strong for his age.

“Good day, Mr Rogers,” you smiled, shaking his offered hand. “Thank you for meeting me today.”

“It’s a pleasure, dear,” he replied. “Let’s go in, shall we?” 

Stepping onto the porch, you observed your surroundings. The rustling of trees by the wind was the most prominent of sound, if anything else, it was dead quiet. You could see other houses scattered in the distance, however no immediate neighbours were within vicinity. 

The click of the front door unlocking pulled you. The inside was dark, the dusty windows permitting little light, while the floor was covered by a thin layer of dust. 

Mr Rogers walked in first, pushing the door and held it open for you. You thanked him, pleased with his gentlemanly ways.

A hiss left you at the sudden switching of lights, attacking your eyes as they readjusted. You blinked a few times to take in the interior. 

The hallway was long; cream coloured wallpaper hugged its sides, ending to a larger room in the distance. The walls were bare except for a few random antique mirrors. To your left, a stairway sits. It contrasts the walls; a rich, sturdy, mahogany. To your right, an entrance way opens up; silhouettes standing in the dim shadows.

“I apologize, it’s a bit dusty,” said Mr Rogers, sheepishly. “I try to clean it up at least once a month.”

“By yourself?” you ask, bewildered.

He chuckled, “No, with a cleaning company, dear.”

Telling you to follow him, Mr Rogers stepped into the entryway to your right, switching the lights on. 

The silhouettes you saw earlier were of the furniture strewn about; chesterfield sofas, armchairs, and antique floor lamps crowding the room. A fireplace stood near another entrance, a large mirror erected over its mantle, reflecting the rays from the porch windows. It looked like a scene out of those classic films you used to love. If tidied properly, this would be the best reading spot, you thought.

“This is the parlour,” he announced, “Great for having guests over.”

“It’s beautiful,” you beamed. 

Moving forward, Mr Rogers walked through the other entryway, leading to a dining room. From your vantage point, you could see this is the room the hallway ends up to. 

Smacked in the middle, a sleek white marble dining table sits. Its length stretches across the room, sets of dining chairs accommodating tens of people. It looked ideal for hosting dinner parties. 

The dining room was connected to the kitchen in the back, easing the transferring of food. When you stepped foot into the kitchen, you didn’t expect it to be extravagantly spacious. You smiled, envisioning  yourself cooking meals in this kitchen.

“There are a few pots and pans under the cupboards if you ever want to use ‘em,” the older man says. “They were my wife’s” 

Curious, you pressed, “Your wife, sir?”

“Yep, my wife, Peggy,” he smiled, eyes distant, lost in a different time, “Actually, she was the one who owned this house, or atleast, her family did. I inherited it after she passed away, felt it was too big to live by myself ya know?”

You hummed in understanding. He must have lived a fulfilling life with his wife, judging by the look. After a few seconds, he snapped out of it, composed himself, and marched on.

“This here leads to the back of the house,” he gestured to a door, the upper half a transparent window. You could see tall blades of grass and the dense trees swaying out back, reacting to the wind. “And this one’s the laundry room, the bathroom’s next to it,” he continued, opening a second door in the kitchen.

You both left the kitchen, entering the hallway through the dining room. As you passed, you noticed a set of stairs obscured under the main staircase. It was smaller, leading down under, ending where a thick black door stood in slight darkness.

“Uhm, Mr Rogers?” you asked, pausing. “What’s that room?”

The older man stopped, turning to look back. 

“Oh, that’s the basement. Nothing exciting down there though, just a furnace and some tools. I’ll show you soon,” he seemed to ramble, before turning his back quickly. Without waiting for you, he started climbing the stairs, slowly, hand gripping the railings tightly, walking stick in the other.

That prompted an eyebrow raise from you, he almost seemed flustered. Shrugging it off, you followed.

“So, tell me, dear,” he started, “What brings you searching for a house in this area? It’s not exactly the most happening of places for youngsters.”

The question surprised you. Usually most landlords don’t bother to know such, especially of potential tenants. Their only concern being prompt payments, or you’re out.

“Um, I’m a vet, and I actually work closer here than if I live in the city,” you replied, “Plus, it beats the DC traffic.” Which was true, harrowing through traffic everyday was exhausting.

Mr Rogers chuckled in response.

The second floor was the same layout as the floor below; a long hallway with doors. You noticed there were even more mirrors on this floor. Come to think of it, there were mirrors in every room you’ve been in so far.

“There are three bedrooms and a bathroom on this floor,” —the man explains, opening a door— “And this is the master bedroom.”

It was spacious and regal, light blue walls with dark furniture occupied the room; a king-sized four poster, a vanity, and a large wardrobe stood next to a closet. On the furthest side, two stained glass doors stood, leading to a balcony overlooking the front yard. The colours from the glass reflected on the walls, giving allusions to crystalline shapes. You imagined how they’d reflect during sunset. It was perfect.

The tour commenced with Mr Rogers showing the other two bedrooms and bathroom. At the end of the hall, he led you to a wooden ladder that stood connected to a latch door in the ceiling. 

“That’s the attic, nothing much but dust and some old furniture,” he pointed, “You can take a look at ‘em and see if they’re to your liking when you decide to move in.”

Heading down the stairs, the basement was the last place on the tour.

“So, how are you liking the place so far?” he asks, walking beside you.

Biting your lip, you chose your words carefully. “It’s beautiful, the furniture, the decor, and such big space as well,” you said, “Although I’m surprised that I’ll be getting all of this, especially with the price.” 

The elder man picked up on your apprehension, “Ah, about that, I’ll discuss the details with you after we finish.” He took the lead, pushing the thick black door with his body. He was stronger than you expected. 

A sense of foreboding was felt at first as the door creaked. After going further down the steps, it wasn’t as dark as you expected. Minimal light shone in through small windows on the upper walls, the glass separating the two worlds.

The dangling chain on the ceiling was pulled, flooding the space in light. Adjusting to the brightness, you could see it was dustier in the basement. Cobwebs hung in corners, entangling corpses with them. Thick dust covered the surface of shelves, as if a blizzard invaded. An even thicker silence settled, deafening to the core.

“Don’t you worry about that thing,” the man’s voice echoed, pointing to a furnace in the back, “Got that serviced this year, if anything happens just let me know.” Turning to the shelves, he seemed to inspect them for a few moments, eyes squinting. “And there’s a lot of tool boxes in here,” he gestured to the heavy shelves, pushed to the walls, “Feel free to use ‘em.”

Not wasting any time, Mr Rogers turned back towards the stairs. You followed suit, pulling the chain, basking the basement in darkness once more. 

As you began to ascend, a sudden strong scent invaded your nostrils, wafting through like an uninvited guest. You gave another whiff. A musky scent, wild, and smoky, further reminding you of Fall. 

