#segment gave me such a jolt

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

186. The Field Guide To Evil (2018)

[heron-knight]

grafting parlor

a little biopunk short story I made as an example of what I want to see more of in the genre. feel free to use any element of it you want in your own writing.

I stared out the window of the train as it skittered along the track through town, its frantic pace for the sake of meeting the schedule making the seat a bit warmer than I would have liked as its countless legs accelerated to a blur. It always gets hard to focus when they run this fast, their heavy breaths reverberating through each segment. Outside, the dim streets glowed with the last lights of the night-taxis as they returned to their nests, the soft blue of their photophores contrasting with the piercing sunlight of dawn, their diurnal counterparts just starting to wake up and crawl tiredly from the garages. I yawned and carefully took a sip from my coffee, inevitably spilling some of it due to the train’s pace. “Why so fast?” I mumbled, running a hand along the chiton of the wall. The train did not respond. Maybe it couldn’t hear passengers, or maybe it was just one of the older generations that couldn’t understand anything but its own conductor’s neurosignals. The scenery of the city rushed by outside, streets and trees and buildings and combinations of the three melting together in the sunrise in that way that always makes you start to feel tired no matter how much caffeine you’re on. I mean-- it wasn’t like I had really gotten that much sleep the previous night, the anticipation of the day’s upcoming events having caused me to stay up so late that I’d only managed to fall asleep a few hours before my alarm had gone off-- but still, there’s something about a train’s undulating steps that makes it so you can’t help but doze off a bit. I must have, as I was jolted awake so heavily by the chirping of an incoming call that I fell suddenly from my seat onto the soft floor of the segment. My phone scampered from my shirt pocket as the train’s long, spindly arms descended from the ceiling and lifted me gently to my feet. “Who’s it now?” I asked as it climbed up my sleeve and perched on my shoulder, tugging at my ear until I picked it up. This was one of the newer breeds of phone, only having entered full production a couple months ago, though I’d had mine for quite a bit before that, from back when it was still in R&D. Swiping it from the lab may have set the Sciurus Corporation back a bit, but they could afford to deal with it. The prototype I had was always a bit too insistent that I answer calls as soon as they came in, a feature that I didn’t know whether or not was present in the final version. It squirmed slightly in my hand, all six limbs flailing as I held onto it with both my right thumbs, holding its head in place with my other hand, squinting in the sunlight as I looked at the screen set into its face. “Oh!” I exclaimed, loosening my grip. The phone proceeded to smooth out the fur that I had ruffled, staring at me intently as it continued to chirp. If a phone screen could look irritated, this one did. An impressive feat, considering the otherwise total lack of facial features-- not to mention that bio-transmitters hadn’t had subjectivity in years-- a mutual agreement by the Chordata Group had made it so. I pondered if I had time to answer and, deciding that I did, gave the phone a light tap in between the ears. “Sam!” I said, my voice half excitement and half tiredness, a theme that was quickly emerging for this part of the day. “How’re the legs?” my phone hopped back over to my shoulder, holding onto my ear securely before speaking into it.

“Sore.” they replied. “Can’t really walk, even. Should be at least a week before it’s done.” I leaned back in my seat and glanced out the window again. 

“Damn. How long since you started?”

“Eight months, if I’m keeping track right. Feet started changing about four days ago, and apparently they’ll grow wrong if I put any weight on them for too long. Not that I could if I wanted.”

“Can you bend them the other way yet?” There was a couple seconds of silence on Sam’s end, followed by some barely audible sounds of discomfort.

“Kind of.” Digitigrade legs were a highly recommended enhancement, but there was a reason why most people choose to have them grafted. Ambystomagen treatments were a lot of things. Well established, for one-- older than grafting by over a decade-- and with a nearly zero-percent rejection rate compared to grafting’s 8% for first-time recipients, but also weren’t known for being either quick or painless. Still, there’s something about feeling your own body change that meant I wouldn’t have disagreed with Sam’s decision in a million years-- and was in fact, the reason I’d recommended that they grow the legs themselves. It’s all about that moment-- that one morning when you wake up, see yourself in the mirror, and realize that it was the first time you’d truly done so. When I’d got my ears done, I’d had a hundred such moments, and each time I saw myself in the two years it had taken had been more euphoric than the last. My favorite part was that day I’d realized I had become able to angle them in the direction I’d wanted. Iris had needed to tranquilize my computer because I’d lose so much sleep otherwise staying up late watching videos on how to exercise the newly-grown muscles. “But….”

“Let me guess, ‘significant height gain?’” I sighed. 

“And I can just feel how much faster I’ll be able to run!” from the moment they’d had the effects of digitigradization explained to them, they’d been extremely excited about not being the shortest member of the team anymore. “Still hurts like hell though.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to head back to base once my appointment’s over? Help you take your mind off it for a bit?” Sam’s response was somewhat flustered.

“I… should be fine. Besides, Iris is still here.” I rolled my eyes. Don’t get me wrong, Iris is great to have around, but she’s not exactly someone I’d trust to take care of me while my new legs were growing in. 

“To do what, exactly? Their medical knowledge is limited to “here’s half a liter of knockout venom directly into one or more of your veins.” I could be back by lunch if you want.”

“An enticing offer…” Sam muttered, “but you’re getting a major graft today. No walking around until everything’s fused, and you know that you probably won’t be able to with what Doc’s going to have you on. Not to mention…” their voice dropped to a semi-conspiratorial sort of tone. “We all know you’d been waiting for a chance to spend the whole day in its office.” 

“I’m guessing that’s not why you called, though.” I glanced around the segment, making sure there was nobody else there before changing the subject. “You’ve got an update, don’t you.” 

“It’s on the move.” they said gravely. “Iris got a ping from one of their eyes a few minutes ago. Apparently, they’ve got the cargo loaded onto an Arktos-class freighter.” I snatched the phone from my ear so suddenly that it let out a pained squeak. Had I not finished my coffee, I would have spilled it for sure.

“Arktos?” I half-shouted into its ears. “Where the hell did they get one of those?”

“They’re a Chordata corporation.” the phone said, a bit of distortion present in the words as it caught its breath. “Tytonidae may not be the highest ranking, but they’ve got more net worth in one of their executives than we have in the whole city.” I took a deep breath, withdrawing a tin of mealworms from my pocket and handing one to the phone as an apology. 

“That still wouldn’t explain how they got a military grade chimera that, need I remind you, shouldn’t exist. This isn’t just a corporate agreement, this is World Pact level stuff. All the Arktoses got put down after the war, and every single fused pilot had to be severed. All of them, Sam. I once knew a former pilot who said they’d needed to cut both his legs off to meet the decommissioning schedule because they didn’t have time to remove him from it properly. The Pact Keepers do not take half measures. A surviving one would be worth billions.”

“That’s what I’ve been wondering about. Either they’ve had a huge leap in sales to be able to afford it from whatever the rich person equivalent of a back-alley flesh market is…”

“...or this cargo’s worth way more to not just them, but the whole group.” 

“Exactly.” The segment  was silent for a moment, the only sounds I could hear being the train’s footsteps. 

“Sam…” I said, staring out the window and looking ahead in the direction of the Doctor’s parlor. The city at dawn was as beautiful as a coral reef, and certainly not without its sharks. “If they’ve really got an Arktos… then this is big. This isn’t just swiping canisters of Ambystomagen from a branch pharmacy, this is something so important that Chordata’s willing to risk being the target of the Pactkeepers just to make sure it gets where it needs to go. I… I think I’m going to need to cancel the appointment. Get back to base, make a plan. With you out of commission and Iris’s situation… We need to-”

“Why do we do this?” Sam asked. Their voice was firm and declaratory despite their obvious exhaustion and I suspected a bit of Iris’s venom-- not as strong as a grafter’s but still effective. I took a second to center myself, slowing my breathing to match the train’s.

“To become ourselves and live the lives we always should have had.” I’d said those words a thousand times in a thousand different contexts, and they had never lost any meaning whatsoever. I still remembered the first time they had been said to me-- the first memory I’d had that wasn’t melted into the fog of half-repressed events that my mind had been up until the moment I’d first felt the sensation of ambystomagen gel soaking into my skin.

“And not let anyone or anything stop us. Don’t forget that what you’re doing today is the reason we all started working together in the first place. The journey’s important, but don’t let it make you forget the destination.” there was another brief silence. “It’s fine. Trust me, Eva. Today, you don’t need to worry about this. Iris got a few bugs on board the Arktos before it submerged, and from the path it’s taking, it’ll be at least a week before it gets remotely close enough to be of any concern. Go become yourself, and don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“Thanks, Sam.” I sighed. The train was starting to slow down now, and the sunrise had begun to disappear behind the dense canopy that covered Nyx Town. “Looks like I’m almost there. I’ll call you back later if I can.”

“Iris will swing by around eight to pick you up. I’m guessing you’re going to be pretty high on… whatever it is that it uses, so…” they trailed off for a moment. “I’d better ask now instead of later if that offer of a distraction’s still going to be good then.” I rolled my eyes and leaned in to whisper into the phone’s ear. 

“If I’m still conscious by the time I leave its office, I’ll provide all the distraction you need.” The train hummed a short tune that reverberated through its carapace as it pulled into the station, flexing its seats to inform any passengers that hadn’t been listening that we had arrived. “But also, don’t be afraid to let Iris put you under for a few hours if your legs start hurting too bad.” The phone’s screen went dark and it climbed back into my pocket as I stepped off the train into the warmly-lit streets of Nyx Town. 

The sun never reached this part of the city, blocked almost entirely by the enormous trees that towered above even the highest buildings around. It was the kind of place that gives you a feeling like being safely hidden beneath fallen leaves from the moment you step off the train and watch the fireflies meander across the skyline like stars that had come down to earth for a night on the town. The streets were mostly empty at that time of morning, as most of Nyx Town’s residents formed a large chunk of the city’s nocturnal population, and had probably just returned from their various night shifts across the city and gone to bed just a few hours ago. A few windows were still lit, but the only real activity then was the fireflies and the occasional homunculus that would wander past every so often, a tray of fliers or a clipboard with a petition on it balanced on top of its head or held in its stubby hands. 

“♪♪” I heard, looking down to see a smaller homunculus holding out a stack of papers. I sighed, reaching down to take one as I knew that it would just follow me around until I looked at what it was selling. I read through the flier absentmindedly, making sure it could see that I was doing so, though the contents of it did intrigue me. “𝅘𝅥𝅰𝅗𝅥”

“20% off first visit? Really?”

“♪!” 

“I’ll be sure to check it out, then.” the homunculus turned and waddled away as I folded up the ad and slid it into my pocket. It was for the new place that had just opened a few blocks down from where I was, which Iris had been wanting to take me to since they had started setting up. I’d never been in a tentacle pod before, but every time I heard someone talk about them made me more excited. The ones that this place had were apparently big enough for two people at once, and according to the flier the homunculus had given me, they were working on installing one that was big enough for three. Really, I had no Idea why I hadn’t gone to one as soon as I’d learned about their existence. Anyone who’s met me could tell you that it perfectly matches my idea of a good time, and Iris said they were great for dealing with soreness-- in fact, they were originally invented for use in spas. Maybe we could go after my appointment. The day was already going to be amazing, and three hours high on whatever was in the pod’s fluid while thick, slippery tentacles massaged me inside and out would be the perfect way to round it out. 

The restaurant was busy with all sorts of activity as I stepped in from the street, many-armed waiters and homunculi hurrying between tables under the soft, pulsing orange glow of the Lux Beetles as they scurried though the colony-tubes which branched out across the ceiling. In the corner, a large homunculus hummed a slightly familiar tune, its eight-fingered hands dancing across the crescent keyboard that it sat in the middle of. Pandora’s Box was the kind of place you could only find in Nyx Town-- an atmosphere devoid of any concept of time, tinted windows blocking out what little sunlight managed to reach the street to the point that even the fireflies were barely visible unless one flew right next to the glass. It didn’t matter when it was, where you had come from, or where you were going after, the warm lights of Pandora’s Box would shine all the same. The symphony of sizzling oil always managed to cut through the most frantic cacophonies no matter how many people were talking, sending out smells that you could pick up from a block away of everything from dollar-fifty synthflesh to the most top shelf of products so fresh that the meal was cooked up and served before whatever unmodded farm-raised livestock it had come from could be pronounced dead. No matter what they were cooking here, no matter what the customer could afford to order, the smell alone was enough to make you believe in a benevolent universe. I sauntered over to the bar and slid into one of the seats, a small team of office ants carrying a menu over to me as I waited.

“What’ll you be havin’ today?” Damian asked in his signature, all-over-the-place accent, not yet having recognised me. He traced a hand along the shelf, looking through his not-insignificant collection of expensive looking beverages. I leaned in as far as I could, not that the words I spoke were particularly secret to any of the place’s regulars. 

“A tall glass of all that I am” he spun around, grinning as he set his hand on the table and allowed the ants to crawl up it and into his sleeves.

“How long’ll ya be staying?”

“Until I can live with myself.” He reached under the counter and withdrew a wooden box, like the ones in which food was served  there but a bit fancier. It contained nothing except a small piece of paper, three words printed just below a dotted line--

Who are you?

A few ants crawled from the messy curls of his hair and pulled the pencil from behind his ear, carrying it down his arm and placing it in my hand before returning to their home. Slowly and deliberately, I signed with a flourish. 

Evalin Veritas, nothing less. Damian closed the box and set it aside.

“Good seein’ ya, Eva.” he said, reaching behind him and grabbing a bottle without looking. How’s Sam? They started gettin’ results for that latest change a’ theirs?” 

“They’re in the middle of the worst part now.”

“Ankles snapped yet?”

“Not yet, but it’s close.” he poured the drink into the glass just as the ants carried it over, then slid it over to me.

“Gets better after that, trust me.” I couldn’t see below the counter, but I knew that he was hopping from foot to foot in that way he always did when he felt euphoric. I remembered how Sam had nearly died from mod envy the first time they’d seen him step out from behind the bar. “This one’s on th’ house for Doc’s favorite customer.”

“Thanks.” I said as I sipped it. It was one of my favorites, imported from Europe. The kind of drink that was right on the edge of what Worldpact considered legal, fitting nicely the tone of an establishment that was one live jazz band away from feeling like it would be right at home in the 1920s. The kind that made my ears twitch no matter how small a sip I took. I never did understand how he managed to always pick the right one without looking at it. “Really, I feel like the authentication wasn’t necessary. You know who I am.”

“Ya can never be too careful.” he twisted around and placed the bottle back on the shelf, a few ants falling from his vest as he did so. “Got a Monopoly Man ‘round here just a few days ago with Liam’s face-- high-dollar stitchwork too, and cloned so good I’d thought they’d cut it off the man ‘imself. Besides--”  he tapped the box under the counter. “--I know how much ya like t’ sign your name.” I laughed as I finished my drink. 

“And my mom said I was no good at signatures.”

“I bet that’s the least of what’d surprise ‘er if she could see ya now.”

“Eh, she still wouldn’t be impressed because she’d think I wasn’t signing with the right name.” I said. “Sometimes I wouldn’t mind putting her in the ground right next to the name she would want me to sign.”

“And give ‘er the satisfaction of knowin’ ya cared at all about what she thought?”

“Good point.” I sighed. “Well, I’d better head downstairs. Don’t want to keep Doc waiting.”

“Alright then. See ya after, and don’t forget t’ say hi t’ Sam for me.”

The lights downstairs were softer than the ones above, the glass-covered veins of algae along the walls dim enough that I nearly stumbled as I descended the stairs that led down from the kitchen. The waiting room was small, and the few couches and chairs had so many heavy blankets piled on top that I had to move a few out of the way before I sat down. Down there, below all the frantic activity of Pandora’s Box, a long staircase and a door hidden behind a spice rack between me and the rest of the world-- it just felt safe in a way that few other places really did for me. not through any danger present, but simply the lack of the warm, comfortable atmosphere of this hidden place beneath the city. With none of the bright lights, rapid activity, or constant schedules of the world outside, this place was where you went to forget whatever worried you, and just beyond the large doors opposite the staircase was where you went to become something that was able to handle it. I hadn’t really been to any other grafting parlor, but I assumed that I was incredibly lucky to have found this one. I might have fallen asleep for a second as I waited.

“Hello~” I heard from behind me as something heavy leaned onto the back of the couch. I looked up to see the Doctor, its face inches from mine as it stood over me. 

“Um… hi.” I stammered. I froze for a minute, unable to think of what to say. How’s it going? Been to the new tentacle pod place yet? What big teeth you have? Not to mention the fact that wherever it got its venom from, just breathing in the air that it exhaled was enough to make me lightheaded. It laughed in a sort of way that sounded as if it was laughing with several voices at once-- a sort of layered quality that, in the several years I had known the Doctor, I had not been able to figure out how exactly it had the effect that it did on me.

“That’s all it takes to freeze you?” it said playfully, a pair of right hands sliding out from under its coat to scratch under my chin. “The way it’s going so far, I might not even need to use venom to numb the site.” one of the hands traveled up my face slowly, stroking the top of my head in between my ears. “In my medical opinion… it seems like all I need to do is say hello and you just become completely helpless. Don’t worry though, you’ll still get plenty. I won’t hurt you.” I stood up and stretched, taking a second to center myself as the Doctor smiled warmly at me.

“You just surprised me is all.” I said, not exactly confrontationally and not exactly making any attempt to disprove its conclusions. It stood up to its full height, nearly nine feet tall. To anyone who didn’t know it, the Doctor might have seemed somewhat imposing-- towering over just about anyone else, who knows how many arms hidden beneath its coat-- the more you looked, the more you saw. That seamless transition from fur to feathers to scales on just about every patch of exposed skin, the way that no two of its limbs were quite the same despite the sheer number of them-- it really was on a different level. Chaotic, huge, and absolutely beautiful to anyone brave enough to let themselves see it that way. 

“Shall we get to the grafting? I bet you’re excited.” it gestured to the large door before heading through it, holding it open with one of its longer arms as I followed.

The office of the Doctor’s grafting parlor had much of the same atmosphere as the waiting room-- the same soft lighting, all the cushioning on the seat-- even the shelves of medical instruments were populated by just as many plushies as scalpels. The Doctor yawned, the whole lower two-thirds of its face splitting open, rows upon rows of teeth glinting in the algae-light as it stretched out each section and layer of its beautifully complex jaw and flexed its tongues, thick saliva starting to drip down its neck. I blushed slightly as I watched from the chair. “So how have you been, Eva?” it asked, the structure of its face all folding in on itself like a flower blooming in reverse until in under a second, it had all snapped back to its original position. 

“Not bad.” I replied. “We’ve got good intel on the next job, but there’s a bit of a complication involving… an Arktos.”

“Really?” it said, turning to face me as its tails organized the shelf behind it. What was the deal with the people here being able to do things without looking? Maybe its tails simply had their own subjectivity, or a portion of the Doctor’s had been assigned to them. “I got to take one of those for a spin a while back. They’ve got enough nerve feedback to scramble the sense right out of you unless you’ve been trained to take it… or you’re willing to surrender to it. But, that’s not what I meant. I was asking about your mods. Any trouble with them?” I thought for a second.

“No… not that I can think of.” the Doctor slid over to where I was.

 “Don’t worry about work, Eva. not here.” it said. “It’s been a bit since the last time you stopped by. Do we have time for a checkup before we start?” I nodded, and immediately I felt countless hands run across every part of my body, tracing around the seam of every graft and feeling the progress of each ambystomagen course. I laid back in the seat and let it do its work, trying and failing to keep my mind out of the gutter.

It’s strange, the way the Doctor examines someone-- a sort of exploratory embrace formed from hands alone, wrapping around you completely and taking in every bit of information all at once-- feeling how much softer your skin’s become, every tiny change to your shape, how well blood flows through a new artery. All you can really do is relax, and that’s really all you’d want to do. It always laughed softly whenever it felt me go limp like that. “Your ears have grown in nicely.” it said gripping one of them softly and moving it from side to side. “And they look great on you. So it’s that, the extra thumb, the estrogen, the larynx, and a few other assorted mods… am I forgetting anything.”

“And the lung.” 

“Oh right, the lung.” it said as it tilted my head up and ran a finger along the scar on my throat. It could have gotten rid of it easily long ago, but the voice change had been one of those mods where I’d decided to keep the marks of its installation. Simultaneously, it slid a pair of hands to each button on my shirt, ready to unbutton them all at once as soon as it had my permission. “Mind if I check the scars?”

