#so sorry the guys look really pale in some shots…i tried

[sunlightfeeling]

TV Life Premium: 2012.11.3 Vol. 3 (2 Shots)

[sokuly419]

So now that I cried, sat in relative silence for about an hour, and had some time to sleep… I think I can make some kind of choppy ramble about Act 2. It’s gonna be long… sorry.

First, let’s just appreciate the cheap shots.

Jinx calling Vi “Fat Hands” after just absolutely dogging on each other.

Vi calling Cait a “rich, unhinged mongoose” and Cait following it up with “angry oil slick.”

Cait cracking Vi in the face with the butt of her rifle (seriously, girl, stop it) and giving the “I’m really sorry but you asked” shrug.

Vi spitting on Cait’s cheek just for her to wipe it across her lips.

Vi telling Ambessa to “just shut the fuck up.”

Guys. This act was pure pettiness and lovely.

Okay, I think a handful of people need to be reminded there was a time jump of several months. I’ve been seeing a lot of people accusing Cait of immediate rebound with Maddie and an immediate switch when she reunited with Vi. More on that later.

The way I started out mad as fuck because, well, Maddie. I did laugh at the way Cait kept pulling away every time Maddie tried to get intimate. Girl was feeling all sorts of guilt about it I think. When Cait made a comment about not thinking about it going on so long, it could either be taken as whatever she had going on with Maddie or about the martial law. I have a feeling they were going for the martial law situation, but I saw it as either. Either way, there’s some kind of realization that happened.

Honestly, Jinx was dishing it out the whole time and I loved it. All of it. She’s just a little shit. Jinx was never my favorite, but like I said before, I do like her. No hate here. And her relationship with Isha and Sevika? Come on. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Now, I’ve never played the game and I don’t ever plan to but I have listened to the in game dialogue or have at least heard some of it. And I’m so glad we got Jinx calling Vi “Fat Hands.”

Vi was a damn mess. I mean, we all knew it was gonna happen. But seeing her pale and sunken? Even after Jinx shows up? Ooooof.

The banter with Jinx was lovely. They’re just sisters and it shows.

And we finally got to see her actually smile. Only for it to be ripped away. Again.

Now… I want to address the seemingly sudden switch for a lot of things, particularly Cait and Vi.

There was a time jump of “months.” Even if it wasn’t flat out said, you can tell by the length of Vi’s hair. It doesn’t get that much longer in even a single month or even two or three, guys. On average it’s about 6” per year. Even in the trailers and teasers we got before s2 even started, I knew there was going to be a time jump at some point based on that alone. I remember kinda looking at my wife like, “Vi’s hair is… longer. Wonder when that happens.” I’m thinking this jump is around 8-10 months after Act 1

Anyhow, the characters had time to think and do things in that time. Cait probably finally started to realize her actions do, in fact, have consequences. And seeing Vi again was the final nail in that coffin. We watched her fold quickly. And that little “cupcake” sealed it. And before we start getting into the “I can’t believe they’re working together again so quick after what Cait did” let’s take a second to think about the Act 3 teaser. They’re gonna argue. 100% things are going to get thrown in Cait’s face. It’s not all rainbows and sunshine.

And then there’s Vi. People are dogging on her for essentially losing a physical interaction with Cait when she fought in a pit for a living for those several months. To start, it was an ambush and took her by surprise (Jinx was also able to land one hell of a slap by taking her by surprise too). Cait also had a weapon at her disposal and used it (seriously, can we stop hitting Vi with the butt of the rifle?). Now this is just me throwing some realness into all of this, but Vi was drinking a lot and falling into alcoholism. When you stop drinking, you feel weaker and sick and foggy (at least that how it was for me). I wouldn’t be surprised at all if that was something to do with how easy it was for Cait to take her down. Vi was likely going through some withdrawals. Again, that’s just some speculation and giving some real life attributes.

Now for them to trust and work together again so quickly? I think it was at a level of just needing to get something done and complete the “mission.” At least at first. The amount of care and love Cait still has for Vi was so obvious. Which brings me to… y’all should really listen to Oil & Water by PVRIS. It’s been confirmed a while ago (if I’m remembering correctly) that it’s about Cait and Vi from primarily Cait’s POV. Vi clearly still loves Cait but she’s also still, rightfully, pissed off and hurt.

Can Jayce just… leave shit alone? Just once. For the sake of everyone. Doing that to Viktor was uncalled for and now he caused even more problems.

I’m still not ready to talk about Isha. Because what the actual fuck. The music and flashback montage started and I knew… I just knew. The tears started and then the explosion and then I was full on sobbing. Not cool. I’m still in absolute shock.

Vi having to watch Vander die AGAIN. Give the girl a damn break, please.

Also, where’s Ekko and Heimerdinger? We need the unproblematic ones to calm everything down a few notches. Ekko just wants his tree fixed, man.

My thoughts on Act 3? I’m still hoping we get the Caitvi sex scene. But I’m also so scared someone else is going to die now. Like absolutely terrified.

“Hope you got a chance to, you know, before…”

I will simply give up on everything. Full on rage quit and I’ll end up like Vi at the bottom of that pit.

Someone please tell me I’m wrong and looking too far into it.

Or Jinx sacrificing herself? That’s a popular opinion I’ve been seeing.

I need answers. I need Ekko’s tree fixed and Caitvi to just end up together without question.

And this concludes this round of Arcane season 2 Act 2 rambling.

[bloodsalted]

@qapsiel || just remember. you asked for this. || oh maaan.

Sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding > maybe the rusty nail? :) :) :) :)

routine. fucking joke how that word ricochets in dean's head. a vampire nest was taking out innocent travelers and locals in a neighboring town far too close to home? dean gets reached out to. in turn? he reaches out to sam. they decide that since the bloodsuckers are knocking on their door? they'd go do some knocking back. get them gone. clean up the dark. something they've done countless times day in and day out since they were kids. long before they were popping pimples, they were popping rounds off at these assholes. nothing more than training practice for the bigger guys. nothing more than..

..routine.

til it wasn't.

there's metal where metal isn't supposed to be. deep. where metal, definitely, isn't supposed to be. dean can feel and taste the copper and thick pool of blood at the back of his throat. some slips out from between his lips as he calls. "sammy." cold rushes in. panic. adrenaline. anything his body can do to erase the blinding pain stemming from where he's stuck to the beam? it's speeding into the cracks and tears for numbness to take over. warp speed! overdrive. and not really succeeding. giving it's best shot, though.

"sammy." he hears himself mumbling through his brother polishing off the asshole that sent him flying backwards. terrified eyes meet his. shoulders encased in sam's hands. his brother holds on like he's keeping him grounded. here. whole. dean begs him, in his head and the way his hand braces a forearm weakly, not to pull. he tries to smile away the worry in sam's eyes, his breath, his jerky movements. sam does best to figure out what's wrong looking him over like a mother hen sensing something's just off but not seeing it face to face. yet.

"...messed up. ever zig when ya shoulda zagged? one of those.. a big one." then the sheer horror in hazel eyes once sammy realizes what's off--dean's head just falls forward to rest against his brother's chin. "it's okay, sammy. it's gonna be okay. where's cas..?"

the brothers are murmuring to one another when cas finishes the lingering fanged freak upstairs. 'dean--,' he hears the soft confusion in cas's voice when he drops down from the second floor landing with a solid thud that shakes dean's footing on rotten floorboards. makes him shake and tears sting pained green eyes. fuck it hurts! all of it hurts. '--sam?' cas sounds like he's ready to crawl out of his skin for answers if one isn't given immediately.

his brother's quick to gesture for cas to take over telling him he has to call 911. rather than provide him an immediate answer. thoughts scatter as anxiety and dread settle in. he has to do something! doesn't matter what dean said. he's gonna fix him, fix this. SOMEHOW. sam gestures from a rusty rebar near the ceiling to dean's chest, staring at castiel with a pale face and watery, red eyes. 'don't let him go,' the younger winchester begs. 'don't let him..' die goes unsaid. there's a mess of blood that starts as bubbles at dean's mouth then trickles down his chin to become a steady stream of grotesque dark red. the kind of red that comes from somewhere deep. droplets land on cas's lapel as dean's head rests on the former angel's shoulder.

"i'm sorry, cas. i can't.. i didn't--" this was all supposed to be so routine. he burns from head to toe and feels so damn tired. "love you, cas. 'm sorry." outside, sam's practically yelling into the phone. the hunter's voice rings in dean's ear. far off and distanct. he wishes his brother would just come back... a wobbly hand snags a fistful of the front of cas's shirt. he's not allowed to leave, too. his weight shifts, tears a howl out of lungs that feel like they're wobbling in his chest. slumping against cas, he sucks in a breath that doesn't wanna get swallowed. even that hurts now. "this wasn't s'pposed to happen.." they're happy. he's got a life to leave and he doesn't want to! not now that he has it! desperation. please don't take this from us! not that he knows what it's like to breathe away from the life he never wanted in the first place. god damn figures, doesn't it? some kinda sick joke.. and now he's pissed and scared and his heart's breaking as he looks into the tear-brimmed eyes of the one who loves him the most.

then again. he always did say it was gonna end this way. didn't he..?

just another part of the routine.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Someone tries to flirt with Adam and you get angry king of hell

*Cracks knuckles* Did someone order a jealous Luci?

Lucifer always knew that Adam was a good looking man. He was made to be perfect from the dust of the earth. With golden eyes the shined like sunlight, soft brown hair that you could run your fingers through all day and a perfectly symmetrical face and nice body, the first man has always been fine. Even now as a sinner with black and gold horns he was unfairly good looking.

So it really shouldn't be a surprise that other people wanted to date him or hit on him. "Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?" Asked some demon who came up to the bar where Lucifer and Adam were having a drink at.

Adam blinked at the guy, "You talking to me?" Sure, he had been hit on tons of times, but that was all by women. He wasn't fully used to men being interested in him.

"I don't see any other handsome men around. What are you drinking? I will buy you a round."

Adam looked the demon up and down, he wasn't bad looking himself. "Tequila shots and sure, why the fuck not?" He liked free drinks, why should chicks be the only ones to get them?

Lucifer was seething in his seat beside Adam. Who did this asshole think he was? Buying Adam a drink when he was already getting them from him?! The king took a deep breath, it was only one little shot. No harm in that right?

The demon handed Adam his shot, he had one of his own. "Cheers." They clinked drinks and downed the liquor. "So tell me." The demon places the shot glass down. "What's a pretty little thing like you, doing all alone in a place like this? This is a rough part of the city. I could keep you extra safe." He purred and tucked a stray hair behind Adams ear. Adam flinched and moved away from the touch.

That did it for the king. Lucifer was up and out of his chair and slapped the man's hand away from his boyfriend. "He has me asshole, so take a fucking hike before I turn you inside out and leave you in cannibal town to be eaten alive!"

The demon paled and backed off. Good. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! Fuck!" He left quickly before Lucifer could make good on his threat.

Lucifer turned his heated gaze to Adam. "And you! What the fuck was that?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "What, I just wanted a free drink. Figured I would save you a few bucks."

"Yes, because as King I'll go bankrupt over a $6 shot of tequila."

"You never know."

Lucifer tangled a hand in Adams hair at the base of his horns and gave a light tug, smirking at the soft moan he pulled from the sinner. "Are you going to make it up to me for that awful display you put on?"

Adam bit his lip. "Oh I promise I will." He gasped when Lucifer's lips crashed into his and they took to having a sloppy make out session right at the bar.

When Lucifer pulled away, he smirked at how breathless Adam was. "Oh I know you will darling ."

[dw-writes]

The Invasion...Chapter Twenty-Two

Summary: Mad Sweeney could not recall the last true believer he had. Sure, he’d been brought over as one of the Fair Folk, but it was different. A sliver of the truth, a dim shadow of what he was really owed. The belief of someone who followed traditions, not him.

That changed when he arrived in Cairo.

That changed when he laid eyes on you and he found that one didn’t have to believe in the myth to believe in the man.

