#pinstripes-of-doom

[delicateartisantrash]

[rjavenuru]

Oh hey there, Tony Stark. 🤣🤣

[reallypleasanttree]

Obamitsu drabble post finale

The calm before the storm. Obanai told Sanemi all of the training they endured was the calm before the storm. A harbinger of the times ahead. Why did he have to be right? The sensation of impending doom as he dashed towards the Ubuyashiki Manor. The smell of gunpowder, fire, smoke, blood, and human flesh burning filled his nostrils. His eyes widened as he was met with the sight of Muzan, the Demon King. 

All of the other Hashira were here and everyone made their move at the same time. Everyone was in sync and ready to strike the demon. His grip tightened over the hilt as he prepared his first form. Kaburamaru hissed in response. 

Out of nowhere the strings of a biwa were struck and a trapdoor appeared beneath his feet. He fell just like he had inside the castle Sanemi and he visited months ago. Lanterns illuminated the hallways, columns, floors, landings, and other structures that crafted the castle. His head turned to the side as he took in the sight. Hundreds of demons peered out of the doors and windows. Their beady eyes were predatory and waiting for him and the rest of the Hashira to drop to the floor. The fall would kill them if they were not prepared. If this demon filled castle was to be his end he would welcome it. 

Now he felt himself weightless, suspended in the air. His pinstripe haori flew around him. Kaburamaru coiled tighter around his neck to ensure they stayed together. All of this would have been fine except when he looked upward he saw Mitsuri falling above him. 

No.

Obanai understood the type of future he was entitled to. None. But Mitsuri? She had the whole world before her. A family waiting at home. Those who loved her dearly and would miss her if she perished. His insides twisted painfully. 

Not her. 

He reached up with a trembling hand as if he could grab hold of her haori. They were falling indefinitely, unable to stop what was to come. There was no way to protect her. Who knew it would happen like this?

The storm was here and the end was near.

[watchful-crown]

a kayne malevolent playlist that our kayne malevolent fictive made:

songs + extra are under the cut

songs in order (so far):

Mr. Pinstripe Suit - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy (he feels like this song is about him. it also swings Hard and he likes that. also "mister wing-tipped shoes, hey mister always-on-the-go". also it's catchy, isn't it? "What?" catchy!! it's a catchy song)

Dr. Bones - Cherry Poppin' Daddies (singing and dancing and swinging along to it is fun. SHAKESHAKESHAKEEE SHAKE AND RATTLE, RATTLE 'EM, DR. BONES)

Puppet Loosely Strung - The Correspondents (reminds him of living through arthur's life in his shoes)

Stuff Is Way - They Might Be Giants (it's strange and nonsensical. he relates)

The Axeman's Jazz - Reddie & Abel (he likes swingin' to it and it's also based on an actual string of murders)

We Will All Go Together When We Go - Tom Lehrer (doomed world + upbeat tune. very kayne)

So You Wanna Marry Daisy - Spence Hood (he feels like the guy singing. the wicked schemer. he also thinks the lyrical You is arthur coded)

Blood - End Credits - My Chemical Romance (he likes blood)

The Scorpion and the Frog / Trust Me - Marc Senter, Jessica Lowndes, Terrance Zdunich (he feels evil when singing along to the scorpion) (and he likes that)

The New Knife Game Song - Rusty Cage (just. very kayne coded)

[miasmaghoul]

ghouls in suits. ghuits. swissdew dry humping. go crazy go stupid aaa

kfndjhb HAS ANYONE DRAWN GHOULS IN SUITS YET BECAUSE THAT'S IMMEDIATELY AT THE TOP OF MY HIERARCHY OF NEEDS JUST SAYIN

Ahem

Enjoy Dew being as weak for ghouls in suits as I would be.

somehow this became puppy play someone euthanize me i beg

Sometimes, Dewdrop wishes he was less obvious.

That he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. Didn't display his emotions with such easily read expressions. That he could keep his jaw from dropping at the slightest shock, or his eyes from going so wide they threaten to pop out of his head entirely.

Maybe if he were less obvious, he wouldn't be so thoroughly out of his mind right now. He shifts on his knees with a quiet whimper, sore from so long spent on the hardwood floor. Dew leans into the long leg at his side, cool fabric a relief against his overwarm skin.

"How's he doing?"

The voice is familiar, deep and warm. Aether, his fuzzy mind provides. Dew stares at the other ghoul's shoes, shiny leather loafers just barely kissed by the tailored hems of his pants. The way they reflect the light is entrancing. He wants to lick them. Callused fingers come to rub behind his ear, and Dew feels himself sink deeper.

"Oh, he's being a very good boy," comes Rain's casual lilt, paired with a tug of the leash in his hand. "Don't worry about him."

Dew makes the tiniest sound of surprise as he's pulled off balance, forced to grip Rain's suit pants to steady himself. The chunky leather collar Mountain had chosen sits just tight enough to make swallowing hard, which is a real pain for how much Dew is drooling. The others are speaking like he isn't even there, neither ghoul deigning to so much as look at the pathetic little thing at their feet. Dewdrop slips further.

Maybe if it had just been Aether and Rain in those fancy black suits - the ones with the stunning monochromatic pinstripes and deliciously sharp lapels, the ache between his legs reminds him - maybe he could've gotten away with his blush. Could've snuck away with one hand over his crotch and the other covering his mouth, running to the nearest storage closet to jerk himself stupid.

But then Mountain had come around the corner.

And Swiss.

And fucking Sunshine.

All in matching, perfectly fitted black three-piece suits with shiny silver buttons, black silk shirts and ties tucked into their waistcoats. Time had frozen the moment he'd stared into the common room. As he'd devoured them with his eyes, taking in every pair of broad shoulders, every cinched waist, every flashy cufflink, he'd spelled his own doom. He'd started to drool, legs collapsing as they turned to jelly and every drop of blood in his body shot south. Dew had started thrusting into the air unconsciously as he knelt in the doorway, and they had descended on him.

"Such a cute little puppy," Sunshine had said, teasing baby-talk, and oh had Dew's reaction been visceral.

So here he is, knelt at Rain's feet for the moment, collared and leashed and harder that he can ever remember being. Needy and sore and completely ignored. The others mill about, an occasional hand winding through his hair, but otherwise they say nothing to him. Don't pay him any mind. He'd tried crawling around in search of attention, back when he could still think, but Swiss had been quick to swat him on the ass and scruff him until he went limp.

He's been a good boy since then.

There have been people in and out of the common room throughout the day, but if they'd noticed him he hadn't been present enough to realize it. The other ghoulettes and Copia have all made appearances, asking whoever happened to be holding his leash at the time if they could say hello. Cirrus had kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair. Cumulus had asked for a kiss and Aether had made him lick her cheek.

Copia had asked to give him belly rubs. Mountain had let him, and that had been the thing to finally break him.

Dewdrop is pulled from his muddy thoughts with another sharp pull of his leash - Swiss, this time - and he crawls after him on stiff knees. Swiss's strides are long and Dew has to scramble to keep up, whimpering as his hand slips on the wood and he's forced to pause, the collar tightening.

"Come," Swiss commands, and any part of Dew's mind set on resisting his treatment crumbles to dust. He stares up at Swiss, the multighoul's gaze cool and almost...annoyed. Dew's cock kicks and leaks, weeping onto the floor. Swiss rolls his eyes and tugs again. "You'll be cleaning that up later."

"Aww, did the puppy make a mess?" Sunshine sing-songs from Mountain's lap, fiddling with one of his buttons. "Don't get too mad at him, he doesn't know any better!"

Dew feels like he's outside of himself as he listens to Swiss scoff, listens to him sit heavily in a plush armchair. His shoes are shiny too, just like Aether's. Dew can't make his neck move, stuck staring at the floor. At Swiss's feet. At his leg.

His hips start rocking again and they all laugh. Dew doesn't even have the brainpower left to be ashamed.

"You wanna hump my leg, don't you?" Swiss chucks him under the chin and Dew lets out a startled sound, looking up with glassy eyes. The multighoul reaches out and runs his thumb through the trail of drool slipping from Dew's mouth, dripping down his chin. "Dirty little fucker."

Dew lets out a pained yelp as Swiss yanks on the collar again, collapsing against the other ghoul's leg. He groans at the feel of luxurious fabric beneath his fingertips, rubbing his cheek against Swiss's thigh. They all laugh at him again and Dew is so far past caring it doesn't even faze him when Swiss fixes him with a predatory grin.

"Bark for me while you do, then."

Dew curls around Swiss's leg and starts to grind.