“Sure.” I stammered. Of all the changes I’d had, the lung might have been my favorite so far to get installed. The Doctor never told me exactly how it’d managed to perfect its venom formula, but once all the capacity for pain is temporarily removed from your nervous system, feeling its many hands moving around inside your ribcage as it pulls out a failing organ before cracking open its own chest to withdraw the replacement it had been growing for you and sliding it into yours-- the sensation is really quite interesting. It always connected its own cardiovascular system to yours whenever it did major work like that, so as it worked it could feel exactly how much your heart was pounding. 

“It’s all feeling good? No pain?”

“A little bit if I run too fast, but it’s been getting better.”

“Voice is sounding good?”

“Yeah. Did it feel ok? It’s been a bit itchy.” It thought for a second.

“As… far as I can tell from just a quick examination. I’ll check a bit more thoroughly once you’re nice and relaxed.” I blushed slightly. Larynx and other throat mods were easier to examine internally than from the outside, and the most noticeable difference of the Doctor’s business model from other grafters is “who needs an endoscope when you’ve got several foot-long tongues?” 

“It looks like everything’s going well, then…” one of its eyes continued looking at your face as the other three slowly glanced down. “...and so’s the estrogen, I see. You just don’t get results like these unless you combine them with an ambystomagen course. Just the hormones and nothing else, and the results would be much less impressive.”

“My eyes are up here.” I said, a clear lack of any actual irritation present in my voice.

“Only for as long as you wish to limit yourself to two. Just say the words, and I could give you eyes everywhere." The office was silent for a minute, then we both laughed. 

“Thanks, but I’m good. Maybe a tail, though.”

“You would look great with a tail.” the Doctor leaned back, setting me down in the chair. “I’ve got a few options for you if you’d like to grow it yourself, or you could have one of mine. but now, let’s focus on your new arm.” I grinned as I remembered why I was there in the first place.

“Which one is it?” I looked at the many limbs I could see. All of them looked fantastic. It pulled back its coat and stretched out one arm, letting the others hang at its sides.

“I’ve been growing this one just for you.” it said as I reached out and touched it. The skin was soft and had a strange but pleasant smell to it. “Six fingers and double-shouldered, just what you asked for. I even took the liberty of putting a few helpful muscle memories in it.” I sat up and slid my hand along the length of it. “A high-quality limb like this, not to mention unchipped and unregistered… ordinarily, one of these would be worth its weight in gold. But…” it held my face in a few of its hands, smiling at me with a sort of warmth that you might not think was possible with all those teeth. “Just seeing how great you feel after a new graft-- that’s all I need. I just want to know that it’s helped, and that’s enough… That and the couple thousand dollars you paid upfront.” I chuckled slightly. “Hey, all the ambystomagen I need to grow these isn’t exactly free. Besides, I do need just a little bit of entertainment now and then, and with what it takes to hold my interest, I need a significant budget.” 

“Shall we start?” I said, leaning back again and rolling slightly to one side to show the part of my back that I wanted the arm attached to. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

I had been to the Doctor’s grafting parlor many times before-- I had been expecting the sensation long before I heard its face split open again and felt its tongues against my skin-- but no matter how much I would prepare for it, I would always shudder at that first moment of contact. That tingling sensation wherever its saliva touches you, followed by a gradual numbness as it sinks in. it didn’t spread through your body like its venom did, but it still always left me a little tired. I’d never seen a modification like that advertised, let alone on anyone other than the Doctor. It’d said that it was a bacteria that it had worked almost five years to imbue with all sorts of useful functions-- antimicrobial, anesthetic, a little bit paralytic-- and also cherry-flavored, though I’d only learned that a few months ago with a bit of firsthand experience. It wasn’t entirely necessary-- every grafter had some variant of total anesthetic venom, the Doctor included-- but it was nice to know that it was willing to spend years of its life and who knows how much money spent on plasmids for the bacteria, just to make it not hurt when it sunk its fangs in. All it felt like was two gentle points of applied pressure, followed by that wave of calmness as almost 250 milliliters of venom wrapped around each nerve. I could feel my mind start to slow down almost immediately.

“Doing okay?” the Doctor asked. I couldn’t quite get myself to form the words, so I just nodded. “That’s good.” it said, lifting me up for a second to adjust my position. “Try to relax.” At the moment, relaxing was really all I could do. My vision was starting to blur to the point where I couldn’t answer when it asked me how many fingers it was holding up-- meaning the amount of venom had been sufficient. 

I barely felt it as the Doctor began to cut, peeling back layers of flesh and holding them in place with its hands alone-- a nearly imperceptible warmth as blood flowed from the incision, a numb pressure as it held it open, and a strange tingling as I felt air against my spine. It always worked quickly, dozens of limbs all moving independently, hands filled with scalpels and jars of stem cells-- sculpting the bone itself as its remaining hands ran through my hair, stroking my ears as it told me how good I was doing. 

It’s strange to think of your bones as having nerves. Soreness in them can be proof enough in their capacity to hurt, but you often might think of your skeleton as simply an inert frame-- no actual life in it to speak of. Still, that intense feeling as preexisting nerves connected to new ones was strong enough that I could feel it through the venom. It didn't really hurt-- that part of my brain had been sealed off completely-- and without it, all that was left was sensation. Like the feeling of a neutral texture against your skin, magnified by a factor of ten thousand until it was practically electrifying. Through the venom and the nerve signals, I could hear a sound from behind me-- a sort of suppressed whimper as the Doctor worked on getting the new arm ready to graft. More and more of the scalpel-holding arms left the graft site as it worked until finally only a few pairs of hands remained, holding the incision open until the new bones solidified. There’s a reason why major grafts are often so expensive-- not just to get them registered, not just all the ambystomagen needed to grow a new limb entirely from scratch-- but because giving an arm to someone else is much harder for the person that’s not allowed to use any sort of numbing agent. Laying back as a new appendage is sewn on is one thing. Cutting off one of your own limbs is another, even if you’ve got plenty to spare. 

I could barely move then-- it took all my energy to lift my arm, to reach up over my shoulder, and to hold it out. The Doctor accepted it, squeezing it with one hand, then another, then another. I struggled to form words, but I had to say it. 

“You’re… doing… great.”

It leaned over me for a second, the flesh around the arm sliced and pulled back until only a few fibers around the bone held it on. A few drops of blood dripped down onto my face as it smiled weakly. “Thanks.” it whispered, before it gripped the arm right next to the ragged edge of the cut and tore it suddenly from its socket. 

The graft went smoothly after it took a second to catch its breath-- bones were lined up, ambystomagen slathered on the cut ends of veins and nerves, and flesh stitched into place with the Doctor’s personal silk. It told me as it bandaged itself that it would take a bit for everything to merge together, but I was already half asleep. Getting a major graft done takes a lot out of you-- a good grafter can get you through it with only a little bit less blood then when you’d started, but getting new nerves connected is exhausting. I tried to stay awake-- even if the Doctor had been doing major grafts for years, some part of me couldn’t help but feel a little worried. Trying to stay conscious, however, was as futile as trying to move. The sheer amount of venom inside me made it completely impossible, and I passed out from the effort of trying to turn myself over. 

You always wake up slowly after one of the Doctor’s grafts-- an element of its business model that few other grafters share. Go to a corporate parlor and you’d be out the door just a few minutes after waking up, but it tended to value customer satisfaction over keeping a tight schedule-- besides, it didn’t have the option to clock out and bring in a new grafter following each major graft. As a result, you really get a good while to fade in and out of consciousness, your brain too exhausted even to think “I should really get up now.” not to mention how with just how safe you feel in that place, you wouldn’t be thinking that anyway.

The first thing I felt as I regained consciousness was the Doctor’s breath-- a slow, gentle pattern against my shoulder as I lay on my side, its arms draped over me, but its grip was weak enough that it was at first indistinguishable from the blankets I was wrapped in. my eyelids still felt too heavy to open and I still hadn’t fully regained sensation in the ends of my limbs, but I could tell immediately that it was asleep. Asleep, but still taking care not to damage the new graft as it held me, all its many arms surrounding me like a nest. I was vaguely aware of some sort of movie running in the background, the sound of it seeming muffled at first, but slowly becoming clearer as the venom began to wear off-- likely an attempt by the Doctor to find some way to stay awake. Leaving an unconscious patient unattended is generally something that grafters avoid doing, but this wouldn’t cut into my review of the place in a million years.  

I focused on the textures around me as I lay there-- the blankets, the arms, the fur that covered the Doctor’s chest, thinning the further down it got until it left that warm, soft patch of skin on its stomach, not unlike one that a bird would have to incubate eggs. I could feel its additional heartbeats through it-- the second and fourth hearts, I think. It might have gotten some new ones since last time, or moved them around a bit. Did it know that I liked to listen to them? Did it get them installed somewhere where the sound of them wouldn’t be muffled by layers of fur so that I could?  This was one of those moments where I felt allowed to not care about anything else-- the plans, the world outside that room, even the Arktos and however the corporations got their hands on one-- none of that mattered. What did matter was that the feeling as each nerve connected as ambystomagen fused new tissue with old was one of the best things I’d ever felt, even through the remaining venom. That moment, that place-- that euphoria that flooded my brain with each pulse of calcium ions through my nervous system-- that was what I had been looking for. That was why I-- no, why we did this. The knowledge, clearer with each time I flexed the muscles of the new arm, that I was more than I had been before.

(oh, and @estrogenandspite— your move.)

[binilpol]

Hidden Affection 8th member

Y/N had always stood out in ENHYPEN, not just because of her talent, but because of her petite figure that contrasted with the tall and lean stature of the boys. They couldn't resist teasing her about it, and she took it in stride, giving as good as she got.

As they prepared for a variety show appearance, the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. The group was known for their close-knit bond, and today was no exception. But Jay had a secret that he couldn't keep hidden any longer.

In the green room, Y/N was going over her lines, trying to stay focused despite the playful banter from the others.

"Y/N, do you need a booster seat?" Heeseung teased with a grin, earning a playful swat from her.

"Very funny, Heeseung. You guys are just too tall," she retorted, sticking her tongue out.

Jay, standing nearby, couldn't help but smile at her feisty spirit. He leaned in closer, whispering into her ear, "I think your height is perfect just the way it is."

She blushed but gave him a sly smile, "Oh, really? And why's that?"

He leaned in even closer, brushing his lips against her earlobe. "Because it makes it easier for me to do this."

His warm breath sent a shiver down her spine as he gently kissed her earlobe, a barely-there touch but enough to make her heart race.

As the cameras rolled, Jay couldn't resist sneaking in touches that appeared casual but held a hidden intensity. During a break, he playfully stole her snack, and as she reached out to grab it back, their fingers brushed, sending a shiver down her spine.

During the show's game segment, they were paired up, and Jay seized the opportunity to be even more playful. The host had announced a challenge that required them to work together closely, and Jay's eyes sparkled mischievously as he glanced at Y/N.

With the game underway, he stood behind her, his chest barely brushing against her back. Their mission involved coordinating their movements, and Jay made sure to be in sync with Y/N. His hands would subtly graze her waist, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

When they had to share a microphone, he'd lean in close, their cheeks almost touching as they laughed together. The tension between them was palpable, their playful banter laced with a hidden desire.

The other members noticed the subtle changes in Jay's behavior but said nothing, knowing the truth that they kept hidden from the public eye. Sunghoon would give them knowing glances, and Sunoo would sometimes tease, but they all respected their privacy.

After the filming, the group huddled backstage, and Y/N couldn't help but blush at Jay's playful antics. "You were quite touchy today," she commented with a teasing smile.

Jay winked at her, his voice low, "I can't help it when you're standing so close."

Sunghoon chimed in, "Yeah, Jay, you were practically glued to her."

Jay laughed it off, but his eyes never left Y/N. "Can't blame me for wanting to be close to someone as amazing as her."

The rest of ENHYPEN exchanged knowing glances, aware of the secret they shared. As fans speculated about their interactions on the show, Y/N and Jay continued their secret romance, finding joy in the stolen moments and shared laughter that came with being together, even if it was out of the public eye.

(Fan comments under the video)

User123: "Am I the only one who noticed how Jay kept getting touchy with Y/N? 😏 They're so cute together!"

Hoonmylove: "Okay, but can we talk about the chemistry between Jay and Y/N in this video? It's off the charts! 💕"

Jay/n: "I've been shipping Jay and Y/N for ages, and this video just confirms everything I've ever believed. They're totally dating!"

Jakepake: "I'm not sure if Jay and Y/N are secretly dating, but they're definitely close. Look at those smiles and glances!"

Heesboo: "I don't want to assume anything, but Jay and Y/N's interactions are giving me all the feels. They'd make such a cute couple!"

Sunoosun: "Am I the only one who replayed that game segment a million times? Jay's hand on Y/N's waist was NOT accidental, right?"

Y/n_loml: “y wont they leave her alone shes not that short lmao💀.”

Liked by jay_park and 1,007,866 other

Had a blast at the variety show with the ENHYPEN crew! 🎉 Special shoutout to Sunoo for almost losing in the epic game showdown! 😌 #ENHYPEN #VarietyShowChampion #Y/N

Comments..

sunghoonofficial: "Y/N, 부스터 시트 가져왔어ㅋㅋㅋ?"

(Y/N, did you bring your booster seat lol?)

PRETTYY/N:”"나는 평균 키에요!🥲”

(I’m average height!🥲)

sunoo_risingstar: "아직도 그 게임에서 나한테 거의 지고 났다는 게 믿기지가 않아ㅋㅋㅋ! "

(I still can't believe you almost beat me in that game lol!) Liked by PRETTYY/N

jakeenhyphen: "예능 여왕님 그 자리! 😆"

(The variety show queen herself! 😆)

PRETTYY/N: "나는 여왕이고, 넌 왕이야!👑”

(I’m the queen,you’re the king!👑”

heeseung_love: "Y/N, 그 키크게 넘어가는 남자들 좀 조심해! 😜” (Y/n watch out for those tall boys!😜)

Liked by PRETTYY/N

niki_the_kid: "누나, 너무 재밌었어!😆” (Noona, it was so much fun! 😆)

Liked by PRETTYY/N

jay_enhypen: "Y/N, 걱정하지 마; 나가 그 키크게 나타난 남자들로부터 너를 지킬게!🙃" (Y/n, dont worry I’ll protect you from those tall boys!🙃) Liked by PRETTYY/N

i used google trans sorry if it doesn’t make sense!

[notmuchapoet-21]

superstar

She’s on the radio again. Her voice is the only reason I take out the radio she gave me every morning at nine AM, for her tiny, thirty-second segment after the traffic report. A Letter from Hermione Granger. She’s Wizarding Britain’s favourite, and I’m no one different from her screaming fans after she gives a speech, or who cheer for her after she passes legislature. I shake the thoughts away and listen. 

“After the war, I worked as a counsellor for reformed Azkaban prisoners. When I was working with my last person, I remember that I had always said that he was unforgivable before I met him. When I met him, I was surprised at the person I found underneath labels of Death Eater and Blood Traitor and Evil. Of course, my experience is only an individual one, and it’s impossible to ignore someone’s past, but I believe that it’s possible for redemption.” And then her voice fades out and it’s replaced by horoscopes. 

I feel her words touch something in me. Blood Traitor. Evil. Death Eater. Where’s your Lord now? My fingers clench on the table, remembering the voices of the guards as they stripped me and searched me and spat on me. Not so haughty now, are you, Malfoy? Where’s your father now? Oh, he’s dead! Poor Draco. And then, a word parts the blizzard. Breathe, Draco. I remember her telling me that, her fingers light on the base of my neck, one of the many times I got lost inside my mind and she led me home. Breathe. Can you tell me where we are right now?

“I’m at home,” I mutter. Good. Now, who am I? 

“Hermione Granger. My reformation counsellor. Not anymore. But…” Good, Draco. Take a moment. Maybe I clung on to her in that memory, because I remember her pulling my hands away and clasping them in her own. I’m not going anywhere. 

“But you lied.” I brush my hair out of my face. “You left, didn’t you. I know I shouldn’t resent you for it, but you left. Said you’d write and you didn’t. Because Weasley took you on some impromptu trip and proposed.”

“Talking to yourself now?” Pansy saunters into the room. I jolt up from the counter I was leaning on.

“Jeez, Parks, where did you come from?” I ask, smoothing down my clothes. I wave my wand and the radio stops. 

“Today’s brunch day, did you already forget? Blaise and Theo are already in the garden.” Pansy waves her wand and summons a tray from the cabinets under my sink.

“Shit, was that today?” I rub my forehead. “I completely forgot. I didn’t trim the roses, so the gazebo is pretty much unfunctional.”

“I still don’t know why you do that by hand. You can’t use house elves anymore, but I bet there’s dozens of spells,” Pansy murmurs as she unpacks her bag. She pulls out a cake and places it on the tray.

“That looks good,” I say absently.

“Do you think so? I baked it myself. With Harry.” Pansy continues unpacking her bag and placing increasingly elaborate creations on the tray. “So, what’s on Draco’s mind that he forgot about our weekly brunch day? Were you crushing after Granger again?” 

“What? No—”

“I don’t understand how you got so attached to her. I hated my reformation counsellor so I fired him and did the community service hours instead. I’m actually glad, I wouldn’t have met Harry otherwise,” Pansy says. She lifts up the tray. “Grab the teapot for me?”

I follow her out the garden doors and walk the winding path into the garden. As expected, the roses I forgot to trim block the entrance to the gazebo. But Theo and Blaise have decided to try their hands at gardening. On my roses, that my mother took so much care of, and that Hermione taught me to care for. I place the teapot precariously on Pansy’s tray and rush forward, snatching the clippers from Theo and the trowel from Blaise.

“And were you thinking you could dig the petals out of my roses?” I ask, waving the trowel. I make quick work of the roses, sending them with the tools back into my kitchen. I’ll give the flowers at Mother’s grave later. I clean up the gazebo and soon we’re seated. 

“So, what sadness lengthens Draco’s hours?” Blaise asks as he butters a crumpet. 

“Who do you think?” Theo sighs dramatically. 

“Wizarding Britain’s superstar, Hermione Granger,” Pansy announces. She sips her mimosa.

“You three are horrible,” I mutter. “I haven’t talked to her in a year.” 

“And herein lies the problem,” Theo intones. “You think she’ll hate you.”

“I think that I was just another one of her patients for lack of a better word,” I correct. “She talked about another one of her guidance patients on the radio today.”

“But weren’t you her last patient? She got engaged to—”

“No, she did a couple more after she got back from her trip,” I reply. 

“How do you even know that when you won’t let us tell you about how her life’s going, and you won’t read about her in the society pages?” Blaise asks. 

“Potter told me when we were meeting him. Said she was planning to do more counselling.”

“Well—”

“Why must we always talk about me? These brunches have become ambushes,” I complain. “Parks, how’s the shop going?”

“I got seventy orders for hand-painted masquerade masks for Rosewood’s Summer Solstice party, so I’ve been working day in, day out. Harry has tried to help, but to no avail. I won’t let his ham-handed paint job ruin my store’s reputation,” Pansy sighs. “I think I hurt his feelings, but I haven’t the time to make it right.”

“That’s a skilled person problem,” Theo complains.

“You’re just salty because ever since Matthew broke up with you, you’ve just lounged around being a dramatic prat in your huge manor,” Pansy retorts. 

“Matthew’s dating this guy named Tony now,” Theo wails. He hides his face in his sleeve. 

“There, there,” Blaise pats his arm. “Must be hard not being wanted. I couldn’t relate.”

“That’s because you’re in a happy relationship—” Theo sniffles, lifting his head. “And I’ll be alone forever!” Theo starts sobbing again, even louder. 

“Theo!” Pansy snaps her fingers in front of Theo’s face. “I brought you your favourite sweets—”

“Lemon pound cake?” Theo stops crying instantly. I laugh as Theo scarfs down three slices of lemon cake in rapid succession. Soon, no one wants to leave so we cook dinner together as Pansy gripes about the unreasonable patrons who come to her for her clothes, and Theo moans about Matthew, and Blaise preens in front of the mirrors.

As I mount the stairs to my room after my friends leave, a strange thought comes unbidden over me. What if I just sent her a letter like she told me to. I’m sorry I’ve got to go now. But you should keep in touch, Draco. I’ll always be here for you. I trusted her, so the moment I heard she was back, I waited outside her house. She returned with Weasley, laughing up the stairs with bags full of groceries from the Farmer’s Market that she once brought me to. That was our place. But it wasn’t like I could say that, so I left. 

