#so you know read at your own risk and all that jazz

[silverskye13]

I just started reading paladins grace from your recommendation (just as in I've only just finished the first chapter)

INSTANTLY I am intrigued, and I think I can see a bit of how it might've influenced your style? or maybe that's just cause I'm looking for it, who knows. it seems like it has a very interesting world right off the bat.

anyways, thank you for the fic and the book recommendation!

It's definitely influenced my style XD my style fluctuates a lot depending on what I'm reading anyway, and I've reread the SoS books many many times.

The world is definitely very cool! It has an extended universe as well, and if you find yourself liking it, I recommend also giving The Clocktaur Wars and Swordheart a try.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week. 

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.” 

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic. 

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him. 

“You almost finished, baby?” 

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.” 

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze. 

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality. 

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes. 

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you. 

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply. 

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed. 

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different. 

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him. 

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way. 

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing. 

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. 

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms.  Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist. 

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless. 

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you. 

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.” 

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

[impishjesters]

I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good

How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)

If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

Leaning on one another

warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol

Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.

He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.

So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.

He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.

Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)

If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.

In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.

Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.

He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.

That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)

He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.

Bonus

Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.

The first question out of his mouth is:

“Is that fucking jazz?”

“No, just normal jazz.”

That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.

When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.

You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.

Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.

Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 18 - "We can't do this on our own."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight mentions of DannyXBruce ship

A/N: Inspired by the comments and Reblogs of Prompt 17. I advise to read that one first before reading this, also posting this early because I won't have the time to do that tomorrow. Credits for inspiring this continuation go to @charlietheepic7 and @noxcheshire

After the babysitting disaster Dick had sworn Tim and Damian into secrecy about. The bat-sibling had quickly warmed up to the phantom children and invited them several more times to visit them at the manor. Damian had even doubled his efforts in getting along with them, still believing they were his half siblings, despite Bruce having tried to explain to them in private that this wasn't the case.

Of course that didn't mean that Damian wasn't butting heads with them at all, in fact they were only sitting together like this now because Damian and Dan had gotten into a fight about whether or not Phantom was an adequate partner for Bruce. Dan appeared to have taken offense to that in some form and declared that Bruce was the one not suited to be with his Mom.

The fight ended with Dani, five years old little girl Dani, kicking down both Damian and her own brother, before proceeding to sit on Dan while loudly yelling that he was risking their entire plan of setting up their Mom with Uncle Bruce so Auntie Valerie would stop trying to be their Step Mom. Which brought them back to their current situation of the five of them sitting together in the main hang out room.

Dan grumbled inaudible, arms crossed and glaring at the bat children assembled before him. Dani giggled, nudging her big brother's leg. "Don't go nonverbal now!"

"Nonverbal?" Dick couldn't help but question, causing Dan to snarl at him while Dani still smiled very brightly at them.

"Big Brother sometimes only talks in growls and snarls. Auntie Jazz said it's got something to do with what he's been through. Mom says big brother isn't socialized enough yet." The boy only growled, glaring at them while he pulled the little girl into a hug and made her sit between his legs, making Dani giggle once more grinning bridely. The two Phantom children were seated on a loveseat together now in the general hang out room of Wayne Manor. Dick, Tim and Damian sat across from them on the couch.

The bat kids exchanged glances. Bruce can try as he might, there was no hiding the relation he had with the Phantom kids. There were too many things that added to the fact that the kids had to be Damians half siblings.

Damian looked rather disgruntled, arms also crossed as he turned to return Dan's glare with the same intensity. "Father, may have been trying to hide you from us but his attempts at gaining Nightingale favor are just as pathetic as the excuses he has been giving us in regards to our relation."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "I was not even aware that Bruce tried to flirt with Phantom at all."

Dick patted Tims shoulder in mock condolence. "I have seen the Phantom-Batman dynamic since my days as Robin… It was horrible and painful to watch. Jason can attest to that."

"Mom is as dense as a neutron star." Dan muttered looking away from them.

As if realizing something Dani blinked a couple of times before staring wide eyed at Dick and pointing with one hand at him. "You're the menace Robin! You're the one that asked Superman to throw you high into the air so you could do flips! Mom even said that you asked him once if he could phase you halfway through a wall or turn you invisible to scare your rogues!"

Both Tim and Damian stared at their older brother unimpressed.

"I guess that did happen. Well back to topic!" Dick tried to deflect which sort of worked. But more because Tim got curious about something.

"I don't get how you guys know about us but we didn't know about you two at all. Phantom never mentioned either of you before, not even when he came to visit as Danny. Before we were told about him being Phantom." Tim muttered, completely ignoring Dick as he turned his attention to the two kids. The two children in turn exchanged knowing looks.

"Mom and Auntie Jazz were worried that big brother would get PTSD seeing the Justice League. That's why Uncle Bruce and Superman are the only ones who really knew about us." Dani explained looking up at her older brother who suddenly sported a feral grin, showing off suddenly very sharp appearing teeth. "Though Superman learning about us was more a spur of the moment than intentional telling him."