A/N: I am.... SO SORRY. this chapter really shouldn't have taken me [checks calendar] LOL ALMOST A YEAR TO WRITE HOLY SHIT IM SO SORRY. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think!!! And i'm sorry ahead of time for the pain :3 (not really yall were expecting it) also enjoy the latest crossover to happen in this series. i hope you enjoy!!! :D

Chapters: Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four  || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two Requests: Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows One Shots: The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You

The Invasion and the Big Easy

Beautiful Aphrodite had only ever felt rage twice in her long life - once, thousands of years prior, as she watched the carnage that unfolded to retrieve the prize that she had given young Paris, and second, when she saw you.

You, sitting in an empty room, eyes glassy from too much alcohol and manufactured self-doubt. She knew what it was from, had felt your heart chip throughout the night from across the country while you fitfully slept under the concerned gaze of a new friend. Whispers of a voice filled the corners of the quiet room.

She turned to them, her incorporeal form non-existent to your unfocused gaze and the man who sat on the floor near you. The face of a young woman filled the unplugged television. Rose didn’t recognize her – it was some different form of Media, a newer one, a viral one. The young woman stopped whispering and met the goddess’s furious gaze.

The television cracked, the image disappeared, and the room fell silent. She turned back to you and watched your exhausted eyes close. The man mumbled, lifting his head to check you, then settled back against the wall with a sigh.

She made a note to learn his name and remembered how love existed in so many forms.

Elsewhere, Rose slumped into the arms of her two loves. They exchanged worried glances above her head as she mumbled to herself, “My poor messenger.” She sighed. Her concerns traced the cracks in your heart through your long day to the point she remembered last speaking to you, when you were happy, and the events of your day played out against her eyelids.

You stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a large and bustling Athens of a different age. Your bare feet were cradled by plush, green grass while a cream-colored toga fluttered around your legs.

“We haven’t talked in a long time,” said fair Aphrodite as she stepped up next to you. You tried to look at her, but her face kept changing, as did the rest of her. She cycled through so many features like an ever-changing portrait, each paint stroke melting into the next, all trapped beneath a pale pink robe that brushed the ground.

“Have we ever really sat and talked?” you asked.

She smiled. It lit up the world. “You know what I mean.” She nodded at you. “Nice toga.”

“I’m liking the breeze,” you replied with a smile of your own.

“Yeah? It’s nice, isn’t it?” she teased. You laughed, and she watched you, her features melting and solidifying into a face that was familiar to you. You cleared your throat and looked up at her.

“Sweeney?” you asked.

She shrugged broad shoulders. “Yes and no,” Rose answered with a voice that wasn’t hers. “I’m the goddess of love, remember?” She lifted a hand into the air. “Funny, I never would have guessed this, though. Not in a million years.”

“Which part?” you whispered.

She shoved her hands into her pockets. “All of it,” she replied, “None of it. You know, I thought I had a grip on these things, but you keep surprising me.” She smiled. You longed to see that smile on his real face. “Tell him soon, okay?”

“I will,” you promised.

You opened your eyes as easy as a blink, staring ahead into the purple black haze of the dark room. Sweeney snored behind you; a hot arm thrown over your shoulders. You gingerly wrapped both hands around his wrist and frowned.

Was it a warning? A piece of advice? It could’ve been anything – your friends weren’t always so forth-coming in their intentions.

You stared at the room, thinking over everything that had recently happened, watching the darkness become blue, then gray, and a watery white as the sun started to rise. Your phone buzzes with the alarm for your meds, and you squirmed out of Sweeney’s grasp to take them.

You washed your face in the attached bathroom, brushed your teeth, changed into different, cleaner clothes. You woke Sweeney and insisted he stay quiet to not wake anyone else in the house. As you two left, you wrote a thank you note for the parents, and folded up Mitchel’s number for the sisters.

“I hope they get in contact with each other,” you sighed as you followed Sweeney across the large yard. He grunted, yawning, and continued towards the water’s edge. His lit cigarette brunt orange in the faint morning daylight, glinting off a key in his hand. “Sweeney?”

His boots clomped over a rickety pier just out of sight of the house. A boat swayed at the end of it.

“You’re joking,” you called after him. He waved you off without a word. You groaned, looking back up at the house behind you, and followed him. “You’re stealing their boat.”

“Borrowing,” he grunted, placing the cigarette between his lips, “’m borrowing – we’re—” he corrected, looking up at you as he crouched, “We are borrowin’ their boat.”

You crossed your arms. “Do you intend to mosey on back up the river with it when we’re done in New Orleans?” you asked. He climbed into the boat. You looked back at the house again and scrambled after him, pinwheeling your arms to keep your balance in the small craft. “Put out your cigarette,” you wheezed, “Before you blow us up.”

“’m not gonna blow us up!” he argued.

“You have the shittiest luck on either side of the Mississippi, Sweeney, so I’m sorry if I don’t trust you saying that,” you snapped. He sat back, glaring at you, which you returned. When you didn’t budge, he slowly pulled the cigarette from between his lips and flicked it out into the water. You took a deep breath and sat down. “Someone’s gonna get back at you for that,” you mumbled.

“You were so nice yesterday,” Sweeney mused as he sat back, “What happened? Hm?”

“You decided to steal the boat of a family that wanted to help us,” you shot back with a shrug, “And it’s not even theirs! This isn’t even their house!”

Sweeney groaned loud enough to drown out your complaints, twisting around to start the motor. You braced against the sides of the boat as it started down the river, glaring all the while at his smug smirk. You settled in after a while, watching the trees pass along the riverside. “What was that about my luck?” he said as he carefully steered the craft.

“You have shit luck,” you repeated, “The only reason you’re not dying some wildly fiery death is because I’m here and I don’t have shit luck.”

He snorted, shifting on the seat, and absently twisted his warped coin charm around his neck. “Ya know, maybe you made me another lucky coin,” he muttered absently, “Ever think of that?”

You watched him before you spoke. His eyes were trained on the river behind you and he carefully steered down the gentle curves, keeping away from other boats and suspicious shallows. You didn’t answer him for a long time. You balled the sleeves of your denim shirt in your palms and pulled it closer to you, wishing it was just a bit thicker to keep out the cold air coming off the water.

“Maybe I did,” you finally said as the river became more crowded with boats. He hummed as he looked up at you, slowing the boat down and threading it through the crowd to the dock. “Maybe I did make you a lucky coin,” you repeated.

He snorted as he climbed out of the coat. He held out his hand to you. “Bein’ facetious, luv,” he grumbled.

You took it, swinging your bag onto your shoulder as you climbed out. “Big word,” you teased. He tugged you hard against his side. “But really,” you said with a small smile, “Always told you that it was about belief. And I really think those coins were pretty lucky if they stopped a bullet and saved your life.”

“We’ll see,” he mumbled. He squeezed your hand, then led the way out of the marina and into the crowded streets, keeping you close so that the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You eventually found your way to a less crowded area of shops. Sweeney slowed down. “Ya hungry?”

“A bit,” you sighed, “We didn’t really eat anything at the house since someone stole their boat.” You looked up at him.

He rolled his eyes and looked around, tugging you behind him to a food truck on the corner. He huffed, lip curling in a teasing sneer as you pulled out your wallet and paid. He took the food he’d ordered, and yours, and tucked a bottle of beer in the crook of his elbow as he started to walk. You followed him, taking your food with a sigh as you kept pace with him. He stopped at a statue of the Virgin Mary, then smacked the top of his beer against its stone pedestal to pop the metal top off, and chugged half of it.

You watched him, slowly eating your food, leaning against the pillar across from him. “Sweeney?” you asked once he finished his beer.

He buried his face in his elbow as he released an ugly burp. You whistled slowly. “Whut?” he grumbled, taking a large bite of his meal.

“Are you okay?” you asked. You set your food down, worry twisting at your gut, and moved closer to him. “You’ve been a little weird since we got here.”

“Just got here,” he grunted.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” you shot back. You crossed your arms, staring up into his face. He scratched his chin, then down his neck as he watched you in return. “I’ve known you too long for you to pull this shit and not expect me to ask you about it,” you gently said.

He continued to stare, his blunt fingernail scratching at the label on the bottle until it started to peel. He didn’t say anything, though. His eyes grew dark the longer they traced over your face, until, finally, they fell away. He sniffed and looked at the crowd shuffling past you, scratching the growing stubble on his chin again. “Just don’t wanna see ‘em,” he grumbled.

“Hey strangers,” came the call of a familiar voice. Sweeney groaned, dropping his head back with the sound, and turned away while you smiled and spun around.

“What a sight for—” the words shifted in your mouth as you took in Laura Moon’s new, fresh face and glowing skin, “Sore eyes, holy shit Laura.”

She smirked and twirled, holding out her arms. “Guess that old man doesn’t lie, huh?” she said.

Sweeney rolled a hand in the air, tossing the empty bottle behind him. “Then what, pray tell, are ya doin’ here, huh?” he sniped, “What, you figure that the quick ‘n easy don’t last?”

You looked up at him, struggling not to roll your eyes. “Really?” you whispered.

He shrugged. “Just pointin’ out the obvious,” he muttered.

“In a really asshole-ish way,” you replied.

He lowered himself against the pillar, leaning into your space. “Never heard ya complain before,” he murmured.

You narrowed your eyes, arms crossing over your stomach. “I call you an asshole a lot, actually. Pretty sure I use it more than your name,” you argued.

“It ain’t bad enough that it kept ya from kissin’ me though, ain’t it?” he asked with a smirk.

You snapped your mouth shut.

Laura’s voice was far too loud in the crowded street when she shouted, “You what?!” followed quickly by, “Holy fucking shit,” and, “It’s about time!”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, turning to her. “No?”

“Yes!” she countered.

“That’s not the argument here, the argument is how he’s an asshole for getting on your case,” you tried. Behind you, Sweeney started to snicker.

“Uh, no, fuck that, I’m over it,” Laura said with a wave of her hand. She closed the gap between you. “You kissed this sasquatch? Seriously? What, was it against your will, or did you actually want it?” She gasped, her face alight with joy at the first taste of gossip she’d had since she died. It really gave you a glimpse of who she had been before. “Did he tell you that he—”

“Ya here for the Loa, yeah?” Sweeney cut in, coughing on ill swallowed spit.

“That’s not important right now, is it?” she countered, glaring, “Is it really?”

“Course it is,” he replied, pushing away from the pillar. It was your turn to stare at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes as he walked past. “Second longer without my coin is a second too long, Dead Wife. Let’s get this over with.” You followed after him. He tossed the bottle into the nearest trash.

“What crawled up his ass?” Laura grumbled as she walked next to you.

You shrugged. “He’s been like this since we got here. I don’t think he wants to deal with the Loa at all.” You tilted your head, then leaned towards her. “Do you know anything about the Loa? I haven’t read anything, just know what he’s told me.”

“Not a fucking clue except that they can bring me back,” she said.

“Huh,” you sighed.

Sweeney led you both around a corner and stopped in front of a small building. Above the door was a sign that swung in the humid breeze, displaying the black rooster that had started to fade in the sun. He paused at the door, rubbing his neck, then he turned to you both. “Ain’t no backin’ out of this once we start,” he said. He stared at Laura, his face the epitome of sobriety. “You wanna do this?”

She rolled her eyes and yanked the door open. “Let’s just fucking hurry up, I don’t have all day,” she griped.

Sweeney held the door open for you, his arm brushing your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Stay close.”

You nodded and stepped inside.

(Rose frowned as the scene against her eyes shifted, showing you through the eyes of a goddess she’d never met.)

Bridget – lovely and strong – felt her heart lodge in her throat the moment you walked into the Black Cock. She knew the man you walked in with, knew the emotion that made him hold open the door for you, dip his head towards yours, brush your back as you passed him.

Mad Sweeney was in love with you, and you him, if your subtle lean into him was a clue, and he didn’t explain a damn thing about the Baron’s specialty if you have followed him and the woman there.

He was about to break your heart.

She knew all too well that not everyone enjoyed their partner stepping out, but even the ones that didn’t mind it never came with them to ask the favor.

He hadn’t fucking told you.

In the ten seconds it took for your trio to enter the bar, Maman Bridget’s opinion of Sweeney soured. Something must have shifted in her, too, as her husband’s fingers lightly prodded her back in question. She smiled, mirthless, and stepped out from behind the bar.

What a fucking coward.