I still have the rule I made that day scribbled on a framed piece of paper on my nightstand. You will not talk to Hermione Granger. I’ve come too far to break that rule. But I need to hear her voice. That, I’ve allowed myself. I grab the recording I made of her first message and pull the covers over my head.

“Good morning! I’m Hermione Granger, and for the next few months, I’ll be with you every morning at nine AM, giving you a couple insights to start your day! Today, I’ll be leaving you with just a sentence. Recovery doesn’t happen in an instant, and it’s hard to enjoy the process, but it’s one thing that everyone can try.”

You were my only competitor for top marks every year, Draco. You can do this. I remember her hand on mine, guiding my hand to clip the roses, her fingers deftly stirring a pot full of stew and lifting the spoon to my lips, her fingernails digging into my skin as I steadied her on the ice rink. She was so close, right in front of me and so beautifully alive, until she left and I had to content myself watching her speeches in the back row, listening to the recording I made of her radio messages, and knowing that she’ll never see me. 

I’ve spent my life after Azkaban trying so hard to disappear from the public eye—after a year, the hate mail slowed to occasional howlers—but now, all I want is for her to see me. Then what? My mind mocks me. You still have hope that she treasures those moments too, don’t you? How could she ever? You were just another fan, another patient, another person who she changed forever. Just another person who loves her.

I roll over to face the ceiling and wave my wand to reveal the stars behind a glass ceiling. It’s wrong for me to like her this way. For me to want to see your face this bad, because I know that if I ever talked to you, I’d be disappointed. We sat on this very roof once and I pointed out Draco and Andromeda, she showed me Sirius. I told her about my mother and her roses, so the next day, she helped me revive the clippings I brought from the manor. 

I honestly think that the reason why I refuse to get close to her again, why it’s my staunch rule, is because I am as much of a coward that I was in my Hogwarts years, and on the Astronomy tower, and during the war. Unlike her, and Weasley, and Potter, and every hero that I am not.

The next morning is uncharacteristically misty for a late-Spring day. I unfold the Prophet and spot her face on the front page. She passed another Dragon Protection Act, and I know that triumphant look on her face from class when she beat me on a test. I huff a laugh. I remind myself of Pansy when she used to cut out pictures of her favourite singers from the magazines she ordered. I close the paper and place my teacup in the sink. 

A word catches my eye from the bottom of the page that I just closed. I dart towards and flip it open. Romania. I backtrack across the page. In order to learn more about her next goals, Ms. Granger will be in Romania for the next six months. We’ll be sorry to see her go, but are thrilled for her most recent victory. I stumble towards the radio. Her leaving to Romania means she’ll be stopping her program, perhaps indefinitely. Her leaving means that for six months, I won’t hear her voice. 

Good morning everyone! It’s Hermione Granger, and today, before I say my little message, I have an announcement today. Today will be the last segment of my little program—

Oh no. No. No. My knees hit the floor, fingers scrabbling on the floorboards. She can’t leave. She can’t be going again. I can’t be alone again, but maybe I was always alone because I haven’t talked to her in a year and she doesn’t care but she cared so much and she taught me to care too, so how can she leave now—

That’s all. It’s been a great ride, and I’m so thrilled for my next adventures. Hermione Granger, signing off. There’s a click as I realise that she’s now completely gone, and that I just missed her last message, and I’m falling into darkness. 

I’m in the Forbidden Forest, watching Voldemort’s body rot. The maggots chitter and scramble through his empty eye sockets, and somehow, they form words I know. Death Eater. Evil scum. Unworthy. Failure. They stop moving suddenly, and I feel something staring at me. I whirl around, and she’s right there. But maybe she isn’t, because there is no warmth in her face. She just stands there, staring at me, cold, honey-gold eyes picking me apart with disdain. Finally, her face twists. Worthless Death Eater scum, she spits before whirling away. I stumble back as the maggots swarm me. Breathe. I am shivering in the corner of my cell in Azkaban as the winds howl outside. Breathe. I am receiving my first Howler, words coming at me like a storm. Breathe. And Hermione Granger is walking away. 

Draco! A shout punctures my consciousness, followed by a loud banging. Draco! Are you in here? Draco! A female voice shouts my name again. Is it—no. That was the past. When I locked myself in my house with only the smouldering embers of a red envelope, lost somewhere between Azkaban and the Astronomy Tower. It was the anniversary of the war, and I had ignored all of her letters, and somehow, she came to find me, banging on my door. Draco! Draco! Are you in here? You can’t just— a frustrated noise—Just open the door, okay? This is literally my job—I need to see that you’re not dead! So I let her in, and she curled my fingers around a mug of tea. Drink. 

“Why don’t you call me Malfoy?” I asked her, voice breaking. I coughed to hide it. She looked up, eyes wide, as if she had never thought of it, a furrow forming between her brows. I longed to smooth it away. She came to a conclusion, blinking at me. 

“You’re not your father,” she said simply. And that was that. And that was that. 

I am lying on crisp white sheets in a room in St. Mungo’s. I hear voices and struggle to focus on them.

“—collapsed from shock. He should be fine in a while. If you three had come any later, this could’ve been much worse. He should stay here for a couple more days, and I will check on him in a couple hours.”

“Thank you,” I hear Pansy say, echoed by murmurs from Blaise and Theo. 

“Is he all right?” That’s a new voice. It’s so familiar, but somehow—

“He won’t die, Granger,” Pansy says roughly. Granger? Hermione Granger? My eyes fly open, but the light is too bright, and I shut them immediately, wincing. But I know it’s her. 

“Well, I guess there’s nothing to do,” Theo mutters. It’s so strange to hear them like this, all worried and defeated. 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go get something to drink. Sorry for dragging you two into this,” Pansy sighs. “I know it was your last time to meet before Granger leaves.”

“It’s fine. Hermione insisted,” Harry replies. The door opens. No. Don’t leave again. Please—

“Don’t go—” the words shoot out of me. “Please—” And maybe she recognizes the words from late-night Patronuses and my hand tight around hers when I was lost and she pulled me out of darkness, because she turns back and takes my hand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers. There’s a rustle of her turning around. “I’ll stay here a bit longer. You guys should go ahead of me.” And this time, she doesn’t let go.

I wake up to curls tickling my neck. Or at least, I think I wake up. I don’t want it to be a dream as she kisses my forehead and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. And I want it to be a dream as she steps away from my bed and opens the door, leaving once again.

six months later.

I walk down the street with my recording in hand. It’s been six months, and I think I’ve learned to live without her voice every morning. Maybe. I wish she walked away after our first official meeting as my reformation counsellor. A year ago, she walked into my living room with two mugs of tea and told me that she would be by my side for the next three months—

“Fuck off, Mudblood,” I told her, the slur slipping out of my mouth.

“Words mean nothing without conviction,” she said, her expression hardening but with an easy smile.

“You sound like Aunt Bella when she taught me how to do the Unforgivables,” I replied. 

“You stopped saying mudblood with hate in Fourth Year at the World Cup. Remember? You told me that they were looking for mudbloods like me. But there was no hate. You were horrified, maybe?” Her easy smile never slipped. 

“You fucki—”

“You stopped saying that word with conviction when I saw you in Seventh Year. Maybe because of the Astronomy Tower—” I flinched, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her gaze sharpened, but she continued. “So now, when you say it with neither hate nor conviction, they’re just two words. Put a word in the middle, say ‘not,’ and it becomes ‘mud not blood.’ Then it could be like we went to the cinema and you were scared of the ‘blood’ in a black and white film. Maybe I would’ve turned to you and said, “It’s mud, not blood.” She smiled at me in that annoyingly smug way of hers, like she just beat me in test scores.

“You’re fucking delusional,” I spat. 

“True,” she replied lightly. She got up, easy expression gone. “But Draco Lucius Malfoy, you’re delusional if you think that you’re going to sabotage my chances to become a better candidate for Department Head of the Magical Creatures Department.”

“Ah, I knew you had some ulterior motives,” I said, vindicated. “You aren’t a selfless hero, Granger. I knew it.”

“And did you ever think I was?” She smiled at me, a sharp smile that was more teeth than happiness. 

“Better you than Potthead,” I replied. “But you’ve got to wonder, could someone who isn’t a selfless hero become Department Head?”

“Seeing that your father was on the Board of Directors of Hogwarts, clearly,” she replied flippantly.

“You don’t know shit about my family,” I snarled. 

“Hmm. Another thing to talk about.” She made a note on her page. “Well, Draco, I’m glad we could have this little heart-to-heart. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“I won’t,” I muttered.

“Oh, you will, Draco Malfoy. Even if I have to hunt you down myself. Now that I know that you hate this, I’m even more motivated to do my job.” 

“You’re loitering,” a familiar voice calls, jerking me out of my memory. 

“Parks,” I say, trying to regain my composure. “I came to visit you.”

“Clearly, seeing that you stood in front of my store for three minutes already,” Pansy replies. “Well, come in. I’m mending one of my pieces right now, but you can talk.”

Inside the backroom of Pansy’s store, she annoyedly snaps her thread with her teeth and rummages around in her box of threads. She chooses a gold thread and looks up. 

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Her eyes flash.

“No. You were the one who told me to come visit you from time to time. It’s not like there’s anything new to say,” I reply flatly. Pansy grabs a tiny diamond bead and starts sewing it on the shimmery black fabric of a dress.

“Did you know that she wore this dress?” Pansy asks after a long pause. 

“Hermione?” I ask, glancing at the dress again.

“To the War Anniversary ball a year ago. For twenty minutes before she got too worked up about you ignoring her letters and stormed your house,” Pansy answers dryly.

“Ah,” I say, slightly sheepish. “Is that how she lost some of the beads?”

“Yeah. It was partly my fault, because this is a vintage from the 1920s, and I didn’t sew on these beads correctly because it was a last minute job,” Pansy replies. “You know, she always goes running when she knows you’re hurt.” 

“You know, I think I’ve told you many times that I don’t want to talk about her,” I snap.

“You continued the conversation about her,” Pansy counters. “Why are you so scared to even fathom that she could care about you?”

“Because she doesn’t. Because she left. And because if I get my hopes up, it’ll hurt even more,” I grind out. 

“It’s your funeral, Draco. But when I came home to tell Harry to close the shop for me because I’d be staying with you, and he was with Hermione, the moment I said why, she bolted up and Floo’d to St Mungo’s,” Pansy says. She sews on another bead. 

“She’d do that for Weasley,” I reply softly. 

“Weasley and Granger—” Pansy cuts herself off and shakes her head. “She’s back. Go talk to her. You two deserve that at least.” She mutters something darkly under her breath about oblivious, stubborn asses before she looks up, surprised that I’m still here. “If you’re just going to stand around, go get me some tea,” she sighs. “Make yourself useful.”

After a couple hours of making myself useful, I walk out of Pansy’s shop, arms laden with packages for delivery, another one of her chores. After sending the packages off, I sigh and lean against the brick wall outside Pansy’s shop. She’s back. Go talk to her. I groan and bang my head against the wall. You two are a pair of oblivious, stubborn asses. I bang my head back against the wall again. She always goes running when she knows you’re hurt. The hardest thump yet. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned closer, almost as if—

“I told you to stop doing that,” says a voice. My eyes fly open, and I already know who I’m going to see. Brown curls, Muggle “denim,” sparkling brown eyes, and that honey voice. 

“Gra—Granger,” I stammer. 

“Don’t call me that, it reminds me of our Hogwarts years,” she rolls her eyes, that same sarcasm that I remember from a year ago. “I thought we were on a first name basis.”

And just like that, it’s like no time passed. “Okay, Hermione, sorry I’m a little rusty after not talking to you for a year.” 

“Oh, Draco, our relationship is forever,” Hermione grins. 

“Ah yes. You were my therapist,” I remark. That was all we were, right? Just say something to prove what I’ve known this entire time. “Very touchy feely.”

“If we’re being accurate—” Hermione pauses for my long sigh at her catchphrase, right on cue— “I was your reformation counsellor, meant to help your smooth transition into post-War life!”

“Quoted that from the handbook, did you?” I grin and gesture for her to walk with me. 

“Of course. Never go anywhere without it. And I never say anything without good proof,” she adds. 

“You said a lot of things,” I say quietly. “You said that you’d never get on a broom—”

“You were a good teacher,” Hermione shrugs. “I taught you so much Muggle culture, so you just returned the favour. The polite thing to do.”

“You said that you would force me to let you do your job, but I just ended up telling you anyway,” I say.

“On you, not me,” Hermione shrugs. “I just gave it a little time. After the War Anniversary incident, things progressed fast enough for me to not Bombarda my way into your house.” 

“Oh, please, my wards wouldn’t let you,” I scoff. “You tried.” 

“Maybe I’ve been practising. But try again. What have I said without good proof?” Hermione’s eyes dart up at me with a clear challenge.

“You said you’d write,” I say, voice unwavering but much too soft. She catches it. That’s how she was such a good counsellor. How she was able to know everything without me needing to tell her. 

“I’m sorry. I—Blaise told me that you didn’t let anyone talk about me, so I thought you didn’t want to hear from me. I thought I made a mistake in—” she sighs. “Caring. Too much.”

I don’t know what that means. For the brightest witch of her age, her words are suddenly cryptic. “I think I cared too much as well.” There. That kind of strategic wording that I’ve learned all my life.

“Yeah?” I don’t know when we got so close, but the setting sun sets her hair on fire, and her eyes sparkle. I’m painfully reminded of sunset in my garden, brushing dirt off her cheek, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear and the way her eyes fluttered shut before she got a patronus from Weasley and hurried off. I step away. She’s engaged. Or maybe married. Or maybe—

“How’s Weasley doing?” I ask. “I know it’s late, but congratulations.”

“For what?” she asks, puzzled.

“The engagement? I honestly haven’t been keeping up with the society pages, but Parks told me,” I say. 

“Oh!” Hermione gasps. “We broke up a while ago. Amicable. We agreed that we’re better off as friends and neither of us wanted to throw ten years away.” She shrugs.

So maybe her “caring, too much,” was not just a friendly sentence. Maybe—

“Are you free after this? For dinner?” Another cryptic sentence that I can’t puzzle out. I’m tempted to just ask her outright, but I can’t bear to lose her having just found her again.

“Sure. I know a place,” I tell her. And I wish that this night would never end.

“So you’re telling me that Pansy broke your wards on Valentine’s Day, left pink hearts and cupids everywhere, shoved Blaise into the bed with you and left?” she’s laughing, head tossed back as we stumble into the street. There’s the evidence of the two bottles of wine that we drained on her wine-dark lips.

“She thought I was lonely—” I roll my eyes, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. 

“Aww, have you been lonely ever since I left?” she asks jokingly. My eyes soften at the sparkle in her eyes.

“Yes,” I answer truthfully. “Honestly, yes. I missed you. Even though I heard your voice every day that year—”

“My radio program?” she asks incredulously. 

“I tuned in every day,” I admit. “It was like you were there, but not.” I huff out a laugh. “Until you left for Romania without any warning.” 

“I can’t believe you listened to all of my programs!” She flushes even more. “That’s so…”

“Well you accomplished your mission,” I shrug. “To use your influence to help people. You helped me. And your fans.”

“You were my hardest case.” She bumps my shoulder. “I guess I cracked you.”

“You melted me,” I laugh. “When I saw you today, I thought I was hallucinating you from looking at your pictures in the Prophet too much. Just another fan.”

“Who would’ve thought that you would’ve become my biggest fan,” Hermione muses. 

“Who would’ve thought that you’d still be such a pure hero after all these years,” I tease. 

“You think I’m pure?” Hermione asks, voice going low. She blinks up at me from under those feathered eyelashes, gaze shifting into something hotter. 

“I think you could have such filthy thoughts,” I whisper. “I haven’t seen proof yet.”

“Ever the perfect researcher,” she whispers back, hooking an arm around my neck and pulling me down into a kiss. It’s everything I thought it would be in full colour, the swipe of her tongue over my lips, her fingers clutching the hair at my neck. I pull her closer to me, teeth scraping over her lip as she shudders. I smile against her mouth, pushing her against the wall.

“You started this,” I breathe, pulling my fingers through her curls, tangling them further. I pull away, resting my forehead against her, breaths synchronising. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since Harry cut his finger off and Ron patronused me to come and fix it,” Hermione breathes. I look down at her flushed cheeks, kissed lips and mussed hair and I smile.

“I’ve been wanting to do that in some capacity since I met you,” I laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I look up at the stars, finding Sirius and Andromeda and Draco like Hermione taught me. Dusk is setting in, light from the lively shops streaming into the street. I look over at Hermione Granger and smile. The sky is endless, and I hold the world in my arms. 

[gross-text-adventures]

Karkat: Press button ==> POOR BEHAVIOR

Karkat: Press the Poor Behaviour Button

A few things happen quickly after Karkat nudges the button labelled 'poor behaviour'. First, the segmented display ticks down to '00'. Second, the green-lit buttons change to having red lights, and the red-lit buttons change to green.

Third, a previously hidden panel opens in the middle of the ceiling, disgorging a small tangle of robotic appendages and implements on flexible cables.

"Unable to identify child in facility database," a genderless voice announces from speakers that Karkat can't see. Is it talking about him? "Inferring poor behaviour from context."

"Unauthorised handling of facility technology: poor behaviour." Faster than he can react, the two most hand-like implements jab forwards and grab him by the elbows, lifting him a good few feet into the air like it's nothing. Another grabber plucks the remote from between his fingers, setting it exactly back in its place on the desk.

"Hey!" Karkat hates that he's ticked off enough to yell at a program, but he doesn't appreciate how grabby this thing is. "Put me the fuck down right now, I'm not a child!"

"Vulgar language: poor behaviour." From amid the cluster of yet-unused cables, one emerges with a small but wickedly gleaming blade at the end, moving through the air with an almost audible snick. Holy shit, is it going to cut his tongue out? He tries to shield his face, but his arms are held out from his sides; the only option left to him is to squeeze his eyes shut and keep his jaw closed.

Ssssssnick! shk-shk! k-snick!

Something's clearly being sliced, and thoroughly too, but Karkat doesn't feel so much as a nudge from the blade itself.

"Incorrect clothing for Daycare: poor behaviour."

…what?

Karkat slowly opens his eyes, and finds himself completely unmarked - though his clothes haven't fared nearly as well. His shirt and sweater are still in the process of floating to the ground, each cut from the hem up to the sleeves until they look more like ponchos. His shoes are so much sliced rubber and leather, pebble-sized chunks of them littering the floor. His socks are hard to see amidst the carnage, reduced to snippets of fabric. His jeans are now a handful of patches of denim on top of the whole mess, which two cables are now gathering into a small pile and sweeping to the side.

Karkat's body jolts in a delayed flinch, the troll doing his best to curl up as he realises he's been stripped down to only his underpants.

"W-what the fuck! Who gave you the right to fucking strip me!" He yells out, doing his best to crunch his stomach up until he can curl his legs over his crotch and middle. Even if there's only a computer program watching him, being so vulnerable chafes almost as bad as the hands on his elbows.

"Further vulgar language: further poor behaviour." The voice remarks flatly. "Correct clothing will be given before naptime begins. However, pre-nap discipline must be administered first."

"And what the hell does that mean?" The more this thing criticises his swearing, the more inclined Karkat is to cuss loudly and often, out of spite. Instead of censuring him again, the hands holding him up rotate him to face the corner that previously held the circular rug.

That rug is gone now, rolled up and stood in the corner to reveal a more obvious panel in the floor, which is now opening up. Something rises from within it, coming into the light until the patch of floor it sits on is flush with the carpet surrounding it, giving no sign anything has moved.

What the fuck is that?

PADDLING BENCH | HIGH CHAIR | OTHER

GO BACK

[pyr0-kai]

My Son Is friends with the monster under his bed…

(Original creepypasta | Horror)

One shot story

Word Count - 1077

Constructive Criticism welcome!

My son is 6 and we call Rocky. He's always been a strange kid, not interested in other kids, or recess activities. Rocky has always been a bit of a recluse, always preferring to stay his his room and do his own thing. Which is okay, he follows all the house rule, does his chores, and eats dinner with the rest of the family. My husband removed the lock on his door, just incase we need him, but Rocky doesn't mind it.