"Mom was so mad at him." Dan mentioned his sharp teeth glinting as he exchanged a feral look with his sister. It sent a shiver down the batkids' back, making them remember that the kid mentioned he had apparently murdered all of them before. The image of little ten years old Dan standing in a sea of blue fire and laughing like a maniac crossed their minds for a brief moment before they pushed the memories of the babysitting disaster into the depths of their minds again. "He would have beat him up if Uncle Bruce didn't stop him. Instead Mom put Supes through the lecture of a lifetime using us as his how-it's-supposed-to-be example."

"Oh and we met big bro J when Frostbite helped with his treatment!" Dani added clapping her hands together all cutely while her brother on the other hand ended up growling. "He still owns me a spar."

"That… explains nothing." Tim retorted, eyes narrowed at the two kids who only shrugged refusing to explain any more than they had.

Damian meanwhile ended up glaring at nothing as he crossed his arms muttering something about punishing Todd for having been in cahoots with his father and keeping his younger siblings from him. Dick smiled, their youngest apparently really like the thought of having two younger siblings of his own now.

"Can we please get back to topic? About these two trying to set up Danny and Bruce?" Dick tried once more, he really wanted to know more about this whole 'we attempted to set our mom up with Bruce' deal the two kids had going on.

"What is there to question, Richard? My half siblings appear to want for my father and their mother to be together." Damian huffed with his attention being on his eldest brother he did not notice the confused look Dani gave the older boy before looking at her own brother only for Dan to sport a mix of a feral and mischievous grin the girl soon returned when a look of understanding crossed her face briefly.

"So are you guys going to help?" Dani looked at them with big baby blue and pleading eyes. Dan gave them a red eyed glare as if daring them to disagree with his sister. "As big brother said Mom is a neutron star! We can't do this on our own. But now that you guys know you can help!"

The three bat-kids exchanged a look, though it appeared as if Damian had already made a decision on that matter the moment he learned that Phantom was the mother of his half siblings. Dick grinned, pulling out his phone. "If we are going to do this then I am calling in the cavalry."

In other words Dick was going to call in all their siblings as back up. They had been discussing making Phantom, aka Danny Nightingale, a more permanent fixture in their lives before after he had helped Jason. Now they had even more reason to do so with two baby siblings added into their lot.

[sofasoap]

At the barbers

Pairing: John Price x F!Medic! Reader (call sign : Chameleon)

Summary: Part of @glitterypirateduck's John Price "O, Captain! Challenge" prompt used : 92: Giving Price a haircut and/or shave

Warning: T-M rating.

A/N: as mention previously in my Little secret series, Reader is from immigrant/non-Caucasian background. I know nothing about military. Thank you @mini-metal for giving me few suggestions and few ideas! *hugs*

Part of the Memory in a Fragrance series Part of Little secret series

Master list

“Love.”

“Hmmm?” 

“Would you mind giving me a hand here please?” John struggled as he tried to lift his injured arm to trim his beard. 

You sighed. “I am only good with surgical knives and scissors.” You took the trimmer off his hand and gently pushed his arm down. “Why not go to a barber?” 

“.... I am not quite comfortable with someone holding a blade to my neck.” 

“And you are comfortable with ME doing it?” you cocked an eyebrow. 

He hummed. “That’s because you are my wife. I trust you with all my life.” he pressed a kiss into your forehead. Wrapping his good arm around you as you sink into his embrace. 

“Well I am flattered by the great Captain Price trusting me with a knife to his throat.” you giggled, “But I really wouldn’t trust myself to trim my own dead ends off, let alone take a risk of destroying your luscious mutton chop.” You could almost feel him rolling his eyes as he mumbled something incoherent.

“How about one of the boys helping you?”

“I don’t trust them either.” he rumbled. “I trust them with my life.. But I wouldn’t trust them NOT destroying my beard. I already heard them plotting to shave my beard off in my sleep a few times.” 

You couldn't help but laugh. “ Well… We gotta think of something. Can’t let you leave your hair and beard go until your arms heal….” 

The strong leathery, lavender and cedarwood, faint hint of cigar smell hits you as soon as the two of you walk into the shop. The old radio playing some jazz music in the background, the old barber sitting on the wooden stool, reading the newspaper. It brings you distant memories. One of those rare happier moments when you were younger…. 

John finally agreed after a bit of coaxing from you to get his hair and beard done by the professional instead of you trying your luck. 

“I will go with you, how about that? And maybe I can learn a few tricks and tips from the professional?” you suggested. 

The barber waved to your husband to sit down on the chair after you explained to him what needs to be done. He was more than happy to teach you how to help John to maintain his pride and joy. 

Price couldn’t hold back his smile as he saw how focused and concentrated you are, pouting and wrinkling your nose as you listened to the barber explaining each step and how to use the tools. It helps to distract him from some strangers working so closely to him with sharp apparatus. The barber even handed over the scissors a few times for you to try out. 

“Stop moving, you are laughing too much.” you mumbled as you tried to trim the extra long strains around the edge of his jaw. “I don’t think you want me to accidentally take a chunk out of your beard, and have the boys laugh at you at work.” “I could always shave all my beard off.” “Oh so you changed your mind? You're definitely going to give them a heart attack and give me a heart break if you do that. So…  Never.” you laughed as you handed the scissors back to the barber. 

“You get to see Lieutenant John Price?” 