(And then, there you were)

You watched the red-haired woman move around the end of the bar. She passed Sweeney, sharing a look with him, before she moved through a door you hadn’t noticed before.

(Imaged passed through your mind – piles of stones upon marked graves of women, women standing beneath weeping willows that shielded them from mist and shadow, drums beating against ears; but also, there were doctors in damp fields and poets writing by candlelight and rough handed blacksmiths and farms all framed by an ever-burning flame.)

You sat heavily at the bar. The weight of recognizing a two-faced goddess rested heavily on your shoulders and the back of your neck. You stared absently at a bottle in front of you, barely listening to the sound of Sweeney’s voice as he traded barbs with the man behind the bar. Your vision swam when you finally looked at him.

The man himself was tall, even lounging back against the back bar, with a top hat that made him even taller. He had deep, dark skin with the cool undertone of a clear night radiating from beneath. His bright eyes, while filled with humor, were scanning over your trio with a knowledge you couldn’t place.

The wall behind him melted away when he met your gaze. There was a history behind him, spanning centuries and countries, filled with celebrations and swearing and death and spirits and all framed by a heady smoke that filled your lungs and spilled over your lips on a shaky exhale. When you breathed in, there was life and sex and booze, singing and loud music and a sharp tang of spiced rum on your tongue.

You couched and squeezed your eyes shut to the man’s grin, bracing against the bar as you struggled to regain your composure. Beneath it all, you recognized a gap in your knowledge that ached in your chest and made your heart race. The lack of information made you anxious and it hurt. You refocused on the bar, scooping up a bottle near your fingers, and struggled to listen to the conversation.

“And when she is not around,” purred the Baron, his voice floating through the air, “I fuck a lot of other women.”

You were joining an already complicated conversation, you knew it, and maybe it was nerves clawing at your throat that forced your mouth open to say, “Doesn’t Maman Bridget help women with unfaithful lovers?” The air chilled for a moment, but nothing rang untrue in your skull. You glanced up from the bottle of pepper-infused rum in your hand. “What?” you asked, “I’m not wrong.” You were defensive, yes, your voice sharper than you intended.

The woman, who you knew had left through a door before, was standing next to the Baron behind the bar. She arched an eyebrow and smiled. “I like this one,” she murmured. She released the man and rounded the bar again, almost materializing by your side with her smooth movements. No wonder you hadn’t noticed her return. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you around,” she said, leaning against the bar, “The Baron might even warm up to you.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” you replied, “No offense.”

The Baron laughed – loud and full, a sound that echoed a little harshly in your ears – and leaned towards you. “She’s right,” he murmured, “I like you.”

You smiled. There was an air to him that was familiar, and you voice as much when you said, “You remind me of another friend who owns a bar a lot like this. I think you two would get along.”

He snorted as he leaned back, eyeing Bridget over your shoulder as she slipped behind you. “Maybe you could introduce us,” he replied.

Sweeney sat heavily on the stool next to you, grunting and leaning into your warmth. “How’s about we stop makin’ nice,” he grumbled, “I gotta favor.”

Bridget smiled. “From what I hear, it’s not like you to do favors, Sweeney,” she sighed and your smile grew tighter, “Hasn’t that been your friend’s job?”

You frowned at the way she said ‘friend’. Sweeney huffed, shifting in his seat and leaning away from you.

“The Dead Wife,” he sighed, waving a hand towards Laura on his other side, “Is dead.”

The Baron flicked the rim of his hat up and leaned close, spreading his hands along the bar. “Don’t look dead,” he said. He sniffed, long and loud. “Don’t smell dead, neither.”

“Smells Norse,” Bridget commented with a sigh. She leaned towards Laura and picked up her hair, sniffing it. “A bit Greek? A bit…” Her hand snapped out and slapped the side of Sweeney’s head. He started to protest when Bridget opened her mouth and let loose a violent rant of Gaeilge so fast it didn’t sound like words.

Laura leaned back to share a wide-eyed look with you.

The Baron laughed.

Sweeney hunched his shoulders around his ears as Bridget swore. Her voice dropped as she switched to English, “You lost the Sun’s treasure?!”

Your leprechaun swung a hand towards Laura. “It ain’t lost, it’s in there!”

“It’s not yours anymore, is it?!” Bridget snapped, “Not the Sun’s but some dead woman’s!”

“And she’ll only give it up if she ain’t dead!” Sweeney shouted.

The Baron stood straighter. Bridget’s mouth clicked shut and her eyes glanced past him to you.

“Why we’re here,” Sweeney finished.

“That’s powerful magic,” the Baron murmured, “With a steep cost.”

“We’ll pay,” Laura replied, unknowing.

Sweeney shoved his hands through his hair and leaned on the bar, ducking his head low.

It was quiet for a moment. The Baron and Bridget exchanged looks. Then, Bridget cleared her throat. “Come back at closing,” she answered, “We need time to prepare.”

Sweeney was up and out the door before she finished. You stood to follow, stopped only by the woman’s hand on your arm. Laura lingered at the door.

“You shouldn’t come back,” she said, “It’s not magic involving you.”

You frowned, feeling a calm warmth seep into your skin, but pulled away. “We’ll see,” you replied.

You left.

Laura waited outside, talking about places to stay, and started towards the main road like she knew the area. Sweeney shuffled behind her, and you after him. He didn’t look at you, didn’t slow to walk next to you. He just walked, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in his pockets.

The three of you eventually made your way to a small hotel not far from the French Quarter. They had one room left, and the cost left you lightheaded, but you dug the cash out of your bag and paid regardless. Once you were given the keys, you turned to see what Laura and Sweeney wanted to do until it was time to go back, but found Sweeney gone.

Laura shrugged when you asked her where he’d gone. “Dunno,” she said, “Didn’t even see him leave.”

You frowned. “Okay,” you sighed, leaning to see if you spotted him anywhere. “What do you wanna do until he gets back?”

A smile lit up Laura’s face. She led you back outside, and down the street, stopping at every shop between the hotel and the bar. You found ink for Mr. Ibis, an antique set of mortician’s tools for Mr. Jacquel, and a new toy in the shape of a bat for Bas. Laura found a cute dress, which she showed you only after you had left the store, and she changed in an alley. There were other stores, other things purchased or stolen, other smiles shared and memories made.

It was dark soon enough, and the two of you stumbled back to the bar in each other’s arms, laughing like schoolgirls.

Sweeney was already there, waiting, face drawn as he pushed the door open. He didn’t say anything as you walked past him, didn’t even look at you.

Bridget looked away from the Baron with a smile that fell the moment she saw you.

(Coward. What a fucking coward.)

“I told you not to come,” she said, leaning on the bar, “This doesn’t involve you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you asked, confused, a bit incredulous, “They’re my friends.”

Even the Baron looked a bit lost as he watched Sweeney. “Sex magic only calls for two people,” he explained slowly, “That who requested, and that who benefits.” He tilted his head. “And those who cast it.”

“What?” His words rang in your ears. Laura’s hands disappeared from your arm as she said something, then the Baron, then silence. Three sets of eyes burned into your face as a fourth actively avoided looking at you. “What?” you asked again.

“It’s magic,” Bridget said at the confused look in your eye, “Just magic.” It was like she was trying to soothe a burn, but instead of aloe, it was lemon juice.

“Potent magic,” the Baron added. He slid his hand up over her ass. “Only kind that’ll work for this, too.”

Laura whispered your name.

You smiled. You had to – for her, who you’d come all that way for, and for Sweeney, who…

The smile hurt. You’d rather the platitudes from Bridget.

You nodded, glancing around the room. “Yeah, I know,” you said, voice cracking, “Why we’re here.” You cleared your throat. It burned. “I’ll be at the hotel then.” The door thumped against your back as you reached it. Laura had the grace to look away as you fumbled it open and left.

Once outside, the door slipped from your fingers and shut with a heavy thunk. The hot night warmed your clammy skin and sunk into your clothes until you started to sweat.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Just don’t wanna see ‘em.”

“You’re a liar!”

He knew.

(He really was a coward.)

You walked, shouldering through the thick evening crowd as your thoughts wandered away.

Why were you upset? He wasn’t yours, despite all your wants, and thoughts, and wishes. He never was, and, if you were honest, he never would be. You weren’t supposed to be there in the first place, weren’t supposed to be trailing after a man who worked for a god you shouldn’t have met. You were supposed to be home in Cairo. In your bed. Alone.

Fading.

Dying.

Dead.

Your feet shuffled to a stop. People milled past you, unseeing, like you were just something in their way and not a person on the brink of an abyss. You couldn’t tell what you were staring at – a swirl of blurring colors that spanned what must have been the road or the crowd or the buildings, it was all bright and it hurt. Heat spilled down your cheeks and your vision cleared.

A shoulder clipped yours. You stumbled, the rest of the tears rolling down your face, jolting back into your body when you weren’t even aware you’d left it.

“I’m sorry—oh,” a voice thick with a deep southern twang danced in your ears. Warm hands brushed your shoulders. “You alright, darlin’?” Your tears continued. They wouldn’t stop, even as you lifted your eyes from the ground, up past a white collar framed by metal filigree points, and met a warm, brown gaze set into a tanned and tired face. The Preacher’s brow furrowed as he muttered a soft, “Shit.”

You shrugged a shoulder away from him, mumbling something you knew was a lie, but that might’ve also been an apology.

He followed, standing close, staring past you, then turned you around towards a door. You barely heard his voice. You tried to take in more of his features, wondering why he bothered when no one else did – his hair was messy but stood in soft peaks around his head, while the sides were shaved close, and a splatter of dark freckles covered the bridge of his nose. He spoke again, meeting your gaze when he did.

The air trembled around you. Something traced his words out onto the air. You could’ve mistaken the anomaly for a heat wave if it hadn’t been at the end of your nose.

He guided you through the crowd and into a cold bar. You shivered at the sudden change, you sweat suddenly ice on your skin. His hands left you to remove his coat and drape it around you. You watched him roll up his sleeves. Hs pressed a hand between your shoulders and led you to a booth. Two other people were already sitting there, arm against arm.

“Padre?”

“Jesse?”

“Now,” the Preacher – Jesse – motioned you further into the booth, taking up the edge seat when you complied. “This here is Tulip, and Cassidy,” he quietly introduced.

You were pretty sure you gave them your name, but you couldn’t be sure.

“We ain’t here for—” Cassidy’s voice cut off with a yelp.

Tulip adjusted in her seat, shooting the man, Cassidy, next to her a glare. She smiled at you. She was lovely. “You alright, hun? You look down,” she asked. Jesse next to you suddenly jumped, swearing under his breath. “Why don’t you and Cass get us all some beers, yeah?” she politely demanded. She even moved for Cassidy to scramble out of the booth.

You took her in as she shuffled back across the booth seat – her tight brown coils kept the sunglasses sin her hair in place, and her brown eyes were bright as she stared at the men at the bar. She wore lip gloss, and her freckles were just a shade darker than her soft brown skin.

She flashed you another smile, this one not as awkward. “You okay?” she asked again. Her eyes darted over your face. “I mean, you don’t really look okay, but do you wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. You mulled over her words, adjusting yourself in Jesse’s coat as you struggled to settle back into your skin, forcing yourself into the situation. Out of all the stupid things you could’ve done, you were led into a bar by a stranger, and stuck in the corner seat of a booth.

Though, there were worse things you’d done, too.

And it was a Priest that led you into the bar. Out of all the strangers, that was one that you could, maybe, trust more. And given the weird thing that happened when he spoke, it really reminded you of Anders, and you scrubbed your face with your hands with a groan. Fully covering your face, you dropped your elbows on the table and rambled out everything that had ever happened – from meeting Sweeny in Cairo, to sitting in the bar with her at that moment. Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you barely registered Cassidy or Jesse returning sometime towards the early middle of your tale.

Tulip took your hand and wrapped it around a beer, the polite look on her face replaced with a familiar frustration.

“Now, I ain’t one for religion,” she started, quickly rolling her eyes as Jesse cleared his throat. “Wasn’t,” she corrected, “But someone wanted us to meet because I think we are uniquely qualified to help you out right now.”

Cassidy slapped his bottle on the table, leaning in curiously. “Yer man really a leprechaun?” he asked, “Flighty fuckers, ain’t they?”