Casting one last glance into the darkness, you shrugged it off, and closed the door. Must’ve been Mr Rogers’ faint cologne.

You observed the state of the porch as Mr Rogers locked the front door. The porch needed sweeping, you noted, stepping on a sea of dead leaves, their crunching audible. 

Overlooking the lawn, you noticed a pair of blue eyes at the edge of the porch. A pair of white fluffy ears accompanied, flickering occasionally. You smiled, it seemed like you had a visitor.

Squatting down on the steps of the porch, you chittered, hoping to catch its attention. After a few seconds, a white blur zoomed in, scurrying then stopping abruptly at your feet. It mewled, wide blue eyes staring, demanding attention. You petted and scratched below its jaw, the creature emitting content purrs. 

“Looks like she’s taken a liking to you,” voices Mr Rogers from behind, “She’s a stray, always coming ‘round.”

“I’m surprised, she’s very friendly,” you said, petting snowy fur.

Seconds pass, the cat’s purr the only sound. 

“I’m sure you’ve been wondering regarding the rent,” he breaks the silence, taking a seat on the porch steps. “Why it’s so… well, cheap, for a fully furnished house like this.”

“Well… yeah, I actually almost thought it was a scam,” you replied, sheepish. “I had to actually see it for myself.”

The older gentleman laughed, “I don’t blame you, it sounds too good to be true.”

And indeed, it was. For a classic house like this, dating probably a century back, and fully furnished, something must be up. It was too good of a good bargain.

“Actually, there’s a reason why I put it that way,” he admits after a few beats. “Tell me, do you believe in ghosts, dear?” 

You frowned, wondering where he’s going with this, “Can’t say I do.”

“Let me guess, atheist?” 

“Agnostic.”

He smiles mirthlessly, “Well, I can’t say I believe in them either, but for the past years, I’ve been having trouble getting tenants to stay.” That piqued your curiosity.

“What do you mean, sir?” you pressed, intrigued.

“Past tenants have told me they’ve been… spooked while living in the house, like things disappearing and reappearing, or hearing footsteps and what not,” the man explains, “But I can’t say it’s true since it’s all peaceful whenever I stay here, or check up on maintenance. I’ve even had a friend stay here for a week, and nothing!"

Ah, the classic household haunting you’ve always seen in movies; missing items, heavy footsteps, the feeling of being watched. Sitting on the steps, you felt like a walking cliché; the stupid girl who goes into a large house knowing it’s haunted, wanting a taste of thrill. Yet, you can’t be bothered. You’ve always been a skeptic, a believer that science and logic can debunk these things.

“What I wanted to ask you is, would you still want to move here after all I’ve told you?” the older man asked. “I’d understand if you want to back out.”

His question shows how concerned he is about others, even if it’ll put a damper in his business. You felt lucky to have stumbled upon an honest and understanding landlord, not everyone had that privilege. But something felt off.

“I don’t understand, while I appreciate it, why do you need to disclose this, sir?” you ask, weirded out. “Isn’t it buyers beware?”

“It’s a part of the law to categorize it under ‘stigmatized’ property,” he replied. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if you didn’t know,” he chuckled, you joined him. “So, what about it, dear?”

Stroking the cat, you thought about it. You were never a believer of ghouls nor other other-worldly beings, and you weren’t going to start now. While the presence of ghosts could never be proven or denied, you believed that every occurrence has a logical explanation, even the paranormal. You weren’t about to let go of a wonderful place just because some ghost decided to move in as well. Stigmatized or not, you’ve found yourself a good deal. The perfect start.

“Don’t worry Mr Rogers, ghosts or no, nothing's gonna stop me from living in this house,” you smiled. He returned it.

Later, after much discussion and the exchange of handshakes, you left the house with a sense of relief. Pulling out of the driveway, you waved to the older gentleman, before speeding off. 

A few metres ahead, checking in the rearview mirror, you saw Mr Rogers still standing in the driveway. 

His smile never faltered.

The next day finds you working endlessly at the clinic, meeting furry patients left and right, tending to their dilemmas. The clinic was almost never vacant, the seats occupied always leaving behind fur. To you, it has always been a fulfilling job. Sometimes you’ll get scratched, or hissed at, but at the end of the day it was always worth the care.

Lunch came a bit later. Sighing, your shoulders relaxed. After attending to a cat that decided it needed to throw a hissy fit, you really needed a break. While shovelling food into your mouth, your phone suddenly rang; Sam Wilson flashing on the screen.

“Hi, baby,” you picked up.

“Hello, baby,” came the sultry voice on the other end. “How’s my girl doin’?”

“She’s doing fine, thank you for asking,” you teased. “Why’d you call? Did something happen?”

Muffled chuckles rang through the speakers, “No, nothing happened, just wanted to know how you’re doin’. Hey, how was the house? All good?” 

“It was gorgeous! And fully-furnished too!” you replied, gleefully. “It was all antique, the master bedroom was my favourite,” and you continued telling him of everything, from the fancy parlour to the stained glass doors. Sam listened attentively, humming and responding at appropriate times. And this is why you loved him. He was always the talkative one out of you two, yet he never talked out of turn, always putting you first. “Oh, and I’ve found out why it’s so affordable.”

“Let me guess, someone died in that house?” 

You chuckled, “Close, apparently it’s ‘haunted’, ooh,” you booed. “The landlord said he had never experienced it during all his years there, nor did his friend that apparently stayed there. So it makes you wonder, if it were just stories from people paranoid about living in an old house.”

“Sounds like it,” Sam hummed. “Can’t wait to have sleepovers at your new place now.” 

You laughed, missing his dose of humour and his presence terribly. “I wished you were there with me.”

“I wished I had too, baby,” he murmured, “So when’s the moving date? Gotta put these bad boys into good use.” You heard him grunting, probably flexing his bicep from the other end. Sam’s antics always amused you. He was your happy pill.

“I told Mr Rogers —that’s the landlord— I’ll be moving in two weeks,” you explained. “Do you mind taking a day off to help me? Pretty please?”

“Anything for you, baby.” 

[keig-hoe-takami]

Chapter 1

‘Ichirou, wait for me!’ Mina yelled to her furry eared friend who seemed to have completely forgotten she existed.

‘huh- oh! Sorry Mina I’m just super brain dead at the moment,’ she muttered, grey eyes looking down at her black school shoes,

‘Thinking about the entrance exam?’ Mina questioned, the UA entrance exam was tomorrow and despite wishing with all her heart that the two of them would make it to the elite hero school, Ichirou knew how hard it could be. Still, a girl could dream.