"W-woof." Swiss's smile goes soft and Dew presses closer. "Woof, woof." It's loud enough for all of them to hear, and distantly he recognizes the sound of belt buckles opening.

"Good boy," Swiss croons, "such a good dog."

Dew's tears are hot. He hopes they never stop.

[the-haunted-office]

@unbreakable-ribbons - Continued from here!)

Upon seeing the stranger back off in a hurry, Doom's eyes quickly un-narrow and her expression changes into one of mirth instead. She begins laughing and slapping at the knee of her pinstriped suit pants, as if this is one of the funniest things she's ever been a part of.

"Ehehehehehe! You people are just getting easier to scare these days, ehehehe!" she cackles, still bent over, and now she's rubbing at her eyes because they've started to water. Eventually she does straighten, though, a grin still firmly attached to her face. "Well, Manos, I'm Doomsday, and you know I've never liked that particular saying. 'If I were yours'. Implying ownership of a person. I wouldn't belong to you, nor you to me. I'd rather see it as a partnership - collective ownership over a united front. I dislike the idea of possessiveness. But I'm sure you didn't mean it that way, did you?"

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Whenever | Tagged by @stacispratt and @adelaidedrubman ❤️

A snippet from Chapter 1 of John's misadventures as a lawyer. Leslie and other familiar faces are in this universe too, baby.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Portland. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened.  Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.", the long-awaited announcement was music to John's ears as he looked through the window at the city and its twinkling lights below. 5 hours had passed in what he could only describe as torture. His day before that hadn't gone too well either, it felt like anything that could go wrong had, in one way or the other. His alarm not going off and almost making him late. Showing up at the firm only to find out Preston Manning, his second chair on the case, had called in sick and wasn't going to be making the trip with him. Penny slipping him her number for heaven knows what time and offering him a "quickie" in the bathroom for "good luck". More like a quick and proven way to get me a meeting with HR. Traffic and a flight delay (not unsual but still absolutely nerve-grating paired with everything else). The TSO officer taking way too long fondling him, as if he could have been hiding anything under a simple suit. The airline double booking his seat and giving him another last minute, which had doomed him to sit next to a menace of a passenger. In many ways he was happy to have left Manning behind in Atlanta, but he also couldn't deny the fact despite all his flaws he would have been more tolerable than the man that was currently using his shoulder as a pillow. He had lost count how many times he had shifted in his seat, tried to shake off the pesky passenger, hoped eventually he would stir up and move away, giving back his personal space. He better not have drooled all over my suit, or I'd be meeting with my client in jail sooner than anticipated. And we'd be wearing matching outfits.

It's all he could think about as he nudged the man away yet again and absolutely not-so-gently with his patience worn completely thin. "We're landing.", John muttered under his breath when an annoyed look was sent his way, like he was the one being out of line. He brushed off his dark gray pinstripe suit before crossing his arms over his chest, and focused his gaze outside once more, refusing to pay further attention to the crude individual next to him. Deep down, he didn't mind having to fly over to meet with the people he would be representing, he found a certain type of thrill in being up in the sky, had dreamt of becoming a pilot for as long he could remember, but being forced to share such a tight space with others was definitely testing his limits and making him deal with not so pleasant thoughts. "Ladies and gentlemen, our crew welcomes you to Portland. The local time is 10:22 pm. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisles clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight." The man next to him yawned over the voice of the flight attendant, his hand almost smacking John in the face as he went to stretch after his long nap. Don't do anything. Don't say anything. The mantra played on repeat in his mind and he could already imagine himself in his hotel room. The promise of a shower and soft bed was the only thing that got him through the loud clapping from "Naptime Sam" and each slow step that led him off the plane and into the airport. John clutched the strap of his leather bag he always used as carry-on, ignoring the excited chatter around him, his eyes darting from suitcase to suitcase in anticipation of his own finally showing up on the baggage carousel. Just as he spotted it and moved ahead to grab it, a child rushed past, bumping into him in the process. "Ah, I'm so sorry, Mister.", the redheaded girl said quickly, sending a apologetic toothy grin his way as she clutched a small rainbow duffelbag. He waited for the annoyance that usually came from every human interraction to swoop in, instead he ended up returning the smile while he heaved his suitcase off the line and headed for the exit. "Savannah Mae.", the girl breezed past, running towards a sharp dressed woman and grabbing her outstretched hand.

Cool air hit his face as he stepped past the sliding doors of the airport, gaze shifting between the cars parked out front and his phone that for some reason refused to turn on. Goddamn it. I charged you, I know I did. Penny had sent him a message with the details of the driver that was supposed to pick him up, as well as his hotel reservation, and he had no way of accessing either. "Welcome to Portland, sir.", an older gentleman reached for his luggage, and he breathed out a sigh of relief, telling himself his night was starting to look up. The man hoisted his suitcase into the trunk of the black SUV and swifly jumped into the driver seat, peeling off down the road just as John reached out for the door handle. "What the-" "Mr. Duncan?", a voice came behind him, partly drowned out by the shock that coursed through his body and rooted him to the spot to watch the vehicle disappear out of view and take his suitcase with all his belongings along with it. "Mr. Duncan. I'm sorry I'm late, there was a traffic accident…", John swiveled around, doing his hardest to keep his temper in check. He breathed in deeply, his tone taking a dangerous note and making the man in front of him wince, "What did you say?" "I-I- I'm here to pick you up.", the driver gestured to his own car behind him and forced a smile, "You're Mr. Duncan, correct? You're traveling light." "FUCK.", the word broke free before he could stop it while a hand ran over his face. This isn't happening. No. Not to me. No. "Mr. Duncan?" He opened his eyes again, fingernails digging into his palm, grounding him as he spat out, "I was robbed." The man blinked in surprise, "Robbed? Here? Now? How?" "My suitcase.", he shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh, "My damned suitcase." "Someone stole your luggage?" "Yes.", it was all he could muster, already feeling done with the conversation, with the day itself, with Portland, with the onlookers staring his way, with "Naptime Sam" that chose the moment to walk through the doors.

"Oh my god, I-" John brushed past the driver, throwing his small bag into the backseat and slipping after it with a growl. Shitstorm. Ah, Clive? He watched the man scramble around the front of the vehicle in confusion, the car door slamming shut after him putting a stop to his line of thought. "Mr. Duncan,-" "Do you have a phone charger?", he asked impatiently, making it his priority to figure out which hotel he was supposed to be staying at without having to deal with Penny. Shaky hand reached for the glovebox, pulling out a charging cord and passing it over, "Shouldn't you talk to someone at the airport? Report the theft?" And watch them flail around and tell me I was technically on the street, find a damn loophole so it's not their problem? "Mr. Duncan?" "Drive me to a police station, I don't care which one, uh, I didn't catch your name…", he finally replied as he stared down at the device in his hand, waiting for it to turn on. The screen refused to light up no matter how long it stayed plugged into the car's port, making him release a sigh of defeat. You're dead, aren't you? "Robert. And are you certain, sir?" "Yes." The man nodded, turning the key in the ignition, "May I ask, how did your luggage-" "I don't want to talk about it.", John trained his gaze out of the window, pocketing his phone as the realization that his night was far from over set in. The idea he no change of clothes for his first in-person visit with Mooney in the morning and was probably going to get no rest before it, felt like the final straw. And knowing his luck since being handed over his newest case, he was about to deal with an incompetent police officer next.

The scenery outside passed in a blur, making him zone out while fatigue fough to take over his body. No matter how many hurdles life threw his way, he refused to give up, promising himself he was going to win the court battle, prove Clive he had made the right choice by naming him partner at "Westbrook, Harrison and Jones". "and Duncan", now. Robert cleared his throat to draw his attention, announcing, "We're here, sir." "Thank you.", John muttered as his fingers wrapped around the door handle, the man's next words giving him a pause. "I won't be able to wait around… I have another pick-up arranged and it's on the other side of town. Would you be okay on your own?" "Sure.", he would have been lying if he was to say had expected anything else as outcome. "Have a good night, Mr. Duncan.", Robert called out and drove off, leaving him in front of an off-white building, the silver letters above its entrance spelling "City of Portland Police Bureau" confirming he was at least at the right place. He muttered a silent prayer as he pushed past a set of double glass doors and stepped inside the precinct. One win. Give me one win tonight. No more tests. No run-ins with inadequate officers of the law.