Lately, rocky has been mentioning more and more about a monster under his bed. I always go along with his stories and ask if he needs help getting rid of the monster. But he always says

"No! Momma, its a nice monster, he protects me momma"!

I just laugh a bit and go along with it. Lately though, he has been talking alone in his room a lot while laying on the floor, head turned towards the bed. My husband always seems to toss it up as "kids will be kids"! It just seems more concerning than that to me...

    Later that week, my work shift was changed to early mornings, 6 a.m through 2 pm. This ment I had to get up around 5. Getting up that early, gave me the shivers, especially walking past Rocky's room. Almost every night, growling or somewhat of deep voice can be heard coming from his room. When I quietly peek into there though, all sound stopped, but his soft snores.

After a week of those sounds, I felt like I was crazy. I pulled Rocky aside after dinner Friday night, and asked him "When it's bedtime, do you hear noises"?

"Yeah Momma, thats just spike! He lives under the bed and protects me when I go to bed" His smile was adorable, but I was still filled with dread.

"Your imaginary monster friend, Rocky?"

"No Silly! He is real" Rocky Giggled. "He wears a lot of black and shadows, but I can see him, it just takes focus".

"Well, can you tell spike to go away? Your Dad and I will protect you, trust me hon".

"Oh I know you and Dad protect me! I love you two! Spike is my friend though, and you guys are asleep at night, he watches in the night! He also can't leave, something about being a ghost tethered to the house? I didn't quite understand".

"We love you too Rocky", and thats where I left the conversation, not wanting to prod too much out of a six year old boy. From that night on, before I left for work, I peeked into his room, and tried to look underneath his bed, the best I could. One Night, at about 5:30 am, I did my usual check up in Rocky's room, and I swear, deep red, almost black orbs for eyes made eye contact with me. When I blinked, they were gone. It put me even more on edge

Everything seemed the same, for a week or so, until one day, after work. I was watching the news with my husband, and there was a segment on a string of robberies on our street, as well as a few over, they're suspected to be all linker to one criminal. The criminal looked like a dollar store version of Pedro Pascal, face scars and scraggly hair. My husband made sure all the doors and windows were locked last night. Later I realized a horrible foresight.

My husband and I were cuddling and trying to fall asleep at about 11:15 PM, when we were jolted awake to what sounded of screaming, thrashing, and a wet splatter sound coming from down the hallway. My Husband grabbed the handgun from under his side of the bed and quickly loaded it as I grabbed the baseball bat on my side. We both dashed down the hall, and looked at each/other with fear in our eyes as quiet gurgling could be heard, as well as a strong coppery vile smell, coming from Rocky's room.

My husband kicked the door open, gun pointed out, but he dropped it in shock. The robber from the news, laid there, in a pool of his own blood. Even worse, "Spike", the "monster under his bed stood, almost floating, next to Rocky's bed. It was a tall cloaked being, wearing a black hooded cloak, with holes where spikes ripped through. The thing seemed to be made of a black smoke like substance. It was holding the robbers heart in its left hand. Showing the heart to Rocky. He seemed to show no signs of fear. My husband picked up his gun and pointed at Spike "Hey! Do not hurt my son! I shoot"!

"Oh-ho! Don't worry. This man (pointing at the dead criminal) was trying to hurt you son, (It gestured at hand marks on Rocky's neck) not me. That man was Jaxon Smith. A notorious robber and child abuser, as well as the previous owner of this house. He Murdered me In this very room, He was my father. My mother fled in fear, while I vowed my revenge, to only leave when I have earned some form of justice. This action was my sweet justice. Your son, is the sweetest little boy i've ever met. He tells me everything, especially how much he loves his parents. I couldn't let anything bad happen to him. Now I have my freedom to pass on, but I will still be watching over you, in the life above. Thank you". Spike smiled at Rocky, then snapped it's fingers on its right hand. It vanished in a cloud of smoke, taking the criminal's remains with it.

None of the 3 of us slept that night. We stayed home for the next 2 days, just being together, and watching cartoons. Just being in each-others company.

That event was a month ago. Every so often, little gifts have been randomly left around, lost items have shown up, or one of us stands in front of a mirror, Spike sometimes appears and gives a sharp toothed smile, and waves, I always wave back to the one who saved not just my son, but my whole family. Even though It was traumatizing, my son helped convince me that now, Spike is like a guardian angel over us, and I will always be thankful for that.

[jinlias]

1 & 3 smut w/ ryu?

ryujin’s caught you many times today shamelessly staring at her. she didn’t even participate in any games, she was just there to keep the five of you company and cheer you on through the segments. you knew it this morning too, but that still couldn’t stop you from wanting her.

“what about me in a big t-shirt and sweat suit makes you so wet?” she chuckles brushing her hair next to you in bed. your legs on her lap.

“you’re hot” you reply, sitting up and landing mere centimeters from her face “plus you look so pretty without makeup, im glad we finally have an event where you’re barefaced”

“so my face, without makeup, which you see at least once a day, makes you horny?” she chuckles and you nod, pouting. you take advantage that she’s turned to you to ask the question, and gently cup her face with your hands, trapping her lips in a soft kiss.

“I want you so bad” you whine, meeting her lips for another kiss, one where she lets go of the hairbrush and allows you to climb onto her lap before placing her hands on your waist.

“yeah? show me” she replies, a sinister smile on her lips, reciprocating the kiss you begin while searching for her hand with one of yours, the other quickly undoing the bow of your sweatpants.

ryujin hums when you dip her hand in your underwear, her fingers quickly realizing how much slick there is. she chuckles and pulls away from your lips, only to hold eye contact with you while she sucks the wetness off her fingers, quickly returning her hand to its previous spot, only this time she dips her middle finger to spread your slick around

“if i help you” she begins, her digit grazing with your bundle of nerves, making your body jolt and you gasp, eyes stuck on her lips like a dumb puppy. “you’ll behave? no jealousy fits or being bratty?”

“mhm”

“promise me, princess” ryujin’s fingers won’t move until you’ve complied

“i promise daddy”

“good girl” she pecks your neck, jaw and lips, finally letting a finger slide between your folds, easily making its way inside you before she starts to quickly pump it in and out, the heel of her hand grazing against your clit providing you such delicious friction that she watches your eyes roll back as you hump her hand.

you moan repeatedly and what you consider decently, not too loud or too low, and she keeps this cocky smirk the entire time she fucks you, because she knows just what angle and the timing necessary to make you crumble in her hold, and she uses every bit of it to her advantage, bringing you close just to stop and go back slowly. but contrary to her wishes, she has to speed her movements a bit when yeji roughly knocks on your door and yells

“five minutes!!“ she smirks at you again, this time cocking her head to the side as if to say ‘you heard her, hurry up’

and you grasp on to the tiny bit of permission she gave you, holding the back of her head when she dips to suck on your chest, creating marks that will be very visible tomorrow and very hard to hide when you have to wear your usual skimpy stage outfits.

“there you go baby, i’ve got you” ryujin rubs her hand up and down on your back when you cling to her, and instead of fingering you through your orgasm, lets the pads of her digits rub quick, harsh circles on your clit, making your orgasm more intense, the kind that makes your body hot all over and causes ringing in your ears. “poor baby, looks like you’ll have to wear your ruined panties to the event”

yet none of that worked, because you did end up getting jealous at how other girls were looking at her, and you were being a bit bratty to her by the end of the day, avoiding her, clinging onto guy friends knowing she despised it, or hanging out with idols she claimed wanted to fuck you, making it difficult for her to keep her composure around your colleagues. all everyone sees is ryujin rubbing her neck in frustration, one hand on her waist as she stands at least five feet from you every moment.

[themorningsunshine]

Light in the midst of the darkness

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warning - Sad, some wounds, Hydra 

Series Masterlist 

Next part

Summary - Sometimes he thought she was a segment of his imagination, a figure conjured up by his mind for a sense of peace among his tormentors. Why else would somebody as pure as her will be at Hydra? But then he realised the imagination of his broken mind could never be so beautiful. 

a/n - I want to convert this into a series because this idea just enthralls me but as I am new on tumblr, I am not so sure. So, please let me know if you would like to read more of it. 

He hated them. Much more than any human could hate another. When the guard with the guns stuck up to his body, barged in his room - cell, he knew what was to come and it didn't matter how many times he had gone through with it, it didn't help. It still hurt, extremely. He still begged them with his eyes to stop. They still didn't.

 Bucky didn't know how long he had been in hydra for. How many years or even decades  he had spent locked up or sent to ruthless missions. How long has it been since the doomed day he fell from that train into the hands of hydra, which he wished with all his might had been the arms of death. He didn't know how they had kept him for so long, because to him, it felt like a lifetime. He didn't know much at all. 

But if there was one thing he knew for sure was that he hated that chair. It was painful, the electricity jolting through him and everytime he prayed to whatever god was up there that it would kill him, but it never did. He felt like an empty slate after that and Bucky didn't know what was worse, the pain or the aftermath. The exhilirating jolt of electricity or the feeling of being soulless. Of having nothing of his own, not even some memories, not even a name to pin to the person he sometimes saw staring back at him through the mirror. 

 He knew it would be the same that time too. When the guards took him to that room, when he saw that doctor standing there with that grin on his face, as if he was pleased to see whatever was happening to him.

When he was strapped to the chair and the metal pierced through his wrists, Bucky closed his eyes. He wanted to remember as much as he could till his mind was still his. He saw Steve, waving at him through a garden. He also saw his mother, grinning from ear to ear as she saw him coming back home. 

 His train of thoughts was interrupted by a voice from outside. But it wasn't the clanging of metal as he had expected, it was something else. Somebody had entered the room and Bucky was grateful that he had a moment more before the torture began. 

But the voice spoke up, " Doctor Flinch, General has been asking about you." The voice was a woman's. Bucky was sure he had never heard it before. It wasn't harsh, stiff or cold like most of the voices he had heard before, it was soft, even delicate but Bucky still hadn't open his eyes yet. 

 "But the soldier needs to be taken care of. Can't exactly leave him here." The ruthless doctor replied. Bucky hated his voice, mostly because he knew what exactly 'taken care of' meant. 

"It's okay, I've got this." There came that voice again, but Bucky now knew she wasn't any different. It was the same all over again. 

 "You're sure? The soldat can be dangerous." Bucky flinched at this. How easily could hydra make him look like the dangerous one.

 "It's alright. It will be like a practice session before my assignment begins next week."  She replied and the doctor finally gave in and walked out. 

Bucky clenched his teeth to prepare for the contact when he heard the clinging of the metal but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes and realised his wrists had gotten free now.

 He looked around the room to realise it was mostly empty until his eyes landed on the woman standing behind the controls. She pushed another button and his legs were free. 

 Bucky was extremely confused now. In different circumstances, he would have left the chair as soon as he could. But this time, he didn't. He just looked at the woman until she looked up and her eyes met his. Then, the most unexpected thing happened. She smiled at him. 

It wasn't the kind of smile doctor Flinch had given him when he had entered the room, it was a kind smile. She was actually smiling at him. And god, did she look pretty. 

 "Sargeant, could you please get up from that chair?" Bucky almost looked back to see who she was talking to. But it would have been stupid. Of course she was talking to him, there was no one else there. But why was she being so polite? Her voice was so gentle now, it made the voice she used for the doctor sound like a hoax. 

 But Bucky just got up from the chair and stood there while she took out a chair from the corner of the room and kept it at the centre. She took out a small bag, Bucky didn't notice she was carrying and kept it on the desk beside the chair. 

Bucky frowned at her. What was she doing? This had to be a cruel game.

 Then, she motioned for him to sit down on that chair, it didn't feel like an order, it was like a request, one that he could refuse but Bucky listened to her and sat down.

She took out a bandage from the bag and put some liquid on it. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky couldn't help but ask. He flinched at how hoarse his voice sounded and he realised he hadn't used his voice much in a long time except for screaming. 

 "I am going to put a bandage on your wrist and your forehead. Are you okay with it?" Bucky frowned at her as if she was speaking in a language he couldn't comprehened.

 "Are you not going to strap me to that chair?" 

"No, why would I?" She asked as if that was a foreign thought. Bucky paused for a moment as he connected the dots. He understood what she was tryint to do but he didn't know why. Why would she do this for him? 

 "You lied to him about the general, didn't you?" This was the most Bucky had spoken in a very long time but it didn't feel wrong. It almost felt right.

 She chuckled and shrugged her shoulder. "I guess I did."

Bucky didn't say anything again as she dabbed the cotton ball with the liquid and brought it towards him. "This is going to hurt a little. Let me know if you want me to stop." 

 Bucky almost lost it at that. Who was she? Why the hell was she talking to him like this? 

 She brought the cotton towards him slowly and dabbed it gently on his forehead. After a second, she stopped and looked at him, seeing if he was okay and he didn't have the heart to tell her that he was almost numb to it. He had seen much worse. 

When she didn't face any resistance, she continued dabbing his forehead with the cotton and then put a bandage on it. Her touch was so light and soft, Bucky didn't realise she was touching him until she stopped. 

 "And that is done, Sargeant. Do you need anything else? Any other wound that hurts?"

 Well, there was a wound. Too deep to be healed by her, or anybody. So, Bucky just nodded his head in a no. 

 She then took a step back and gave him a bright smile as if appreciating him. "Thank you for your cooperation. Many people run at the first sight of that." She said pointing towards the bottle of some medicine which she had used.

 Bucky tried to not pay any heed to her statement and instead said, "He is going to find out you lied." 

She scrunched up her nose as if the mere thought of the doctor or the general disgusted her. "Yeah, maybe I should have thought for a better lie." 

 Then a silence fell upon them as she packed up the things back into her bag. Bucky followed her every movement as if anticipating an attack.

 Just as she was done packing, the door opened and a guard walked in. He looked at her and she nodded her head telling him it's done and gave him a smile, which Bucky knew was forced because he had just seen how her genuine, bright smiles looked like. An image he wouldn't willingly forget. 

The guard walked towards him and nudged him with his gun. This was the treatment Bucky was used to. So, he just got up and walked towards the door. The guard didn't notice the bandage on Bucky's forehead because most of the people here were too afraid to look him in the eye.

 Bucky glanced once at the doctor and saw how she looked at the guard with pure disgust as if she could slit his throat if given the chance. But when her eyes met Bucky's, they turned soft and she slightly waved at him. As Bucky walked out of the chambers, cold air hit him.For the first time in what seemed like forever, the doctor chambers had felt warm. 

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Gossip

TW: Mentions of Cheating, mentions of nsfw.

Clarabelle loves gossip.

That's a fact eveyone knows. She's always trying to find something new to keep the audience interested, even relying on questionable sources. When it's juicy enough she had to show if off at the House of Mouse. She tries hard to get the latest bit, from interviewing to going out to see look for one herself, much to her luck she found the greatest peice of gossip she had ever seen.

And couldn't bring herself to show it at the club.

Clarabelle smoothed down her dress and straighten the papers in her hand. Her segment is about to start soon, and she can't shake off her nerves.

It all started earlier this morning, she was out searching for new gossip, unfortunatley no luck. After a few hours she went to a nearby cafe to rest and think of a new strategy, she sipped her coffee, deep in thought on what she should do. The audience were getting tired of her old news, and it wasn't helping that Mortimer was making things worse, she needs new material soon and fast. Suddenly, she heard the chimed of the bell, signalling new customers were entering, she glanced at their direction and did a double take.

There were two familiar faces, smiling happily and chatting and tugging the arms of their companions, their companions also seemed to have a conversation of their own and occasionally patting their heads. Clarabelle knew the first two, how could she not when they're the most famous princesses in Toontown. But the problem was their companions.

She released a deep sigh. It had to be a misunderstanding right?

"… belle…Clarabelle!" The said woamn jolted at the sound of her name, she turned to see Minnie looking at her, concerned filled her eyes.

"Are you alright? You didn't respnd the first time I called you." She said.

"Oh! Y-Yes, everything is fine!" She threw her a smile to ease her worries. Minnie merely looked at her, unconvinced.

"And now Clarabelle!" Mike's voice called out. She inhaled deeply before going up on stage, once she took her seat she began to tell her audience about the latest happenings.

But everyone can see her heart wasn't in it. She lacked the energy, and her hands were shaking, they whisper among themsleves about her odd behavior, some threw her worried looks, especially when she flinched when she locked eyes on very princesses repsonsible for her behavior. Mickey and Minnie were backstage to see it all happening.

"What's going on with Clarabelle?" He asked frowning in concern, he never seen her like this.

"I'm not sure, she's been jumpy this whole evening. She didn't even hear me the first time I called her name." Minnie answered, staring at the gossip collumnist.

"If you have something good spit it out already!" Pain shouted, earning more shouts of agreement.

"Uh..uh." She clutched her papers in front of her like sheild as more voices demanded her to reveal what's eating her up.

"Fine." A familar deep voice spoke up. Jafar stood up and walked towards the stage, Clarabelle gulped deeply.

"If you won't tell us willingly, then I'll pry it out of you." He leered, waving his staff to her.

"Jafar wait!-" Mickey yelled, but it was too late she was hypnotized.

"Now." The sorcerer began. "What's the big news that you've been so nervous about."

"Earlier today I saw Ariel and Aurora on a date." She answered. Silence enveloped the enitre club, some cast their eyes at the said princesses who appeared confused.

"And? That doesn't expalined your recent behavior, what did you really see."

"They were on a date with other men."

Loud gasps erupted from everyone. They all gawked at the two, never in their life they imagine this happening, however the shock wouldn't compare to the hurt both Eric and Philip gave to their respective wives.

"A-Ariel…" Eric stammered.

"My love…?" Philip looked close to tears.

"Philip, you know I would never!" Aurora objected, slightly hurt to think her husband would think of her this way.

"Eric, I sacrificed so much to be with you." Ariel was so close to crying.

"Ohhh, now this is interesting." The former vizier smiled at this, now he wanted more.

"Did you see who were they're dates?"

"Yes." His smiled broaden.

"Who?"

"It was Maleficent's and Ursula's minions."

Everyone sucked in a breathe and slowly turned to the recruits table. Ever since the villains failed to take over the House of Mouse last halloween, they brought their recruits from time to time and sometimes they come in their own free will, it got to the point they need they're own table.

Both Joe and Malfie flinched when they were mentioned, just as shocked at the revelation. Half of the club was glaring at them, disgusted of they're supposed behavior, but nothing beat the death glares from both Philip and Eric.

"Damn, who knew you two turn into homewreckers." Jack commented at the shocked duo. Even the other recruits were shocked.

"We don't even like them!" Joe heatedly protested.

"I was too busy with my beautiful master to be anywhere near a cafe." Malfie defended, eyes never leaving his mirror.

"Are you guys suuuuree." Farja pressed on.

"ENOUGH!" Triton boomed. It was silent once again his eyes roamed to his daughter to Eric and finally glared at Joe.

"My daughter would never indulge such dispicable behavior, this must be a lie!" He thundered.

"Unfortunately for you, I just demanded the simple truth. I'm sure the mouse can confirmed it." Jafar smiled smugly at him and turned his attention to Mickey, so did everyone else.

He had to count backwards to calm himself, how did it turned into this? Taking a deep breathe he answered.

"I'm sorry, King Triton but he's right."

The king gritted his teeth but sat down. Silence overtook the club again, trying to process what just happened. Aurora stared down at her hands, wondering what was happening, meanwhile Ariel just silently sobbed questioning why was this happening to her. Eric finally stood up, the mermaid lifted her head to her spouse.

"I think it's time we leave." He muttered, gently pulling Ariel to her feet, the redhead nodded. Philip and Aurora followed shortly after,

"W-Well, that's it for Clarabelle's daily gossip." Mike announced, trying th quell the awkward atmosphere. It was that time Jafar finally let go of his hold on Clarabelle, the poor woman alsmost stumbled out of her seat so Minnie had to escort her.

Mickey bit hs lip as he stared at the chaos that was happening, hopefully it was a misunderstanding and blow over by tomorrow.

Right?

Unfortunately it did not. It got worse, some of the toons began to see it too. For the past few days, they've been seeing glimpses Ariel and Aurora in dates with Joe and Malfie. No one wanted to believe and a few try to talk to them but they always managed to escape their vision.

The princesses were a mess, Aurora cried hot tears and her fairy godmothers comforted her, knowing she would never do such a thing. Philip was called by his father to discuss leaving her to in their room.

"I-I w-would never!" The blonde sobbed.

"It's alright dear we know." Fauna comforted.