‘How’d you know,’ she replied somewhat sarcastically as the girls headed out of the front doors,

‘Don’t worry about it ‘rou- we just have to do our best! Besides, your quirk is crazy awesome, any hero academy would be happy to have you.’

‘Says you- your quirk is so cool,’ the girl lifted her hands, making pew pew sounds to mimic the alien queen’s quirk as the girl beside her giggled.

Two strong hands suddenly began to ruffle the two poor girls hair, Ichirou’s ears folding in irritation,

‘Hey if it isn’t pinky and puppy!’ The black haired boys arms dropped to their shoulders as he squeezed himself in between the best friends.

‘Hey Kiri, you ready for tomorrow?’ Ichirou asked, fixing her charcoal grey ears

‘You know I am, you feeling those biceps?’ He exclaimed,

‘We sure are.’ Mina rolled her eyes at the boys show of confidence, not that the girls didn’t enjoy the slightly insane things Kirishima came out with during the displays of manliness he saved just for them.

‘Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow okay?’ Ichirou said, breaking from the group to catch her bus,

‘Bright and early.’ Mina replied, throwing up a peace sign,

‘Later puppy!’ called Kiri as she turned down the neighbouring street.

The walk to the bus was refreshing, finally able to think without hearing Mr Ito drone on about quadratics. As long as the practical test was close combat, she’d be fine. Her quirk didn’t do very well at long distance, despite her heightened senses making it easy for her to sense things coming, her claws were only useful during one on one fighting. Her increased strength and speed also lending to the fighting style. As she reached the bus her swaying tail wrapped itself around her leg politely, as it often did in crowded places.The bus ride was long, Ichirou lived pretty far out of the city and unlucky for her, her mum was often too busy to pick her up. But still, the alone time was appreciated, she thought back to Mina’s words, her friend had been right, mutant quirks were often accepted at a pretty high rate, just lower than those with power up quirks, so even if she didn’t get into UA, the chances of achieving her dream and becoming a hero were still high.

‘Holy shit, we’re actually here!’ The red head exclaimed as the three friends crossed the gates to UA hero academy. Ichirou was nervous, rightfully so, but she also knew that there was no point in worrying- she just had to battle through the nerves and do her best!

‘I’m getting anxious- what if we haven’t revised enough?’ Mina fretted, despite her sunshiny demeanour, the pink girl often worried about academic skills- relying on Ichirou to help her with homework every other week.

‘Don’t panic Mina- we’ve been working so hard all year- its going to be fine.’ Ichirou tried to reassure her, squeezing her hand and sending a confident smile her way.

‘Yeah exactly, and even if we don’t do great in the written test- there’s still the practical exam! The perfect place to show off your manliness!’ Kirishima chimed in,

‘I don’t have any manliness Kiri!!’ the stressed girl cried in exasperation,

‘Pinky come on, you’ve got more manliness than me- you’re awesome!’ the boy wrapped an arm around his friends shoulder, pulling Ichirou with her. The three fell into each other, breaking out into giggles before realising exactly where they were, the steps to the entrance. This was it. They were going to make it!

The written exam ended up being easier than expected for Ichirou, but the same couldn’t be said for Kiri and Mina- the two wannabe hero’s had struggled and were hoping to do better in the practical part of the exam. Ichirou was pulled from her thoughts by the enthusiastic yelling of Present Mic, pro hero and teacher at UA as he explained the battle ground that would contain the practical segment of the exam.

The exam seemed like it would be pretty easy for Ichirou, being short range fighting, and the girl began to think that she might just actually get into the Hero Academy. The unlucky thing for Ichirou, was the fact that she wouldn’t be with Kiri and Mina for the exam, apparently being with people you already knew was an unfair advantage, so the girl would have no one to lean on.

Ichirou looked around her group for the exam, everyone looked pretty strong and kind of unapproachable, which was understandable considering the stakes. She was pretty sure she looked scary too, surveying the crowd and trying to figure out her opponents weaknesses. Her eyes met those of a boy with ashy blond hair who had been stood confidently near the front of the pack, his muscles flexing as he crossed his arms and scowled at her. Ichirou felt her face heat up as she quickly looked away. Now was not the time.

‘And the exam begins!’ Present Mic’s voice sounded round the arena as the ten minute countdown began.

Letting in a deep breath, Ichirou felt the change come over her, enhancing her senses as she feels the people around her start to move forward. She set of at a run, faster than her average speed thanks to her elevated wolf form, her puffed up tail swaying behind her as she picked up the pace. If she was going to get into UA, she was going to have to tap into her wolf senses more than ever before.

Her vermillion eyes spotted a villain at the end of the deserted street she’d been running down, sometimes it was best to get away from the pack. Directing all her attention towards the approaching bot, Ichirou extended the dark claws at the ends of her fingertips, aiming carefully for the perfect weak spot She found it, claws grabbing at the metal body of the machine and pulling the surface away to reveal the wires that she quickly cut through, claiming her first three points. The sweating girl was almost to busy rejoicing to sense the 2 point robot sneaking up behind her. Almost. At the very last minute, she turned, stretching her leg out with all her might and breaking off the head of the robot. Understanding now that there was no time to enjoy her quick victory, the girl hurried off in the direction of her other contestants, taking out robots on the way and slowly increasing her score.

As she reached the Main Street of the urban battleground, a loud booming noice filled her sensitive ears (an irritating downside to her quirk) leaving them ringing. She looked around for the creator of the horrible sound, almost giving up until she saw the blond boy from earlier surrounded by bots. Another explosion sounded from the vicinity and by the looks of things, they were thanks to the boys quirk. Great. Still, he looked like he needed help so the wolffish girl ran over, grabbing at the head of one of the robots that was advancing on his back, kicking at its body and effectively splitting it in two. She turned to another bot that looked worryingly close to the overwhelmed boy.

‘Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing!’ The boy shouted aggressively as he aimed another ear bleeding explosion toward the oncoming bots.

‘I’m helping you out!’ Ichirou was shocked at his tone, but still sent him a smile as she scratched at her bots wires.

‘You’re stealing my bots, you extra!’ the boy directed more of his attention towards the girl as the onslaught of bots became easier to deal with,

‘Seriously? You think you could have finished this without me?’ She took a deep breath as her final bot fell.

‘Of course I could have, did you see my fucking quirk?’ All his attention coming to face the irritated girl beside him,

‘Yeah I saw your fucking quirk, heard it too.’ Ichirou replied, his red eyes finally meeting her own, she looked him up and down. Fuck. He’d looked hot before they’d started but now, with his hands smoking and sweat soaking his vest, he looked- well, shit, he looked even hotter.