He took in the beige and dark blue interior, noting the dead quiet ruling over the lobby as the doors shut behind him. His feet carried him over to the front desk, the human shaped silhouette behind its protective glass giving him hope despite the lack of greeting upon his entry. Any hope he harbored died a horrible death the second he reached it, and an unmistakable muffled snore carried over from the officer that was reclining back in his chair. "Excuse me,", John gritted out, frowning at his name tag, "Officer Bradley.", but the curt words failed to wake the man up. "Excuse me.", he tried again, louder this time around, yet the officer was as unresponsive as his phone. Just when his hand rose, ready to bang against the glass in another attempt to grab his attention, quick footsteps sounded behind him followed by a melodic voice calling out a simple, "Hello." that made him spin around. His narrowed gaze was met by the most expresive pair of hazel eyes he had ever seen, and he blamed the exhaustion for how they almost knocked the wind out of him for second. A wave of familiarity washed over his system as he scanned the woman standing in front of him, his baby blues running over the gray streaks framing her face then down to the freckles scattered across her nose until they stopped at her lips just as they parted, "Can I-" You... Detective Donovan.

He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or curse at fate and its idea for a joke. He'd read over the information on potential witnesses for the upcoming trial for weeks, had stared at her picture enough times to memorize her features, yet the grainy image he was presented with paled in comparison to seeing her in person. He'd expected to meet the detective in court, looked forward to it, in fact, especially after everything her personnel file had revealed. He wasn't supposed to come face to face with her when he was having an unarguably awful night and on the verge of cracking. Close to grabbing one of the lovely chairs you have for visitors and throwing it at your welcome desk. Because I'm not feeling very welcomed, currently. "Your colleague is sleeping on the job.", John interrupted whatever she was about to ask him, but her smile didn't waiver at his sharp tone and the demeaning way he had used the word "colleague". Like Bradley was beneath him. And she was too, just by assosiation. If it wasn't for the spark of defiance in her eyes, he would have guessed she was completely unbothered. "It's the first quiet night we've had in a long while, Mr-" "Duncan." Anticipation coursed through his system as he waited for her to say his name back, and he refused to think too much about what her presence alone was doing to him. How it was threatening to unravel his already fragile composure. And how much he wanted to hear his name again the second she uttered it out. "Mr. Duncan, what can I help you with?", she continued smoothly, biting down on her lip as she regained him. John crossed his arms, nodding to the messenger bag she had hanging over her shoulder, her attire hinting at the fact she was headed out, "Shouldn't that be Officer Bradley's job? Are you even on the clock?" "He'd point you to a division, just as I would."

His lips quirked up at her blunt reply, "I've come to report a crime." All he got this time around was a nod. She was expecting him to continue, to give her more than stating the obvious. "I landed at PDX and,", he paused, hating the idea he had to admit he had fallen victim to such ridiculous con, "a man blindsided me by pretending to be my driver and stole my luggage." "That's-" "Awful?" He was too keen on how he was drinking in every little mannerism she displayed, like how she pursed her lips in displeasure at the news, before saying, "Follow me." "And what about your colleague?", he remarked as he fell into step behind her. His gaze was drawn in by the belt of her black oversized coat tied in a loose bow swaying with every movement she made, and he couldn't help but scowl at how her body was almost completely covered by the garment and then at himself for even entertaining the thought, when he had more important matters to deal with. "Lenny's wife just gave birth recently.", she explained quietly, "Letting him catch some rest is the least I can do." A bleeding heart. It's what you have, Detective. On paper and in person.

Detective Donovan led him down a long hallway, moving past multiple doors that seemed to open up to offices for different divisions until she came to a halt and knocked on a door marked with "Robbery". Seconds passed without a reply from the other side, instead of rapping again, she grabbed the door handle and pushed it open, revealing a series of empty desks. Of course. She turned around with an apologetic look, "I think they're out on a case." John raised an eyebrow, "All of them?" "Understaffed. It's what happens when you get people retiring and on sick leave all at once." He exhaled in frustration, but aside from that kept his silence. "I can check who is on duty and call them…" "And you?", he ignored her suggestion, suspecting he wouldn't get anywhere at that late hour, especially with an offence that would be considered "low priority" in comparison to other cases. "Me?" "You didn't tell me your name or division." Another smile. He was becoming addicted to those. Why didn't you smile in your photo, Detective? That right there, is a robbery on its own. Then, a hand was offered to him, and he wasted no time, enveloping it in his. "Sabrina Donovan. I'm a Detective at Missing Persons. So I fear I won't be of much help with your case, Mr. Duncan." The handshake was getting past the line of socially acceptable, but he couldn't bring himself to let go, "I see, tracking down missing belongings isn't really among your duties."

Sabrina pulled her hand out of his grasp, walking into the office ahead of them and aiming for a large bulletin board at the far end. Her index finger traced over a sheet of paper pinned there before she was on the move again. "Give me a second.", she said as she stopped at the desks, picking up the phone receiver and dialing whoever was supposed to be reachable from the team. "Stockton. You or any of the others planning on heading back soon?", she was back to chewing on her lip while she listened to the man on the other end of the line, "And some kind of ETA for me?", there was a pause, "At PDX. A suitcase. No, and no as far as I'm aware. Vic came straight to the precinct." After what felt like forever where she listened intently about his potential options, she wrapped up the phone call with a quick thank you and walked back to where John was leaning against the door. Her face told it all - she wasn't bearing exceptionally good news. "They're unsure when they would be back, but a couple of hours at the very least." His eyes darted to his watch, "It's almost midnight." Sabrina winced, "I know. The suggestion was you either wait up for them here, return in the morning or-" "Or what, Detective?" "I can jot down notes for them, anything you can provide right now, take down the report and pass it along, to get your case moving as soon as possible…" He frowned, "Basically, do their job for them and deal with something below your paygrade? Weren't you headed home?" He hadn't missed the way she had avoided his question prior, how she had stayed behind when she appeared to be leaving in the first place.

"Won't be my first time of working overtime or helping a fellow detective. The sooner we have an official case started, the quicker they can locate the guy. I'm sure after flying, the last thing on your mind would be to sit around at a police station for hours, when you could be getting some rest." It was obvious she was prioritizing his wellbeing and that of the front desk officer before her own, and knowing her records by heart at that point, he suspected she wouldn't give up on the idea easily, so all he could do was agree, "Okay." She pushed past him at that, her scent teasing him at the closeness in the doorway and haunting his senses as he followed her further into the building and towards an elevator. "We're on the second floor.", Sabrina stated and pressed the call button, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The doors opened promptly with a ding, and they both stepped on, the ride feeling disappointingly short for his liking. "I suspect my stolen suitcase wouldn't be much of a priority?", John guessed as she followed a similar path to the one on the first floor. "I didn't say that." "But simple larceny wouldn't be as serious as whatever case the on duty officers are following at that time of the day." "Ah, I'm not really at liberty to discuss that." "Naturally."

"And you, Mr. Duncan?" "Me?", he mimicked her earlier question. "What do you do for a living?" He could sense even the smallest amount of curiosity in her words, making him smirk, "I'm a defense attorney." She laughed, and he couldn't decide which was better - her smiles or her laughter, "That explains it. And judging by your attire, well, would have been my first guess." "Oh? Should I feel offended?" He was flirting. With, no doubt, a future witness. Clive would ask what had taken over him and why he'd even entertain things further. Good thing he's not here. And I'm not really someone to do things by the book. "No.", she shrugged as she stopped in front of her own division's sector, "You certainly have that aura about you." With that, she pushed the door, open, drawing the attention of a fellow detective inside. "Rina,", the man called out, "Didn't you go home already? Should I push you out the door?" "Ollie. Behave." The man's eyes stopped on John finally, noticing his appearance for the first time as he moved his feet off his desk, "Do we have a case?" "No, no, I'm doing Stockton a tiny favor." "Again?" The word piqued his interest, same for the strange looks "Ollie" kept sending his way. "Don't start, Oliver."