“As much as you were a handsome young man back then,I would rather keep that memory in the photos.” You pointed out as you sat back down, letting the professional get back to work. 

You observe your husband’s side profile with a faint smile on your face as the barber finishes off the rest of the trimming and hair cut. Even after years of marriage, you still have a hard time believing, this handsome man is your husband. 

The moment you set your eyes on him, you didn’t think you had much of a chance. The ranks, the personality, the background…. Everything. 

But he chose you. 

“I choose you? I should be thankful you chose me, my love.” he whispered into your ear one night after you confessed your insecurity. Nuzzling his face into your neck. “For bearing my temper…my imperfections.” 

“What do you think?” he looked at your eyes through the mirror as the barber dust the rest of the beard and hair off his shoulder, seeking for approval. 

Moving yourself to stand in front of him, you gently lay your hand on his face, tilting it to the left, and to the right, and finally, giving him a kiss on the lip, enjoying the smell of the aftershave.

“Handsome. And the best mutton chop I have ever seen.”

“You sound like you have seen quite a few in your life.” he chuckled as thank and paid the barber for his service.

“Maybe, maybe not.” you teased him as you wrap your arm around him. “But it’s definitely the mutton chop that always gives me a good time.” you could see his cheek redden under the beard. “Now, it’s not so scary is it? Having someone else to trim your beard for you.” 

“If you come with me again next time.” he squeezed your hand fondly.

“Gladly.”

“Oh what, you mean we missed out a chance of trying to shave his beard off?” “And You will get your mohawk shaved off too if you do that, MacTavish.” 

Thank you @glitterypirateduck for hosting another wonderful event!!!! *hug*

Tag list: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@homicidal-slvt @mini-metal

@okayyadriana @deadbranch @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator @random0lover @devcica @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @mmyrrhh

@mistydeyes, @groguspicklejar @roosterr

@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot, @writeforfandoms @whydoilikewhump @tapioca-marzipan @alypink, @liyanahelena, @phoenixhalliwell

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Damian Wayne, Dec. 31, 2011

Ha! I sent the last letter of the year! How satisfying victory is.

Anyway, I know exactly what ‘incriminating’ means! I just really wanted to talk to you. It’s been five years since we last saw each other, let alone talked to each other, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Life is- It’s different out here. It’s so much bigger than we thought. There’s so many people and things and places to explore! I didn’t have anyone to talk to when I first got here. I wasn’t about to let you go through this huge adjustment alone. I know I waited a year, but we’ve already established that I’m a coward.

I’m curious, though, about the research you’ve done. What was it for? A project with father? Your own interest? Pray tell.

Questions! You flipped them back at me, so I hope my answers are to your satisfaction, ahki! Though, I don’t exactly remember what questions I asked, so I’m going off of your own answers.

My parents, as I assume you’re wanting to know about them, are less parents and more fosters. They haven’t ever offered to actually adopt me, but they haven’t thought of sending me to a different foster home. Not that I’m really complaining. There are places a lot worse than this place that I’d rather not risk going to, especially because these guys are the perfect example of where Grandfather and Mother would never think of looking for me if they had even an inkling that I was still alive.

Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton are who I’m staying with. Not quite as famous as father and you and your siblings, but they are still quite well known for all the wrong reasons. They’re known as crackpots in the scientific community; laughing stocks. I have to admit, though, that their research is interesting. I don’t believe a word they have ever written or spoken about the subject, seeing as they have almost no proof of any of it, but it’s interesting. I recently got to see the little phial of “proof” that they have. It looks exactly like the Pit Water. Best to keep Grandfather and Mother as far away from them as possible.

Jazz, short for Jasmine, insists that I call her big sister. I would say it out loud, but it feels weird. I’ve never had a big sister before, are they supposed to be this pushy? She’s been studying psychology and reading parenting books since about two months after I got here. I’m worried. She won’t listen to me, though. Says that she’s older, so she knows best and that I shouldn’t worry about anything because she’s got it handled. She refuses to understand that I lost the option to be a “normal” kid when I was born.

I live in Amity Park, Illinois, a few miles from Elmerton, actually. I didn’t want the Drs. or Jazz getting ahold of our letters, and I couldn’t set up a P.O. Box here in Amity for some reason, so I went and set one up in Elmerton! The Drs. don’t really notice me and Jazz too often, I actually think that they literally forgot that I was neither their child nor adopted, so it’s really easy to take a bike out of town. Sure, it’s almost two hours each way, but it’s more than worth it. Then again, I also have a delivery deal set up with one of the staff there, so I don’t always have to go all that way.

Going to school was a good idea at the time, but now I just find it unnecessary. Like you, none of the others can really keep up. I don’t want to call attention to myself, though, so I’m not gonna complain too loudly. Though, keeping my grades exactly average is a really fun challenge. I hate P.E., though. Way too boring. If I could, I’d sleep through it. I’ve two friends, though! Tuck and Sam are cool. Tuck’s my ride or die, and Sam mostly hangs out because her parents disapprove of our friendship. She says she’s sticking it to the man, which I get.

I want to get a dog, but I don’t think it’d be safe to stay in the house. Or on the property. The Drs. seem to think that lab safety is a suggestion. OSHA’s a good topic to stay far away from. On the bright side, though, Jazz won’t have to pay taxes when she grows up, so...