‘Whatever, runt.’ The blond boy replied, turning down the street and leaving her behind,

‘I’m not a dog!’ She shouted after him, a blush forming on her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with her brain, to find someone that brash and irritating hot? With no time to think, she set off in the opposite direction of the aggressive boy.

The ten minutes seemed to last a lifetime as Ichirou racked up points, sticking with a larger group of wanna be hero’s to protect them and herself. All was going well and good until suddenly a loud crash was heard from around the corner and a building began to tumble into the road. The cause of the huge destruction rounded the corner. The robot towered over the students, an unexpected obstacle that they hadn’t been warned about by Present Mic.

‘What the hell is that thing!’ A girl with strange tentacle like objects coming from her ears said what everyone was thinking.

‘Just run guys!!’ A tall, bulky boy cried out, already turning on his heals. Ichirou would have turned with him, deciding that her quirk, or anyone’s for that matter, would be useless against the machine, but before she could, her sensitive ears picked up on a whimpering from underneath the rumble. And without even realising that she’d started running, she was sprinting toward the sound to see what she could do. Fucking hero complex. She neared the rubble that the cries were coming from, there was at least two voices both seeming to be male. The threat of the robot still loomed above her, but Ichirou could only hope that she would make it in time.

‘Ouch- you’re crushing my arm!’ the higher voice cried, they were close,

‘Hey! Are you guys okay?’ Ichirou kneaded down, trying to find the boys but it was too dark,

‘What do you think?’ the high voice from earlier questioned in exasperation,

‘Dude, chill.’ A calmer voice rang out, ‘Do you think you could help us out?’

‘I cant really see much but I’m going to try move some stuff first.’ The huge robot was searching the area, Ichirou knew she couldn’t bring attention to herself, but she also knew one wrong move would result in the two boys being even more crushed. This was going to be tricky.

‘I think I could give you a hand with that- hold on’ For just a few seconds, light filled the tunnel the boys seemed to be stuck in, thankfully it was enough for Ichirou to gain her bearings.

‘Cool, give me one second.’ The girl reached for a large piece of metal that would hopefully clear an exit for them to climb out.

‘Thanks a lot, couldn’t have made it out without you.’ the boy who had managed to light up said appreciatively,

‘Yeah…’ the other, smaller boy with balls for hair said slowly, drool practically running down his chin as he definitely wasn’t looking at Ichirou’s face.

‘It was no problem, are you alright now? I just want to go see if I ca-’

‘TIMES UP!’ Present Mics voice rang around the arena, cutting the girl off.

‘Huh, guess we better head to the entrance.’ The blond boy looked worried, the rubble incident had lost all three of them precious time.

‘Yeah, I’m Ichirou Sato, by the way.’ She replied smiling at the boy next to her,

‘I’m Denki, Denki Kaminari. Nice tail.’ Denki replied as the three made their way slowly towards the larger group.

‘I like your tail too,’ said the purple headed boy, though somewhat creepier than Denki had been.

‘Thank you, your quirks really cool Denki, but um- I haven’t seen yours yet.’ Ichirou gestured toward the strange boy, giving him a tight smile.

‘Yes, I just-‘ there was a pause as the boy pulled one of the purple balls from his head, ‘I just do this.’

‘Oh, that’s pretty neat.’ Ichirou said raising her eyebrows at the slightly strange quirk.

‘Yeah that’s real cool buddy.’ The two shared a look, knowing that with a quirk like that, it would be surprising if the poor guy managed to get into UA.

“Chirou!’ Mina cried, running towards her tired friend and throwing her arms around her, ‘How do you think you did?’ the question was much more serious, Mina pulled back to stare into Ichirou’s eyes,

‘I think I did pretty well, my group was really good though, how did you guys do?’ She replied, now noticing a somewhat bummed out Kirishima standing behind Mina and scuffing his feet,

‘I worked as hard as I could, but Kiri here,’ the pink girl turned to poke him in the chest, ‘seems to think he did bad.’

‘What, why Kiri?’ the two girls turned their attention to their beat up looking friend,

‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, turning on his heal ‘come on lets head home.’

‘Oh hell no, tell us what’s wrong.’ Mina was adamant to understand why Kiri was so annoyed at himself. He got like this at times when he didn’t think he’d done his best, all closed off and anxious to change the subject. Ichirou had been friends with him long enough to know that he needed to talk, but didn’t want anyone thinking he wasn’t manly.

‘Kiri, you can talk to us, you know that.’ Ichirou said, linking their arms together as Mina did the same on the other side, ‘If you don’t want to its perfectly fine, but we are right here.’

‘I know where you are, puppy. I just, I don’t know, I just think there was some guys in my group doing better than me, I mean there was this guy literally bulldozing through stuff, all I can do is block!’ Kiri replied, sighing in exasperation smiling and squeezing the two girls arms tight as they headed out of the gates,

‘Don’t worry about what other people can do, Kiri, your quirk is so awesome-’ Ichirou reassured him,

‘Its got pro hero potential.’ Mina chimed in, reiterating the words that Mr Ito so very often used to describe Kirishima,

‘Yeah exactly, you’re gonna be the manliest hero there ever was.’ The other girl finished, smiling up at the blushing boy,

‘Thanks guys, it- it really means a lot.’ There was a lull as the three friends now wondered what it would be like if they all managed to reach the next step of their dreams

‘Do you guys just wanna crash at my place?’ Mina asked, looking other at the two hopefully,

‘Hell yeah!’ Ichirou replied, ‘But I don’t know how much fun I’ll be- I’m so tired.’

‘Me too, don’t worry, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.’ Mina reassured her,

‘It was so awesome, it felt like I was a real hero.’ Kiri chimed in,

‘Yeah same! I felt so cool!’ Mina agreed,

‘Everything was so insane- did you get a huge robot?’

‘Uh-huh it was massive, I thought it was just supposed to be zero points!’

Ichirou smiled as her two friends shared their stories but her brain was just too tired to chime in, god she hoped the three of them made it.

[butterfly-winx]

More from Lynphea

Architecture ° Religion ° Treetop living

Seeing the way of life of Lynpheans that is so interlaced with the nature arund them, people of other cultures often stereotype them as lazy, hippy-ish and completely disregard the hard-working core of their culture. Worse is it even when off-worlders infantilise Lynpheans and see their living conditions as a sign of destitute and poverty.

It is true that Lynpheans have to do a lot of things by hand that residents of industrialised societies see as unnecessarily tenuous work, since through the structure of their society they are being serviced and don’t need to do the same. (Ie making their own appliances and clothes by hand or coping with limited sanitation in some areas.) But that doesn’t make them poor or unfairly left behind by technological development. In some cases, Lynpheans work less and in better conditions than some exploited workers in industrialised societies.