John paid the man no mind and took a seat in one of the chairs across Sabrina's desk as she removed her coat until she was down to a simple gray shirt that was unbuttoned halfway to reveal a dark turtleneck underneat it. His eyes shifted from her to her work space, noting how tidy it was, especially compared to her colleague's, and had a couple of framed pictures he wished he could see. "Fine. But you know, Leslie wouldn't be that easy to silence in voicing his concerns." She ignored the warning, gaze moving back to John's, "Name." "John Duncan." He noticed how she silently mouthed his name as she typed it, and doubted it was a habit she was aware of. The next minutes consisted of marking down his basic information, and he loathed having to recall the slip up, how he had fallen for such a silly trap, especially when he was anything but incompetent. "It's good you remember a partial plate. That, paired with the car's description, and, the fact, PDX would no doubt have footage of the incident…" "You're confident they'd find my belongings." "The perp, most likely. Belongings, I can't say. At least, the things of most value." Oliver walked over, placing a cup in front of Sabrina before leaning in closer to whisper something that caused her to giggle and mutter a quiet, "Stop it, Ollie. Absolutely not." She cleared her throat as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and took a sip of coffee when the man wandered back to his own desk, "Would you like a coffee, Mr. Duncan?" She was yet to say his first name, and he wondered how it would sound coming from her, if she would utter it out as playfully as she did Oliver's. Doubtful. "No, thank you." "Well, I think I have everything noted down. If you don't have any further questions for me…"

She was wrapping things up, sending him on his way, putting an end to whatever time he had in her presence. Then it hit him, "Can I ask to make a phone call?" "You're not under arrest, Mister.", Oliver remarked jokingly. He ignored the jab, his focus remaining completely on the woman in front of him, "My phone died, and I have no idea which hotel my reservation has been made at…" "Ah, I see.", Sabrina reached for her bag, pulling out her phone and passed it over to him after she unlocked it. At the same time he produced the little folded post-it note Penny had crammed into his pocket that morning, trying his hardest to hide the ruby red lipstick stain on it out of Sabrina's view. Her homescreen wallpaper gave him a pause. It was a candid picture of a familiar looking redheaded girl, Sabrina and a man that- What in the- If I squint I can almost convince myself he looks like me, Detective. He doubted she'd appreciate the observation, yet his curiosity about the man's identity and relation to her only festered while he punched in Penny's number. Just as he was starting to wonder if she would pick up, her voice came through, and he rushed to quickly get the needed information, trying to keep the interraction as short as possible. Sabrina pushed a notepad towards him, together with a pen to note down the address, Penny was relying in an overly excited manner despite the fact he had called her for assistance at almost 3 am. "Thank you, Penny. Have a good night.", he muttered flatly and hung up, returning the phone to Sabrina. "She must be worried." Are you fishing for information? "She's not my girlfriend, just an assistant at my firm.", he blinked at the confession that he had blurted out, despising the fact Oliver was there to witness his slip-up and laugh at it. My firm? "I, um, I wasn't really-", Sabrina shook her head, deciding against whatever she was about to say, "I sent over the report to Detective Stockton, he will be in touch soon. I will note down your hotel information since you're having phone issues, so he'd be able to call there and get a hold of you through reception for the time being…" "Thank you."

She rose up, quickly gathering her things and putting her coat back on now that she had sorted out his report, "I will see you out then." John followed suit, exiting into the hallway first as she announced to Oliver, "I'm heading home for real this time, Ollie. You better not snitch to Leslie." "We shall see about that.", he hollered back, "Good night to both of you." As they made their way down to the lobby, Officer Bradley was finally awake and staring at John with a similar to Oliver's expression, "Staying late again, Rina?" Sabrina only laughed as she passed his post, "Bye, Lenny. Hope things stay quiet." She pushed open the doors before John could do it, wrapping her hands around herself as they stepped out into the chilly night. "Thank you again.", his voice was even, perfectly hiding the disappointment he felt on the inside because they were parting ways. "Of course." He expected her to leave at that, especially with the hint of awkwardness that remained in the air after he had mentioned Penny. Seconds passed by in silence where he clutched his only bag and wondered if she'd look at him the same way and be so eager to help him if she knew he was representing one of the most hated men in Oregon. Someone she herself had a run-in with. You wouldn't, would you? You'd probably curse at me. Call what happened to me premature karma.

Instead of wishing him a cheery goodbye and leaving him to his own devices to watch her disappear like the car of the man that had stolen from him, Sabrina gave him another small smile as she stuck her hands in her coat's pockets in an attempt to warm up, "If you don't mind me asking… you do have a way to get to your hotel, right?" John quirked an eyebrow, taking his time to respond and enjoying every moment of where she shifted in place as she waited for him to reassure her he would be alright. It was too bad he wasn't about to do that. Not when it meant she would feel content to head home. Not when the alternative was stealing a few more minutes with her. And he liked his second option more. Field work. You'd call it a "stakeout", wouldn't you? Getting to know my future oppponent. The promising young detective that had apprehended Mooney and was bound to make defending him a challenge. There was no doubt the jury would love her. Feed on her genuity and charm.

"I do not.", he muttered out slowly, watching her face closely, memorizing how the street light above them picked up the gray strands in her hair, "I assumed I could grab a cab, despite my lackluster luck tonight." She nodded along to the idea, but made no move to leave, "You certainly could." John could sense an in, and he took it shamelessly, a step bringing him closer to her until her sweet scent invaded him again, "Were you about to suggest something else?" Cross the line. Offer your help again. "I-", a shake of her head cut off her words as she frowned. She was putting up a wall once more, guarding her thoughts just like she had on his oversharing about Penny. "Yes?", his hand reached out to tuck a piece of her hair that the wind had picked up behind her ear, voice growing huskier when he added, "Tell me." Her breath hitched the second his fingers grazed her cheek, probably feeling the same current that passed over his skin at the contact and still clutched him even when his arm dropped by his side. Sabrina blinked away the haze they seemed to be sharing, "I was going to offer you a ride, Mr. Duncan." "John. Call me John, Sabrina." Something flashed across her face at his correction, "Hm?" "It's my name after all." It was as if all the background noise ceased to exist as he waited for her lips to form the word and he suspected even if the detective he was supposed to wait on or the criminal himself that had wronged him showed up right there and then, he wouldn't care. She was the sole holder of his attention. "I was going to offer you a ride,", she paused, "John. But I'm not-" "Yes.", the word rushed out, cutting off whatever excuse she was about to make about it being a bad idea, probably thinking of the grinning man on her homescreen. Doesn't matter who he is, Detective. I can recognize interest when I see it. And damn, if I don't want to hear you say my name again. His eagerness seemed to be obvious and… amusing to her, "You sure?" "Are you planning on driving off with my carry-on, Sabrina?" "Cross my heart. I won't.", she gestured to the street behind her, hiking her bag further up her shoulder, "I'm parked over there." A smirk appeared at the fact he was winning, "Lead the way then, before you freeze."

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strafethesesinners @strangefable @voidika @aceghosts @nightbloodbix @madparadoxum @jillvalentinesday @euryalex @corvosattano @poisonedtruth @purplehairsecretlair @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @cassietrn @chazz-anova @clicheantagonist @dumbassdep @thesingularityseries @theelderhazelnut @florbelles @simplegenius042 @shegetsburned @v0idbuggy and anyone that would like to share a little something this week

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 12: Fashionably Late

Fandom: Inception

Pairing: Robert Fischer x OC

Summary: They need to get ready soon, unless they want to be late.

Word Count: 1,474  

Notes: Warnings for depictions of sexual content.

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“Which one for tonight?” Robert emerged from the door of the walk in closet, a hanger dangling from each hand. He was quite a sight, standing there in just his boxers, hair all ruffled with two extremely expensive suits in each hand. Alice sat up from where she had been lounging in the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him. The collar of Robert’s t-shirt, an old, incredibly worn one that she was pretty sure was from back when he was in college, slipped precariously off one of her shoulders at her movement. She eyed the suits and oh, it was incredibly unfair of him to make her choose between those two in particular. 

The first was a lovely dark pinstripe. It made him look sleek and powerful. And the warm hued maroon or purple ties he often paired with it brought out the warm tones of his hair. She narrowed her eyes, head tilted to the side as she tried to remember the last time she had seen him wear it. Was it that trip they had taken to Japan a few months ago? Yes, that seemed right. He had worn it on the plane only to strip the jacket off halfway through the flight, smirking at her when he caught her practically drooling over the white button down, tie, and suspenders he had been sporting underneath.

The second suit was charcoal gray, double breasted, and did a lovely job of hugging the trim, lean lines of his body. Robert often wore it paired with the light blue tie that brought out the piercing color of his eyes. Alice had a pretty, lacy blue dress she could wear that would match it nicely. 

The last time she had seen that suit, it had been crumpled up in a heap on the floor of their hotel room in France, her head thrown back in pleasure while Robert thrusted frantically into her on the massive king sized bed. 

Whatever suit she picked, she was thoroughly doomed to spend the better part of the evening wanting to climb him like a tree.

“The charcoal one,” she said finally. Robert smirked, turning to hang the pinstripe suit back in the closet, setting the double breasted charcoal one down on the chair. “And wear the light blue tie with it?” she leaned back and stretched, not missing the way his eyes raked over the strip of bare abdomen that was revealed when his shirt rode up at her movements. 

“Of course.”