Lets see, I don’t have a lot of hobbies; nothing ever really caught my interest after I got here. I didn’t really actually relax until just before we turned ten. Constant vigilance doesn’t leave time for anything else. Though, I still like the stars. Jazz got me an encyclopedia about stars and space and stuff last year! There’s so many more stories I’ve learned that I want to share with you!

Have you met Martian Manhunter? Or Superman? Or Green Lantern? What am I talking about, of course you have! I’m so jealous. Do you think you could get me an autograph from them or something? No, that’s a stupid thing to ask. You guys are technically coworkers. Boo.

I’m glad you still have it, though I don’t know why you’d keep it on you; It’s wooden! It’s not very sharp, either. More likely to break before it broke skin.

I guess weapon making could be a hobby? But I haven’t really indulged since I left. Sure, I’ve whittled a few shanks, but those are easy. Would you like another dagger? One that’s actually sharp and more likely to do damage to your opponent?

That’s cool about the holidays and stuff. I was kinda hoping, last year, to get to learn more about American cultures and holidays, but I don’t think the yelling and fighting and the food biting back are normal. Me and Jazz did a gift exchange, though! She got me a rocket puzzle and I got her the Chronicles of Narnia. I want to celebrate the Solstice next year, though. Both Summer and Winter.

Were my answers to your satisfaction, Your Highness? /j

Danny Fenton

***

In a town as small as Amity Park, the New Year Celebration was a big deal. Any holiday that involved fireworks was a big deal, but New Years happened to be the biggest one. The biggest park in the city, right in the edge of the residential area, was decorated for the occasion, just as it was for every holiday. Black and gold streamers lined the fences; the pavilions were all decorated to the T; food and drinks were set out buffet style, every family having brought something to share; picnic blankets and lawn and camping chairs had been scattered around the place; people mingled; children ran around every which way; and the fire department had set up a pyrotecnic’s area in the road to shoot off fireworks as soon as the time switched over into the New Year.

“A shame Sam’s stuck in Washington,” Tucker said between sips of his hot chocolate.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, “Amity Park has the best New Years celebration.”

“I know, right! We get to set off fireworks! Do you know how many other places in the world celebrate New Years with fireworks?”

Danny knew. Of course Danny knew. Tucker told him the same thing every year. It was almost like a tradition at this point. “One?”

“Zero-!” He blinked. “One?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. China ushers in the new year with fireworks to ward off evil spirits.”

Tucker grinned. “That’s so cool, dude! How do you know that?”

Because they have this exact conversation every year. “I like mythology. A lot of it ties into the stars.”

Tucker snorted, “Of course. Don’t you ever get tired of learning the same things about space? Most of it is empty anyway.”

Danny shook his head slightly, very happy to get to talk about his special interest. “That’s why it’s called ‘space’, Tuck. And, no, none of the stories are the same across mythologies and cultures. Some are similar, sure, but none of them are the same.” He pointed to a cluster of stars. “Like Orion the Hunter. In Greek Mythology, he declared that he’d kill all of the animals that roamed the Earth. Gaea, Earth Herself, obviously didn’t like that, so she sent Scorpio to kill him. When Orion died, Zeus turned him and Scorpio into stars, forever locking them in battle. But, in Chinese Mythology, Orion doesn’t have a story. Instead Orion the Hunter is called Shen Xiu, ‘Shen’ meaning ‘Three’ and ‘Xiu’ meaning ‘Place for rest’. The three stars that make up his belt are where the moon rests in Chinese Myths.”

“What about the Zodiacs?”

“Which ones?”

“Um, the Twelve Zodiacs? You should know about them, man, since you’re obsessed with stars and stuff.”

“I am not obsessed!” Danny defended, “And, yes, I do know the Twelve Zodiacs, but China has different Zodiacs they recognize.”

“Well that’s not confusing at all.”

“It’s really not.”

“Sarcasm, dude.”

“I know, but they aren’t that hard to keep track of once you know all their stories.”

“Yeah? Then please, enlighten me.”

Danny settled into his seat, shifting to look better at his best friend. Tucker, who was almost done with his hot chocolate, also turned to face him better. “Okay, so, I’ll start off with the Chinese Zodiac because their story is easier to explain. Millenia ago, the Jade Emperor, Yudi, the ruler of heaven, decided that there should be a way to measure the passage of time, so he created a calendar. He invited all earthly creatures to participate in a race. The first twelve to cross the finish line would be granted a place on the calendar. The Rat knew its size would be a disadvantage, so it convinced the Ox to carry it. At the last moment, the Rat leapt off the head of the Ox, taking first and forcing the Ox into second place. Next were the Tiger and the Rabbit. Then, despite its ability to fly, the Dragon came in fifth because it had stopped to help some villagers on the way. The Horse was startled into seventh place when the Snake slithered past it into sixth. The Sheep, Monkey, and Rooster worked together to cross the river, finishing eighth, ninth, and tenth. The Dog, who had stopped to play in the river, finished eleventh. The Pig came in twelfth because it stopped for a snack and a nap. However, the Rat and the Cat had been best friends. The Cat liked to sleep in during the mornings, so the Rat had promised to wake it for the race. Some renditions say that the Rat forgot to wake the Cat, others say that the Rat tricked the Cat into missing the race.”