"It has to be a mistunderstanding." Flora added, rubbing her back.

"Oh, just till I get my hands on those people." Merryweather started, she was convinced there was someone impersonating as Aurora to ruin her image and marriage. The blonde princess hope that was the case.

Meanwhile, Ariel locked herself in her room, crying her eyes out. She refused to see anyone, except Sebastian.

"Ariel, I know you. You would never do something like this, you worked so hard to be with him."

Eric was out in sea, to clear his mind and calm his heart. He didn't want to believe it too, but he told her he needed space.

Soon enough, Ariel and Aurora refused to come to the House of Mouse, to avoid both the gossip that surrounded them and the their villains' minions.

Speaking of them, they have the worse time. Everywhere they go, riducule followed them and occasionally get thrown things at them.

Malfie had to be put on house arrest due some of nearby towns trying to hunt him for 'tainting their princess.' Joe had to suffer from all the other mermaids trying lure him out of Ursula's cave to fight him as well as avoiding contact in land. Not only that, they had to be suspended from work due to their now controversial reputation. Thankfully, the other recruits managed to believe them that they didn’t do it, it took Jack and Farja a long time to convince but they came around and defended them from other’s ridicule.

It got to the point where Ursula and Maleficent had to defend they're own recruits. Not for them, it was for they're image, they may be villains but they wouldn't sink that low.

So overall both parties were were in difficult position.

Mickey dragged a hand down his face, wondering how it managed to get at this point. Everyone in the House of Mouse were talking about them and debating if it was true or not. One side it was true cause they saw themselves, others say not cause they would never, it was a mess.

He was out downtown walking Pluto and to think of a way to prove their innocence. There has to be something that everyone was missing, but what?

His stomach answered for him, the large growl surprised him and making him remember that he forgot to eat breakfast because Pluto was too eager for a walk. Spotting an outdoor cafe, he tied up Pluto's leash and went inside. He sniffed the air and sighed at the delightful scent of pastries and other baked goods, his eyes scanned the small cafe and spotted the cause of his problems.

They were enjoying a meal and seemed to be having a good time, unaware the conflict and turmoil they started. Mickey took a good look at them and once he heard them speaking he understood now.

------------------

"Thanks for coming everyone!" Mickey greeted his audience. He noticed some where still tensed from the whole situation, time to clear things up.

"Now before we can get started. I would like Ariel, Aurora, Joe and Malfie to come at the stage."

Everyone's eyes widen at that, they saw the four people that had been the subject for gossip for days come up. Ariel and Aurora looked worse for wear, they're eyes were red from crying and had some bags underneath, while Joe and Malfie just glared back at scowling faces. Truthfully, none of them wanted to be here but Mickey told them he has something to clear they're names.

"As you know, there has bene speculation and rumors about them-"

"Rumors!? I saw it with my own eyes mouse! Those girls are cheating!" Shenzi howled. Ariel and Aurora flinched at her words, while Joe growled and Malfie frowned.

"Me too, I saw blondie and bird brained heading into a hotel." Mortimer jeered, he gestured to Aurora.

"She was all giggly to him and kept hugging his waist, and he kept on smiling at her, and kept his hand on her ass.”

Everyone gasped at the revelation while Aurora and Malfie were baffled.

"I did no such thing!" She snapped.

"I was with my mistress the entire time!" Malfie shot.

"Now settle down." He waited for them to be quiet, when that didn't work he blew a hard whistle that shut them up.

"Thank you, now back to the main topic. I have some good news for everyone, that none of those rumors are true!"

Once again everyone was silent, registering what he said. Ariel smiled broadly at the revelation and Aurora could cry tears of relief. Joe muttered 'finally' under his breathe and Malfie sighed and took out his mirror, and stared at his reflection.

"How can you be sure?" Someone challenged, he just smiled.

"You guys can come out now!"

This raised a few eyebrows, who was he calling?

Four figures were entering the stage and everyone gasped.

They looked exactly like them, but with a few differences. They were dressed more casually and modern, what’s more is that the Ariel look a like was hugging the Joe look a like’s waist and the other Aurora held the other Malfie’s hand.

The first four blinked at the sight, never expecting this.

They’re other selves smiled awkwardly at the crowd before them, girls waved at them.

"As you can see it's been all one big misunderstanding. What Clarabelle first saw was them on they're double date." Mickey explained.

The Ariel look a like came forward.

"We're super sorry for the misunderstanding! We really didn't know!"

The other Aurora came forward too.

“If we known something like this was happening, we would have say something sooner.”

Meanwhile, Minnie, Daisy and Clarabelle were watching from backstage.

“I am so embarrassed right now” Clarabelle groaned as she buried her face in her hands.

“Don’t be like that. “ Minnie comforted.

“Yeah, they looked so alike. So it just a simple mistake.” Daisy added, she was still surprised on how much they all look like each other. It was almost scary.

“Now that that’s settled, introductions are in oder.” Mickey nodded to the other Malfie who stepped forward.

“Hi everyone, I’m Malachite.” He gave them a smile and wave. To those who knew Malfie were stunned at his casual greeting, no proclamations on how handsome he is or anything about Maleficent, or even bringing out a mirror. The other Aurora stood next to him.

“Hello, I’m Elodie. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Her smile was the same as Aurora, and for a moment they thought she was. Until she hugged Malachite’s waist.

“Hiya, I’m Misty!” She was as energetic as Ariel and bounced a bit, but it was put to a stop when the other Joe wrapped his arm around her.

“I’m Joe, what’s up?” He was no different from their Joe but he seemed more lax.

“Ariel!/My love!” Two voices shouted.

In blur, both Eric and Philip ran on stage, picked up their respective wives and hugged them tightly, they returned the sentiment crying tears of joy. The pain they felt for days was finally over. Joe and Malfie stood awkwardly as they watch the display of affection.

Elodie and Misty shared a look, walked over to their boyfriends, and gave them a deep kiss. This stunned everyone, especially they’re look a-likes.

“Hey! Don’t forget about us!” A voice shouted from the back. Storming on stage were another version of the villains recruits and Snow White and Alice.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content for Obey me and Twst. I’m working in them I promise, so right now enjoy this. I’m getting back to the villain recruiters fandom and have an AU for it

Tagging: @blackbutlerfandomnerddomain, @jinxthejubilee

[apixrl]

DROWSY.

levi ackerman x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.4k

song: before i close my eyes // xxxtentacion

note(s): soft levi lives in my head rent free and that's perfectly okay he can stay for as long as he wants to

Your hand pressed against your back as you stretched, stifling a yawn that echoed through the hallway. You swore you could hear your joints wailing out in distress, every step feeling as though you were dragging a weight behind you that was five times your size. Your bed was calling out to you in more ways than you could count, the idea of snuggling under the covers absolutely heavenly.

It had been a long and tiresome day, to say the least. After waking up early and in bright spirits, you made the decision to go on a long morning jog. To ready yourself for a presumably easy day. But those words came back to bite you when Captain Levi dropped you and your comrades into an intense training segment that lasted all morning. Then proceeded a heavy clean of headquarters in the afternoon. Ordered to rid the underside of the tables of dust and to clear those sneaky corners of muck that had festered far too long. To put a long story short; you were about ready to drop dead on the floor by the time evening rolled on by.

You loved Levi with all your heart, but unfortunately, your relationship with him didn't come with any bonuses. Yes, you saw a softer side on occasion, but the man never allowed bias to take over during work hours. You were treated the same as the others; a soldier in the ranks. A member of Levi's squad. When you did right you were praised and when you did wrong you served the consequences. Levi would set you on a thirty lap run around the camp perimeter if he saw fit, and there was no getting out of it. As much as you could complain, you knew it was for the best. When it came down to it, Levi was your superior as well as his partner and there had to be some line between the two.

Plodding along the hallway, your bedroom door up ahead was your saviour. You could practically taste the sweet rest waiting for you on the other side. Though just before you could reach your salvation, a voice from the neighbouring room stopped you in your step and tore you away from it.

"Y/N,"

Levi.

It would be lying to say you didn't whimper, so close to a good night's sleep yet so far all in one go. But you weren't so selfish that you'd ignore your lover's call because you were simply exhausted. Yes, you considered it... but resisting the urge gave you credibility, right?

Regardless, you exhaled a sigh knowing it would be wrong not to respond. That man you called your partner had ears like a cat anyway. He probably heard you make your way down the hall or noticed your shadow under the door and had sensed your halt upon his call. So dragging your eyes away from the vision of your wonderfully made bed (Levi having been the one to tuck the sheets in that morning since he was the last one up. So no wonder you were fantasizing at the idea of collapsing on there) behind the door of your room, you set your gaze on the door to Levi's office instead.

You realised it was open just a tad, explaining Levi sensing your approach so easily. Pressing your hands against the wooden frame, you pushed it open and popped your head around the door, forcing your eyes open no matter how much they pleaded to close against the candlelight.

As expected, Levi was seated at the chair of his desk. Neck-deep in papers that he'd been working on most of the night. One shorter pile to the left and a taller one to the right - one pile waiting to be looked at whilst the other sat completed. You wondered which one that was... and prayed for Levi's sake it was the tallest pile to allow him a good night's sleep.

His greyed eyes didn't look up upon your entry, something you just managed to notice through the strands of wispy black locks atop Levi's head. That seemed to indicate he was focused on the task at hand, especially from the way his hand efficiently worked at the pieces of paper like it was on autopilot.

"Yes, love?" You asked, resting against the door for a brief moment as your tiredness caught up with you. If you had reacted to it a second later you believed you would have tipped over from loss of balance, and you were relieved when Levi spoke up once more - his voice jolting you upright.

"I need you to take some papers down to the Commander for me," Levi stated, a certain tone in his voice indicating his own form of tiredness. But you knew that rarely stopped him and his work, the man willing to stay up until the early hours of the morning just to get it finished.

His words made your body panic, unsure if it could muster a journey all the way to Erwin's whereabouts. You had barely walked up the stairs of headquarters well, let alone travelling back down them and then all the way back up again.

"It can't wait until tomorrow?" You tried, chewing the inside of your cheek gingerly. From the way Levi glanced over his wad of papers, grey eyes filled with doubt, you knew it was a longshot. "It's just late, that's all. You need to rest,"

"No," Levi ceased all action, slouching down in his seat briefly as his fingertips held the bridge of his nose. His version of a short break and a way to bury his annoyance down. It appeared to be one of those nights, where he was swamped with work and didn't have the opportunity to simply 'head to bed'. "I'm still nowhere near done, and I don't have the time to take the ones I've already looked at to Erwin because of that," It was there his hand propped up, elbow resting on his other which has splayed over his chest. He motioned you over, eyes skipping between you and the seat opposite him until you got the message.

You were delayed in realising, feeling guilty at your inability to proceed Levi's words. You heard them, but fatigue seemed to seize hold and throw them out the window before your brain could comprehend the meaning. You hoisted yourself off of the doorframe, letting the hinges squeak the door shut behind you as you made your way to Levi's desk. You then sat yourself down, hands pressed to the chair arms as your attention steered to your partner.

"Okay... so which pile am I taking?" Was your question, forcing a small smile to at least seem interested. The black-haired man straightened up, eyes skimming over the papers on his desk and seemingly on the floor too. That made your brow raise, head tilting to the side ever so slightly in wonder. What was behind the desk?

Levi proceeded to push his chair back with his feet, his head quickly disappearing under the table as if to grab something. You rested your cheek in your palm as you waited, a hint of a frown as you waited. Your assumptions were correct as, after a few seconds of scuffling around, Levi reappeared from under the desk - standing up to place yet another pile of paper wherever his desk had the space to hold it.

"This one," He addressed, exhaling heavily once he was comfortable in his seat again. Just when you thought that was it, Levi pushed the taller pile of papers forward as well, and it would be wrong to say you were joyful of the sight. In fact, you were very much dismayed, the sight of the multiple piles of papers meaning more than one trip.

Suddenly you wished the shorter pile was the finished one.

"And this one," Levi spoke with little character as per usual, gazing upon the piles of papers like they were nothing more than a pile of dirt. Clearly, he had experienced little joy going through them, but work never got done whilst complaining. The only words ringing in his mind to convince Levi to get his head down and focus. "You'll probably need to take two trips,"

"You don't say," You commented and sighed to yourself. For hours you had awaited your mattress and now look at you, even further away from reaching it as before. It was a big shame you woke up in such an energetic mood and was ending the day feeling like you couldn't lift a finger. "And if I cant find Commander Erwin?"

"He should be in his office," Levi returned. "But if not, place the right pile on his desk," He then gestured to the left, hand pressing on top for emphasis. "This one will need sorting, however. Just separate the tags in the stack and the drawer they belong in is on there. It shouldn't take you too long, just make sure the files are in the right place or Erwin won't be pleased. Oh, and try not to drop them, please? I'd rather not lose four hours worth of work because of your two left feet -," Levi was cut short by a sound he was not at all expecting. A snorting noise caught him off guard, but when he looked up at you in question the answers quickly came pouring in.

It appeared in Levi's ramble you had grown bored. As there you were, head lolling forwards as your arm tried to prop it up, eyes closed and snoring away to your heart's content. Levi quirked a brow at your behaviour, then scoffed lightly. The man couldn't say he was surprised, of course you would nod off to sleep exactly when he needed your help. At a time where he was swamped with things to do and an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt.

"Y/N," He tried after a minute or so passed, Levi frowning at the lack of response. If anything, the snoring grew louder. It was there he tried again, a little more firmly and loudly but still, nothing.

Typical.

Levi sat there in silence and disbelief, watching your frame rise and fall with each intake of breath. Meanwhile, you simply slept on without a care in the world, but it's not like he could leave you there. Leaving you sleeping in such a way was bound to cause a nasty neck and backache the following morning. So with a sigh, Levi hoisted himself out of his chair and walked around his desk to your side. Then he knelt down to your level, hand landing on your shoulder to give you a gentle but firm shake.

"Y/N," Levi spoke, a little softer this time, all whilst trying to nudge you awake. It appeared you had only lightly nodded off, as, after three or four shakes, you stirred out of your little nap. Your eyes shot open to meet Levi's observing you closely, a hint of a frown to his face as he did. In your state you barely noticed though, too busy trying to shake off your drowsiness but failing miserably as your eyes merely drooped more.

"Levi?" You mumbled tiredly, lifting your gaze towards your lover, puzzled over why he was so close to you. "What is it?"

"You fell asleep," Levi said with hesitancy, glancing away from you for a second before he continued. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Yes... everything's fine," You reassured, sending him a reassuring smile. Levi narrowed his gaze, prompting you to keep going. "It's just been a long day, that's all,"

"I see," Levi nodded, noticing your lack of attentiveness and sleepy demeanour. All of which you tried to force back through your smile. But Levi knew you better than that. He could see straight through the façade just how you could see straight through his, acting as though you were fine when it was truly quite the opposite. That was enough for Levi to suspect something was up, and that little switch in his head that differed between his role as Captain and partner flipped in an instant.

"Sorry... y-you were saying something before I dropped off weren't you?" You asked and pointed to the papers on the table. "Something about them?"

Levi turned to look at where you gestured, seeing the papers that still needed taking to Erwin. He contemplated still asking for your help, but it was obvious from just the way you looked alone that you were long desperate for rest. So exhaling a small sigh, Levi reluctantly cast his gaze back onto you and shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it," He allowed his hand to leave your shoulder and moved it to your face. Where he tucked a few loose strands of your H/C hair behind your ear, continuing. "It can wait until tomorrow,"

"Are you sure?" You asked through a yawn, leaning into the hand that Levi proceeded to support your cheek with. The subtle graze of his thumb over your cheekbone relaxing you to the point sleep nearly stole you from him once more.

As much as he disliked tampering with his organised routine, Levi knew sending you on errands whilst so tired would do you no good the next day. Perhaps he had pushed you a little far without realising, the thought running through his mind later on in the morning. You'd been lagging behind your comrades more than usual. Much opposing to you typically being at the front of the group and urging them on over the other way around. Whilst it wasn't as obvious in the afternoon, the strain in your expression as you scrubbed the floors and countertops had peeked its way through to him. Levi knew you in and out, and the frustration displayed ran much deeper than that of germs and bacteria. That was blatant now more than ever, so the least you deserved was a good night's rest. Just because he could run on little hours of sleep didn't mean you could.

"Yeah," Levi admired you under the dim light of his office after he spoke. Your inattentive gaze somehow continued to hold such focus as you looked back at him. The way you smiled with such love and yearn. How your cheek felt warm in his palm like he was holding the entire world. Which he was really. He was holding his entire world.

"Oh... okay," You said and your eyes drooped shut, not reopening. That brought Levi to act, blinking out of his daze and pulling himself to his feet with a sharp inhale.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," He said and slipped his arms around you, lifting you into their secure hold. You didn't protest, too tired to make a sound as you adjusted to the new position. A comfier position that ensured security and safety. One hand supported your back as Levi's bicep acted as your pillow and his spare arm hooked under your legs. You could feel the ever so gentle thump of Levi's heartbeat close to your ear, much opposing to his regular temperament - curt and firm and even quite harsh at the most.

Levi carried you out of his office, using his foot to open the door as he proceeded to venture down the hall to your shared bedroom. The place you had been going to before you were called to his aid. You kept your eyes closed the entire time but didn't nod off just yet, the bobbing motion of Levi's walk both drifting and stirring you from sleep. It wasn't long before Levi was pulling back the sheets whilst he only just managed to hold you with one arm. You made it easier by wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, giggling lightly to yourself when you almost slipped. Somewhere in Levi's silence, he found it amusing. Perhaps not verbally placed, but you sensed it nonetheless. Still, he downplayed it with concern, his hand pressing against your back to hold you closely against his frame.

He placed you down with care, hand only leaving your back once it rested on the mattress. Sliding it out, it returned to the sheets as he placed them back over you. Meanwhile, you watched through half-lidded eyes, following where Levi's gaze trailed. Mainly sticking to the sheets he tucked in for you out of the goodness of his heart, though flickered back to you on occasion. His eyes contained a warmth that opposed their normal grey colour. A warmth that he usually failed to place into the spoken word and resorted to showing it rather than saying it.

Eventually, Levi finished, his hands stopping their skilful movement and pressing into the pillow on either side of your head. He was silent for a moment, observing your tiresome state and realising just how fatigued he was too. He battled the urge to collapse on the bed beside you, pull you into his arms and fall fast asleep. To ignore his duties for just one night. Give himself a treat and spend the night snoozing away like the everyday citizen. But Levi knew that was irresponsible. He had been irresponsible enough leaving the paperwork so late. It also wasn't the life he had been fated to lead, regardless of how pleasant the idea may be in the subconscious of his mind.

"I still have a lot of work to do," He uttered no louder than a whisper, exhaling deeply in an apologetic sigh and hating the idea of traipsing back to his office to work. "I'll have to join you later but I'm guessing you'll be asleep,"

"It's okay," You hummed, head tilting to the side as an innocent smile formed on your face. "Do I get a kiss good night, at least?"

Levi couldn't fight the small chuckle that escaped him, head proceeding to hang forwards and shake too and fro at your words. He truly felt he didn't deserve you and the love you gave him. Always so understanding, never complaining about his packed work schedule. How you made him feel steady and kept him sane. Perhaps it was because you were a soldier too and knew how time-consuming the job was, but Levi was grateful for all of it. The man met your eyes, a certain radiance in them that he'd refrain from showing to anyone else other than you.

"You're twenty-nine years old and you act like a child," He remarked with no ill intent, the laugh that elicited from you music to his ears.

"Yeah, and you chose to -," You were cut off, Levi leaning forwards to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You hummed in approval, forgetting the words you planned to say and instead enjoyed the display of affection. Levi lingered longer than usual, an indirect apology for the fact he had to leave you with the bed half cold. You didn't question it, knowing Levi's work never truly stopped and granted him a break. The fact he'd even paused just to tuck you in comfortably was enough to satisfy your needs, whether Levi would believe that or not was up to him. But your eyes fell closed, both from bliss and sleep catching up to claim control.

Gradually your lips loosened on Levi's, indicating you had nodded off. He opened his eyes and pulled back in question, watching your head tilt faintly to the side as your pillow held its weight. Levi exhaled deeply, leaning down to plant one final kiss on your forehead. Then he hoisted himself off of the bed and walked to the door.