She kicked the blankets away, moving to get out of bed, but he had already moved to stand in front of her, hands sliding through her hair before he caressed her jaw and tilted her head up to kiss her. Alice sighed happily against his lips, allowing her hands to frame his hips and draw him in closer to her. His chest was warm when it pressed against her, the scent of his cologne all around her. Lips parted from each other only for him to earnestly pepper kisses over her jaw and neck before he stopped, allowing his head to rest with his face buried in her neck for a moment before he sighed.

“If we don’t get dressed now, we’ll be late,” it was already late afternoon, and they had to get ready and then drive all the way across town to where the gala venue was. 

“Mmhm,” but she made no move to get up or push him away, only stroking her fingers through his soft hair, leaning closer when his thumb began to rub circles into the bare skin of her hip. Robert’s breath was warm against her shoulder. Alice pecked a kiss to the side of his head and he whined, borrowing closer against her.

“I don’t want to go,” he leaned back and pouted at her. She laughed, tracing her thumb over his bottom lip. 

“I’ll fake a headache or something a few hours in, insist that you take me home,” it wouldn’t be the first time one of them had faked an illness to get out of a boring business gala. He nuzzled closer to her, those beautiful piercing eyes so soft and adoring that it made her heart ache.

“You’re my favorite,” he insisted, kissing her shoulder and peering up at her sweetly. “What?”

Alice shook her head and smiled. “Nothing. You’re pretty,” she leaned in to press a kiss to his nose. “And you’re my favorite too.” 

The little blush that spread over his cheeks was incredibly cute. Warm fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. “I like you in my clothes.”

She didn’t have time to really process the slight growl in his voice before he was kissing her again, and then his mouth was pressed back to her neck, kissing there softly, and then more roughly, hands beginning to push up the t-shirt covering her body.

“Robbie,” she breathed out warningly, pleadingly, even as she arched her back and let him crawl over her, pressing her firmly into the mattress. “Sweetheart, we’re going to be late,” she giggled as his lips ticked the sensitive skin of her shoulder, his palms warm as they smoothed against her sides.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled back. Snorting, she wound her arms around him, his body slotting perfectly between her legs, warm. His mouth found hers again hungrily, shirt half pushed up her body, hands rubbing up and down before squeezing at her waist.

“Honey, we really should get ready…” she mumbled, even as her legs lifted to wrap around his hips and pull him closer, moaning as she felt the beginnings of an erection already growing in his boxers. “Okay. Okay, seriously,” she laughed as she pulled back. “Stop. We’ve got to get ready.”

He pulled back from her immediately, rolling off to lay on his side next to her on the bed, head half propped up with one hand.

“You’re right,” he said, fingertips reaching out to stroke her cheek. 

“What?” she asked, head cocking. It wasn’t like he was normally excited to go to galas, but he didn’t usually drag his feet or pout as intently as he was this time. 

“Nothing. I just…” he sighed, rolling over to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wish that we didn’t have to worry about any of this.”

“What? The company?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, forearm resting upon his head. “There are times where I wonder what it would be like if we just, I don’t know…” he trailed off, biting his lip. Alice rested her palm on the center of his chest.

“Ran away together?”

He laughed, softly. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“I don’t think that there’s anywhere we could go where Maurice wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

“But…if you ever wanted to give running away a shot…” she smiled gently, “I’d go with you.”

The back of his hand stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

She kissed the center of his palm. “I love you too.”

His thumb petted her bottom lip, before he huffed and pulled away, standing and going over to the suit he’d had her pick out, resigning himself to preparing for the dreaded event. Alice stared at his pale back; the light freckles dusting across his skin, lean muscles moving in his shoulders as he started to fumble with the suit. Swinging her legs off the bed, she rose quietly and padded over to him, arms wrapping around his waist while she kissed one of his shoulder blades.

“Look at me,” she said, quietly, turning him around to face her. Robert’s baby blue eyes blinked at her owlishly as she stretched up on her toes and kissed him. “I know work’s been hard, lately,” she told him, feeling the knots in his shoulders as her fingers ran along his back. “It’ll be okay.”

“Mm,” he swallowed hard, nodding as his head dropped to nuzzle at her. “Thanks, Al.”

“Mhm,” she stroked his hair, pressing her lips to his cheek, then his jaw, down his neck.

“What’re you doing?” he asked with a small laugh as her hands ran over his naked chest. Alice just hummed against his pale throat.

“Nothing,” she purred innocently.

“Uh huh,” he chuckled, hands landing on her hips while she began to suck his neck. Using the tip of a finger, he tilted her chin up, kissing her deeply once her head was angled upwards. He moaned softly against her lips as she pressed closer, palms spread out over his chest. And then his hands were on her ass, gripping her tight and hoisting her up onto his hips, carrying her back towards the bed without even breaking the kiss.

In the end, they were very, very late getting to the gala. 

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[janeyre]

call me on the way home (2/2)

otp: tentoo x rose

word count: 5k

summary: After a slight mishap at Torchwood, Rose has gone temporarily missing. While Mia is out, she runs into her mum, but not as she last saw her - instead wearing a blue leather jacket with deep circles beneath her eyes. Worried about her mum's state and trying to comfort her, Mia calls the Doctor so Rose can speak to him.

AO3

It had been three weeks since Rose Tyler’s unexpected tumble through a far-away dream, and now she found herself towing the Earth home.

She had done it. 

Her gaze, as it swept over all the many happy faces bobbing in and out of her view, landed not on the pinstriped Doctor, but on the blue Doctor. Catching her gaze, he winked at her and clicked his teeth.

God, it was really him . Her face was going to split open from smiling so hard.

“Thinking about what adventures we’ll have next, Rose Tyler?” He said her name in that way that only he could.

Something once-blurry came suddenly into blinding focus. That picture of her and the Doctor and their daughter. Sharing a life — normal and yet not all at once. The text that said Grandma Jackie. The one adventure he could never have. The one adventure she never let herself fully believe she’d be able to find again.

Her gaze returned to his. Did he know? Did he know what could be waiting for them?

She wanted it so bad she couldn’t breathe . The voice she’d heard on the phone that day…. 

You are my heart. 

Singular.

She grinned at him. 

Do you know what I’m trying to tell you?

She wanted to kiss him, snog the living daylights out of him right here in front of everyone until they all went home and left them to their peace. 

Of course I do. 

The Doctor took a deep breath. “You told me something. Something I don’t take lightly. And I want, need you to know, that… you’re everything to me. You have given me happiness more infinite than I could have ever dreamed of. You are the centre of my universe. You are my heart. I… I care for you more than I can say. Do –” he felt suddenly worried, worried that this opportunity might be lost, that she wouldn’t know, that she was doomed to suffer this next month in the dark, that she had never known until that second time on the beach; not at the Game Station, or Krop Tor, or— “Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

He held his phone tightly in his hand; if he would have looked at his knuckles he would have found them white.

“Yes, Doctor. Of course I do, I do too, I–”

Her voice was suddenly cut off, marked by the sound of a harsh smack . 

“Rose? Rose?!”

Some rustling. His heart thundered. 

Mia’s voice. “She disappeared, Dad.”

His head was full of static. His thoughts were rushing and all he could hear was the crash of a wave just about to take him under. 

Of course I do. I do too, she had said.

He let out a breath, devastated and relieved as realisation struck him like lightning to the head of a pin.

Oh.

Oh. 

She knows. 

He blinked furiously.

“Dad?” 

He cleared his throat. His beautiful, wonderful, brilliant daughter.

“Thank you for thinking to call, you brilliant, clever girl. Do you want to meet back here, at Torchwood, and then we can both go home?”

“Yeah, that would be good.” She swallowed, somewhat shaken. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not if I see you first.” He missed Rose. “I love you, Mia.”

He wasn’t mistaken if he thought she sounded a little choked up too. 

“I love you, Dad.” The line clicked.

He let the phone fall from his hands and clatter to the table, eyes wet and growing wetter. He scrubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes and then let them rest there, sitting his elbows on the table.

The events of the day flickered behind his eyelids like a thousand different film reels all playing at once. 

Finding out this afternoon that Rose had been teleported somewhere and rushing to Torchwood. Watching in frustration as everyone realised that she couldn’t have gone far and leaving him to figure it out. His wife was missing. Hearing her sob on the other end of the phone. Knowing that even though she would be fine, there was nothing he could do now. No possible way on Earth to be with her at this very moment. No matter how his heart ached. No matter how much he couldn’t fight the panic that grew when she was gone. No matter where she was.  

“What are you doing in ‘ere all alone?”

Her voice. His head snapped up. 

“Rose?”

It really was her. Back from the aether. Beautiful and perfect and not a hair out of place and smiling at him with that fondness she reserved only for him. 