“I was gonna say that we could totally be the Rat and the Cat,” Tucker sighed, “But I don’t want to be either.” A half beat. “You wouldn’t be the Rat, right? You’d tell me if something important was happening?”

“Of course.” Was Danny’s immediate reply.

Tucker narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion before nodding. “Alright. What about the other Zodiac?”

“Well, unlike the Chinese Zodiac that cycles every year, the Western Zodiac cycles every month and almost none of their stories connect.” He shifted in his seat again. “They’re separated into four categories: Fire, water, earth, and air.”

“Like Avatar?”

“Like Avatar. Aquarius the Water Bearer, Pisces the Fish, Aries the Ram, Taurus the Bull, Gemini the Twins, Cancer the Crab, Leo the Lion, Virgo the Virgin, Libra the Scales, Scorpio the Scorpion, Sagittarius the Archer, and Capricorn the Sea-Goat. Air, water, fire, earth, air, water, fire, earth, air, water, fire, earth.” He took a deep breath, almost sighing his exhale. “In Greek Mythology, Aquarius is said to be the representation of Ganymede, the son of Trojan king Taros. He was so beautiful that Zeus granted him immortality and brought him to live among the gods as their cupbearer. In Babylonian Mythology, Aquarius is said to be the god Ea and is associated most with the violet floods they suffered.

“Pisces, also Greek, is one of the oldest known constellations. In order to escape the titan Typhon, father of all monsters, Aphrodite and her son Eros - Venus and Cupid in Roman myths - transformed themselves into fish. Another ending says that the fish carried Aphrodite and Eros to safety. Yet another myth says that an egg fell into the Euphrates River and was rolled to shore by two fish, where doves sat upon it until it hatched, out of which came Aphrodite. As thanks, she added fish into the night sky, tied together by a ribbon.

“In Babylonian history, Aries was first known as ‘The Agrarian Worker’ or ‘The Hired Man’. Then, in Egyptian Mythology, after the transition in depiction from a man into a ram, Aries became associated with the god Amun-Ra, who’s depicted as a man with a ram’s head. In Greek Mythology, Aries is associated with the Golden Ram who rescued Phrixus and Helle on Hermes’ orders.

“In The Epic of Gilgamesh, Taurus the Heavenly Bull is sent to kill Gilgamesh for spurring the advances of the goddess Ishtar. To Egyptians, Taurus was regarded as sacred, associated with renewal of life and spring. In Greek Mythology, Taurus is identified with Zeus who took the form of a magnificent white bull to kidnap Europa, a Phoenician princess.

“Gemini the Twins: Castor and Pollux. In Babylonian stories, they are regarded as minor gods; The One Who Has Arisen From The Underworld and The Mighty King. In Greek, Pollux is the son of Zeus and Leda while Castor is the son of Tyndareus and Leda. When Castor - who was a mortal - died, Pollux - a demigod of Zeus - begged his father to give Castor immortality. Granting his wish, the brothers were reunited, living on as stars.

“Zeus, king of the Olympian Gods, slept with Alcmene, giving birth to Heracles, Roman name Hercules. Hera, goddess of marriage and Zeus’s wife, turned her anger onto Zeus’s child, causing him death and suffering for a lot of his life. When Heracles made it to adulthood, he married the princess Megara and they had several children. Hera then provoked a fit of madness upon Heracles, in which he killed his wife and kids. As penance, the sibyl - oracle - of the Delphi Oracle - high priestess of the Temple of Apollo - ordered he perform ten labors. Eurystheus, Heracles’ cousin and judge for the ten labors, deemed two of them invalid because they couldn’t be done without help, resulting in the famous Twelve Labors of Heracles. During his second Labor - killing the Hydra of Lerna - Hera sent the giant crab Carcinos to assist the Hydra. Enraged, Heracles killed the crab before killing the Hydra with the help of his nephew, Iolaos.

“Another one of the earliest recognised constellations, Leo was known in Babylonian astronomy as The Great Lion. In Greek, Leo is identified as the Nemean Lion which was killed by Heracles during his Twelve Labors.

“In most stories, Virgo is depicted as a virgin maiden associated with wheat. In Greek and Roman, she is related to Demeter, Roman name Ceres, and Persephone, Roman name Proserpina. The myth of Parthenos tells of how Virgo came to be. In another Greek myth, Virgo is associated with Erigone, the daughter of Icarius. In Egyptian Mythology, her presence is marked as the beginning of the wheat harvest. In Christianity, the birth of Jesus to a virgin mother is symbolically linked to Virgo.

“Libra has almost always been associated with law, fairess, and civility. In Babylonian astronomy, Libra is called ‘scales’ or ‘balance’ or ‘Claws of the Scorpion’. The scales were held sacred to the sun god Shamash, patron of truth and justice. Ancient Greece also recognised Libra as the Scorpion’s Claws. All the ‘claw’ names are because Libra was a part of the Scorpio constellation until the Romans made it its own.