"Good night, Y/N," He said once there, glancing back at you one final time. From where he stood, you appeared merrily at peace. Finally grateful for the embrace of your bedsheets after a dragging day of nonstop training. Levi did feel somewhat bad for being a cause for your tiredness, knowing that he could sometimes be cruel when playing his 'Captain' role. But he couldn't favour you just because of his feelings, and the fact you rarely made that an issue provided him relief like no other. Still, Levi's guilt asserted as he closed the bedroom door quietly behind him.

Why... it wouldn't be terrible if he let you sleep in a little bit past the wake-up call, would it?

[anoray]

May the Fourth Be With You

Oh, how I wish I could post a completed chapter for Spectre One Rises, but as that’s not yet possible, I hope this segment serves as a small offering on this special SW day!

The story had left off with Ezra hanging in the air courtesy of a peeved Force entity. This first awesome serpent-dragon artwork was found on https://www.deviantart.com/phoenixfireclaws  The second one I can’t seem to locate the creator. If I could mix these two together and add lots of eyes, it would provide an inkling of what has Ezra by the neck. :)

SPECTRE ONE RISES - CHAPTER 9 (Title forthcoming):

Ezra / Oroboros 2

Ezra thrashed wildly to escape the serpent-dragon’s chokehold, but it was as if the planet itself held him within its angry fist.

“Let him go!” Kanan yelled upward. “Ezra’s a Jedi!”

“Look in the Force!” Ahsoka jabbed her staff at Oroboros like an admonishing finger. “The one you seek vengeance on is dead!”

The Great Guardian flicked his forked tongue at her dismissively.

MY DESECRETOR WAS TOO CONSUMED BY HATRED AND FEAR TO LEAVE ANYTHING FOR DEATH TO TAKE.

The words thudded through Ezra’s mind like metal-heavy footsteps. Maul got chopped in half and lived. What if Palpatine was only hiding?

Ezra gagged as the Force grip on his neck clamped his windpipe shut. His pulse pounded in his ears, almost drowning out the shouts from below.

“Stop hurting him!” Kanan cried out, his hand raised in a plea. “Ezra’s not your enemy!

Oroboros hissed and steam swirled dangerously close to Ezra.

“Listen to us!” Ahsoka struck the butt of her staff against the rocky platform. “A terrible danger threatens our Galaxy and we need your help!”

Black spots danced at the edges of Ezra’s vision while his blockaded lungs burned for air.  His head flopped forward like a broken trooper doll and the ground seemed to stretch even further away from his dangling feet. Ezra shut his eyes to blot out the dizzying sight only to find two pinpricks of red piercing the darkness. The Son’s voice slithered through his fading consciousness and sent his heart hammering into overdrive.

Make this conceited, bloated worm pay for its insolence. It exists only to do our bidding!

The unnatural chill that prickled Ezra’s skin jolted a retort out of his oxygen-deprived brain. Easy for you to say--you’re not the one who can’t breathe!

He was rewarded with an impatient scoff.

Stop sniveling and let go. There can be no Middle without the Dark. Die in the worm’s grip now and everyone you love will perish.

The warning wove through Ezra’s fragmenting awareness. He’s right. The mission will fail if I’m dead. But if he let go, the Son could flow through him--and crush Oroboros into submission. And wasn’t letting go the exact lesson that Kanan and Ahsoka kept teaching him over and over? Ezra could use it now to save himself. To save the Galaxy.

Yes, Ezra Bridger. You are wise to trust me.

Ezra abruptly recoiled as the echo of a voice he’d first heard on Malachor vibrated through every cell of his failing body.

“You were wise to trust me.” Maul had coaxed and lulled Ezra into obedience with silken praise—all a ploy to steal the Sith Temple’s power and a new apprentice for himself. The scheme had failed thanks to Kanan and Ahsoka’s heroics, but the aftermath of Maul’s treachery had lingered like a poisonous fog that refused to lift.

No! I won’t let Kanan and Ahsoka down again!

Ezra gathered the last of his coherent thoughts and flung them at the Son as if they were grenades. You sense the future--you saw Oroboros attacking me because of your Darkness! And you’re using it to take me over before I need you!

Screeeeech!

The unmistakable cry of a convor pierced its way through Ezra’s muffled hearing and the sullen pinpricks of the Son’s eyes abruptly vanished.

“Morai!” Ahsoka’s call rang out with joy.

The chokehold on Ezra’s throat faltered slightly and he sucked in a ragged breath. It gave him just enough strength to open his eyes to a miraculous sight.

Morai soared out of the sky, her green and white feathers gleaming despite the sun’s weak light. The convor screeched again and dove directly between Ezra and Oroboros to perch gracefully on Ahsoka’s outstretched hand.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Ahsoka greeted their unexpected visitor with a smile. Kanan shifted closer to the duo, offering up a grateful nod of welcome.

Morai wrapped her flexible tail around Ahsoka’s forearm, then tilted her sharp gaze up to Ezra and Oroboros with an expectant screech.

Oroboros’s razor teeth rasped alarmingly before he released the Force grip on Ezra’s throat. Ezra immediately treated his starved lungs to deep gulps of air, no longer caring that it smelled worse than a hangar full of rotten eggs.

Keeping Ezra suspended in the air, the Great Guardian undulated his glistening coils closer to Ahsoka. He dipped his head in front of Morai in a respectful bow and twin curls of steam hissed from his nostrils.

MESSENGER OF THE ASHLA, YOUR PRESENCE IS A WELCOME HONOR.

Morai fluffed her feathers and hooted back a regal reply. Oroboros swiveled several clusters of his eyes toward Ezra and curled his lips in disdain.

THE SAME CANNOT BE SAID FOR THE BOGAN WHEN HE HIDES HIS FACE AND INTENT.

Ezra let out a startled yelp as Oroboros lunged upward and began sniffing him over with unnerving vigor.

ARE YOU HIS MASK… OR HIS PUPPET?

“I’m Ezra Bridger! Nobody controls me!” Ezra fired back just before his body started rotating like a skewered tip-yip beneath one of the enormous, relentless nostrils. Ezra tried to dodge the feelers dangling from the serpent-dragon’s scaly lips and failed miserably. I am so glad Sabine isn’t here to see this.

A flash of reflected light caught Ezra’s eye, and he tilted his head to see Zippy zigzagging cautiously toward the scene. Braruz’s other two holorecorder droids emerged from their own hiding spots among the steaming terraces to tag behind. Alarm bells went off in Ezra’s brain in a jarring reminder that Thrawn was on his way. And the Nihilum won’t be far behind.

“Hey!” Kanan bellowed from below, clearly on the same wavelength. “If you don’t step it up, Ezra will be the last of your problems!”

Oroboros froze Ezra in mid-turn to impale Kanan with a seething glare that even Hera couldn’t match.

Uh oh.

Whoooooosh! Ezra’s stomach lurched as air swept past him in a vortex that was sucked into the Great Guardian’s nostrils, then the massive jaws gaped open to blast out a jet of superheated steam. Ezra’s heart staggered back into beating when the deadly spray overshot Kanan and struck the incoming holodroids instead. The trio melted to slag instantly.

Ezra tried to swallow while the pitiful remains splashed into the prismatic pool, but his abused throat wouldn’t cooperate. Maybe I should’ve taken the Son up on his offer.

Oroboros snapped his teeth together in satisfaction—then divebombed directly at Kanan.

Ezra could only flail uselessly while Kanan sprang toward the peninsula that led away from the rocky platform. Oroboros dropped a translucent coil to block his retreat, snaking his head toward Kanan with a scornful flick of his tongue.

YOU DARE TO DECLARE YOURSELF THE GUARDIAN OF LOTHAL?

Kanan stopped short, his eyebrows snagged somewhere between surprise and alarm. Before his hand reached the hilt of his lightsaber, Morai flapped her wings and screeched.

“Kanan!” Ahsoka locked eyes with him and lowered her staff in a calming gesture. “The Jedi archives say that duality with a planetary guardian is very rare.” She gestured toward Morai, then back at Kanan. “Please let Oroboros confirm your bond is real.”

Kanan exhaled a wary breath and let his fingers drift away from his weapon. “Fine.”

As if we can stop him. Ezra felt like he was floating in a cloud made of pins and needles while the nearest of the serpent-dragon’s flaring nostrils inhaled Kanan’s scent from head to toe as if determined to find incriminating evidence.

“Hey!” Kanan snapped when Oroboros swayed his head to repeat the process with his other nostril. “That’s enough.” He shoved his way out of the dangling feelers like they were beaded cantina curtains.

Oroboros tucked his frill along his neck and studied Kanan with severe disapproval.

A GUARDIAN’S INCARNATION IS A MORTAL SCAFFOLD. NOT A PET TO BE INDULGED.

Kanan crossed his arms over his chest and glowered right back at Oroboros. Ezra frowned in the moment of tense silence, wishing he could hear Dume’s response for himself. Whatever the giant Loth-wolf answered, it made Oroboros rear back his head with a snort.

I ACKNOWLEDGE YOU, DUME OF LOTHAL…

Several rows of the serpent-dragon’s eyes narrowed into crescents as he peered at Kanan through the steam wafting from his nostrils.

BUT YOUR REQUEST TO OPEN SOROR’SEPTI CANNOT BE HONORED UNLESS THESE MORTALS PROVE THEMSELVES WORTHY.

“What?” Ezra blurted out. “How are we supposed to do that?” The Son’s words replayed in his ears, fanning his frustration into anger.

It exists only to do our bidding!

The Great Guardian’s molten-red gaze snapped toward Ezra just before he was Force-propelled downward. Ezra landed dangerously close to the edge of the rocky platform and Kanan grabbed his arm to keep him from stumbling into the scalding water.

Ezra shot Oroboros a reproachful glare only to receive an unsettling, razor-toothed smile in return. The frill on the serpent-dragon’s neck rippled up to encircle the back of his head like an iridescent crown.

HOW INDEED?

....to be continued....

[drainthehero]

Ultraboy. Chapter 8

Caught in the clutches of the villainous Mesmer, Ultraboy succeeded in finding the line connecting him to the UltraGem. Gathering himself mentally he leaped over to the line. As he approached it grew rapidly and he found himself carried along like driftwood in a fast moving river. Time was difficult to gauge but the river soon met up with and delivered him through a large white portal.

Through the portal he found that he was still in his Ultraboy form. His costume was once more pristine and his body felt whole and healthy, although he dimly recalled the torture he was enduring under the power of Mesmer, and this caused him a jolt of fear as he yearned to return and save his lover. This was quickly replaced with a calm feeling of peace and tranquillity.

Taking in his surroundings, he noticed that the portal had opened into a simple stone room with a roof supported by thick white columns. The room was circular with no evident doors or windows and contained a pillar at its centre. The pillar had a strange white glowing light hovering above it which pulsed with random purple surges.

Ultraboy walked toward the pillar, his cape flowing gracefully behind him. As he approached he felt his mind touched by an alien, yet somehow familiar awareness. He sensed rather than heard words coming from the glowing light, “you have returned, young hero. The dilemma you face was anticipated. As you were told, the only way to unlock the full power of the Stone is to complete the process. Are you now ready to merge with the Stone and allow the transformation?”

Ultraboy felt a sense of unease creep into his mind. Much of this felt familiar, but he could not remember why. “What do you mean?” He asked the glowing light. “What are you and where am I?”

The light gave a long purple pulse and a wave of memories surged into Ultraboy’s mind, including the day he had first discovered the UltraGem. As the memories settled into their rightful places he narrowed his eyes and focused an untrusting gaze on the floating ball of light. “I remember! You told me that merging with the Stone would transform me and change me, that my identity would be replaced.”

“That is correct hero. The Mystic Stone chose you, but its full power cannot be wielded by a mere mortal. That casing allows it to grant you some abilities and protection, but it does not give you access to all its power. You now need to make a choice. Transform into the Mystic Protector and your lover will be saved and those against you will be brought to justice.”

A furrow creased the brow of the handsome young hero as he contemplated. “But I… Jack… will be gone? Forever lost to this Mystic Protector?”

“Yes, hero. That is the way it must be. The power of the Stone would crush your simple mind and so you would not survive the process.”

Ultraboy was torn but knew ultimately where this would end. He could not possibly sit by and let Chip be hurt nor could he allow these villains to complete the terrible deeds they were carrying out with the UltraJuice. He nodded once saying, “I agree. Anything to save Chip.”

The light started to glow with a range of short and long pulses. Ultraboy instantly felt himself lifted to hover a few inches above the ground, his arms flung wide. The UltraGem floated gently away from where it normally sat between his pectorals and he thought he could make out the brightly glowing Stone within the gem casing.

The casing split with the two segments drifting apart to leave a tiny Stone floating on its own which glowed with a fierce bright purple light. The Mystic Stone then floated gently back toward the smooth muscled chest of the young hero.

As the Stone approached Ultraboy could feel the unbridled power emanating from it and he knew instantly that the abilities of this Mystic Protector would make Ultraboy look like a newborn kitten in comparison. The Stone connected to him with a bridge of purple light and caused a feeling of warmth to spread across his body which became enveloped in a purple fire.

Once the transformation was underway Ultraboy felt his body thrust back through portal and up the river which connected his physical form to the strange circular room. He could now sense an awareness in his mind, and he recognised it as the thing which had jumped into his mind during his earlier attempt to commune with the UltraGem and which had protected him from the assault of Mesmer.

As he contemplated the awareness, he felt his progress in the river slowing as the passage of time seemed to be reduced to a trickle. The transformation process also slowed to a crawl. Ultraboy gave a confused look before asking the awareness, “who… what, are you?”.

Thoughts entered the young hero’s mind, “I… accompany… the Stone,” Ultraboy waited for further clarification before it continued, “I exist with the Stone, but I am not of the Stone.”

Ultraboy decided after another pause that he would not be getting any more information. “Thank you for helping me earlier. Why did you do that?”

“You intrigue me young hero. It was I that proposed the UltraGem when the Stone first chose you and I have watched you stand strong in the face of adversity.”

The young hero felt deflated as he once again recalled the imminent obliteration of his identity. “Thank you for your support. I guess it won’t be necessary when the Stone assumes the form of the Mystic Protector.”

An odd feeling emanated from the awareness before it responded. “I have seen what happens when the Protector is summoned. It culminates in an epic battle and countless innocent lives are lost. The Guardian believes this to be the only way, but I do not agree.”

Ultraboy felt a glimmer of hope, wondering if the awareness had an idea and a way to carry it out.

“I believe I can re-form the UltraGem. This time however I could buffer your fragile mind to allow you access to more of the powers of the Stone. The Guardian will likely disapprove, but outside of the Hollow it has no control over the Stone.” Ultraboy could feel a sense of satisfaction emanating from the awareness as it sent the last thought. “So, what say you, young hero?”

Ultraboy felt a spark of hope surge within his massive chest as he nodded enthusiastically saying, “Of course, yes. I can’t thank you enough…” he paused uncertainly, “uhhh, what do I call you?”

“I have never needed a name. Call me Watcher. It has always been my place to watch as events unfold around the Stone so it seems fitting.” Watcher seemed to adopt a sense of urgency. “Now, there is little time before the transformation is complete.”

As the young hero watched, the two pieces of the Gem coalesced into existence just near the Stone, which was still connected to Ultraboy’s muscled chest by the thick glowing purple bridge of light. The pieces of the Gem moved themselves into position and wrapped once more around the stone leaving a dazzling sliver of bright purplish white light cutting through the seam, which disappeared in a bright flash as the UltraGem reformed. Ultraboy could feel the transformation process had stopped and the purple bridge of light was also nowhere to be seen.

Watcher then threw itself toward the UltraGem, causing the Stone to flare a bright almost white purple which was blinding even through the dimming effect of the Gem. The Stone gave one last final surge of light, almost in defiance, causing three cracks to appear in the surface of the Gem. But these started to seal almost as soon as they were formed.

In their apartment, Jack took a deep breath, having recounted his experience to Chip. “And then I was back in the room with you and Mesmer.” He felt his emotions tense as he recalled the terrible events and the almost irreparable injury to Chip as he continued, “the rest you know.”

Chip had sat quietly while Jack recounted the events, and now just breathed a heavy sigh. “Oh, Jack. What a terrible choice.” He embraced his young lover as a hint of anger entered his voice, “that Guardian thing was not even going to allow you the opportunity to say goodbye.”

Jack managed to keep his voice calm and soothing. “I know. But I would make that choice over and over if it meant saving you.” The two sat in bed as they talked, having spent most of the day recovering from their ordeal at the hands of Mesmer.

“What does this mean then?” Queried Chip as the enormity of the events hit him. “Are you still Ultraboy? Do you have new powers? More strength?”

Jack simply shrugged as he replied, “I’m not sure. There was no opportunity to ask. The UltraGem does seem to have a few new tricks.” As he spoke he stood up and tapped his chest. The Gem appeared as if from nowhere and the grinning costumed form of Ultraboy stood in place of Chip’s handsome lover.

“I don’t feel different physically but I can sense new abilities which I haven’t yet tried to access. Honestly I’m not even sure how I would access them.”

“And what about the weakness? Do you think that it is still there?”

Ultraboy could see the effect his costumed superhero form was having on Chip and he gave a pointed look at the huge erection which was now straining against the tight boxer briefs. “Well, everything just feels different really.” He continued to look with longing at the hard outline, “but I have an irresistible urge to find out right now.” As he spoke the muscled hero reached over and ripped the bedding clear off before removing the straining briefs to reveal the well known image of Chip’s huge 9 inch cock, stretching up his tight washboard stomach.

Ultraboy bent down to wrap his mouth around the big head and suck away the glistening precum which had already formed while Chip had been fantasizing about the teen superhero. “Ohhhhh,” moaned Chip as he felt the strong tongue lash his glans.

After he had finished moaning, Chip’s voice took on an authoritative tone. “Now, young hero,” he improvised, placing his finger to his temple, “I have hypnotised you and you are under my command.”

Ultraboy’s cock instantly grew at the suggestion by Chip and he immediately played along, assuming a slightly vacant look in his beautiful purple eyes. “Yes, my Master. Command me such that I can serve you.”

“Flex for me and stroke your hard cock for my pleasure, my Ultratoy.”

Ultraboy immediately whipped his big cock out of his speedo and started to stroke it for his ‘masters’ pleasure. “Yes Master, anything for you.” He then flexed the muscles across his chest and arms. “I will flex my cock for your pleasure Master.”

Chip moaned in delight as Ultraboy displayed and stroked himself in service, before running his hands over the smooth godlike body of the young muscled hero. “Good. Now suck on my cock.”

“Yes Master,” responded Ultraboy as he leaned forward and engulfed as much of the big hard cock that he could fit in his mouth.

“All of it, Ultratoy. I don’t want to see any of the shaft,” commanded Chip.

A muffled response was all that could be heard as the young hero forced his head even further down the huge shaft, before finally wedging enough of the head down his throat and making a loud gagging sound. Ultraboy then proceeded to move his head up and down Chip’s cock, causing the young cop to moan in ecstasy as the super powered tongue and mouth worked the entirety of his cock.

“Stop now hero,” commanded Chip as he felt himself dangerously close to the edge. “Now ride this big cock my hypnotised hero.”

The handsome young hero played the part of the torn hypnotised slave, saying “but Master, if your big cock enters me then I may lose my powers. I could be weak and helpless.”

Chip gave his voice a harsh and firm tone as he responded, “ride my cock hero, and if you do not serve me adequately you will be punished.”

“Yes Master,” said Ultraboy as he ripped his purple speedo off and turned his waist to flash his perfect bubble butt, “does my ass please you my Master?”

Chip slapped the muscled cheek with his open palm and replied, “it will please me when it is wrapped around my big cock hero. Now impale yourself.”

Ultraboy physically shivered at the command from Chip’s voice, saying only, “yes Master,” before he positioned himself above the cock which he held upright with one hand, the other bracing against the bed in anticipation of the weakening effect.

Chip felt the tight sphincter of the hero encase his head and watched Ultraboy’s face for signs of the usual effect.

Ultraboy felt the large head penetrate his hole, which was always fresh and tight in his Gem charged hero form, feeling a surge of hope when he did not instantly get weak. He flashed a smile at his young lover as he allowed himself to ride down the huge pole, feeling it entering him, but not hurting due to his invulnerability.

Chip could feel the tightness of that superpowered ass as it wrapped around his hard shaft and wondered if he would be able to handle that powerful muscle as it engulfed his hard cock.