The Lynphean life is an adaptation to the living conditions they are given and their settlements are nothing short of engineering wonders. People are educated and by utilising the abundance of domesticable animals on the planet, both goods and knowledge go around the planet. If maybe at an extremely slow pace, compared to like Zenith where you can send a parcel around the planet in a day.

Flora’s treetop settlement is one example of such an architectural wonder. Trees reaching staggering heights of almost 100 meters are used as safe residences, far away from bottom layer predators and bugs, ever so closer to the sun in the thick tropical forests. Houses and huts are predominantly built on non-invasive platforms and connected by rope bridges and pulley systems. The connecting passages and lifts are laid out so that they are usable with mobility aids as well.

Treetop dwellings don’t just hold houses, but communal spaces, places of worship and sanitation systems, but most astonishingly tenable fields as well. Tightly grown branch systems are used (or created through generations of gardening and pruning) that is compacted with dirt and tightened with ranks and air-plants. The slow compostation of those layers carried up from the ground creates great permanent topsoil that people can not only safely walk on, but also plant vegetables for their consumption.

Sanitation remains a problem in the treetop cities though. People frequently prefer to build these in the vicinity of rivers for this reason, but large water-collecting basins and cisterns are the way to go forwards for many others. So while water can be made available on treetops, it is not there in abundance and certainly not as running water from a tap. (Flora low key lost her mind when she arrived on Magics and water was just there in the tap every time she opened it and when she asked how much there was of it, like how much was she allowed to use a day, people looked at her weird. Water is just available, it is there, they never had to think about it.)

Despite these difficulties, Lynpheans keep high standards of personal hygiene. They might not shower daily (because they don’t have showers as such), but they wash with rags and basins, allowing themselves longer soaks in natural freshwater when they descend from their homes. 

Toilets are also taken care of in the form of outhouses. Excrement is composted as well as Lynphean diet is mostly plant based, further contributing to the treetop soil and its health. They are not very convenient to use at night of course, but needs must. They are illuminated by bioluminescent fungi and plants, because any other form of light would attract a whole host of unwelcome insects to the precarious location where you definitely don’t want to meet them during your nightly walk.

While shoes are definitely a bonus when walking on the ground with all sorts of stones and spikes, when in the Treetop village, most people go barefoot. It increases balance and offers better grip when walking on the thick branches. Even while in Magics, Flora prefers being barefoot when she is in the comfort of her home. Outside not so much because asphalt can get incredibly hot and dirty.

- - -

The belief system on Lynphea stems from their love for all things living. Their belief is that each spirit or soul is part of something larger, the Ghost that connects everyone and everything. Each soul is just a fragment that joins the whole in perfection when they pass away, only to be reformed into a new fraction in a new life. This is why they consider taking from nature like they would from another living body, from their own body. They are utterly respectful and take only what they need to survive. To them it is an exchange with the promise that they will prove something back.

Further, they even respect nature’s “personal space” so to speak and ask for safe passage with a small prayer rite whenever they need to travel or gather. They bring fragrant flowers or light an incense stick and bury appropriate gits (mainly fertiliser) at the roots of a tree where they wish to enter the forest outside of their home. Then each traveller introduces themselves and asks to pass through the are, promising to behave respectfully and asking to be left alone respectfully as well.

(This promise is often not fulfilled, because alas, insects listen to no god or spirit and they will swarm you. Thank the Ghost Lynpheans do have a solution to this particular problem: clothing woven from insect repelling grass. Worn over your underlayers it will keep you maximally bite-free!)

[guidedbynors]

The Heirs of Oralia (Part 1)

Note: This week I am changing up the formatting to practice and reflect on how the official Quest website (adventure.game) presents its signature adventure: Mischief Mountain.

Premise

For Guides:

Currently, Maergale is surrounded by an army of undead, per the scenario in Riot In The Streets, Ghosts of Crescent Wood, and The Dead Light. This adventure can be played in conjunction with these other adventures, or by itself.

Fischer Fissure was created a thousand years ago by a great and powerful wizard. Her name was Oralia Fischer. It is said she stood against an invading army by herself with nothing more than her wand and dressed in robes of crimson. As the invading army bore down on her Oralia stood her ground, raised her wand, and cast a spell that tore the earth asunder, creating a fissure that stretched 20 miles, from Lake Maer to the plainlands of Groth. However, legends say that as Oralia cast her spell, an arrow, fired from the bow of an archer struck Oralia in the heart. She died there and the invading army rode the distance around the fissure and sacked the village near Lake Maer. The populace of Maergale is the descendants of the invading army.

This adventure is about the perceptions we have of history. At first, Questers will be led to believe Oralia is the champion of this town, only to discover it is the archer who founded the Maergale City as it is today.

Intro

For Guides:

At the beginning of this adventure, Questers are presented with the dire situation outlined in Riot In The Streets. There doesn’t need to be a riot about to break out, but the undead army of Curiel Neralo is still present.

If this is a new group of players and characters, ask players how they know each other, why they are in Maergale and define some character dynamics. If you have fit this adventure into our own campaign or been playing through the Maergale City line of adventures, this may not be applicable.

When everyone is ready to play, read the introduction below. Modify the text to fit your players' situations in terms of experiences together.

At the beginning of this adventure, Questers start in Maergale City, but it won’t be long before they are sent on a quest.

Maergale City

Exposition: Read Aloud:

Maergale, the azure city, is named for the pure glacial waters of Lake Maer. It is a model of civilization. Perfect brick streets, towers that stretch to the sky, artists and merchants, scholars and students: all belong here. Yet a stench blows into this city. The undead army of Curiel Neralo waits outside, biding their time. What they wait for, nobody knows. They seek something of great power.

This is why you have been called by The Daughters of the Crescent. Yet all you have found, as you enter their offices, is a well-dressed possum in a tiny pantsuit, shuffling around on a high oak desk strewn with papers.

As you enter, the possum stands on its hind legs and nods its head, as though it knew you were coming.

Daughter Pelomn, Quest Giver, And Transdimensional Lawyer

For Guides:

Daughter Pelomn is a member of the Daughters of the Crescent, a political opposition group to the city council of Maergale. Daughter Pelomn is a possum with a degree in transdimensional law, and their main goal up until this point has been to bury the city council in bureaucracy and paperwork. Pelomn will tell Questers the story of Oralia Fischer and the wand she carried. Pelomn is unaware that Oralia isn’t the ancestor of the town, but rather, kin to the undead army outside (the people who inhabited the land of Maer before the invading army destroyed them). Pelomn believes the wand of Oralia is somewhere in the fissure she created. They ask Questers to retrieve the wand.

Exploring Fischer Fissure

For Guides:

The western tapering of Fischer Fissure runs along the north edge of Maergale. The northern gate of the city leads directly to a draw bridge that spans this tapering fissure. Below the bridge is a fast-moving river, though not white water, about 30 feet across. This is the ample outlet of Lake Maer.