“Orion the Hunter was a giant who proclaimed that he would kill every creature that roamed the earth. Gaea, Earth Herself, didn’t like that, so she sent Scorpio the Scorpion to hunt and kill him. Now, even after killing him, Scorpio hunts Orion; One constellation rises when the other sets, forever locked in chase.

“Sagittarius is known to Greek Mythology as Chiron the centaur. He is most known for mentoring heroes such as Achillies, Jason, Heracles, and Asklepios. He is the wisest of the centaurs, whose higher intelligence forms a bridge between Earth and Heaven.

“Capricorn has been depicted as a fish-goat since the Middle Bronze Age. He was used in Babylon as a symbol for the god Ea.In Greek, he is sometimes seen as Amalthea, the goat who suckled baby Zeus after Rhea saved him from being devoured by his father, Chronos. It is also said that his broken horn was turned into the cornucopia, AKA the horn of plenty. Another Greek rendition says that Capricorn depicts the god Pan while fleeing from Typhon via the river.”

There were a few beats of quiet between the two, the noise of the people around them filling in the space. Danny took a sip of his now too cold drink before putting it down with a frown.

“Wow,” Tucker finally said, “That’s a lot. How do you know so much?”

Danny smiled again. It was small and melancholy. “I’ve loved the stars for longer than I can remember.”

“Can you read them?”

“Can I read what?”

“The stars. Can you read them?”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom said that people used to use the stars to track where they were and where they needed to go. So, can you read them?”

“Yeah,” was the answer. He and Damian had been taught by Mother herself how to navigate via the stars. “I can navigate via stars. It’s not hard once you get the hang of it.”

Quiet settled back over the two as Ticker let himself get lost in thought for a minute. Danny let himself people watch while he waited. What was left of the food had been packed up about an hour ago, leaving simple snack foods and drinks out. There was just under an hour before the year would change over. Maybe they could call Sam for a minute? That might be a nice surprise for her. Or she could be busy and they’d piss off her parents. 

Calling Sam it is!

Just as Danny was turning on his phone, Tucker said, “Do you think we could write a computer code using the stars?”

Huh? “Huh?”

Tucker blushed and hid his face in his scarf. “Well, I’ve always wanted to try coding something that not even the best of the best could get around. And, if we used something like the stars, then it’d take at least a while for someone to crack it because no one would ever guess they’d need a map of the stars to hack something.”

Danny thought for a moment before a grin split his face. “Tucker, that’s genius!” he exclaimed, “I could kiss you!”

Tucker blushed deeper and buried himself more into his scarf, mumbling something that Danny couldn’t hear.

“We don’t have the stuff on us to do anything now,” Danny said, “But we could totally start work on it Thursday. What’d ya say?”

Slowly, Tucker brought himself out of his makeshift turtle shell. “Tomorrow should be good. My place?”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Mom and dad  got this new ‘breakthrough’ a few days ago. They’ve also gotten it into their heads that me and Jazz want to and can be down in the lab. Neither of us really want to go down there, but are you going to tell the crazy scientists ‘no’?”

Grimacing, Tucker shook his head. “No thank you.” A beat. “Should we call Sam?”

“And rub it in her face that we’re having so much more fun than her?” His grin turned feral. “I was thinking the same thing.”

*

“Why do we gotta be the ones to clean up the lab?” Danny complained.

Jazz huffed from where she was putting their parents’ papers into folders. “I don’t know, Danny. Just like I didn’t know ten minutes ago. Or twenty minutes ago. Or thirty minutes ago. I don’t know what goes on in mom and dad’s heads!”

He cringed back, keeping the broom between himself and his sister as if it could stop her from suddenly attacking him. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just,” His gaze wandered over to the empty, still being built, portal. “That thing gives me the creeps.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? A ten foot tunnel with LED lights and glowing walls is giving you the creeps?”

He spluttered. “Well, I-” He groaned in frustration. “You haven’t been inside it. When dad pushed me in, it was a lot darker in there than it looks out here. Like, you’d think that it'd be brighter, seeing as there’s only one place for the light to exit, but it wasn’t. It was like all the light was being absorbed instead of reflected.” His grip on  the broom handle tightened. “And when I tripped, I could swear that I heard a voice.”

“A voice?” Because of course that’s what gets her attention. “Danny, hearing voices isn’t a good thing.”

“It’s not-!” He sighed and began sweeping again. “Just forget it. Let’s get this done so that I can get back to my project.”

She followed his lead. “What’re you working on?”

“Tucker had the idea to use a star chart as a guide to code something. In order to do that, we need a star chart, so I’m making one.”

Jazz smiled as she put the folders into the middle drawer of the desk, each one labeled accordingly. “That’s nice. Are you guys gonna let Sam in on it?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe, maybe not. Probably will. She has to come back for that, though.”

“She’ll be back soon, you big mother hen, stop worrying.”

“Only if you stop reading those parenting books.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Then it seems we’ve reached an impasse.” Danny hung the broom up on the wall of the landing at the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, Care Bear. You’ve got concerning books to read and I’ve got concerning friends to worry about. Besides, the sooner we get outta here the sooner mom and dad can ruin all our hard work.”

Chuckling, Jazz followed her brother back to the main floor of the house. “Why’d they even want us to clean down there?”