“I’m sorry?” you laughed, clearing your throat.

“Nah, I’m old, yeah, been everywhere in my hundred years, and I ain’t ever come across a shrewder or fucked fae than a fuckin’ leprechaun,” he answered.

You properly grabbed the beer and had a long drink. “And how—”

“Oh.” Tulip slapped his arm. “Cassidy here is a vampire,” she said casually, then waved a hand at Jesse next to you, “And Jesse has the literal word of God in his chest.”

“Tulip,” he sighed, as though it was a long-worn topic of contention.

The edges of your world became a little more defined the longer you sat with them. “A vampire, a priest, and a woman,” you mumbled, “I’ve been in weirder situations.”

“Yeah, alright,” Cassidy said, waving his hand in a circle over the table as he adjusted in his seat, “Circle back – how the fuck did ya land an invitation to the Oester party?”

“Oester?” Jesse whispered to you.

“Easter,” you clarified.

He nodded slowly and sat back, draining his beer in one long gulp.

“Everyone’s always clamberin’ for that, fuck, even the Oester in fuckin’ Qatar has a hard time gettin’ invited some years!” Cassidy continued.

“There’s more than one?” asked Tulip.

“You also said there were multiple Jessues?” butt in Jesse over her.

“Jesi,” Tulip corrected.

“I think it’s just Jesus, ya know, both plural and singular,” Cassidy mumbled.

“We’re lookin’ for God,” Jesse continued, sighing, “Big G, God. Was he—”

You shook your head. “Sorry, Father. Just Jesus.”

“Jesse,” he insisted.

The conversation continued in a similar vein, you giving them more details, them sharing their story. The table collected a large amount of beer bottles as the hours passed.

Sweeney drank just as much as Bridget danced. It was a dance she’d done numerous times, one that he partook in at least once, one she’d done in front of others who owed favors, who needed magic so desperately that they’d toe the line between death and sex just to taste it. She twisted in time to music that formed on the air. Sweeney’s eyes slipped past her, past the figures that appeared around her, to someone she had yet to see. She threw her head back as old words slipped past her lips, and spotted the figure, the one who clouded the Irishman’s mind as the world grew hazy and the magic grew hot. Bridget was grinning when she turned to him, traced her slim fingers up his thighs, which parted for her.

“And, for a moment, I thought you were hung up on the dead girl,” she crooned against his clothed stomach.

Sweeney snorted.

“But it’s someone else,” she teased. Her lips grazed the skin of his neck. He twisted his head away from her. His knee started to bounce. “Bet you’d be more into it if the Informant were here, kneeling between your knees.” She pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his ear. “Just as eager to take your cock as you are to give it.”

He shrugged her off with a growled, “Shut up.”

She arched an eyebrow as she stood, though that Cheshire stretched further across her face. “C’mon, let’s play pretend, hm?” The room filled with an eerie glow. Sweeney rose from his eat. “You be the burly Irishman.”

“Shuddup.”

“I’ll grant your favor,” she purred, voice lilting as Sweeney stepped closer.

“Shut. Up.”

It wasn’t her voice that said, “Make me,” but she squealed when Sweeney scooped her up and pinned her to the wall, anger and frustration brewing hot in his veins. It wasn’t her he saw when he hiked her skirt up and pulled her legs high around his waist, nor when he tilted her hips up and pushed his cock into her with no preamble.

In the haze, he heard the Baron and Maman Bridget laugh.

As the red settled over his eyes, he slid a hand up the back of the figure on his hips, swinging them around, pinning them to the column behind him. They were tighter than hell on his cock and warmer than the sun against his chest and he felt himself swallow his own name as he kissed a mouth he’d become familiar with.

The fingers in his hair were yours.

The thighs he gripped tight were yours.

The voice that mewled and moaned in his ear as he touched and bit groped the right places was yours.

And while part of him knew it wasn’t you – wasn’t really you taking his cock like you were built for it – the rest of him desperately wished it was, and convinced him to enjoy the fantasy while it lasted.

(Laura knew that Sweeney only touched her the way he did was because he imagined it was you, and she desperately wished her imagination was powerful enough to picture the man she kept telling herself she loved, rather than seeing the one she really did.)

Jesse fumbled with the lock to your hotel room for the third time, swearing beneath the din of a party going on down the hall. Cassidy stated that he was sober, that he could open the door, but Tulip hushed him and pointed out that he was carrying you on his back, so he was too occupied to do so. He didn’t argue with her, nor point out that she, too, was drunk.

You cheered when Jesse finally opened the door.

“’ey, I got it,” Cassidy said as he shuffled inside. You were vaguely aware of him ushering Tulip and Jesse away, of him telling them that they needed to get home, and to call a taxi or an Uber.

“You text me!” Tulip halfway shouted around him, waving at you as you were deposited onto the bed.

You flashed her a thumbs up before Jesse pulled the door shut.

Cassidy turned to you, rubbing his neck, and dug through the only bag in the room, mumbling something about getting you a change of clothes.

It gave you a chance to really look at him, really take in his features. He was tall, with hair long enough to stick out in difference directions, and soft brown eyes, and was freckled from his previous days in the sun. His voice was soft as he handed you the clothes and advised you to change. He steadied you, helped you tug off your stubborn shirt and put on your clean one, then sat you on the toilet and grabbed a washcloth.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, surprisingly sober, given how much you drank.

He knelt and started to wipe your face; his brow knitted together at your question. Then, he sat back on his heels, his arms draped on his knees.

“I’m a real right bastard, love—”

You swiftly corrected him with your name.

He lifted his hands, apologized, and continued, “But I ain’t gonna leave someone alone when they’re hurtin’.” He paused, then sighed. “Specially with somethin’ like this.” He gave you a small smile.

“I don’t deserve it,” you whispered, sniffling. You wiped your nose with your hand. Cassidy held out the damp cloth. You took it, chin trembling, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“You don’t,” Cassidy agreed. “Fact, from what y’ said, that Sweeney’s a fuckin’ arsehole and deserves an asskickin’, but that’s from the outside.”

You waved your hands, rolling your eyes. “No, I—” You sniffled against and dabbed your nose with the cloth. “No, I don’t deserve your kindness. I don’t deserve your company, I don’t…” Your voice cracked and dropped to a whisper as you continued, “I don’t deserve to be here. Someone else does. Someone stronger, someone kinder, someone smarter.” You hiccupped and covered your face with the cloth, leaning over your knees.

Cassidy sat on the floor at your feet, folding himself around your legs and the toilet as much as his long limbs would let him. He looped his arms around your back. “That’s the shitty booze talkin’, y’know…” he murmured, sighing gently, “An’ I dunno who you think is better. Yer plenty strong, from the sounds of yer story. Kind, too. Smart as a fuckin’ whip.” He frowned. “You deserve what ya put into the world, and y’ve put a lot of good out there.”

Your sob tore through his chest like a stake.

(Cassidy’s heart broke a bit and stitched back together with a bit of love he carried for you until the day he died.)

“Then why…” you trailed off.

He sighed. “Others just put shit out there, too, and that’s a bit bigger than the good sometimes.”

You scrubbed your eyes with the cloth until they burned, then sat up, wiping your cheeks. He took the washcloth, carefully wiping your nose with the corner.

“Know it ain’t much,” he whispered, “But ‘m glad someone like you’s here.”

“I wanna go home,” you whispered, and he felt it in his gut that you didn’t mean a place.

He sighed. “Me, too,” he said, and in that moment, you knew he didn’t mean a place either, and wondered if Tulip was right about the serendipitous meeting.

Your chin trembled. He helped you up, guided you to the bed, tucked you in, then sat next to you. He flipped the television on. You reached over and flipped it off.

“You’re a vampire,” you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder, “Tell me a story. Tell me your story. I’ll commit it to memory.”

He snorted. “Why you wanna do somethin’ so silly like that, huh?” he asked.

“Everyone deserves to be remembered,” you sighed, closing your eyes. “And everyone’s important enough to be remembered.”

Your phone buzzed on the blankets. Cassidy scooped it up. He tilted the screen towards you.

“He’s really enjoying fucking that dead flesh,” read a text from your sister, sent over one of the social media apps on your phone.

“That somethin’ she’d say?” Cassidy asked, glancing at the phone, “You said somethin’ about gods and the like, too, when y’ were tellin’ yer shit.”

“Never,” you whispered.

He turned the phone off. “None a that, then,” he mumbled, tossing it somewhere on the bed. He threw an arm around your back. “Get comfortable. It’s a long story.”

“Those are the best,” you yawned.

He spun you a tale of two kids playing at being Freedom Fighters in a land you’d grown familiar with, about how one died in battle, another in the streets.

You drifted off sometime during his re-telling of the 70’s.

Old stone homes crowded the darkness of your sleep, looming over you like specters of a past you didn’t know well. You padded barefoot down cobblestone roads and turned a corner to find your familiar library at the end of one.

“Hello, you,” you whispered as you made your way over, pulling open the clean doors. They creaked and slammed shut behind you. It was dark inside. Not dark enough that you couldn’t see, but the once warm candles were no longer lit, instead being scattered, and broken across the floor. You stepped over them with a frown as you walked in.

Thrown across the main room were books – the floor was covered in pages that were ripped and stained, and shelves were knocked against each other. You knelt to pick up a book and sighed. An ache bloomed behind your eye as sobriety quickly approached.

“Leave.” A voice in the sudden silence made you jump. You dropped the book, rising to your feet. A figure stood beside a tipped over shelf. Its eyes reflected what little light filled the room. You gulped, shifting back as it inched towards you. You scrambled for the door and the bright light beyond it, panic clawing at your throat as the thing ran after you. You pulled the door open.

Its hand smashed the door shut. “You don’t get to run away from this!” it snarled over your startled screech, “You don’t get to just decide it’s over!”

“Stop it!” you screamed. It roared against your back, then fell silent. Its heat surrounded you. You swallowed, turning to see whatever it was that haunted your library.

You stood toe to toe, its bright, knowing eyes watched you. Its chest heaved and its arms trembled. You shivered, backing up against the door. It stepped back.

“Who are you?” you whispered.

It opened its mouth and hundreds of names poured out. You covered your ears as the sound of them echoed in your head, pounding against your skull, everything building until it was undecipherable noise.

Fingers wrapped around yours, cold against your hot skin.

Rose opened her eyes, leaning away from her two lovers to pick up her phone. She’d sent a message hours ago, calling on an acquaintance she hadn’t met in decades, cashing in her one and only favor to him.

Her message was the address of the hotel and your room number, attached to the request, “Take them home. Cairo.”

He’d replied, “Done,” and dropped a pin showing that his phone was at the same location.

She sagged with relief and sat back against the couch.

The man saw the read notification beneath his pin, then slid his phone into his pocket. It was easy for him to pick the lock of your room – old doors, old locks, they were nothing for his deft fingers. Though, he swore when he dropped the lock pick, scooping it up into a wide palm as he checked the door. Satisfied, he swung the door open.

Cassidy looked up from gently prying your hands from your head.

The strange man looked around the room. The television had been unplugged at one point, as had the small clock radio. A cell phone sat on the blankets, turned off. And a vampire was tending to the one Rose had sent him for.

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Cassidy grunted, standing tall, making sure he was between you and the stranger. The man laughed harder.

The sound was finally enough to wake you. You pushed yourself up, rubbing your sore eyes, and squinted at the man standing in your room. He tilted his head back, somehow larger than Cassidy was before you. “Rose sent me,” he said, waving a hand, “Here to take you home. To Cairo. Let’s go.”

Cassidy glanced over his shoulder at you. You swung your feet off the bed, shrugging, still half asleep and not quite sober as you groggily responded, “Take me home.”

“Y’sure?” whispered Cassidy.

You looked up at him, smiled, and nodded. “I’m sure.” Then, you pointed at your bag. “Give me your number. I’ll update you. And stay here, at least until nighttime. The room’s paid for.”

He hesitated, and gave the man another wary look, but did as he was told with a shrug. He eventually turned back to the man again. “Wait, who’re you?”

The strange man grinned, his laughter finally subsiding. “Call me Iartaithe,” he answered with a wink, “It’s a name.”