Exposition: Read Aloud

The northern gate of Maergale is a broad wooden drawbridge reinforced by thick iron bands. It is closed, drawn up against the city walls, and the arched entrance that leads across the tapering fissure just beyond the wall. Five city guards occupy a checkpoint just within the wall and more sentries line the wall above, peering through parapets, their bows at the ready.

For Guides:

The guards are reluctant to let the bridge down. On the other side of the fissure is an army of undead and the guards are terrified that if they let down the bridge, the horde will seize the opportunity to attack and gain entrance to the city.

Bridge Master Bawb:

For Guides:

Bridge Master Bawb is a young and nervous man. He is terrified of the undead and will flatly deny Questers any request to lower the bridge. Questers can use clever roleplay or magical abilities to persuade Bridge Master Bawb to do so, but the grooling undead should be a focus if Questers decide on this course of action. Alternatively, Bridge Master Bawb will ask why Questers wish to leave the city. If they answer him truthful and tell him they wish to descend into the fissure, he will suggest repelling down from the city wall. Questers can also use any magical abilities to achieve the same outcome. If they decide to rappel using a rope, they will need thousands of feet.

Fischer Fissure:

Exposition: Read Aloud

The cliffs of the fissure are rough reddish stone. Below you, hundreds of feet, the water flows rapidly along. There are ample handholds and ledges as you descend, toward the water, the temperature dropping, a pungent and earthy tone reaching your nose. A mist glistens on your arms and legs, your face. Drips from your brow as you drop lower. Before long, you are soaked through with cold dampness.

At the bottom of the fissure, the cliffside recedes, leading to an undercut where the water has carved out sections of the cliff in the winter.

Everything is shadowed down here. It is difficult to tell how far the water has carved out the cliffs on either side of the river.

For Guides:

At the bottom of the fissure, nearly everything is in shadow. The ledge where Questers can find footing after their descent is a long and carved out part of the wall which is wide enough to walk three abreast for the most part. There doesn't seem to be anything in the initial vicinity, but Questers should know (or be reminded) that the place where Oralia Fischer made her last stand was some way to the west of where they have descended into the fissure. Questers will need some light, though it is too damp down here for torches. If they have no way of creating magical light, Questers' attention may be drawn to the river, which is home to a luminous fish that, if caught, can be used as a pale light. As your Questers travel west, following the river, you may choose to have them face a Trial in order to stay dry and warm. For every hour they are consistently chilled and wet, you may increase the cost of their abilities by +1 Action Points. Abilities that would usually cost 0 AP, would cost +1 per hour. This reflects the exhaustion Questers would feel at constantly being wet and cold more thoroughly than filling their inventory with exhaustion per the Quest Game Book.

Exposition: Read Aloud

You travel west along the thin ledge, the water and cold ever-present near you and on you. After about an hour of traveling along the river, the wall to your left suddenly opens up to a vast and yawning cave mouth. On the walls to either side are markings. Not made by water, but surely carved into the stone by hand. The carvings are simple and crude, though easily interpreted. The carved scene depicts a vast group of people on horses riding toward a solitary figure holding up a hand, rays slashing out from it toward the ground as well as the oncoming charge. A single arrow flies toward the solitary person.

As you examine this curious carving, you suddenly hear a scuffling sound from deeper within the cave.

The Heirs of Oralia:

FOR Guides:

Within the cave is a civilization that is directly descended from Oralia Fischer and the indigenous peoples of what is now called Maergale. They have burrowed into the cliffside, and then up so that during the winter they do not get flooded. Their homes are completely underground and they have evolved to possess a tremorsense that lets them detect vibrations in the ground. Their underground city is a labyrinth of small rooms, stone stairwells, and underground fungus gardens. There is no centrality to the city, but it seems fast and difficult to navigate once Questers are presented with it.

The underground people are not hostile, though they will become so if threatened. They look like humans but have overly large eyes and some webbing between their fingers and toes. Most of them wear clothes spun out of a strange and stringing fiber (from a fungus). They do not speak the same language as Questers, nor do they speak "common." Questers can explore the underground civilization as much as they want, but details concerning the underground city are not present or essential to this adventure. Instead, an emissary is sent to communicate with Questers but doesn't invite them in as they don't know if they can trust these outsiders.

Exposition: Read Aloud

From deep within the darkness of the cave a shape moves, tall, thin, and then slowly emerges from the dimming shadow. Is it a woman or a man? It is difficult to tell. The person is human-esk in appearance, but with eyes far larger than any human possesses. They have no hair, either, and wear a strange shimmering robe, woven of thick strands the same hue of oyster shell.

They speak: Gragek?

FOR GUIDES:

Let Questers struggle with the language for a time. There may be a magical item or spell Questers already have so to understand this person, if not, the emissary will point to the lone person depicted on the wall, then point to themselves. They are not trying to communicate that THEY are Oralia, but rather, Oralia and her people are their people. Then The emissary will point to the horde of cavalry and point to the Questers. If the Questers are able to communicate that they are not from Maergale, then the emissary will point to the cavalry and point up, toward Maergale instead. After that, the emissary will point to the arrow, then withdraw a small, thin stone box from its robe. Within is the arrow that killed Oralia (See Arrow of Oralia, at the end of this adventure for its magical properties). Lastly, the emissary will point to the hand of the solitary person, from which the rays of light spring. Then they will shrug, point to Questers, then to themselves, and offer Questers the arrow, as if in exchange. The emissary will point upward, out of the fissure and toward the army of undead, then to the place where Oralia's wand is indicated on the wall. Of course, if any of your Questers have a way to understand the emissary, this interaction can take place without the game of charades.

The Wand of Oralia:

For Guides:

The wand of Oralia is not in the fissure river, but rather with Curiel Neralo. He is using it to control the undead, though of course, Questers do not know this. The Heirs of Oralia do, however, though are unsure if they can trust the Questers with the information.

To Be Continued

Item: Arrow of Oralia

This arrow is old and worn and must be re-fletched before it can be used. This arrow always finds the heart of its target. It kills anything it is shot at.