“Rose.”

He was in her arms before he’d even realised he’d pushed away from the table, trying to regulate his breathing but finding himself overwhelmed at the feel of her familiar embrace. It’s only been a few hours , he chided himself.

“Doctor, is everything okay?”

He couldn’t help himself from sniffling a little, burying his head further into her shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day.” 

“Want to tell me about it?”

He nodded into her shoulder and took a deep breath before backing away to meet her gaze. God, but she was beautiful. Her every feature radiated safety, warmth, comfort. 

“Today was the day that you jumped here and met Mia before you really properly found me. Before we ended up here together. I just got off the phone with you.” 

Her eyes were wide. 

“Oh, Doctor, I’m sorry. I… I wish I could have been here, with you.”

He laughed in spite of himself. “Funny, that’s just what I told you.” He couldn’t help it – he gathered her into a hug again, just to feel her so close to him.

“It was so long ago, but that old fear that had followed me around during our time apart that you didn’t know that I – that I loved you, it came crashing back. All I could think was how guilty I felt for leaving you to carry the weight of every universe on your shoulders all alone.” His words were slightly muffled as he spoke them into her jacket.

“But you didn’t leave me,” she reminded him. “You’re right here. And I knew, Doctor. We’ve talked about this. I’ve always known, okay? Always.” She twisted her head so she could kiss just above his ear. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He laughed again. Being hard on himself was one of his oldest strengths. “For you, I’ll try.” He took in a deep breath, then righted himself once more. “Where did you end up today, anyways?”

“You would not believe – Brixton! Brixton, and I didn’t have my wallet or my phone on me or anything.”

“How’d you get back?”

“I walked – I wasn’t that far away from the Estate Mum and I used to live on, so I made a little detour to see if it had changed in all these years. Wasn’t so far anyway, and less hassle than trying to borrow someone’s phone. Although I would have tried, if I would have realised it was going to be such a traumatic day.”

“Mum!” 

Rose whirled around just in time to see Mia rush into the room. In an instant she was in her mother’s arms, properly this time. Her tears flowed freely.

“I’m so glad it’s you, I thought I saw you earlier, and it was you, but you didn’t even know me, and you were so sad, and I didn’t know what to do.” 

Rose shifted a little, just enough that she could look her daughter in the eyes. She brought one hand up to cup her face, wiping away the fat tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“But you did so well, Mia. You were so brave. It takes a lot of courage to power through something like that when everything seems so wrong. But you were incredible. Okay?” Mia nodded softly, offering a tentative smile.

Rose’s voice grew softer, lower. “I thought about your face and the conversation I had with your dad every day until I came back. You gave me a light at the end of the tunnel. And I focused on it and fought for it until I found it. You’re the best daughter I could ever have.”

Mia’s face, previously recovering, broke down into tears again. 

“I missed you, Mum.” 

Rose’s heart broke a little. She brought her daughter close and felt it mend. 

“I missed you too, precious girl.” 

She felt the Doctor’s arms close around the both of them. Her family. The picture they’d taken last week at her birthday. The memory of the phone call she’d had had faded with time, the fear of future knowledge spoiling her present pushing it away until it really did feel like a dream. 

She took a deep breath. She could smell the Doctor’s familiar scent, same as ever. She could feel his singular, human heart beating against his ribs, pressed against her back. She could feel their precious daughter hugging her tight. 

I am so lucky being able to talk to you right now, to tell you that it’s all going to be okay. Because it is. 

She blew out her deep breath and smiled ear to ear. 

Everything was okay.

[5mind]

Damn Thursday for stealing her idea. Now Doom has to come up with a different idea. Now she has to go big or go home. How is she gonna make Blue blush otherwise? Especially since Blue is a mechanical being and effectively can't blush. She's gotta do something really big and loud to make sure she really gets the android's fans a-going.

So, Doom thinks about all the things she knows about Blue, which... is pitifully little, when she really thinks about it. But she's still able to piece together enough, she thinks. She hopes.

Because the next time Doom meets up with Blue, she's dressed quite differently. Gone is the three-piece black suit with the silver pinstripes. In its place is a skin-tight black bunny suit, one that's very shiny, almost to the point of being reflective, complete with a fluffy bunny tail and ears. Black fishnets cover her arms and legs, and she has a white skull painted over her face, with black areas filled in around the eyes and in segments around the lips to complete the whole look. She hasn't forgone her big black ass-kicking boots, though. No, she'd rather die again than give those up, so they're a bit at odds with the rest of her outfit, but shit if she cares.

Admittedly, Doom feels terribly exposed and uncomfortable in it. But hey, if it gets Blue's attention and - most importantly - gets her heat up, that's what wins her the game here.

"Hey, Blue! What's up? Nice day," she says, casually crunching on a carrot like Bugs Bunny might. "We should go fight some crime. Cause an explosion or two. Maybe ruin some bad guy's day, ehehehe. Or, you know, we could just hang out and shoot some shit. Whatever you want. Either way, hi."

(Forrrrr the fluster me. xD)

@the-haunted-office

Try  to  fluster  my  muse.  Do  whatever  it  takes  to  make  them  blush!

Total silence greeted Doomsday right up until she spoke up first. Blue Two tilted her head owlishly. This was...an unusual get up for Doomsday.

Not that it was bad, no. Between the fishnets, the boots, the skin tight suit and the face make-up, it reminded them of the type of thing they'd have sentai villainesses wear to appeal to the older periphery demographic.

So yes, Fivemind could appreciate that. And they could appreciate a suit that's shiny. It was mostly on an aesthetic level though.

But really, the question here was why? Was there an occasion? Some form of new dress code at the Office?

"Hello. It is a nice day, yes." The usual monotone... but wait! What's this? It seemed like Blue just purposefully pried her gaze away from Doomsday's direction. Oh, yeah. The AI had realised that, through the blue ranger's optics, they had been staring. And staring was rude.

There's a soft metallic scraping noise as the android fidgetted with her hands.

"Was there a convention of some sort?"

[selitoxicmoon]

Yeah, even though it sucks that the AU is cancelled for now, i'm glad that my asks got answered. Besides the main gangs, who're the main villains in your AU and are Cortex & Malefor still around?

That my friend is the most cooking part I'm excited to show a lot of dark vibes on it (bc this AU is +18)

You see, N-Sane Kingdom is a mix city between the world of Spyro, Skylanders and Crash Bandicoot. Where yes! The Skylanders and it's characters and species are there! Some villains of those three worlds got redeemed while others still planning the bad in the shadows.

As this is a modern like ambience, Malefor and Cortex have their own independent mafias, including Kaos dad (Eon's brother). Malefor is mostly the mega boss of everything that gave an alliance contract to Cortex for their mafias to join for power, then Eon's brother would join as he's very powerful in dark magic. Cortex is threatened to do so by N tropy as he is part of his mafia, plus they need money to still up in their lives.

Cortex agrees and call Pinstripe for a rehiring and explain the plan even if he was retired (but his gang of potoroos were starving and living in awful circumstances so he had to agree).

Malefor's mafia is formed as being Malefor the main boss, while the rest of it's sector (which controls different armies) are Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto, the Enchantress, Red and Malefor's personal body guard, the Ice King.

Cortex's mafia meanwhile there's N-Tropy, N-Gin, N-Brio, Pinstripe and Uka Uka. They're few but they've got minions and the power of multiverses and technology.

Then there's Strykore (Eon's brother and Kaos dad), after Kaos and Kaossandra be redeemed, he got total control on all skylands villains and criminals as the dark master, he's a big friend of Malefor. Strykore, have the power of corruption which is why their mission is to corrupt the city and it's civilians/heroes upon dark magic. Strykore gang are basically the Doom Raiders plus more! Even tho he can create many monsters as he wishes.

Summary, they work in the shadows and they will attack/strike the right moment when our heroes are off guard (the consequences are not funny at all like, it's mafia, you can wait ANYTHING from them).

[jigglypuff1994]

The Devil Wears Gabriel - Chapter 16

A female radio host with a thick, Midatlantic accent sounded from the old-school static radio. "This is Nadja Chamack, coming live to you from Paris Radio Station. I'm gonna drop a dime, folks! We've got a jam at the Theatre des Champs-Elysees. Another akuma goon is throwin' an ing-bing. Don't get the eagers now! I'm sure the big cheeses are on their way to rough 'em up! Stay safe. Stay inside. Tune in for more news here on PRS." The radio clicked, leaving a static sound blaring in and out of the speakers. 

Marinette groaned, "Lukaaaaa." Her face half pressed into her pillow, facing him. Her mind lingering between the real world and dreamworld. Sleepily with a raspy voice, she asked, "Can you turn down your phone? I'm trying to sleep." 