However, as Ultraboy continued to lower himself the UltraGem pulsed with a deep purple light and the muscled young hero immediately felt his strength draining from his body. “Ohhhh…” he groaned as he felt the familiar effect of his body being sapped of its strength and energy. “Ughhhh… ohhhh… so weak…” he muttered as he strained his massive muscles to hold himself upright.

Initially Chip thought that his muscular hero was playing but he quickly realised that Ultraboy was genuinely weakened by the hard shaft impaling his tight hero hole. Abandoning the roleplay he quickly grabbed the huge biceps to support the wavering body as it keeled over to the side. To the weak moans of the muscle stud hero Chip slid his long hard cock out of the tight hole saying, “sorry, are you ok?”

Ultraboy quickly regained his strength and gave Chip a thankful look before saying, “I want you to do it again.”

Chip just looked with disbelief. “What? Are you crazy?”

“No. It will be ok. Something just felt different and I need to understand it.” This time, Ultraboy laid himself down on the bed and lifted his legs high in the air.

The sight of his superhero lover displaying himself drove Chip crazy and he grabbed his cock and an ankle and sat the head of his cock at the entry of the superhero boyhole. “Are you sure? This will hurt.”

The handsome young hero simply gazed back with those beautiful purple eyes and nodded in agreement.

Chip guided his cock into the tight waiting hole then leaned forward and grabbed a slab of pectoral muscle, twisting a nipple and pulling on it to slide himself into the tight hole. “Hmmmmm, god you are so tight,” moaned Chip as he felt the powerful muscle close and slide along his shaft. “I can’t believe how good you feel.”

“Mmmmnnnnhhh,” moaned Ultraboy as he felt the fingers squeeze his nipple before he once again felt his ass penetrated. “Ohhh… uhhhh… so weak…” he gasped through ragged breath as Chip’s big cock slid all the way into his tight hole. “Ughhh… can barely… lift my arms.” As if to prove his point, the big muscular arms of the hunky superhero were sprawled out to his sides, and as he flexed them they barely managed to lift clear of the bed before slumping back down.

Since their very first encounter, Chip had mostly avoided fucking Ultraboy due to the weakness it created, and he found himself returned to those few occasions and once again thrilled in his control over the muscular but weakened superhero. Unable to control himself, he slipped into their roleplay. “How does that feel hero?” He pulled at the now sensitive nipple as he thrust himself deep into the tight hole. “Where are your mighty powers to prevent me from fucking your virgin ass?”

Ultraboy groaned and moaned from the myriad experiences across his body. As the strength was drained from his body he felt the full size of Chip’s large shaft penetrate him while the twisting of his nipple both hurt and turned him on. He was focussed on trying to connect with the UltraGem and so his subconscious mind continued the rolelplay. “Ughhhh… no… you have made me so weak. Aghhhhhhhh… ohhh… I can’t believe you have defeated me.”

This drove Chip wild with desire and he increased the pace of his thrusting as the weakened body of his mighty superhero lover lay there limp and useless. “Go on hero. What useless huge muscles. Are you just going to lay there and let me fuck you?” Chip could feel his cock grow even harder as he smack talked Ultraboy, who merely groaned helplessly.

Ultraboy had closed his eyes and seemed almost in a trance, but he continued the role, “arghhh… you can’t… I’m a superhero… please… you can’t fuck me.” He attempted to lift his arm for protection but could only manage to get it high enough to rest on his washboard stomach.

Chip lifted the arm and flung it to the side of the weak and helpless superhero. “Aghhhh. Your big cock in my ass is making me so weak,” groaned Ultraboy. “You have defeated me. How? Why?”

Chip could feel himself getting closer and increased the pace of his thrusting as his body shifted to autopilot and his need to cum took over. “I have defeated you hero and I have fucked you. Now I am going to fill you with my seed and complete your humiliation.”

Even through the haze of his distraction Ultraboy could hear the words and knew he wanted it. “Mmmmmhhh,” he moaned. “You have defeated me, Master. I am your superhero fuck toy. Fill me with your seed and complete my humiliation.”

This was enough to drive Chip over the edge and he cried out as he rammed and held his cock deep within the tight hero hole, thrusting his hips as he emptied his load in ecstasy.

Ultraboy felt the final thrust as his lover’s cock filled his ass and the balls were planted up against his smooth hero bubble butt, before he felt the hot jets of cum fill his hole even further.

Chip was stretched up in a state of bliss with his eyes closed as his body shook from the powerful orgasm. As it subsided he began to draw himself out to allow Ultraboy’s powers to return, but was surprised to feel a strong hand on his back preventing his movement. When he opened his eyes in shock he found Ultraboy had reached up and prevented his movement, drawing them together for a passionate kiss. Chip felt his cock hardening once more and when he dropped his hand he found the rock hard shaft of Ultraboy.

“What? How?” queried Chip in confusion after the kiss had ended and he remained in the strong embrace of his once more superheroic lover.

Ultraboy relaxed his ass muscles and pulled himself off the still hard cock to avoid causing harm. “I don’t entirely understand, but the effect of the Gem changed when you came inside me,” he shrugged. “I’m not sure what it means but it can’t be a bad thing right?” He tapped the UltraGem, making it disappear as shimmered back into the mortal form of Jack. “In any event, without the Mystic Protector to stop these villains, you and I are going to need to finish what we have started.”

An urgent tone sounded from Chip’s phone, who quickly reached for it and read the message with a darkening scowl. He looked up at Jack. “Mesmer’s gone, rescued. Reports of bolts of powerful red energy. The facility was destroyed and there are were no survivors.”

Mesmer hung suspended by chains, his body bruised and battered from repeated beatings. He groaned, managing to squint one eye open as the Coordinator entered his cell and regarded him with a slight shaking of his head. In a defensive reflex he attempted to reach out with his gift to escape his continuing torment but found only an empty void, filling him with deeper remorse than all the physical abuse.

The Coordinator sighed, “I knew you were a fool Mesmer, but I did not expect you to be so egregiously stupid to try and take the enemy for a plaything. You could have unleashed the Protecter.” His voice turned more quiet as he continued, almost to himself, “you should have unleashed it.” He resumed his focus. “Your actions could have unravelled all we have prepared, so your punishment is being overseen by the Director personally. This is the cell for his private… guests.”

The Coordinator pivoted and exited through the open doorway leaving the hapless villain sobbing as he contemplated the punishments awaiting him.

[katsukinshu]

Your Confession

A/N: Have you ever wonder how they would react to you confessing to them?

ft. Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki

Midoriya Izuku

"Midoriya, do you want me to help with your research?"

That was your first plan. Since you do not belong to the same class, you really can't have a proper time to talk to him since Class I-A have a tough schedule.

"Eh? Do you have free time?" He asked.

You gave him a smile and told him you have a spare. He agreed to your decision, and that was what happened.

The both of you, after getting the book that Iida has recommended, went to a park nearby. You are currently talking about the quirk he had seen on television yesterday.

"Maybe it was a trajectory-kind of quirk?" You told him your opinion.

His eyes went wide and immediately jot it down on his notes.

"You're right, Y/N. It has an orbit and the line segment depends on the holder of the quirk. How about its force? Oh! Maybe the holder had some heavy training to throw the ball at that kind of speed. But Kacchan is near the speed. Although yesterday's man was much faster but still..." You looked at Deku as he proceeds to analyze the situation and the quirk itself.

You bit your lip. He's a hard-working man. Really.

"Midoriya?" You called out to him.

"But what if he throws it at light speed? Is it possible? All Might could do that but what-"

"Midoriya Izuku?" You said as you tap his back. He jolts.

"A-Ah. Right. Sorry, Y/N. It's just my habit." Yeah, you know it. Maybe one of the reasons why you like him? That kind of concentration is what makes him cute.

"Should we stop at the conbini? I'll treat you since you helped me." And he gave you a wide grin.

You stand up first while he started to fix his things.

"That sounds good!" You agreed.

"By the way, Midoriya-kun-" you started as he zips his bag and looks at you.

Midway standing, you state-"I like you." He froze at the position.

"Y-Y/N? W-what ki-d o-" You went close to him and lean on his height.

"I'm saying I like you." His eyes- round, mouth- agape, and his face- red.

"W-wait... T-that's ju-st... W-wai-" In a sudden moment, you move back and face your back on him.

"Yakisoba bun would be good today!" You gleefully said.

Confession success! His answer could wait.

Todoroki Shòto

You were holding onto the letter-almost crumbling it as you waited for Todoroki at their dorm entrance. You couldn't go further since it would mean breaking the rules.

As you see him approach Midoriya, your heart races. Midoriya first saw you and he smiled at you and waved while calling your name.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Midoriya asked. You gave a knowing glimpse at Midoriya and he immediately understood as he has seen the letter.

"I-I'm going f-first!" Midoriya nervously laughed.

You prepared to say something to Todoroki to get his attention but he took the first move- "Midoriya, I'll stay here with Y/N for a while. You can go in first," he stated while looking at Midoriya.

"Su-Sure!" Midoriya gave you a thumbs-up and you just nodded at him, while he left.

"So? Who's that for?" He said looking at the letter in your hand. You flushed.

"It's...f-for you. " It was almost a whisper.

"Mine? Really?" He said with a straight face.

You cleared your throat before giving it to him-"Just...uh...take your time reading it...uhm..." You cleared your throat again.

"I'm...heading back," however before you completely turned your back at him, he pulled your wrist.

"Did you perhaps write this?" He asked. You turned at him and his other hand holding your letter-opened, while his other, still at your wrist.

"Y-yes." After you answered, he looked at you.

"Don't you want to hear my answer?" He asked. A slight tug on his lip.

Bakugo Katsuki

"Hey, Bakugou!" You shouted at him as you activated your quirk.

"Don't shout, you weakling!" With his hands held up high you knew that he'd bang you on the floor eventhough it's just personal training.

With your developed reflex, you jump backward enough for you to prepare for the next attack- materializing a sword.

"I have something to tell you!" Running at full speed towards him, you pointed the sword at him and he stopped his hand midway getting your wrist.

"Ha! As if I'd let you get me, brat!" He shoots and used his quirk to blast the sword in your hands.

"Listen to me, Kacchan!"

"Don't fuckin' call me that!" With another blast directed in your direction, you back away only to get your training uniform scratched.

"Ugh. Why won't he just listen first? You murmured and finally took out the trick on your sleeves. Almost.

"Baku-"

"Don't leave your back open, weakling." You gasped. His voice echoes through your back and upon turning, Bakugou tucks you on your back, holding your wrist tightly.

He laughed-"That's in fourteen minutes! You lost again!"

"Tsk. I like you." His brows furrowed at your sudden words.

"The heck you're talking about?" You struggle at the position as you turn your head sideways so that even at a peripheral vision, you could see him.

"I said I like you, Bakugou. " You, then again, confessed.

He was silent. Basing on your vision, he's most likely observing you and you almost roll your eyes at his actions-"I'm not lying."

Within few seconds, he lets go of you. You immediately turned on him as you were still lying on the floor. He's wearing his usual look-careful, examining, brows furrowed and sharp eyes.

"Rejected. " Your eyes went round as you immediately leaned on his figure. The both of you were now sitting.

"Hey, that was fast! Just why?! You whined.

"Heh. You're serious, brat?" An annoying smirk was displayed on his face.

"Just what do you think of me? I've been enduring your attacks for the past four days and mind you- they hurt, just for me to confess to you!" Emphasizing every word, he busted out laughing.

"Figured out the first time you asked me to practice with you." Standing up, he went to get his bag.

"What? I wasn't that obvious." You corrected him.

"Just why do you think I'd agree with all your craps then?! Took damn four days. Tch!" And he started to walk out.

"T-that... does that mean you like me too?"

"Annoying. Shut up!"

--END--

[junicai]

frozen hearts.

| summary | Aria and Yuta bonding, feat. some less than pleasant discoveries.

| word count | 2.5k

| warnings | bad parenting (?), neglect

| era | circa. 2014 through 2017

Underneath a frozen river, the water will keep running in a steady flow. It doesn’t care for the layer of ice blocking it out from the world; it has a sole purpose. To continue flowing, to continue rushing down the side of the slight hill. Rivers don’t stop for a cold snap.

Similarly, frozen hearts still beat despite their layer of black ice covering the outer shell. They are hard, and cold to the touch - almost unbearable to carry for any length of time - but they have warm blood rushing through them regardless. 

The thing is, about frozen hearts, is one cannot be born cold. 

Each life begins flooded with light and love and happiness and warmth; it fills up each corner of your vision and everything is bright, bright, bright.

Like a pot slowly brought to the boil, or the temperature slowly dropped degree by degree - you’ll freeze without even knowing it.

Aria likes to believe that’s what happened, at least. She can’t resent them, not as much as her head begs her too, for her heart pounds against her chest screaming no.

Too many fond memories filed away to be taken out and gazed upon with a bittersweet smile curling her lips makes for an impossible task when asked to burn the bridge connecting them.

Part of her was reluctant to let go, because she still needed them, still wanted their care and their comfort like she had once received in mountains. Like a drug, it had been snatched away from her without warning, and now she was an addict weaning herself off of it, trying to ignore the pang in her chest.

The other part, was scared. Terrified even. Scared that should she burn the bridge, should she cut the final chord, that they wouldn’t even feel it at all. 

Call her cruel, but Aria wanted them to feel the pain she did when the bonds were snapped. 

But how can a frozen heart burn?

A new perspective. 

A new perspective can change the world, said her mother.

A new perspective is all that you need to change a catastrophe into something else entirely. Aria wasn’t sure if it was her that she was talking to, or if she was trying to convince herself. 

Packed onto a plane with her abhorrently bright suitcase and a handful of folded papers to he name, Aria was given a pat on the back by her father, and a one-armed hug by her mother. 

“You behave now, you hear me? Make your parents proud of you.” Her mother stood up straighter, brushing the non-existent dust from Aria’s shoulders. 

Aria nodded, letting her parents take a final once over before she was packed onto a plane, with a red sticker slapped onto her suitcase. 

Unaccompanied Minor. 

It felt like a tag, and Aria could feel the eyes following her around the airport as she just barely managed to navigate her way to her gate and onto the plane.

At the gate, she fumbled with the folded papers in her small hands, and yelped when two of them slid out onto the ground and fluttered open. 

Tucked inside one paper slip was her airplane ticket, the words INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA printed in bold across the top.

The airport hostess smiled kindly at the young girl, crouching down beside her to help collect the scattered things. 

“And where would you be off to? Are you meeting your parents?” She asked, smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she scanned Aria’s ticket through and the light flickered green momentarily.

Aria shook her head. Her parents lived in Dublin.

“Aria, don’t be ridiculous. You have a full career ahead of you where you are right now, why would you throw all that away for a silly little dream?” Her mother sighed lightly.

“You’d never make it as a singer - I just don’t think you have it in you, darling.” She shuffled closer to Aria, tucking the girl under her arm. “Let’s stop daydreaming, hm? You have an early practice tomorrow, you need to get some proper sleep before that.”

Moving past the questioning woman, Aria took back her ticket from the extended hand. “I’m going to become a singer.” 

Aria knew she was small. 

She was an inch short of average height, and normally it wouldn’t bother her but when surrounded by a group of boys all going through the various stages of puberty at once, it became glaringly obvious that she was, in fact, quite short. 

Kicking her toe at the floor of the practice room, she scoffed slightly. Stupid teenage boys and their stupid growth spurts and their stupid long legs and their stupid voice cracks. 

They’d recorded the same segment of the song four times, because one of the trainees kept shattering his voice box anytime he went above a middle C. 

Now, nearing ten minutes to twelve, the others had packed themselves away and left with a goodbye called over their shoulder - leaving Aria to pace the spring boarded floor mindlessly.

“Akari?” 

Aria jolted slightly, whipping around to face the doorway from which a boy was hanging from. 

“Yuta-san! Oh, hello!” Aria bowed a little shakily, startled from her own thoughts. 

Yuta moved through the doorway into the practice room. He scanned around, frowning when he only saw Aria alone in the room. “Are you here alone?” 

Aria nodded. “The others, they wanted to go home but I needed to stay so I told them it was okay.” 

“The others?”

“My team,” She explained. “I’m training with the boys right now, and we’re meant to be putting together a piece for the evaluation next month.”

He stepped forward. “You’re training with, Hyunjae’s group? Why?”

Aria shrugged. “I don’t know either. They just told me to come here now instead of the other practice room, so I did.���

Yuta still looked confused, but Aria spun the topic of conversation around before he had the chance to ask another question. “It’s late, Yuta-san, shouldn’t you be at home?”

He blinked once, shaking his head lightly and looking back at Aria. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s dark outside, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” She rushed to protest. “I used to walk home at night a lot, I’m okay with the dark now.”

Yuta bit the inside of his cheek with how fast he turned. “They leave you here alone a lot?” His face had taken on an incredulous look, and his eyes had a dark tinge. 

“No no, that’s not what I meant,” Aria waved her hands about. God this was a mess. “Back home, I used to walk home after training. So I’m careful but the dark doesn’t scare me.” She emphasized home, not wanting an angry Yuta to come after Hyunjae in the morning.

It really was okay...

“Well the thought of you alone in the dark scares me.” Yuta said with finality, walking to the wall and picking up Aria’s jacket from the ground. “C’mon, it’s not getting any brighter.”

“You know, you said something. Years ago, and I’ve always meant to ask you what you meant but I never got the chance to.” 

Aria flipped over on the bed, lying on her stomach with one eye open as she peered over at Yuta. The laptop with a film paused was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, and was beginning to slide off the duvet just as he went to grab it. 

His fingers curled around the screen right before it fell off entirely, saving it from a broken spine.

Aria giggled. “Nice save.” 

Yuta smiled, and pushed the now closed laptop towards the head of the bed where it would be out of harms way. Hopefully. 

Not willing to drop the topic just yet, he sat up and put his hands on his knees. “You said something about walking home, that you were used to doing it in the dark.”

Aria hummed, half asleep with the warmth of the room. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket earlier on and it had kept her toasty - but now the warm air was slowly making her drowsy. “My parents didn’t really have time, so I just. Walked.”

“Your parents didn’t have time?”

“To collect me. From the ice rink, I mean.”

Yuta’s lips parted, but the words died on his tongue. His head tilted in confusion. “How old were you?”

“Mm, ten?”

“Ten?!”

Aria giggled, swatting at him and missing by a mile. “Don’t say it like that, it was fine! It was a ten minute walk, I wasn’t going to die.”

Yuta’s eyebrows were nearly touching at this point. “Your parents, made a ten year old girl walk home in the dark, what, twice a week?”

“Three times. I had morning practice three times a week, and evening practice three times a week.”

“You were ten?”

“Mhm.”

Yuta sat back. “What, were you training for the Olympics or something?” He joked, a half smile finding it’s way onto his lips. 

“Mhm.”

The smile fell. “What?”

“That’s what my father told me. H’said, I was going to the Olympics to make them proud.” 

“That’s, nice I guess-”

“To repay what they gave me.” She finished.

Yuta’s relaxed demeanor had disappeared entirely, and now he was staring in shock and slight trepidation at the sleepy girl lying on his bed. She had moved closer in the duration of their conversation, and was close to having her head pillowed in his lap.

“What did you say, Akari?” His voice was soft, hiding a more concerned undertone. 

Aria whined, shaking her head. “No, don’t wanna talk about this. M’tired, m’going to sleep.”

“Akari no, two more minutes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Akari,” Yuta patted her arm, pulling her up gently. “Two more minutes, then I promise you can go to sleep.”

She groaned, turning to plant her fact in the blanket beneath her. “What, what is it?” 

“Do you -” Yuta started then stopped. “Did you like ice skating?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Aria rolled over, throwing an arm over face as she eyed Yuta suspiciously. “Okay, you’re acting weird. Stop acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird!” He protested. 

“Yes you are! You’re making me feel like I’ve done something wrong, stop it.” 

Yuta sighed, moving to lay beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Okay, I’m sorry. You haven’t done something wrong, don’t worry.”

“Then what’s with the bloody interrogation?” Aria’s voice was ladened with sleepy frustration.

“I just...”

“You just...”

Yuta pinched her arm. “Don’t mock me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could string a sentence together.”

Yuta let his thoughts gather, collecting them together.

It wasn’t weird, was it? A lot of kids felt a responsibility towards their parents, wanted to repay them for taking care of them, that wasn’t unusual. But on the other hand, it was normally the child who decided to take on that burden, they were rarely instructed to do so by their parents themselves. 

Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember a single time where Aria has mentioned her parents; not at holidays, not during promotions. He doesn’t remember her ever stepping out to take a call from them. 

Had Aria spoken about her parents at all? It wasn’t a thing he would have otherwise taken notice of, but suddenly Yuta was wracking his memory, trying to find a single time where Aria had mentioned her parents, spoken about them. 

Yuta didn’t know why he was so worried about this. If there was a problem, surely she would have come to him? Come to someone? 

Regardless of the logic telling him that, yes, everything was okay, there was a sinking feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach. 

When asked about her family, Aria had always said NCT. Said that, NCT was her family; her home.

“Akari, when was the last time you spoke to your parents?”

Aria rolled her neck to ease the growing crick. She was still burrowed beneath the blanket, and Yuta’s hug was only pushing her deeper into a comforting sleep. “Last month, why?”

“What did you talk about?” He pressed.

“There was a problem with my VISA. Some of the adoption papers got mixed up or the name change wasn’t filed right or something.” Aria mumbled the words into the duvet. “Can I go to sleep now?”

Yuta didn’t respond. 

“Yuta?”

Aria lifted her head, blinking blearily at the older boy. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yuta was not going to be sick. It was just a lot to process. Yeah.

“You’re adopted?”

“You didn’t know?”

He spluttered lightly, “You never told me!” 

“It’s not exactly a secret! Any article written about me has something about my adoptive parents written in there. ‘The heroic couple who gave a young girl a fighting chance~’” Aria snorted through her nose. 

Yuta’s head was reeling. Aria was adopted. That was fine. Nothing wrong there. 

But something still wasn’t sitting right with him.

“Is that what you ‘owe them’? The fact that they adopted you?” 

“The orphanage I was in was being closed down - I think I was going to be moved to a group home, but the week before it shut, my parents adopted me. It seems fair that I’d owe them something for that, right?” 

“No?” Yuta let out a winded chuckle, eyes wide. “Akari that’s not, how adoption works?”

“Sure it is. And anyway, I was good at ice skating. It’s not a big deal.” Aria rolled over back to her stomach with finality, clearly trying to signify an end to the conversation. 

Yuta wasn’t done. He had finalized on what it was that wasn’t sitting right.

“You speak Japanese. I thought you - did your parents speak Japanese?” 

Aria hummed. “No, I took lessons. They said it was good for the media - it changed their perception of me, I think. Made me more appealing.” The words were mechanical, and not her own.

“What does that even mean?!” Yuta’s voice was raised now, the boy sitting up.

It was like Aria was being treated like a show horse, trained in a few tricks and then sold on. What kind of people - 

“Yuta, please.” Aria’s voice was soft, and her eyes were barely open. “Please, I just want to go to sleep. M’tired, you can ask me about this tomorrow, okay?”

He sat back, mollified. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. You want to stay here, or?” 

Aria snuggled deeper into the covers in lieu of an answer.

Yuta ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay, that’s. That’s fine. Goodnight, Akari.”

Aria’s phone lit up from where the girl had tossed it earlier, making a small ping. He looked over momentarily, catching the two small notifications before the screen faded to black again.

Mother [1:48] The transaction should have gone through. Make sure to approve it quickly, we don’t want to be waiting like we were last month. 

[Bank of Korea] $850 has been withdrawn from your account by your contact “Mother”. Would you like to approve this transaction? 

[chyrstis]

WIP Sunday...?

Whoops. So much for Saturday, but Sunday I can definitely do. :D

Tagged by: @adelaidedrubman ​ @vasiktomis @ma-sulevin @fadedjacket and @starsandskies! I want to thank you all for thinking of me, especially since it always takes a few extra days if not a week D: to be able to get to it. <3

Tagging: @writerofblocks ​ @hunnybadgerv ​ @twistedsinews ​ @painterofhorizons @shallow-gravy ​ (I know you just posted, so don’t mind me at all, or *eyes*) @cobb-vanthss ​ @amistrio ​ @tommymillers @jackiesarch @geronimo-11 @unlikelynick @redroci @scarlettkat86 @jackalopestride ​ @jenchwuq @faithchel @consumedkings @belorage @tomexraider @scarlettkat86 @aceghosts @chazz-anova but no obligation intended at all! 

---

First, a little more the Hana/Sharky fic I’ve been working on for a bit now, which hopefully I’ll finish by the end of next week? *crosses fingers*

---

The chair screeched forward, and her eyes snapped open.

She didn’t even breathe as she took in the stretch of darkness in front of her. The black of it all stained red for a minute, but it faded. Didn’t see a single thing change in front of her - not the trees twenty feet out from her or the bushes, or the figure on the ground off to her right.

But there was no room. No chair. Just her as she adjusted. Let her eyes settle the longer they were open, and tried to push herself up only to have her pillow all but slip out from under her.

“Uh, H? Hana?”

That’s when she caught the green out of the corner of her eye. Right where she’d decided to nestle her cheek, and sat up fast enough for Sharky to jolt right next to her.

“Whoa, chica. You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine!” Her hands shot out to steady herself, all while her heart hammered in her chest. “Really, I’m-I’m fine.”

Just repeated it over and over as she sat there, breathing in deep in the hopes that it would out. That she would even out, and rubbed hard at her face before deciding to look his way.

“It was just a really, really shitty dream. I think that’s the only kind I’ve been able to have up here. But see? All fine,” Hana replied, gesturing towards herself. “All awake and ready to jump up and-just really go and put foot to-”

Exhaustion hit her like a truck, making any words she’d meant to go for next disappear straight into a yawn. One of the loudest and longest she could recall in recent memory, and covered her mouth with her hand as she waited for it to pass. But it stretched on, and by the time she was finished, Sharky’s expression had gone from concerned straight to delighted.

“Damn, H. New record there.”

“So, maybe I'm a little tired. A little!” she said, pinching together her fingers. “But that’s just one, and all you’ll be hearing from me.”

Sharky shrugged, but when she saw him stretch and give an exaggerated yawn himself, she couldn’t even roll her eyes before having another slip out. It was nowhere near as long as the other, but that wasn't playing fair at all, and she lightly punched him in the shoulder for it.

---

...A little something I wrote out last night that if all goes according to plan, will absolutely be added to a certain fic, but we’ll see if these two decide to cooperate and if Hana manages not to light herself on fire either

---

“I’d like to file a complaint.”

“About what?” John asked, his tone short. 

“This.” 

He gave her a look, and Hana smoothed out the remains of the wanted poster she was holding. After tearing if off of the wall, she hadn’t been delicate with it, and as she turned it towards him was suprised it had come off in one piece at all.   

“Is this how I look to you?” She jabbed a finger at it. “How I look to the person that drew it out to begin with?”

He didn’t say a single thing to contest it as he aimed a flat look at her, and the fact that she quickly became a perfect match for said poster in that very instance wasn’t lost on her at all.

“John.”

“Deputy.”

He smiled at her, his amusement only growing at her irritation, and she settled for tearing the poster into the finest shreds she could manage instead, hitting him with half of them when she tossed them into the fireplace.

“Fuck you. You know what? Fuck the both of you.”

John wrinkled his nose as the paper drifted down onto his lap, but he brushed it off right back at her.

Hana flicked on the lighter and froze. “Excuse me?”

“...I thought it was an accurate likeness myself, but complaint noted and filed.”  

He swept his eyes over her, lingering on her growing scowl. “Even if that expression couldn’t be any more of a perfect match if I tried.”

“Capturing you properly proved to be a challenge, but it was one I was more than willing to rise to.“

“You drew me.” She circled her face with her hand - the lighter still tightly clutched in it as it burned - and came a little too close to setting the longer strands of her bangs on fire with it. “All of this?”

“The artist on hand refused to listen while I guided them, and took heavy liberties even when photos and actual references were provided, so that task fell to me. To make sure that-”

Her eyes widened. “Photos? Where the hell did you...?”

“Did you really think I wasn’t watching, Deputy? At any of my outposts? But as I was saying, nothing could be left open to interpretation even for a second, so, yes. I did draw all of this,” John replied, mimicking her motion with his own hand, “and quite well, I might add. Nowhere near poor enough to earn a fuck you over, let alone twice.”

---

And finally some of the No Cult AU, b/c I’ve been missing this and them a bunch lately (and has it been almost a year since I’ve started this? I have a feeling it’s getting close). I also don’t think I’ve posted this segment here, either, but if I have? Whoops

---

“Now John’s got me like pinky swearing not to make it too big, but you give the word and it’s on, man.” He glanced up just in time to catch John’s exasperated look and waggled his eyebrows a bit. “Like, we could throw down a bonfire that’ll get everyone talking.”

“Which we expressly do not want. You know exactly why I requested something smaller and manageable.”

“Only if it blows off somewhere else and catches. ‘Sides, even if it did, it’d hardly be the kind that’d knock your socks off.” Giving him a little less stink eye than he deserved, Sharky leaned against the table and huffed. “If you knew how to have some fucking fun, that is.”

“And you’ll have a pro on hand, so consider that stuff, you know. Handled.”

“Handled, he says.” John snorted. “So it’ll only be a minor violation rather than a large one.”

“Fun?” John’s eyes narrowed. “What I think is-”

“John,” Joseph said, cutting him off. “Enough. There’s no need to argue here.”

Sharky watched John open his mouth, then clap it shut. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he didn’t argue any further. Just stayed silent as Joseph walked over to join him on the other side of the table.

“Forgive my brother. What we want is the same here, simply to repay you for your work in some form or fashion, and if this gives us the chance, then please let us take it. You’ve already done so much for us with little to ask for in return. So, if there’s anything we can offer, please allow us to.”

“Dude, it’s nothing. I really don’t mind this,” Sharky said, holding his hands up. “’Sides, I wouldn’t be here without your bro steering me your way to begin with, so…”

John’s posture went rigid. Went ramrod straight as his eyes locked right onto him.

“So, uh…yeah. That’s all on him.”

[creativekat]

PTC, part iii

gif by @pascalsky​

Word Count: 2,367 

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Unintentional body piercing play, again (Marcus control your hands!);  allusions to naughty thoughts

A/N: @the-purity-pen​ and I continue to be overwhelmed by the response to our story! I, for one, could never have imagined this response! Thank you so much! If you want to be tagged for future segments, let me know! Missy’s teacher helps Marcus in the kitchen for the sleepover.  Part One | Part Two

Marcus was pacing his kitchen, his mind trying to conjure up the list of ingredients he would need. He was moving from cabinet to fridge to another cabinet. His hands moving across the packages and containers that he thought he would need. The only thing he forgot about was slicing the pepperoni. He had grabbed the stick of pepperoni from the fridge and stood in front of the knife block on the counter, one hand on his hip, the other running over his scruff in thought.

“Dad, you good?” Missy asked as she came into the kitchen, watching her father with a furrowed brow.

“Hm? Oh, oh yeah. Just fine,” he murmured as he turned to face her and swallowed a large lump that had formed in his throat. 

Missy’s eyes moved to the counter with a curious nod of her chin. “What’s all this?”

“Uh, we’re gonna make personalized pizzas,” he told her and her face lit up with a laugh. 

“You? You’re gonna cook?” she questioned with her arms crossing over her chest, her hipping popping out to one side, the stance that she definitely took after her mother. When Marcus opened his mouth to quip back, the doorbell rang. “Expecting someone?” Missy chided, knowing that all of her friends were out in the living room gossiping and showing off their powers.

You tried not to be nervous as you waited for someone to come to the door, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t typically go over to your students’ homes. You weren’t typically invited to your students’ homes. And you really couldn’t help remembering what had happened at the grocery store. Your face burned at the memory. 

The door opened and there stood the student in question. She looked at you with surprise and curiosity, “Are you here to see my dad?” Her head tilted as if she were working a math problem and the numbers weren’t quite adding up. 

When she put it that way, you wondered if agreeing to this had been a bad idea. But, then you reminded yourself of the reason you’d been asked over. You replied, as calmly as you could, “I’m here to help your dad… with cooking and stuff.” 

You nearly laughed out loud at the look of relief on Missy’s face, “Oh gooood!” She sighed the last word. 

Suddenly, Marcus appeared at the door, “Don’t leave our guest standing outside, Missy.” Then looking at you, he said, “Come in, come in… do you want something to drink?” 

You nodded as you stepped inside, “Water would be fine.” Suddenly you felt parched. Marcus nodded with a tightlipped smile as he turned to lead you down the front hall to the kitchen. You followed him slowly, taking in a bit of the pictures that hung on the wall and the obvious artwork that was done by a much younger Missy.

Your smile must have been evident when you walked into the kitchen because when Marcus turned around with the pitcher of water from the fridge he threw a smile in your direction. You straightened yourself up trying to calm the sudden onset of butterflies blooming in your chest.

“Dad, you’re actually gonna let her cook right?” Missy tried to confirm and you simply let out a soft giggle. Marcus snapped his head around with a playful glare on his face towards his daughter.

“Don’t you have friends to go entertain?” he quipped back but it was all bark with no bite as a wide grin spread his lips. Missy scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest with a hip popped out.

“I mean, I guess,” she said before breaking into laughter and shaking her head at her father and turning to run away to the living room. You were laughing as you looked after her before turning to see Marcus holding out the glass filled for you.

“She’s something else isn’t she?” he asked as he moved past you to the fridge to replace the pitcher.

Nodding, you couldn’t help but laugh, “She’s a great kid. You’ve done a great job with her.” Of course, you knew he hadn’t always been doing it alone. She’d had a mother. He’d had a wife. One that he’d loved very much from everything you’d heard. 

You took the glass of water from him, immediately taking a sip, hoping to quell the flame that you felt burning your throat and threatening to climb up to color your face. You had always thought Marcus was attractive, but the few insights you’d had into his true self, the non-hero side of him, made him that much more appealing to you. 

Setting the glass down, you rubbed your hands together, “So, what needs to be done? Put me to work, Mr… Marcus.” You stepped forward looking up at him. 

Marcus smiled at you, “Well, the pepperoni still needs to be sliced up if you want to handle that?” 

You took the knife from the counter where he’d left it, “Wow, you didn’t just get the pre-sliced kind? That’s … pretty serious for a man who can’t cook.” You winked at him with a chuckle and then turned toward the counter, mouthing the words ‘oh my god’ to yourself at such a bold move.

Marcus felt his breath hitch at the simple wink from you. You were attractive and funny and intelligent and Marcus had developed a small crush on you over the last year but having you this close to him made him more nervous, especially because you were in his house.

“I definitely wasn’t thinking,” he admitted shyly with a dry chuckle as he moved over next to you and reached for some bowls he had gotten out. He started to open the packet of shredded mozzarella and elbowed you gently in the process. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he asked immediately, real concern lacing his tone.

“I’m okay Marcus,” you laughed. “Perhaps you don’t know your own strength huh?” you teased again and then mentally chastised yourself for being so flirty and forward.

In the living room, Missy’s friends asked her who was at the door and when she told them it was their teacher, the eyes lit up in curiosity. “What is she doing here?” Wheels asked with enthusiasm. “Probably just trying to make sure we’re doing our homework,” Wild Card chimed in as he tried to make just his hand go invisible.

“No, she’s here to help my dad cook. Trust me, it’s for the best,” Missy said and the others laughed as Noodles got up and moved over to the wall to stretch his head around to peek into the kitchen.

You and Marcus were busy with the food that you didn’t even notice the gathering of small eyes peering in at you. You removed the pepperoni from the package and began to slice it, though you noticed your hands were trembling slightly. Your skin tingled where Marcus’ elbow had made contact and you felt warm all over. 

Having a crush on a student’s parent was never a good idea. Even so, you couldn’t help wanting to feel him brush against you again. Again you remember what happened in the store earlier in the day and the knife slides through the pepperoni at an awkward angle, bouncing off the cutting board. “Sh--oot.” 

Marcus looks over at you with alarm, “Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?” 

“Nope, just a bit clumsy. I’m fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile and went back to your work. You heard a hinge squeak and glanced toward the door leading to the other room, where Missy had gone, but you saw nothing. 

Marcus gave a soft smile but noticed the way you were holding the knife and how it wasn’t cutting the pepperoni quite right. He furrowed his brows for a moment before clearing his throat. “Do you, uh, do you want me to show you how I cut it?” he asked and before you could answer him fully he was moving behind you.

You thought he was going to have you step aside so he could demonstrate so you made to move but his hand came around to cover yours on the handle of the knife. Almost instantly, you felt a shiver run down your spine from his touch. You tried to keep your composure before completely melting into his touch. Despite the size of his hands and the calloused fingers, he was gentle but firm in his hold on you.

His other hand took yours and guided it to the opposite edge of the pepperoni stick. His hand started to guide yours but within a moment, you felt the familiar tug on your piercings. His powers had activated to ensure the smooth cut with the metal blade and he hadn’t even noticed that that was how he was able to perfect his cuts.

You struggled to control your breathing as you forced yourself to focus on what Marcus was showing you. But, your nipples were being traitorous little bastards, perking up under your shirt and bra, sending jolts of electricity throughout your body. You closed your eyes for a moment and bit your lip. If crushing on a student’s parent was a bad idea, then jumping him in his own kitchen (with said student in the next room) would be an even worse one. Your grip tightened on the knife handle. Your voice came out tightly, “Yeah, I get it now.” 

Which was a lie. The only thing you fully understood was that Marcus Moreno was turning you on big time and you were pretty sure he didn’t even know it. A suspicion confirmed when he stepped away, giving you a small pat on your shoulder, “Okay then, let me know if you need more help.” He side-stepped back to where he’d been working, hoping you didn’t notice the way his body had reacted from being so close to you. 

Once again you heard the slight squeak of the door hinge and looked up. But, again, you didn’t see anything. Glancing at Marcus, still breathless, you asked, “do you keep hearing that? Or is it just me?”

Marcus went back, his focus attempting to stay on the food before him and the little bowls but his eyes kept darting over to you every few moments. Being that close to you made his chest tight and he had to stop himself which is why he asked if you understood what he was doing.

But when you asked about the noise, he paused, his ear turned towards the living room and listened. He didn’t hear anything but his hand came to his face where his thumb scratched the tip of his nose. “How much you wanna bet it’s the kids?” he asked and chuckled. “Missy is quite nosey when it comes to my love life,” he laughed nervously.

You found a quiet smile and chuckled right with him. It was really endearing the way Missy cared so much for her father. Marcus went back to focusing on the food, trying not to stare at you too long. If he had, he would have started blurting things out that he didn’t want to scare you off with. 

“That’s an easy bet,” you laughed as you went back to slicing pepperoni. This time you made sure to cut even slices. You knew at least one of the other kids in there would have a personal interest in what might be happening between you and Marcus Moreno. This thought made you frown, because you also knew his father had made it explicitly clear that he was not to admit to knowing you outside of class. 

You pushed the negative thoughts away and continued on your task, finishing up the pepperoni easily now that you’d cooled off a little from what had happened a moment ago. You set the knife down and went to the sink to wash your hands, “Is there anything else I can do? Or are we ready for the kids to make their pizzas?” Then with a sly smile directed his way, you added, “I can be on oven duty… to avoid any unnecessary calls to the fire department.”

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head, “You too, huh?” You grinned. It felt good to spend time with an attractive, grown man. Even if it was just as friends, or a helping hand. It had been a long time since you’d felt this content around another person. That thought probably should have scared you considering who he was. Instead, you felt a pleasant warmth flowing throughout your body. 

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, it’s probably time for them to join us,” he told you as he walked closer to the living room to call out to them. “Hey kids! Let’s make pizzas!” he called and suddenly an onslaught of footsteps and noises started to come from the living room, building louder as they all piled into the kitchen.

Marcus moved out of the way as Wheels made his way in. The kids all circled around the kitchen table and took a seat, making room for Wheels to slide his chair up next to Missy. Marcus moved the bowls from the counter and you helped move the plates that they were going to build their pizzas on and turned back at the same time as Marcus to grab the dough but you bumped into each other from trying to cross paths.

“We gotta stop doing that,” you giggled quietly and let Marcus walk past you. He would later admit to himself that the sound of your giggle sent a large shock down his body, like he wanted to reach out and touch you right then. But it would be inappropriate so he just cleared his throat and nodded and walked to get the dough.

The two of you stood by as the kids laughed and joked and flung a pepperoni piece here and there at each other as they made their own pizzas however they wanted them. You couldn’t help but steal glances at Marcus every once in a while and when his gaze met yours again, you felt your heart flutter.