“Okay, but why’re you laughin’?” Cassidy asked as he grabbed your bag. He fished for the pen you pointed towards, glancing over when you saw you rubbing your eyes again.

“Just absurd,” Iartaithe replied, “Whole thing. Absolutely fucking absurd.”

“Yeah,” you muttered as you stretched your arms above your head, “Tell me about it.” You waited as Cassidy scribbled down his number, then stretched to grab your phone and turn it back on. You looked up at him. “Can you tell Sweeney where I’m going?”

“I can tell ‘im to fuck right off,” Cassidy replied. You smiled. “Guess I can,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” you said, “He’ll worry.” Then, you frowned, wondering if he’d show back up at all, and remembered that, despite what you wanted from him, he really was still your friend. He’d show up. And he’d worry. But you also knew that you couldn’t stay there anymore, especially alone. You appreciated Cassidy’s company, but you knew he couldn’t stay. You needed to go home. You needed to see Bast again. “Thank you,” you repeated, looking up at Cassidy, “Really.”

He flopped onto the bed with a loud sigh, tapping your phone with his finger. “You better fuckin’ message, or I’m comin’ to find you instead,” he threatened, “Fuck God. He can wait another fuckin’ day.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, yawning, and stood, scooping your bag off the floor. “Promise,” you swore.

Iarlaithe leaned back against the door, and stepped out into the hall when you followed. You gave Cassidy one last glance, waved when he did, and shut the door on him and everything that New Orleans had brought you.

~*~Thanks for Reading~*~ ~*~Tag List~*~

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[notinthislife50]

Chapter 2 - The First Mission

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At the start,  every time soldiers came to take you on a mission you fought them. You would knock a few out or you leave broken bones. Sometimes other assets tried to intervene but ended up getting injured in the process, And the end result was always the same.  You strapped to a chair and tortured. It was now at a point where when you were called on a mission,  an alarm would sound in whatever room you were in and if there were people in that room they would have to line up against the wall. Leaving you in the middle of the room. The instructions were clear once the alarm was set you were to lie on your stomach with your hands behind your head. Once all the soldiers had entered and all weapons were on you. You were then forced to stand and escorted out of the room. When you finally managed to go on your first mission. Of course with Rumlow... sigh. You had to try and retrieve some case from some guy. You really couldn't care less.  What you cared about was you and Rumlow had to act like a couple which of course for him meant he could touch you. As you both entered the ballroom you stopped in your tracks. "Not as beautiful as you "Rumlow whispered right in your ear. "It's not the room I'm in awe by " you scowled at him "I think I'm a bit overwhelmed by actually being outside for the first time in 2 years" you hissed storming over to the bar. "Follow her ' the voice from Rumlows hear piece commanded "Y/n stay with Rumlow " your earpiece commanded. You rolled your eyes as you got the barman’s attention. "Tequila double neat please " Rumlow approached you and slid his arm around your waist. "Darling you shouldn't walk off like that" and he kissed your temple. "Look jerk I told you I'm not interested, please leave me alone." You turned your back to him. " Hey," Rumlow shouted grabbing you by the shoulder and turning you to face him. "What the fuck are you doing?" "Hey" a voice shouted from beside you both, "I think the lady said to leave her alone" "Look buddy this has nothing to do with you" Rumlow hissed not even looking at the man. "I think it has everything to do with me," the man said sternly grabbing Rumlow by the shoulder. As Rumlow turned round to knock the man out his face paled and he stopped. "Yes my friend, it has everything to do with me" the man smiled at Rumlow. "Well sir" Rumlow stuttered. "Step down Rumlow,  step away from the target" the earpiece stated. Rumlow nodded at the man and walked off. "You better not fuck this up," your earpiece said. "I said are you okay Miss?"  the target asked again. "I'm sorry just a bit shaken up. Thank you for coming to my rescue though" You smiled at Mr. Gaines. "Are you here with anyone? " Mr. Gaines asked. "I was meant to be " you sighed forcing yourself to tear up. Hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions. "May I buy you a drink Miss?" Gaines said extending his hand. "Chloe" you smiled taking his hand "and that’s the best idea I've heard all night Mr.?" "Micky please " he insisted. "And tonight you are with me, any man would be crazy to stand you up. So no more tears" "No more tears' you promised. After an hour and a few more drinks your earpiece boomed making you jump, you had forgotten all about it. "We need the briefcase Y/l/n." Again you rolled your eyes and took the earpiece out throwing it in your bag. Even though the earpiece was gone you knew there were still eyes. You and Micky spent the next few hours drinking laughing and dancing. Even though it was a mission it was the most fun you had in years. "Well my dear would you like to take this party to a more private area. I have a room upstairs with the most amazing view of the city " he asked. "I would love to" you laughed. When you entered the room you couldn't help but gasp,  the view over the city was amazing. As you stood on the balcony with the wind in your face you closed your eyes. It had been so long since you felt it. Your eyes shot open when you felt a kiss planted on your shoulder "Champagne" The target stated handing you a glass. "Thank you, it really is beautiful " you whispered looking out. "Not as much as you" he complimented. You laughed and said "You really are a charmer. I bet you say that to all the girls." "Only the most beautiful ones" he winked at you. You shyly smiled back but shivered. "Stay right there," he said handing you his glass let me get you a coat." He returned and placed his coat over your shoulders and took his glass back. You thanked him and you both started slipping on your champagne. When he came with two more glasses. You laughed "Trying to get me drunk Mr. Gaines. Your already my Knight in shining armor so I'm already planning on repaying you." You bit your lip and placed your hand on his chest and kissed him. As he deepened the kiss he took both your glasses and set them on the table. "No need in wasting time then" he took your hand and all but dragged you to the bedroom. As you kissed him again you pushed him onto the bed. "Feisty,  I like it " he smirked. As you tried not to be sick you slowly slid your dress off leaving you in your underwear. The Target slid himself up the bed so he was resting on the pillows. You straddled him and started to kiss him again as you kissed his neck he moaned. When you nibbled on his ear no sound came from him. You did it again,  nothing. As you sat up you stared at the sleeping man in front of you "Some men just can't hold their sleeping pills." You laughed to yourself. You then put your earpiece back in and turned it on. When you spoke a lot of different voices started to curse you out. "Okay relax the target is asleep. I slipped him the pill when he was away. Now I'm looking for the briefcase." you barked back. When someone was in the middle of ripping you a new one you found the briefcase in a hidden drawer. "Got it' you confirmed cutting off the voice. "Two men outside the door," the voice said again. You made sure your makeup was smudged you lowered one of the straps on your dress and didn't even bother putting your shoes on. You hid the briefcase under the jacket Gaines had given you and stumbled out the door. "Oops" you giggled and straightened yourself and swayed a bit. When you looked at the two bodyguards you cocked your head and pointed. "Have you two been here the whole time?" But they didn't answer "Shame would have loved to be the filling in that triple-decker. Your boss has my number maybe next time we could all partake. " You winked and stumbled into the elevator. When in the elevator you straightened up but you didn't put the jacket or your shoes on. When you got off Rumlow, He and a few others were waiting for you. "That was a dangerous stunt Y/l/n you pull that shit again ill make sure your under for every mission" "Alright relax here's your stupid case" you sighed shoving it into his chest. "Where the fuck is the toilet?" When someone pointed it out you marched over throwing the coat and shoes also into Rumlows chest. "Hold these" you ordered. "You’re not the boss around here" he called after you. "Yea and you remind us all of it" you shouted back. While in the bathroom you noticed the window. You shimmied out of it. Could you finally make your escape? After 15 mins Rumlow commanded someone go in and when they’d realised you weren't there,  full panic mood was activated. There was one person though who didn't panic and that was Pierce. "It's okay Rumlow consider this part of her training it will help with her stealth.” You managed two days. Then when you were out trying to find food you heard the beginning of those 9 words. "Ready to comply" you stated standing still. "Welcome back little mouse " Pierce grinned.

And so began you your cat-and-mouse chase with Hydra.

[lonesome-witching]

The World May Be Ending

@allnewtpir asked for season 4 with established ronance and I tried to deliver. This might be a bit shorter than I wanted it to be but this is just something to tide you guys over until I have time to write longer stuff.

You can still send me prompts even if it's taking longer to finish them. Or you can read previous prompts.

Robin hated herself for not being with Nancy when Fred died. Of course she couldn’t have known, but she should have been there. After everything that had happened last summer they promised each other to never part ways. But then peace returned and real life picked up again and stuff got in the way. 

Despite Robin’s interest in the school’s newspaper and especially the new editor, she couldn’t focus on the dreadful Hawkins news for long enough. And Nancy might have loved watching movies with Robin every Saturday night, it didn’t mean she wanted a job in Family Video. So, they had their time apart and it had been fine. Until Nancy found Fred Benson laying on the pavement, broken bones and all. 

The second Robin had seen Nancy’s grief stricken face, she had felt her heart break. And she had hated herself for not being there. So, she was not about to let Nancy wander off alone. 

“Nance, where are you going?” Robin shouted, walking over to her girlfriend. Steve was frowning behind her. 

“There is just something I want to check on first.” She pointed at her car. “I don’t want to waste your time, it’s a real shot in the dark.” 

“You want to leave? Alone?” 

“It’s really not a big deal,” Nancy sighed, her eyes looking anywhere but at her girlfriend.

“Okay, no. Steve’s got the kids, right? I’ll go with you.” Robin was already closing the distance between them.

“Hey, we’re not kids,” Dustin protested. 

Robin just grinned before turning around and walking towards Nancy’s car. 

—-

“Elvis cloned by aliens,” Nancy sighed. 

“You never know,” Robin replied softly. She noticed the way Nancy’s muscles were tensed up, the way there was a permanent frown on her face, the way she paced the room. “You know I’m taking this seriously, right?”

Nancy turned around, walking away. 

“And you know you can talk to me, right?” Robin added, the article in front of her forgotten. She got up from her seat, following her girlfriend’s previous movements and walking towards the girl’s back. “The world may be ending or some shit but I’m still here to hold your hand. I’ll always be here, Nance.” Hesitantly she placed her hands on Nancy’s shoulders, instantly feeling the girl lean into the touch. 

“I wouldn’t know what to say.” 

Robin’s hand slid down Nancy’s arms, softly touching the girl’s fingers before snaking her arms around Nancy’s waist and pulling her closer. 

“You don’t have to say anything at all. Just know that I’m here if you do want to talk. I might be excellent at rambling but I’m also a decent listener.” 

Nancy’s hands went to cover her own. “Thank you for being here.” 

“I’m always going to be here, Nance. You’re not going to get rid of me anymore.” 

—-

“Nancy, please tell me you were kidding.” Robin grimaced at the outfit that now lay on Nancy’s comforter. 

“I’m sorry, Robin. You’re gonna have to put my clothes on.” Nancy was smiling as she dove back into her closet to pick out something for herself. 

Robin groaned as she hesitantly picked up the pink blouse. She allowed her fingers to feel the fabric and groaned again. It wasn’t that she disliked the blouse, she was sure Nancy would look adorable in it, but she didn’t want to wear it herself. 

She turned around to complain once again just to see Nancy pull her shirt off. Robin’s eyes took in Nancy’s pale skin. The black straps of her bra created a stark contrast. 

“I’m not wearing a bra.” The realization dawned on her as she stared at the clasp of Nancy’s underwear. 

Nancy turned around, her shirt still in hand, her chest barely covered, and Robin briefly wished Nancy hadn’t been wearing a bra. Even with the garment on Robin could recollect what Nancy’s breasts looked like but right now it was barely enough. 

“What?” Nancy asked, a distant expression on her face. 

“I’m not wearing a bra and the blouse you gave me… well, I don’t think it’ll leave much to the imagination.” 

Nancy hummed, taking a step toward Robin. “You’re not wearing a bra?” She shook her head as if ridding herself of a troubling thought. 

“No.” 

Nancy straddled Robin’s lap. “You’ll have to wear one of mine then.” 

Robin simply hummed, not fully registering the words as Nancy leaned in to peck her lips. Robin sighed softly as their lips connected. The blouse slipped through her fingers as her hands found something much better to hold. 

She was already reaching for the clasp of Nancy’s bra when the girl pulled back. “I have a white one that might just fit.” 