Viperion chuckled, looking over Marinette's form. He shook her awake, nudging her with light pressure. "Mari." 

Marinette grumbled into her pillow and nudged him away. Turning her head, she shot him a dirty look in the dark before nuzzling back into her pillow trying to go back to dreamland before the impending doom of her career came to an abrupt end. 

Viperion shook his head staring down at his girlfriend and swiped his hand over his face. As he came up with an idea, a cartoonish lightbulb lit up above his head. He snapped his fingers, exclaiming, "Hot Dog!" Happy with himself, he walked over to the lamp on her bedside table and turned it on.

A bright light shone into her face, causing her to grimace. This made for an even grumpier Marinette. Opening her eyes, she grabbed his pillow, aiming at him to throw when... Hold the line - something wasn't quite right with his normal snake outfit. She did a double take on him, blinking the sleepiness from her eyes. His hair was slicked back under a boater's hat with a ribbon lining. He wore a pinstripe suit, vest and pants, with a bowtie and long sleeve button up shirt. Wingtip shoes in place of his teal, flat shoes.

And - Horsefeathers! Are those shoe spats? Not even her traditionalist 'that's not how it's done' grandfather would wear those! Those were popular a hundred years ago! 

Finally, to put it all together, a shimmering, metallic mask sat around his eyes. It was strange how she could see his full mask now that his bangs had been pushed back. The small change accentuated the slit pupils in his eyes. 

She had so many questions. Nothing but an akuma could possibly explain why her boyfriend became Harold Hill from The Music Man. 

When Marinette fully came to after a moment, her eyes bugged out of her head as she took in the sight around her. Everything was in black and white, including them! She shivered, covering her arms as she felt a cold Spring breeze run through her. There's something off about the whole situation. 

Marinette glanced around the room. Anything modern-day had been replaced with nineteen twenties decor and equipment. Instead of her normal cellphone on her bedside table, she saw a rotary phone. Their pictures had been replaced with various black and white old-timey sitting photos of the couple, friends and family. The dressers now made of unpainted, real wood instead of the faux wood exterior. The bedframe had a brass and iron detailing which was not there before. The black out curtains framing the doors to the balcony now were embroidered with little birds and flowers. 

"This is balled up!" She spoke aloud, covering her mouth immediately after. "What did I just say?" A heavy MidAtlantic accent sounded from her which took her aback. Looking on the wall, she noted the time on the clock was 449. Only a couple of hours before she was going to be up. She leapt up from bed. "Applesauce! These akuma goons!" She cried. Maybe Hawkmoth wasn't a night owl, but he was a punk! 

Viperion yelled back from the living room. A tinge of annoyance in his voice. "C'mon, Mare! Transform! Let's blouse!" He leapt out the balcony and headed toward the akuma without delay. 

"I'm not a dewdropper! I'm coming!" Marinette huffed. "Tikki, spots on!" Looking down at her outfit, she had become another member of the early 20th century.

Staring at her feet, she noticed her shoes were two-toned Mary janes. She touched the edging of her flapper style dress, noting the material was chiffon. Gracefully, she ran her gloved hand down her elbow length sleeves. Spots were scattered throughout the dress, and black lace detailing trailed down on the outside of her sleeves, across her hips, and around her collarbone to her neck. A long, black pearl necklace hung around and down her neck past her bosom. With both hands, she touched her head and realized she was wearing a cloche hat. On her nape, even without a mirror, she could tell her hair was neatly styled in a chignon. Finally, she observed that her gloved hands were black with little black buttons along the sides. She ran her finger gently across the buttons on her right thumb. 

"Goofy!" she breathlessly said. Nodding at herself and slowly acknowledging that this was actually reality. Touching her mask, she could feel sequins and little beaded details. 

No, her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. This wasn't a dream. 

Whoever this akuma was must really dig The Great Gatsby era.

On another note, why was the 1974 adaptation better than the 2013 adaptation? Maybe it was the song selection and accompaniments... Jay-Z and Fergie were certainly choices for the 2013 soundtrack. Did they really capture the time period of the Roaring twenties well? She'll have to debate this with Nino sometime; he'd give better insight into what albums and scores made for good movies. 

She exclaimed, "Let's get moving!" Running out to the balcony and tossing her yo-yo in the air toward the theater where the akuma was spotted.

She arrived at the building overlooking the theatre across the street. She examined the team. Everyone seemed to be following the same jazz age dress code. Normally, they all had to be zapped to have an akuma affect them. This one must be exceptionally powerful - better keep her guard up. She didn't want a repeat of the last one. Subconsciously, wringing her hands together, she remembered the throbbing aches in her hands that she gets from time to time. Not sending her magical cure to fix the akuma damages has lasting effects. She knew she took Tikki's magic for granted. 

Viperion and the team were assembled and discussing the akuma - or at least, that's what she thought they were discussing. 

The team were talking amongst themselves, but Viperion and Chat were in a scuffle of their own. Uh-oh! Walking up slowly and silently, Ladybug listened in. 

Viperion's hands were balled into fists. "You know what?! I've been more than patient with you so far." He rattled off his issues, listing them one by one. "I've listened to your pining, your one hundred different nicknames for my girlfriend, your stupid puns, and your pompous attitude for too long. Your infatuation needs to end! You need to let her go."

"Or what?" Chat's relaxed, nonchalant question stirred Viperion's anger. 

"I told you already. You can be replaced. Easily." He spit his words, taking a step closer to Chat. Nose to nose, he threatened.  "Let. Her. Go." 

Chat guffawed, bringing his hands to his cheeks in a mocking way. "Oh, dearie. Whatever shall I do? This is it, folks! Bimbo here is calling the shots. Spread the news! The snake's officially declared before us and the gods that he is the big cheese of the group." He snorted. Challenging V by straightening his shoulders, he boldly said, "Last time I checked, my Lady was in charge. Not you." Poking him in the nose. Gently taunting Viperion as a show of 'what are you going to do about it?' 

"Yeah? Well, we're together, and you can't stand that she's mine. That she chose me." Viperion emphasized. 

Chat shrugged, dusting his shoulders. "She won't be yours for long." Shooting Viperion a knowing look. "I know her. I also know how much better off she'd be with me. I've always known. But now? I mean, can you feel it?" Nothing happened. Chat took a deep breath, facing up to the sky. Exhaling loudly, a large, cocky grin on his face. "The time's finally right! And your days together are numbered." 

-----------Continued on Link-----------

[axlestuck]

Sollux’s pinstripe suit that you made + his god tier outfit

Credit where it's due- the original Sollux pinstripe suit was made by @lepiosprites!

God Tier (Mage of Doom) && Bicolor Pinstripe Suit = The Flashiest Death

[themalwarezoo]

"There you are," comes a voice from the shadows, shortly before Doomsday steps out, dressed up in her favorite black suit with the silver pinstripes, her scythe slung over her shoulder.

"I cut you up once and I'll do it again," she says, her voice low and menacing, eyes glowing brightly. "So you get one chance to tell me - Where is Thisday?"

@the-haunted-office

Polygonz sat at a desk, grey claws tapping the metal on the desk, he looked very bored. And then Doomsday appears, the way his expression goes from bored to excited is shown by a smile, his sharp teeth glimmering with the dim blue led lights that spread through the work-room type room they found themselves in.

The room was pretty odd, the walls had built in shelves and lets not talk about the fact every part of the place was reinforced with metal. The desk at which the virus sat was made of metal, and his chair seemed to be holographic, in a manner so that if he decided it could just disappear.

There was an operating table on the end of the room, which was longer than it was wide. The walls had LED lights built in, thick blue panels covered them and dimming them, there were bright white lights on the ceiling, but they were turned off. On the desk floated a set of holographic monitors and a keyboard, all in red. The displays looked unreadable, but it seemed to be code.

As Polygonz smiled at Doom, it typed something onto the holographic keyboard before pressing "Enter", and the holographic display shut off. It kicked its feet up on the table and pointed up at something on the shelf, which was full of things that shouldn't be outside someone's body.

But the light that didn't dim from the shelf, was one on a heart, beating and alive kept only like that by Polygonz' amusement at seeing dead things move, had a bright white label that read "THISDAY - HAUNTED OFFICE" written in red on the front of it.

"[[Don't Hold Yourself]] to something as insignificant as that." Polygonz laughed out, the visible anger on Doomsday's face being an amusement show to the virus. Before speaking again, Polygonz jumped from the chair, boosting off the metal table with his feet, and over to stand on the operating table.