“Because they didn’t want to?” He shrugged, “Maybe they’re renovating? Who knows.”

She hummed. “I guess we’ll never know. Want a snack?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Positive?”

“As my blood type.”

“Your blood type is AB-.”

“Exactly.”

“Danny.”

“What?” He was halfway up the stairs now. “Look, I’m fine. No need to nag me, mother hen.”

“Shut it, greedy chick.”

*

Waiting for the next letter was almost as bad as waiting for the letters before it. Was this anxiety ever gonna lessen, or was this a thing he’d be stuck with until he and Damian met face to face? If. If he and Damian ever meet face to face. ‘If’ is…decent.

Though, if they ever did meet up again, in person, where would they do it? Would they meet each other’s family? He didn’t mind the thought of introducing Jazz and Damian, and he figured it would be nice to meet his father, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Damian or his family to meet his parents. That would be an embarrassing disaster waiting to happen and Danny would like no part of that, thank you.

Starting a group call with Tucker and Sam, Danny only had to wait a ring and a half for someone to answer. “I am beyond ready to be back!”

“Hey, Sam. Nice to talk to you, too.” Danny joked.

“Don’t snark me, asshole, I can still kick your ass from two-thousand miles away!”

“Two-thousand twenty-three miles, actually,” Tucker joined the call.

“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffed, “Technicalities and shit. I was only off by twenty-three miles.”

“You would not believe the distance that covers, though.”

“La la la! I’m not listening!”

The three laughed after a moment, their usual dynamic falling easily into place despite the distance. After a few minutes, the line delved into a comfortable quiet, white noise from each side filling the space.

“So,” Tucker said after a moment, “What’d ya call for, Danny?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. ‘S just bored.”

“You could always come get me from Starling City?” Sam offered.

“And pull you from your rich person parties?” Danny feigned distress, “I could never!”

Tucker laughed. “Yeah, and I don’t think he’d be able to cross state lines, especially in a stolen car that you’re not old enough to drive.”

“An extraction plan would be easy,” Danny chimed, “Sneaking across state lines would be a bit more difficult, but not too bad. The real problem is when your parents report you missing and there’s a manhunt launched in Washington to find you.”

“You’re right,” Sam relented, “Though it’d be hilarious to watch the manhunt from the comfort of my own room.”

“You mean one of our rooms?”

“You’re grandma would probably help,” Tucker added on, “She’d probably even fund the thing!” The three laughed again.

“Does this mean you’ll come save me?”

“Nah. If you haven’t died already then you’ll be fine until you get home.”

“What’re you gonna do when I get home?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The two boys said at the same time. Then, Tucker added, “Have you seen the Arrow?”

“The who?”

“The Arrow!” Tucker exclaimed, “He’s like, the coolest hero ever, and he’s based in Starling City!”

“Really?” Danny wondered.

He just knew that Tucker was nodding his head so fast that he wouldn’t be out of place at a heavy metal concert. “Yeah, dude! And he definitely has a tech guy. I, for one, would die- perish, if I got to meet either Arrow or his tech guy.”

“What about other heroes and their tech guys?” Sam asked, humor in her voice. “I’d like to meet Green Lantern or Wonder Woman. They’re both known diplomats; I’d love to pick their brains.”

“What about you, Danny?”

Batman would be the obvious choice. However, “I’d like to meet Martian Manhunter and Superman. Can you imagine how much I could learn about space from actual aliens?” He sighed dreamily. “I could die a happy boy.”

“And risk coming back as a ghost?” Sam snorted, “You’d really disappoint your parents like that?”

Again, Danny shrugged. “I’m a disappointment in life, I’ll be a disappointment in death.” He heard the front door open and shut, his parents’ loud voices carrying into the house. “Sorry to cut this short, guys, but my parents just got home.”

“Speak of the devil,” Tucker said.

“I think I’d rather deal with him.” he sat up, “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Are you still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see ya then.” He hung up, cutting his friends’ farewells short. Heaving a heavy sigh, Danny stashed his phone in his back pocket and crept into the hall, meeting his sister at the top of the stairs. They didn’t share anything other than a look as they watched their parents haul linoleum floor tiles and metal wall sheets down into the basement lab.

“How does Tasty Burger sound for dinner tonight?” Jazz asked quietly.

“Sounds good.” Danny responded in the same volume.

***

Danyal Fenton     Jan. 4, 2012

You’re insufferable, you know that, yes? Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive any situation, especially not social ones. You need to work on written communications, but you should broaden your horizons and work on all forms of communication, just in case.

Yes, before you get too far, you did answer sufficiently. Must you act like I tortured you for information? Honestly, Danyal.

I understand your want of communication, though I don’t blame you for waiting for so long. I would’ve done the same, had I been in your shoes. Mother, for the most part, has left me and father alone, and our contact with the League is few and far between. Meeting in person, though, would be the best and most secure way of communicating.

I’d hardly call you sending your letter on the last day of the year a victory, but if your life is as mundane as you’ve been portraying it as, then I’ll allow you to relish in whatever you can get. Also, would you mind explaining what ‘/j’ means? I am unfamiliar with it.