[amostfoolishgold]

Lazuli doesn't carry weapons. Any time she's asked, she has an excuse ready to go. Fighting isn't allowed on the faction isles, she can't aim to save her life, a sword would ruin this outfit, isn't that what I keep you around for darling? But this is the truth of the matter:

The man says something. Lazuli barely even hears the actual words. Something about the points of her ears and her mother maybe. What she hears is the derision lacing it. She doesn't even really register what she's doing until he's pinned to the wall by her hand at his neck. She flexes her hand, makes sure he feels the press of claws. He goes gratifyingly pale when he tries to push away from the wall and finds her grip unyielding.

"I am going to give you one chance to reconsider that statement or, well, it has been a while since I last ate properly."

She could lure him. Coat her words in siren magic and force him to agree, but that's hardly effective long term and (more importantly) she doesn't want this to be easy for him. He nods quite frantically.

"I didn't mean- it was stupid, a stupid joke it won't- it won't happen again I swear!"

Lazuli smiles, a shark's smile with all those sharp teeth on display.

"Good lad. See that it doesn't."

She loosens the grip on his neck. Before he can really move, she slashes her other hand across his stomach. Not deep, he'll be fine as long as the doctors here are half decent, but he still screams and there's still a satisfying spray of blood. There's a handful of startled sounds around the tavern and the distinct sound of many hands reaching for various weapons. Lazuli pokes the man with her foot where he's crumpled over to clutch at his stomach.

"Call that a reminder."

She peers at the embroidery on his coat and the emblem pinned to it.

"Any Kestrels want to make sure your guy here doesn't bleed out?"

There's a moment of absolute stillness before a pair of Kestrels begrudgingly abandon their drinks and drag the guy to his feet. Lazuli gives them her most charming smile and layers just the tiniest bit of magic into her voice. Just enough to smooth some feathers.

"Thanks, he should be fine, just get him to a doctor."

She turns back to the table she had been perfectly happy sitting at and gives her companions an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that, what were we talking about?"

She licks the blood off her hand while being openly stared at, and she really might have to reconsider the whole not killing humans anymore thing because wow she'd forgotten how they taste.

"...can't you get kicked out for fighting on the faction isles?"

Finneas looks a little green as he speaks. Lazuli shrugs.

"I'd hardly call that a fight." That earns her a little chirp of a laugh from Neb, but a Look from Joanna. "Besides, I'd like to see them try and get rid of me. I've got some bad news for them if they try and make me walk the plank." She pauses. "And if I can't talk myself out from in front of a gun then frankly I deserve to get shot. Anyway! Jo, you said something about meteors?"

Joanna's face does something complicated, but eventually settles into a flush and she sighs.

"Alright, so-"

---

Blatantly yoinking ocs for this one lmao. Joanna belongs to @pacificwaternymph, Neb to @solsearchingnights, and Finneas to @finnified (unnamed bastard also belongs to finn because I was picturing Dante, I just couldn't really figure out a way to. State that that's who he is lmao)

I do have uh. Nicer snippets partially written but I realised I hadn't given Lazuli a weapon and then the image of her ripping some guys throat out with her teeth wouldn't leave me alone but I figured that was a bit much for a chill night out y'know?

[shadowphatom22]

Walker and his adopted half son Chapter 1

Again I am sorry that the first chapter got delated :(

Hello everyone, I hope you are having a fantastic day today I am super happy to say that the first chapter of my story that I have written is done and it is my first one I am super excited yet nervous!  

*IMPORTANT TO READ DO NOT SKIP IF YOU DO THEN SHAME ON YOU*

Naturally I do not own Danny Phantom which belongs to Butch Hartman. (Note if you have not seen the show I Highly recommend you see it before reading this if you are a newbie or you will not fully understand).

I was given the OK from @five-rivers​ to use this AU and turned it into the story that I am posting and I hope you all like it.

Lastly, I have been using different stores as my teacher, and I do not know all of them, I want to give a big shot out to you guys because without this story might not even happen. one of the authors is @halfghostwriter​, and there are so many more on here, fanfation.net, AO3, in other words, thank you.

I would love feedback however, I will not be happy if there is rude comments, I believe in you guys!

Rate T - M (Have not fully decided on the rate yet)

Now let’s start this story, shall we?

Walker and his adopted halfa son  

Chapter 1) Danny having ghost problem again?

No point of View

When ghosts are born there are different types, true ghosts are born in the ghost zone, then there is the undead ghost, which is after the life of a human is done and come to the ghost zone they are called an undead ghost. During this time both types of ghosts take months to stabilize and start forming, and they start as blobs with different lengths of tails and different shades of green depending on how evil or good they are dark being evil and cruel light green being good, and kind however the action of an infant ghost can affect the color of their skin, in other words, if they did something bad, then their skin slowly turns darker green and it works both ways too and for their eyes are the color of their core, and when they start growing into whatever form they see fit or who they look up to.

Unfortunately, that can be slightly hard for Danny however he does not know about this and it is a bit of a learning moment when it happens, luckily his not going through it alone, he has Sam, and tucker who have been there right from the start and helping him physically, and his sister Jazz who found out due to help of the psych bitch and her henchman, since then she has been helping him mentally, which is a good thing because his human has physically grown normally however mentally it some time goes on the same level as his ghost form, and it has slowly been happening more and more often, which of course is showing a red flag between Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, unfortunately, they don’t know what to do and they just think it is a ghost thing given that Danny is half ghost and half-human, so ghost habits and behaviors is a whole new thing for the four them, not to mention trying to make sure Danny, and Jazz’s parents do not find out, along with keeping the crazy fruiteloop away from them, and along with going to school so it can be really packed when redom ghost pop up out of the blue and like to give them hell and destore places, ever sense he got his powers.

One day Danny is in the ghost zone exploring the zone and trying to make a map because getting lost is not fun he looks at the time on his watch, reads the time of 8:00 pm, and decided to head home so he does not miss his 10:00 pm curfew. On his way to the portal to home, he spots Walker’s goons, and the best course of action is to void them because he is tried and he needs food, along with doing his homework for school Danny went in a different way, that leads to the portal while voiding walker’s goons naturally it falls and they spotted him, and start attacking him to bring him in while Danny keeps putting up shield after shield, something happens to Danny that both of Walker’s goons paled and become speechless.

See what happens next!

???? Goon 1: YOU’RE A BABY????

???? Goon 2: ……….. ( still in shock)

Danny: …… (looks confused while trying to look mad)

[llycaons]

ep49 (1/3): a shocking numbers of fans watched this scene where jgy cried a lot and fully swallowed his excuses. guys. guys.

oh wwx is annoyed as hell that jgy is dodging responsibility for everything he's done when he, wwx, never once denied his actions and bore the full weight of them and then some

more evidence for my 'jgy actively encourages lxc's crush even though he has no intention of ever reciprocating because it grants him power over him' hc!!!!!

oh jeex lxc looks like shit. I mean I guess he's had a rough couple of days. look at those eyes bags

lxc: I'm not your sworn brother anymore. jgy (realizing he's losing his grip on lxc): NOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭

okay to be fair I'm sure there is some genuine grief for losing the friendship and camaraderie of the one person who has always vouched for him, saved his life, supported him, etc. lxc was a wonderful friend and a powerful, steadfast ally. wasted on jgy!

you can practically see the forehead vein popping here. I don't think an lxc who fully understands jgy would ever love him. if xiyao is happening in some fic, either jgy is lying or someone's being mischaracterized. not that social factors didn't play a role in the things jgy did, but if you ignore his sadistic and vengeful nature, his willingness to murder innocent people, his unrepentant manipulation and deceptive nature, you're losing a lot of his character. for him to be someone who doesn't hurt others, he'd have to be someone guaranteed safety and respect and a position from birth. but that's so antithetical to his role in canon it wouldn't be the same person anyway

huh. why hasn't jgy tried to harras lwj more? I guess he got what he wanted and beyond lwj sealing himself, there's not much a reaction jgy can provoke

WELL. pretty clear choices here. jgy you could have packed up and fled the country before trying to kill a bunch of people and kidnapping children

lxc: why were you so cruel and murderous??? dude?? jgy: I HAD NO CHOICE BRO 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 you believe me right??? would it help if I did this 😭😭😭😭

compared to wwx's impassioned, rational, fair defenses of himself and the people he was trying to protect, this is so pathetic. wwx never denied what he did, never dodged responsibility. when he said he had no other choices, it was in defense of innocent people at risk of political persecution and mass murder, not in defense of killing people to maintain his own position, he apologized for the death of jxz and suffered his own death in retribution for even the best things he did

YOU COULD HAVE LEFT!!!! or idk, face up to the consequences of your actions

I am so so sorry to bring the marvel 'cinematic' universe into our beautiful liveblog today but this shot just screamed "Tony, you CHOSE to do that' to me

of course he ~nobly~ doesn't deny it ONCE IT'S ALREADY COME TO LIGHT. but he denied up until the breaking point because he's a slippery eel and it's impossible to get him to face any consequences for his actions!!! if I was lxc I would be exasperated to death too

NEAT FRAMING

ohhh this flashback is so skin-crawling. I really love how deathly pale the robes and jgy's face are. the red of the wedding robes and the decorations are so ominous and omnipresent, like something horrifying about to happen, like something inescapable. the music really adds to the eeriness of the scene

it always hurt so bad that qs was so excited for her wedding night. she was happy! she liked jgy a lot and always respected him and his mother! she was a good and kind and innocent person and she had no IDEA god I feel sick I hate him so much

jgy really never spared a single thought to qs's well-being. it was all about him, and his horror, and his choices, and his position, and the injustices enacted on him. self-centered to the very end. of course he didn't think he had a choice. he would never choose against his own self-interest no matter how many people he hurt. god, qin su should have lived. her suicide was such bullshit

oh my god SUCH bullshit. 'uwu but I worked so hard!' okay yeah I get it's a precarious political situation and the issue isn't even your fault but DUDE. you're placing your own power and ambition higher in importance than this woman's entire life. and you MUST have known you would have murdered any child you two had.

pretty sucky situation all around. shocking idea though. YOU COULD HAVE TOLD QIN SU

jgy truly goes through life as if it was a me-or-them battle for survival in every single situation. in his mind, whoever bore the burden here would be the one destroyed, and he never would choose his own destruction. and it does make sense based on his environment and upbringing. god, he's such a good villain. none of this at all excuses his actions ofc, but it's an extremely compelling and powerful motivator for a villain hell-bent on surviving, viewing every situation as battle to the death, and fully buying into being viewed as the victim of every scenario

another contrast to wwx! wwx hates being seen as someone who was hurt. he dislikes being viewed as weak or vulnerable in any way by his enemies (and often his allies), and the way he wins battle and arguments is though either his power or his own honesty. for someone who omits key information and lowkey manipulates many of his loved ones, his straightforward arguments are more often than not the complete truth

in case we needed a reminder of his active sadism at work. who gaf about his dad but those poor women were treated as murder weapons and then mass murdered themselves

oh I do not like this slap scene, and I'm glad lxc is horrified by it as well. the exposure of jgy's crimes has never retroactively justified the classism and oppression he fought against, nor does it grant permission to his social superiors to treat him like they're inherently better than him, such as with this slap

[ay4tou]

coincidence? i think not | samuel seo x reader

summary: samuel tries to get through the night until a run-in with you shakes things up. coincidence? he thinks not.

author's note: my samuel brainrot is at its peak right now so expect a lot of works of him 😔 | masterlist

You'd think Samuel would love clubs.

I mean, he does.

But he doesn't like it when he's there for work.

A club is supposed to be a relaxing place to get away from work. But now he's here for work? Everything about it pissed him off.

The pounding music, the fake laughter of his coworkers, and the way people stared at him like he was some rare animal. Tonight wasn’t any different, and he wished he were anywhere else.

But no. When work calls, Samuel Seo answers. That’s how he ended up sitting in the VVIP section, sipping whiskey and pretending he wasn’t seconds away from losing his patience.

He wasn’t planning to notice anyone tonight. He was here to handle business, not make small talk.

But then, you come up to him.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Your voice was polite and professional, but when Samuel looked up, he could tell you were nervous. You were holding a tray, standing stiffly, like you weren't used to it.