[evolutionsvoid]

The sudden and inexplicable appearance of some alien entity was worrisome, but with all the other issues the earth was dealing with, it seemed inevitable. How a massive creature such as this one just happened to pop up in the middle of the country left many baffled, but since it was already stomping around, the higher ups decided that question wasn't top priority at the moment. Though it didn't seem to be targeting cities and military bases like many would expect for an alien invader, it quickly became apparent that this being was a huge problem. It showed no malice or anger towards humanity, hardly even raising a fuss when some idiots put a few tank shells into its hide. On its own, it didn't seem so bad, but unfortunately it brought something worse to the table than sharp claws and fire breath. It didn't take long for the creature to earn a name: Manic Burn. Though the passive bumbling giant doesn't seem deserving of such a title, it takes just one look at its victims to understand the destruction it can bring. The real danger that comes from Manic Burn is the vapor that is expelled from its body. This orange mist is pumped from the endless amount of holes and organic piping that cover its form, churning the stuff out at a rapid and constant rate. It creates so much of this substance that Manic Burn is always surrounded by a thick shroud of it, so much so that people have only been able to see its full body on extremely windy days. Unfortunately such days are the most dangerous to nearby organisms, because the wind spreads its vapors far and wide. Even on a calm day, its ceaseless expulsions can coat the landscape for miles around, requiring mass evacuations for any town in its vicinity. Such locations cannot be returned to until Manic Burn is out of the area for several days, as the residue left by the mist persists for days afterwards. Those exposed to its clouds of vapor will find it quite wet and sticky, the air practically clinging to your skin and clothes. Within seconds of exposure, one's whole body will be coated in the vapor's reside and that is when its effects kick in. The residue will undergo a chemical reaction with organic tissue, turning it into a caustic substance. The amount of catalyst and certain chemicals within the victim's body will affect the strength of the reaction. In normal conditions, the human body hardly creates enough of the currently unknown chemicals to create a strong reaction, greatly weakening the corrosive strength of the vapor. In this case, the vapor will give the victim something that is like a bad case of sun burn. The top layer of skin will be reddened and fried, but such injury will fade away as the dead skin sloughs off and the body heals. Unfortunately, it was soon found out that things like "normal conditions" and "calm and collected" were things that were not present outside a laboratory, and that is when the vapor revealed its true power. Though the residue does not react strongly to the body of a peaceful, calm human, it has a very different effect to those in a different state. When the human body is in an energized and stressed state, it seems to create much more of this certain chemical that the residue reacts to. Essentially, those who panic or are in fight-or flight mode will cause a severe reaction with the vapor and turn it from an irritating inconvenience to a horrific biological weapon. When juiced with these reactants and catalysts, the caustic strength of the residue spikes tremendously and it will begin to burn through the flesh. This effect is like napalm mixed with a chemical burn, as the surrounding vapor clings to the victim and continues to react. The sudden pain and panic that comes from watching your own flesh bubble and burn causes your body to create more of this reactant, further fueling this chemical fire. Once one delves into panic mode while exposed to this mist, there is little hope in stopping the inevitable escalation and death. A victim can go from perfectly fine to a melting skeleton in the matter of minutes, as all it takes is one strong instance of fear or excitement to catalyze the reaction. This is quite the problem for folk caught in the cloud of this massive beast, as it isn't exactly easy to remain calm in such a situation. 

To make matters worse, further studies show that the residue of this vapor contains trace amounts of pheromones that are released by Manic Burn. While it is unknown what these pheromones mean to the massive entity, they are capable of having a slight effect on the other organisms exposed to it. It seems the chemicals within it can imitate the effects of an alarm pheromone, tricking the brain and body. Exposure to this pheromone can cause victims to experience unease and anxiety, which is dangerous given the nature of the vapor. This slight stressor may be enough to push a victim into a scared state, which will trigger the caustic reaction. This makes the mist even more dangerous, as one cannot rely on their own mental strength to protect them. No matter how composed you may be, your body may be tricked by the pheromone and cause you to make a single, but fatal, mistake. It is highly recommended that those in designated risk zones should obtain gas masks, full body protection as well as sedatives. Those downwind of Manic Burn or in contact with the vapor should immediately take these sedatives and hunker down somewhere. Do not attempt to run or escape. Find a safe place and stay there. Do the best you can to avoid contact with the vapor and try to remain calm. If you or someone you know is not capable of doing this, then it is recommended that you obtain a tranquilizer and use it when exposed. All emergency response teams will be equipped with high powered sedatives and tranquilizers in hopes of preventing these reactions. Once the vapor is gone, one should find soap and water to wash off the residue. Take showers, not bathes, and be sure to scrub every inch of your body. While these precautions and steps are not foolproof, they can increase your chances of survival and hopefully save a few lives. The current plan is to destroy Manic Burn, but this has been found to be quite difficult. The entity seems to linger in zones that possess several cities and towns, creating the worry of collateral damage. With no current way to bait or lead the creature to some barren countryside, the fight has to be brought to it. However, previous attempts to wound or kill the beast has resulted in massive plumes of vapor being released. Injury to the body parts that emit this mist causes it to lose control of its output and release it in a powerful surge. This doesn't seem to hurt the creature in any significant way, but it does dump a large portion of deadly vapor into the air and possibly into the atmosphere. High reaching plumes may cause this vapor to spread over an even larger area, hitting populations that were believed to be safely out of range. It doesn't take long for Manic Burn to recover from these wounds, as its regenerative abilities are quite powerful. Holes are sealed up and limbs are regrown rapidly, making it a wonder of how much damage needs to be done before it truly dies. The other issue is that Manic Burn has remained quite passive during its time wandering the landscape. Attacks have pained it, but not too much. One has to wonder what will happen if the military chooses to up its game and unleash a full on assault. What will the beast do when faced with this threat? If it is capable of causing such misery and death while doing nothing, what will happen when it gets mad?     ------------------------------------------- Another entry for kaijune and another non-violent kaiju that somehow still ruins everything. Also I am pretty sure those aren't the lyrics.

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Dangerous Game Indeed

Part 4

Changing gears here for a moment. This part has no fluff. More character building than anything to set up the beginning of the next part, which should go back to being fluffy. Pretty sure I'm going to write their date next, but I felt it important to establish a few things early on. I promise if this gets you confused, the next part will explain what happened here better

~---~

So here's the thing about being a secret hero in a place teeming with vigilantes and villains. 

Being a bright red flash across the horizon doesn't work. 

Not that Marinette wouldn't love to zip across the high rise buildings by her yoyo, but it just wasn't a feasible option unless she wished to announce her presence to every person in the city. Seriously, Tikki, who does she think she is, Robin? One traffic light bright hero was enough.

That's how this… possibly unwise team up came to fruition. 

See, Mari planned to stay within the shadows, outta sight from the many bat people that stalked the rooftops at night, but like hell would she stay idle and complacent while Gotham suffered. So she waited and watched for quite some time before selecting her new miraculouses, eventually settling on the cat and fox combined. After all, chaos, destruction, and deceit work well together.