The room was very tall to accommodate for Polygonz's inhuman height, he stared at the scythe before recreating it as a red hologram, some parts of it looked thicker than the others but that was just for looks, it was physically the same thing as Doom's. "I prefer something more easily weildable, [[This'll do the job!]] though"

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Fourteen: Mr. Pinstripe Suit Pt. 3

 Envy sputtered a bit as they got a face full of a horrified Freddy who scrambled to get back up to give chase since the eldritch family member was being kidnapped. What horrified Freddy most was the fact Dolly couldn’t teleport due to being held onto like so and the fact if Dolly were to do so, that’d be ANOTHER faction wanting Dolly other than the homunculi. There was a lot of profanity dripping from Envy’s mouth as they got up, pissed off and full of anger that slowly was giving way to panic. A blankness overtook Envy’s face as they entered that same sensation back when Greed broke into the apartment. This bastard of a father who abandoned them to the mercy of a monstrous mother just took the one person that Envy ever felt close to. Blood was going to be shed now and it’d be a miracle if Hohenheim’s body was recognizable by the end of it. Grabbing Freddy firmly by the upper arm, Envy started dragging him along to the apartment. Gluttony was going to be needed for tracking and frankly was also going to be needed for body disposal. Hohenheim was going to be doomed to become red stones to eat was strong in Envy’s angered mind. Freddy froze up at the fact he was being dragged along and the fact Envy was angry like that, he wasn’t going to prod the wasp nest. As Envy marched Freddy off to fetch Gluttony, Hohenheim had made his way to the garden tunnel as he kept a tight hold on Dolly for a conversation.

 “You realize that you just committed an act of kidnapping, right?” Dolly asked, remaining calm at the situation as she thought carefully on how to escape.

 “For the greater good I suppose. Now, you’re going to tell me everything about what exactly is going on with Envy. If this is a new disease that creature made, I promise you, it will not end well for anyone.” Hohenheim ran a hand over his face as he kept a dead, calm face about the kidnapping. “It isn’t a disease, Envy has been passing or spacing out a lot, but no diseases.” Dolly answered as she carefully lowered her backpack to the ground. “It can’t be possible, I gave that monster all the memories I had of my beloved son..why would that thing be having memories now?” Hohenheim’s expression started to darken a bit as he ran through any possibilities that could cause it. “Stop calling Envy a monster or a thing, Envy is a person. No wonder Envy has a hard time getting along with people, with a father like you that denies them of being their own offspring, it's no wonder why they behave like that.” Dolly scolded having had enough of the casual cruelty coming from the middle aged man as she made sure that Dorian could go find help.

 “What would you know about the loss I went through!? I held my son when he died from mercury poisoning, I sacrificed my first body just to revive him with alchemy and all I got was this vicious mockery of flesh that spoke with his voice! I left because I couldn’t bear to look at the monster I made and the wretched wife that made everything so much worse. Now tell me, what exactly would you know about how I should act after all that!?” Hohenheim burst out after having long held up the pent up anger and grief from the past centuries and let Dolly go.

 “I knew Envy when they used to be called ‘William’. I knew how they felt about you, how touch deprived they were, how alone they felt, and I remember the look they had when asked about their home life. How dare you even call them your ‘beloved son’ when you barely protected them from that mother, how you just ignored them after passing the toddler phase, and now when they did need you, you called them a monster before the abandonment. Envy wasn’t the problem, it was all on you and how terrible of a parent you were.” Dolly was done entertaining this wretch as she opened the brooch to show that specific eye portrait that was gifted all those centuries ago.

 “You were that girl my son mentioned that night, aren’t you? How are you still around…” Hohenheim was startled to say the least upon encountering an actual immortal being that wasn’t rotting away horrifically. “I have always been that way, I don’t know why, but I have been on this planet for a very long time. To answer your first question, I am the one Envy had likely mentioned about. I know they had only returned to your estate to collect some books before cutting ties with both you and the monster Mom.” Dolly was growing rather annoyed at this point as she got ready to attempt an escape when Dorian arrived.

 “Then why are you not rotting like Dante or myself? I don’t understand how that is even possible, entropy should have happened by now..” Hohenheim was puzzled at the realization immortality was possible. “I don’t know, maybe the universe felt like there were too many assholes for its liking and decided to revoke both of your immortality tokens. Besides, immortality is fucking overrated and depressing.” Dolly snidely remarked, still enraged on Envy’s behalf.

 “No you don’t understand! If I had known about this, I wouldn’t have left my second wife and two younger sons when the rotting started!” Hohenheim tried to explain which only earned him a look of horror from Dolly. “....Sir, if I had known about the fact that not only did you abandon your eldest child, but also your second wife and two youngest sons, I would’ve neutered you at once. How could you be such a reckless parent!? Do you even comprehend the trauma you’ve likely inflicted on two young kids!?” Dolly felt disgust fully and truly for the first time in her long existence, not even Great Uncle Oscar could top this can of worms. “I’m rotting away! I couldn’t bear having them watch me rot away!” Hohenheim pleaded as this was the first time for him to encounter someone else almost like him. “...Are you worried the kids would’ve been like ‘ewww gross you’re all rotted and smelly, you’re no longer our daddy’? No seriously, that is a terrible excuse and you’re clearly having a slower rotting rate as I couldn’t even smell it. You just make excuses to get out of situations you don’t like and blame it all on something else when that doesn’t work. Moment you saw a small sign of decay, you flipped out and left. How fucking selfish are you? No really, just how fucking selfish of a human being are you?” Dolly was just fully mortified at this point as she went to pick up Dorian for comfort.

 “You’re not a human either, how could you even ask me that?” Hohenheim scrambled a bit from the scathing words of an infuriated Dolly. “Sir, I might not be human, but I choose to behave and act as one. Being human isn’t just belonging to that species, it's how you act and treat others.” Dolly shifted a bit as an odd, softly muffled buzzing sound could be heard from Dorian.

 “....What the hell is wrong with your green dog?” Hohenheim glanced at Dorian, seemingly ignoring the message Dolly just gave.

 “He’s a lion and I’m not sure. Dorian, you alright there buddy?” Dolly asked as she noticed that Dorian’s clay muzzle looked rather swollen for some reason.

 Dorian gave no answer as he simply gestured to be lowered to the ground as if nothing was wrong regardless of the kidnapping and being held for questioning. Unsure why Dorian was just gesturing instead of speaking, Dolly lowered Dorian carefully to the ground. Wasting no time to stand about, Dorian made rather good time walking over to Hohenheim on his two awful clay legs of corpse green. An unease filled Hohenheim’s gut as the little green monster motioned for him to lower himself down, somehow this small creature surpassed the homunculi as a purely alchemical abomination. Dorian narrowed his little golden eye orbs as he waited for Hohenheim to do as instructed, doing a bit of a brisk jump in place to get his point across. Reluctantly and full of dread, Hohenheim lowered himself to be at eye level with the horrible little corpse green lion. Dolly started to get a sense of unease at the demeanor Dorian was displaying, unsure what her well adored little clay lion was up to. A swollen smirk played on Dorian’s face as he slowly opened his mouth wide, the angry sound of buzzing echoing from inside. As quickly as the horrified expression on Hohenheim’s face became apparent, an odd oblong object with the color and texture of a brown paper bag flew out of Dorian’s mouth.

[the-haunted-office]

( @systemadministratorclu - Continued from here!)

Doom feels elation run through her. Oh she hasn’t gotten a reaction this good in... well, she doesn’t think she ever has. People around the offices are just too desensitized by the horrors. Either that or they’re turned on by them. Doom isn’t entirely sure she understands, but hey, to each their own. Apparently a lot of folks around the office think decaying flesh and blood is hot; these guys are throwing up. It takes all kinds to make the world turn, doesn’t it? Actually that’s inertia, but she’s not about to have a debate about physics with herself.

“Oh, what, I’m not good enough of a Grim Reaper for ya?” she chides, and then morphs again. This time her pinstripe suit turns into an oversized black cloak and covers everything but her face and hands - which are now skeletal. “That better? Doesn’t matter what I look like, but if this provides some sense of comfort to you while you die, then sure, who am I to begrudge you that?”

Still grinning, she steps forward, the cloak dragging on the ground behind her. “Not to worry, though. I know what I’m doing. I’ll make your deaths quick and painless and easy, ehehehehe.”

Now she hefts the scythe, brandishing it high and dramatic, before swinging it in a wide horizontal arc, prepared to strike them down where they stand...

...but just before the blade strikes, it dissolves away and turns into colorful confetti, which harmlessly billows around them and dances away on the breeze.

The ghost laughs.