You were young and currently new to the job. That's why you avoided his gaze.

And that caught his attention.

“No.” he said curtly, turning back to his drink. He wasn’t here to play nice.

You hesitated, shifting your weight like you wanted to say something else, but then you just nodded and left. He figured that was the end of it.

He didn’t think about you again until he saw one of the regulars grab your wrist. The guy was leaning in, slurring something in your ear, and trying to pull away, your polite smile barely masking the discomfort.

Samuel sighed. Just his fucking luck.

Before he could stop himself, he was out of his seat and crossing the room.

“She said let go.” Samuel said, his voice low and cutting through the noise.

The man froze, his face going pale. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“Did I ask?” Samuel shot back, his glare sharp enough to silence the guy.

The creep muttered a quick apology and slunk off, leaving you staring up at Samuel with wide eyes.

“Oh God, thank y-” you exhaled, voice shaky, but Samuel cuts you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Don’t thank me.” he said, sharper than he needed to be. “Just stay out of trouble and keep out of my way.”

Your face fell. You thought to yourself. "I was just trying to thank him, so why the hell is he being so bitchy?!"

Samuel didn’t stick around to care. He turned on his heel and headed back to his seat, already regretting getting involved.

The next morning, Samuel finds himself at the convenience store near his apartment, looking for coffee... and a pack of cigarettes.

At least, it was quiet until someone reached for the last pack of his brand at the same time he did.

“Sorry.” you mumbled, and he looked over to see you.

The girl at the club. Of course.

“Small world.” He muttered, glancing from you to the cigarettes.

You blinked at him, then grabbed the pack. “Uh, I got here first.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes..?” you snapped, gripping the pack like it was gold.

Samuel smirked. “Can you even afford these?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him like he’d just insulted your entire existence. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me.” he said, enjoying how your face flushed with irritation.

“Man, fuck this guy.” you mumbled but intentionally said it loud enough to make him hear it while yanking the pack toward you.

"Sure." Samuel couldn’t help but laugh: two people fighting over a pack of cigarettes like it was life or death.

After a minute, Samuel sighed and let go.

“Fine,” he said. “Take them. Maybe smoking will help with that attitude of yours.”

You muttered something under your breath that he didn’t catch... or maybe he just didn’t care. He grabbed his coffee and left, the faintest smirk still tugging at his lips.

After that, Samuel kept running into you. It was really starting to annoy the both of you. At the club, at the store, even once at a coffee shop.

But somewhere along the way, the both of your bickerings turns into something else.

One night, outside the club, you and Samuel just end up sitting together while he smoked. You start talking about your shitty job, your useless coworkers, and your pet dog. It wasn’t until you ask why Samuel didn't like clubs that he realized he’d been listening to you for a solid ten minutes.

“They put all the attention on me.” he said, flicking ash off his cigarette.

You snort. “Yeah, poor you.”

Samuel looks over at you, ready to snap back, but you were smiling. Not the fake, customer-service smile he was used to seeing, but something real. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he just let the conversation drift into silence.

Around a month later, Samuel spots you again. Fortunately, you weren't working this time.

He watched as you stumble through the crowd, laughing with your friends and taking shots like you didn’t have a care in the world.

...Aand then you bump into him.

“Samuel!” you exclaim, grin wide and a little too bright.

“You’re drunk." he said, glancing down at you.

“You’re observant.” you shot back, giggling.

Samuel sighed, grabbing your arm. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here before you embarrass yourself.”

“What, are you taking me to bed?” you tease, poking him in the chest.

Samuel froze. You tone was playful, but something about your words stuck. For a second, he actually considered it.

“Don’t tempt me.” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

"I'm tempting you right now."

Your eyes narrow, and a smug grin forms on your face. Before either the both of you could think twice, Samuel leaned in and kisses you on the lips.

Fuck.

"Oh, so we're doing this now?"

"Yeah."

He leans in again for another one, but it wasn’t soft or sweet like the first — it was messy, desperate, and so fucking good. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair.

When you and Samuel finally broke apart, the both of you were breathless.

“Still think I’m an asshole?” Samuel asks, smirking down at you.

“Definitely.” you said, grinning as you pull him back in for another kiss.

[traumamade]

Todd nodded his head stiffly, still looking down at the ground. "Yeah, I was. And I... I wasn't... Great? When I first staggered away from there. I was around Arklay Mountain Range for a while, lost honestly after the bomb dropped and wrecked my place of employment." He rubbed the back of his head with the free hand, almost like a nervous tick. Well, that gave away where he had gotten infected, and just how many years ago it was. "But as I said, time went on, and my head cleared more and more. So like I told you before. I've just been traveling. Not a lot else to do." Not safely at least. Keeping his head down in the homeless way of life was smarter, at least for a simple civvie.

But the nervousness was slowly leaving him, as if telling someone, anyone, what he could remember had lifted a weight. Or maybe it was just because Leon hadn't shot him yet.

He tugged on his arm gently. "Here, hang on a sec-" Todd spoke, while getting his limb free from the agent. Now gently undoing his old jacket, zippe yanked down as he carefully wiggled free of it. Showing that he wore an old T-Shirt, with some old stains. Inside the coat was that old nametag, hooked onto the lining and fade. 'RC. SIG.COFFEE, Todd'. But that was not what he wanted to show. Nor the sudden sight of the fact he sure as hell did have muscles, more than could be seen under the ratty coat.

The man reached up and yanked his collar aside, nice and far. Showing a gnarly and ugly scar on top of his shoulder joint, in the shape of nasty human teeth. Dug deep. And the veins around it were blackened. The skin it's self grey there, but faded out into that unnatural pale tone over him. "See? I don't know what happened, if it's from the random shit I tried to eat, or if it was from the really big guy that took my depth perception, but... I'm still me. Mostly dead but not entirely."

"Everything make sense now?"

It dawns on him fast and all at once. The mention of Raccoon City always sets him on edge and causes anxiety to flare up. The name tag as well as the mention of a bomb tells Leon everything he needs to know.

This man is a survivor of raccoon city. How and why, he doesn't know, because anyone who got bit there shouldn't have made it out alive. At all. So what makes Todd any different?

"I'm....sorry about your job." It's an odd thing to focus on, isn't it? That is long past and a job isn't something to focus on like that but it's more than that. If Todd can read behind the lines, perhaps he can see the guilt in Leon's blue gaze.

"You were infected there, then. I don't know how the hell you're....you....but you were infected and the virus reacted to you in an entirely different way. Do you have any symptoms other than what you've told me already? Like, uh, hunger for flesh?"

[danmainacc]

FIRST SIGHT

Raph saves you from Meats Sweats and, quite literally, falls head over heels. ( header credit to qoeww ) 

Character: Raphael

Writing - type: One-shot

Warnings: fluff, kidnapping, a little bit of angst ( you know I can’t write without it ), meat sweats wants to eat you

Author’s note: I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I really wanted to wait until tumblr released me from my shadow-ban prison, but alas, I am still here ( 10 support tickets later ). I hope you guys enjoy !! Lemme know what you think. And know that I see every comment, even if I can no longer reply 🥹

…

A soft sigh left your lips as you looked out into the sky, the moon’s pale face standing out in front of the navy blue night.

This area of New York was an anomaly. Despite it’s close proximity to NYC, it almost never saw the effects of light pollution, the stars just as visible as they would be in the country.

You found this place not too long ago, about maybe a year or so. You had first moved and you decided to explore, to take your mind off the sudden change.

One thing led to another, and now you’re here more than your own house.

Another sigh managed to slip as you rested your cheek in your palm, the moon’s expression almost mirroring your sadness.

‘This is so stupid.’

You scoffed at yourself, scolding the growing lump in your throat into nonexistence.

‘A year in this stupid town, and not a single friend.’

Some could say that when you tried to make friends, you came off...strong...and loud.

But that’s just how you were raised. That’s how you’ve been your whole life.

Back home...real home...you were a hit.

Your friends liked you, your family liked you, hell, even the people that didn’t like you, liked you.

You were funny, sarcastic, a little clumsy, out-going, happy.

But shit happens.

Jobs run thin, and next thing you know you’re on a one-way flight to the other side of the country, no friends in sight.

You shook yourself out of it as you felt something wet rolling down the apples of your cheeks, the feeling almost foreign.

You placed a hand on your face, pulling it back to see that, yes, you were crying.

You scoffed, shaking your head in disappointment as your cheek returned to your palm, the tears now flowing.

‘Pathetic.’

Sighing, you took out your phone, checking the time to see that it was way past your curfew.

Yet not a single text from Dad.

You groaned, standing up from your spot on the ledge and hooking your ankles onto the nearest gutter, clinging onto it and sliding down like a fire-pole.

When you landed, you came face to face with your usual alley.

Now, you knew it wasn’t the best idea to take a dark alley home every night, but it cut the normal walking time in half. And if you walked fast enough, you could surely be home before anyone noticed you were there.

Letting go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you started on your way, keeping your pace at a power walk.

Though for some reason, the alley seemed different. There was a eerie, almost non-human, feeling to it.

The lights were flickering more than usual, the air was filled with the smell of food, and at times, you could’ve sworn you heard a pig snort.

‘You’re goin’ crazy.’

Just then, you noticed a large shadow that sat not too far in front of you.

It was in the shape of a food truck.

A food truck that wasn’t there two seconds go.

‘Nope.’

Now breaking into a sprint, you tried your best to get past it, seeing as the vehicle was blocking the only exit.

But just as you made it past, something grabbed you by your backpack, harshly pulling you back and holding you up.

“Well, well, well. What ‘ave we got here?” the person creepily smirked, licking his lips.

You couldn’t make out his face in the darkness, but you could make was his overwhelming scent of dirty pig.

“A teenage girl. Nice and plump in all the right places.”

He creepily poked at your hips and stomach, the touch making you retreat into yourself, trying to get away.

“I’d say you’d make a good chili.”

Your heart came to a screeching halt at those words, all the air in the world seeming to disappear.

‘Did he just say...I’d make a good chili?!’

And just as you were about to scream, the man hit you upside the head with the butt of his meat tenderizer.

...

You woke up to see that you were tied up in butcher’s twine, resting on top of a surprisingly large cutting board.

Suddenly, you remembered the words of the man just before you blacked out.

‘I gotta get out of here!’

Lifting your head, you saw him standing next to a very large pot, bringing what looked to be stock to a nice boil.

And not only that, but he was apparently a pig-man-hybrid-thing.

‘Don’t even wanna know.’

Hearing something clink behind you, you realized that the pig man left his knife on the cutting board with you.

You grabbed it, shaving down your ropes until you came loose, and then tucking it into your bomber jacket for save keeping.

Quietly standing up, you tiptoed off the cutting board, taking a step onto the food truck floor, only for it to make the loudest creak the world has ever heard.

“For fuck’s sake!” you groaned, making a run for the door.

“Oh, no you don’t!” the pig man shouted, tossing a butcher’s knife at you.

It landed in the door and stopped you from reaching for the handle, letting him grab you and hoist you up once more, as if you were nothing.

“Whetha you lioke it or not, I’m turning you into chili. And there ain’t nobody around to save ya.”

The realization of your situation finally sunk in.

You were trapped in this pig-man’s food truck of horrors, and were about to be made into a chili for him to eat.

No one knew where you were, or where to find you. And there would probably be no evidence left, since you’d be halfway through his digestive track before morning.

You let out a blood-curdling wail of anguish, shocking the hybrid man.

The wail slowly turned into a sob, no doubt getting the attention of those in nearby apartments.

“Quiet, you!” he shouted, punching you in the face and letting you drop to the floor.

Your head throbbed so hard it was practically audible, and you wanted nothing more in this moment than to be absorbed into the ground and dropped into the safety of your room.

“Now, I gotta get to chopping before this stock boils over,” the pig man smirked.

And just as he was about to grab you, a large, green figure burst through the wall of the truck, knocking the pig-man out the door.

“You stay away from her--.” Raph’s breath hitched as his eyes landed on you, one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen, sitting on the ground.

His heart banged aggressively against his plastron, and despite his cold blood, he felt warm all over.

He couldn’t place his finger on what it was about you. Your hair, your soft eyes, *cough* *cough* your shorts.