With her mind made up, she proceeded to plan out the costume and discuss how their powers were likely to combine; what to expect from this merge. The end result was magnificent. The bottomless-pit black bottoms were looser than anything she'd had before, wrapping tight in fabric bands only at the ankles and waist before shifting into a long sleeve shirt, just as free in the arms with the same tight bands at the wrists. The soft fabric draped across her chest, the front coming up to cover the bottom half of her face, the sides and back lifting up into a hood that covered her all the way to the eyes. Her gloves and hidden boots were a soot gray, indistinguishable in the dead of night and only barely of note in the day, with black claw tips and touch sensitive paw pads. Under the hood, her hair took on a more soot gray tone as well, black fluffy ears with gray insides just barely hinting out. A fluffy black tail with gray tip swished behind her. The colors were all Plagg while the design took more to Trixx. Her eyes however went into catlike slits of silver sclera and icy blue irises with what appeared to be black kohl ringing her eyes. Lastly, twin daggers tucked into the seams on her inner arms.

The first thing she discovered upon merging was that she became undetectable. Her movements made no sound nor did her breathing. She blended seamlessly with shadows and the night sky alike. People who looked in her direction would blink and discover it to be a trick of the light or assume it to be a delusion if they even saw her at all. It took concentration to push off the magic and allow others to see past the illusion. But she feared once it was gone, it'd be lost on that person forever. Sure, maybe they wouldn't notice her due to her own skill, but the magic would no longer protect her from them. So she didn't test it out. The next thing she realized was that her transformation didn't have much of a timer to detransform. Having worked with different kwamis for so long had built up a resistance to the strain. 

Secondly, she found their abilities didn't end at cataclysm and mirage. Funny thing about being in control of illusions and deceit; you could spot it in others from a mile away. Making villainous plans easier to tear apart without a charm. 

Plagg's… well Plagg's was different. As it turned out, death is simply an extension of destruction and while she had always known a poorly placed cataclysm could potentially end a life, she never expected this ability to sense death itself. She could feel when a place had seen too much or where it lurked heaviest in her vicinity. 

She could also sense when someone had been brushed with its weighted touch. Which had led to many tragic, heartbroken nights of research to discover why so many of the Waynes were smothered in it. From Jason disappearing for so long and being exposed to Kwami knows what. The potentially abusive upbringing of Damian by his mother who he refused to speak of. Bruce and his parents, murdered before his eyes. Tim losing his own parents and being around to bare witness to the many brushes of his adoptive family. Add on their secondary occupations and what it entailed and well, it was enough to know not to pry.

The first few transformations, she stayed docile, never engaging, silently observing the inner workings of the city. The next few, she branched out, interfering minor crimes with quick distractions and carefully curated traps. The criminals themselves would wake up outside the police station with evidence scattered about them and no memory of how they ended up there. Then a race against the clock would commence while they tried to gather everything thrown about them and run before any officers could take note and capture them. Mari took great pleasure in watching this part, sometimes binding their wrists or feet to add an extra element to their struggle.

The two kwamis truly brought out her more sly, volatile side.

Eventually it led to foiling larger scale villains when Batman seemed to be taking his own sweet time arriving to the scene. By the time he or one of his.. partners? Pupils? Kids? She never knew what he called them in costume... Well to whoever showed up, it would look like the plan collapsed within itself as though a few variables were forgotten or fell out of hand. 

The problem with starting to take action in a place like Gotham though is that no matter how much they can't prove your existence, the bats are bound to take notice. Because if they aren't the ones taking down these people, who is? 

That's how Mari found herself narrowly avoiding encounters on a weekly basis. Sure, no one spotted her yet, but tracking her location through found thugs she'd taken down moments before made for some close calls of almost physically being ran in to. Not sure how convincing of a pipe on a roof she could be if that were to happen. 

Add on her own animalistic instinct to hunt that led to many nights of stalking different vigilantes for hours on end, holding back the urge to pounce and well… it made for a dangerous game of cat and mouse. 

'Or rather, catfox and bird,' she thought, slowly inching along an edge wall of the roof where Red Robin laid in wait. 

Mari couldn't be sure how, but he seemed to have some sixth sense for looming figures. Either that or heaps worth of paranoia. Multiple times she'd had to hold deadly still while he whipped his head in her direction, staring her down. If it hadn't been for the magic whispering across her skin, Marinette was sure he'd have had her pinned within the first night of her stalking. As it stood, Red only stared quietly, eyes roving the area she kept to, only relenting when it seemed nothing would appear. 

Tonight… felt ominous. Marinette knew how dumb it was to purposefully follow Red, even more so while cleaning up the dock she had just vacated, leaving an unconscious scarecrow tied amongst his goons by crates worth of chemicals. Normally she wouldn't tie them up, but instead misconstrue things until it looked like an accident, confused weaker pawns wandering about, trying to collect their bosses only for the bats to find and finish up the job. However, her need to remain an unknown figure lost against the need for entertainment, so she made everything of her interference obvious, but left no trace of herself for Batman to find. 

Now she watched as Red stayed still upon the roof, clean up done and nothing left to do but think. She waited for pacing, frustration, anything. She received silence. 

How boring.

Of course... he knew it was her. 

Robin, Red Robin, and Agent A had all either figured it out or had been informed by herself. It was the rest of the family they kept in the dark, her unwilling to trust them with this yet and the three recognizing it as not their secret to tell.

Doesn't mean Red didn't take every opportunity to try and catch her slipping up.

Marinette could almost hear Plagg goading her to toy with the bird, Trixx right behind telling Mari to trust in the illusion. It would only break where she wanted it to. With that reassurance and no Tikki to reason with, Mari moved forward a touch, still completely hidden, but testing how well he sensed her. 

Immediately, he turned. She froze. Then remembering herself, she carefully focused on the magic about her before cautiously letting a huff of air out her mouth, just loud enough to pick up, but quiet enough to not immediately draw attention to her exact location.

It was enough.

"You're here." 

She met him with only silence for a moment then clicked her claws gently to confirm.

Zeroing in further, he took a step forward.

Sliding to his side, Mari carefully scuffed a boot and watched him follow her.

He seemed to assess the situation before turning back to where she was, allowing her to creep behind him. The tension in his shoulders let on to him knowing her actual location though. 

Of course she chose that moment to channel her inner idiot and play along. Tapping his shoulder in a clear indication of permission to turn around, as that seemed to be what he was waiting for, she hopped back into the shadows. It was obvious he was only showing passiveness to lure her into a sense of security enough to reveal herself. 

She knew this and yet as he turned to face her again, she focused into the magic, peeling it back until she knew her eyes alone glowed out at him from the dark.

She let him meet her eyes for only a half second before taking off, quickly blending into the night once more to the sound of curses from the next building over where Hood had been waiting to step in.

Maybe next time she would stalk Jason and see how he liked being watched.