But what he knew for sure was that he had to save you.

Yet that rendered him unable to save himself when she tripped over his own feet.

He fell flat on his face, shaking the foundation of the truck.

Now for you....to say you were shocked, would be an understatement.

You just found out today that pig-hybrids and turtle men exist, and one was laying on the floor not too far in front of you.

But he saved you from the creepy guy, so the least you could do was check to see if he was alright.

“Hey,” you chimed, slowly approaching and giving him a soft poke on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? That was a really hard fall.”

Little did you know that the turtle next to you was as giddy as a schoolboy.

You touched him! And not only that, but you talked to him. 

Your voice was so soft and silky, yet firm it its tone. God, he could listen to you talk for hours.

“Hello?” you asked, wondering if he fell unconscious.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, jumping back up and startling you. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m a little clumsy.”

He warmly smiled, making something in your stomach flutter.

“It’s alright,” you assured, standing up.

“This might sound cheesy, but I’m kinda here to save you,” he sheepishly explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled back at him, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “That’s great, cause I am in desperate need of saving.”

He chuckled as well, taking a step closer to you and holding out his arms. 

“May I?” he asked politely.

You nodded, him scooping you up in his arms and jumping out the hole he first came in through.

And now that you had time to truly rest, you took the oppurtunity, resting your head on the man’s plastron as you fought to keep your eyes open.

You don’t know why you were trusting this man so easily. There was something about him that just made him so comforting.

As your eyes fluttered shut, Raph had to use all his self-control to keep himself from swooning.

Even asleep, with hair disheveled and a slightly bloody nose, you still looked goregous. 

And the fact that he was able to be so infatuated, so enamored with you from first glance, was startng to scare him.

But scary or no, he had to face the facts:

He fell for you. And hard.

...

[lovinkiri]

I’m a whore for boyfriends that’ll defend their bae from anyone hitting on them, especially when they talk shit about messing someone up 😩

Can I request head cannons of Bakugo, Sero, Aizawa, and Shinsou react to some random hitting on their gf (even though she’s warning telling the bastard that she’s happily taken)? I love seeing guys go from 0-100 when someone tries to hit up their loves 🥺

Back Tf Off

Author's Thoughts: Okay but Bakugou just-

Warning: Swearing, Threats, etc.

Katsuki Bakugou

You guys were on a date.

And let me tell you guys something: You don't wanna disturb this man when he's on a date.

Like will answer work calls, but you can hear the aggression.

Answers other calls too, but only to scold whoever is calling.

And when fans come over, they don't get autographs or pictures.

And he'll straight up tell them to beat it.

So when your date is interrupted by some asswipe who is staring at your tits so hard that he doesnt notice your man right next to you?

He loses it.

He was chill, hand in yours, face relaxed and just calm over all.

Now he looks like he's going to kill the guy.

"I'm gonna tell you one time to fuck off before I blow you to pieces, fucking extra."

And by this point, it's been a while since Katsuki's called anyone an extra so you know he's serious.

The guys decides he's not gonna take Katsuki's shit though.

So Katsuki, being the good man that he is, does not immediately blow him up.

He instead grabs his neck and allows his hand to heat up.

"I'm on a fucking date. The sun is fucking shining. The birds are fucking singing. And my date looks good as fuck. Today has been a pretty good day. You really wanna ruin that for me? Because if you ruin today, I'm going to ruin your fucking life."

Even your eyes go wide.

And the guy is begging for forgiveness, apologizing, just wanting to leave now.

And Katsuki chucks him away and scoffs, wrapping an arm around you.

And a few minutes later, like that didn't happened, he's like "Yo, wanna hit up that ramen place?"

Hanta Sero

You guys were grocery shopping.

Hanta likes to do your shopping together because it's more time he gets to spend with you.

And you guys were having fun.

Hanta was making eggplant jokes and earning dirty looks from grannies.

And your laughter was music to his ears.

He walks away for a minute just to grab some fruit.

And when he returns, some dude is flirting with you.

Hanta's a lil sadist and kind of a jackass, so he watches from afar to see the guy get shot down.

But the thing is, he doesn't leave when you shoot him down.

No, he presses on.

And this is when his smirk falls.

Because oh shit, this guy is reaching out to touch you.

And suddenly, the guy's wrist is all taped up and he's yanked straight into Hanta.

And he smiles aggressively at the poor asshole.

"I believe the lady said she had a boyfriend."

And off course he scoffed and struggled to remove the tape. "So? And who the fuck are you? Mind your business."

Hanta bring his face closer, the tape tightening to the point of numbness.

"I'm the fucking boyfriend, dickfuck. Así que vete a la mierda."

("Así que vete a la mierda" = "So back the fuck off")

The guy apparently speaks Spanish because he goes pale during that last part and runs off as soon as the tape is removed.

And Hanta is immediately doting on you.

"Are you okay, baby? C'mon, let's get you some snacks. That guy was such a dick, I'm sorry that happened."

Shouta Aizawa

👆🏾👆🏾👆🏾👆🏾👆🏾

That's what happens lol

Lemme explain.

Shouta was upset about some criminal he couldn't catch.

The guy was just too quick.

And so you suggested going to the animal shelter to take his mind off it.

He disagreed at first, but then you said cats and he was sitting in the car like "C'mon, let's go" 😭

After a day if playing with cats, he feels better.

He's even smiling!

And when it's time to leave, he takes a bit longer because he's saying goodbye to all of the cats.

And you go outside to wait, wanting some fresh air.

A creepy guy approaches and calls you sexy, comments on your hips, then asks for your number.

Of course, you shoot him down and tell him you're married.

But he's not having it.

And he moves in with a "C'mon don't be be like"

And that's when Aizawa walks out.

He has no idea what happened before he came out, but he does not like what he's seeing.

So he immediately moves in front of you to stare down the guy..

Who is the fucking criminal who keeps getting away.

And he wastes no time tying him up, getting him down, and stomping the shit out of him.

You escape him, ruin his nap, and sexual harrass his wife?

Oh that guy was fucked from the moment he approached you.

Aizawa takes a pleasant walk with you to the police station.

Dragging the guy behind him.

But just telling you about why he liked each cat.

"The gray one was pretty calm, the black one too. The white one, Snowball, she really got comfortable with me. We should get a cat or a couple."

Hitoshi Shinsou

I'd hate to be the bastard who pisses off Hitoshi.

It's hard to get him that mad honestly.

And when you do get him mad, it upsets him more because you brought him out of his character.

The thing is, he was in a great mood when it happened.

You guys were shopping, and he was watching you try on a couple things.

You asked him to go grab a certain pair of jeans you'd forgotten to grab.

And he did so with no complaints, just a sarcastic "Yes dear" and a teasing smile.

While he's gone, a guy who had been watching from afar approaches your dressing room and knocks on the door.

He starts flirting and you immediately shut him down and tell him you're taken.

But he's just like "Oh that guy that was just here? He looks like a zombie, babe. Don't you think it's time to level up."

And he attempts to peek into your dressing room.

But Hitoshi is there to wrap his scarf around the guy and tank him back to the floor.

"This zombie is going to rock your shit if you don't get up and screw off in the next 5 seconds."

He's a runner, he's a trackstar 🏃🏃🏃

You thank Hitoshi and he lets you know he's just glad you're okay.

"So where are the jeans?"

"The what? Oh right. Yeah, I got distracted and brought you lingerie instead."

[mxmentos]

rewrite the stars.

character(s) ; mona x gn!reader genre ; star-crossed lovers word count ; 1007 cw/tw ; very annoyed mona, not proofread (when is it ever) a/n ; told yall ill make y/n the good guy this time <3 i wrote this in a rush, you can tell by the ending 💀💀 sorry for the lack of content- and yes, the old hag is mona's mother in this au lol

“are you out of your mind?!”

your grip on mona’s arm loosened, but your fingers remained firm and made sure she couldn’t escape. you weren’t done with this woman just yet. mona’s pale green eyes flashed at yours with anger, grunts escaping her parted lips as she tried to free herself from your grip. 

“[name], i demand you to release me at once! do you know who i am? i’m the daughter of the most praised astrologer in the entirety of teyva-”

“will you quiet down, star-lady? i’m trying to get us out of here.”

“star-lady?! i will not let myself be disgraced with such preposterous nicknames. release me at onc-”

you placed your free-hand over mona’s lips, muffling her strained voice from escaping into the woods. “you’ve been hanging out with fischl a bit too much, haven’t you?” you whispered, listening keenly to make sure the two of you were alone.

“no sign of the old hag’s guards here, mona. there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“that’s not who i’m afraid of,” mumbled mona. you removed your hand from her lips, finally letting go of her arm. mona was extremely upset with you. she knew you were an idiot, but she never would’ve imagined you do this sort of thing. her cheeks flushed with rage as she began to unleash all her anger on you.

“what. were. you. thinking? grabbing my hand as i was plucking berries in the royal garden, and running at full-speed! did you not take a pause and think about the possibility of my master, who was admiring the stars in the balcony, taking a glance below and seeing me carried off to the woods by some lunatic i fell in love with? and how would you consider…”

mona continued along with her rant, but you weren’t really listening to what mona was saying. she stood before you, her deep violet hair illuminated by the moonlight alone. arms crossed, she strutted back and forth, angrily rambling about how careless you were. you admired everything about her; the quick movements she made with her fingers, the way her ponytails swayed along as she strutted back and forth… oh, you were so in love with the woman in front of you.

“...we could’ve been in so much trouble. are you even listening to me?”

you let out a soft chuckle, which made mona’s cheeks burn even more. she didn’t know if she was angry at you or happy to see both of you together in the forest, free from both of your families, and ready to burn the woods with your desires. but alas, she knew that wouldn’t happen; there were too many faults in the stars to ignore.

“[name], don’t you understand? i can’t go back… because of you! and now i’m stuck with you and i don’t have anywhere else to go… just the thought of me waking up to see your ugly face in the morning makes me sick-”

“mona… we both know that you wanted it.”

mona's pupils dilated at the sound of that. “wanted… what?” mona shot a puzzled look at you, but you knew her true intentions. she wasn’t ready to talk about the subject of you and her being together. the both of you were deeply in love the moment the delicate thread of your fate interlocked with hers, tying a beautiful knot. but the both of you knew that unless you did something about it, that knot will slowly fall apart, and the threads that once held each other would finally let go.

“you wanted to be free. to be free and roam across the woods. so what if we cause a forest fire? at least the forests would burn from the desires in our hearts. my longing to be with you grows by the day, and im sure that in the depths of your delicate heart, you have that same longing. mona, the universe has destined our relationship.”

mona bit her lip; as much as she wanted to believe you, she just couldn’t. she could never forget the fine morning when she decided to dive into the depths of the stars, wanting to see the path of destiny laid out for you and her. saying that the path was not charted the way she expected it to would be a bit of an understatement.

“[name], our story is inscribed in the stars, the universe only guides us to the path foretold.”

you let out a deep sigh; unlike mona, you didn’t believe in astronomy. how would you let a few specs in the sky determine your fate? it sounded extremely unrealistic, but you made sure not to mention it to mona. 

“listen, [name], as much as i want to be with you, there is simply no reality in which we would have a happy ending. you know how much the megistus family despises you and your family. besides, the stars don’t paint a pretty picture of us in the sky. i think that it’s… better if we stayed apart.”

no. that wasn’t true, and you both knew it.

you wanted to be with her, even though it would all end up in flames. there’s not a second that went by without you thinking about her. your heart was aching from the distance between you and mona, you couldn’t be separated from her any longer. and you knew that deep down, she felt the same. 

“don’t you get it, [name]? the stars have been inscribed with our fates. must you continue with your pointless convincing?”

mona looked at you with starry eyes, a tear trickling down her cheek. she wanted to believe you, she really did, but the stars said otherwise. you gently cupped her cheeks, causing her cheeks to flush. as you stared more into her eyes, you could see endless galaxies spanning across, hiding the truth of the universe. 

“...why do you keep fighting for a future you know we can’t cherish?”

“because if the stars were truly written, then we can rewrite it.”

fic by @/mxmentos on tumblr. do not repost this fic without my permission.

[hotcoffeetransformation]

Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

Jason laughed again

"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...