The research I mentioned was about twins. There were some interesting studies that I happened across during some research for a project with father, and I read through them on my own time. I’m sure you have the same results as me. Emotional states are not shared between twins, but, more often than not, one twin can tell the emotional state of the other. It was an interesting rabbit hole, as Drake called it, to go down. I recommend looking into it if you’re bored.

However, there are cases of twins being able to tell when the other is in physical distress. We were not allowed to be close as children, though I always thought you were alive because I did not feel you die. I did not understand it then, and I still do not understand it now, but I am glad I was correct.

You’re family, to change the topic, sounds like a handful. Why does Jasmine not have to worry about paying taxes when she’s older? And why do the Drs, Fenton disregard lab safety? Are you in danger? Has their carelessness hurt either you or Jasmine?

I understand that calling another your sibling is weird. Call her however you are comfortable calling her. If she truly cares, she will understand and she will refrain from pushing you to call her something else.

I must say, I’m not sure I like Samantha, based on what you’ve said about her. To be friends with someone just to go against her parents does not sound like a healthy relationship in the slightest. Tucker, as I assume that’s his full name, on the other hand, sounds like he’s a good friend. Does he recuperate the sentiment, though? Are you his ride or die, just as he is yours?

Yes, I have met Superman and Martian Manhunter. No, I will not get you an autograph if I see them again. Green Lantern, at least the four that work with the Justice League, are all Earth Born.

Weapon Smithing does count as a hobby, yes. It’s unfortunate that you’ve been unable to keep it up, though I do encourage you to pick it up again. You were quite proficient when we were younger, and you will only get better.

I would love another dagger. Until then, though, I will keep the one I have on me. When you have created another, I will put the wooden one in the display case. But, only when you have given me another.

Celebrating the Summer and Winter Solstices sounds like a wonderful idea. The Summer Solstice, according to my research, is the celebration of the return of light, life, and fertility. The Winter Solstice is the celebration of rebirth, renewal, and the return of light. So, similar meanings, but celebrated differently. I think I will join you in celebrating, though we won’t be able to do so together properly until we meet in person.

Resorting to name calling, peasant? I thought I taught you better.           Damian Wayne

Part 2 Part 4

[anon-e-miss]

Broken Vows - 8

“‘M gonna go look at habs for ya when ya have a rest,” Jazz told Prowl. He avoided the glyph nap which seemed a little mocking to him. As his frame continued to integrate the delicate repairs and with a fragile self-respair systems, Prowl ran out of energy quickly and recharged off and on throughout the mega-cycle.

“Perhaps you might like to take Smokescreen with you?” Prowl offered. “He would benefit from fresh air.”

“Are ya sure?” Jazz asked.

“I trust you,” Prowl said.

“What about you and Blue?” Smokescreen asked.

“We need more rest than you, Bravespark,” Prowl told him. “I know it is not terribly fun for you when we recharge. There is a fine playground in the park your progenitor and I used to walk in.”

“I’d love to,” Jazz said. “What do ya say, Smokey?”

“Okay!”

“I’ll give ya a list o’ favourites,” Jazz offered Prowl. Prowl just shook his helm.

“I trust you and Smokescreen to select it,” he said. “You know how little I concerned myself with my habsuite.”

“A’ight,” Jazz said. “We’ll do our best.”

Smokescreen was nervous, Jazz knew. His genitor was nervous too. Jazz held Smokescreen’s servo in a firm grip as they walked down the hall and made their way to the tram that would drop them off at the metro. It was faster to drive, of course but Jazz was too nervous to drive Smokescreen and the mechling was far too young to drive on his own. Smokescreen would not have wheels of his own until he was a youngling. Sooner or later, Jazz would give him a ride somewhere but Smokescreen had already gotten lost once on his watch and he was not going to risk getting in a crash with him on their first trip off base. The media were all gone, having been chased off by the Primal Vanguard after Prime had given his speech. That did not mean there might not be opportunists who would sneak a quick shot but Jazz had a plan for that.

“I want ya to wear this,” Jazz told Smokescreen as he magnetized a small device to the collar of his armour.

“What’s it for?” Smokescreen asked.

“If anyone tries to take a picture o’ ya, this’ll scramble it,” Jazz told him. “I know yer ori don’t want yer face all o’er the news.”

“It was the same in Praxus,” Smokescreen said. “He didn’t want me in portraits. He didn’t want Blue either but he wasn’t allowed to say no.”

“‘M sorry yer Ori had to make that choice,” Jazz told him. “I’m sorry I bout’m in that spot.”

“Origin loves you,” Smokescreen said. “And it makes him sad. It always made him sad.”

“He’s got good reason, Sweetspark,” Jazz told him. “I broke his spark. I did it on purpose.”

“You were sick,” Smokescreen defended him and Jazz ruffled his helm. After everything Jazz had said and done, Prowl had excused him to their creation. It was a kindness Jazz did not think he deserved.

“Don’t make the damage any easier to live with, Bitlet,” he said.

“Hmm,” Smokescreen took a seat in the window and Jazz sat next to him. “You feel bad about it.”

“Sure do,” Jazz told him. “I didn’t know I’d kindled ya wit Prowl until I saw yer designation next to his on the casualties list. Even when I was better, I was too scared to face your Ori, even the memories o‘m so I didn’t read his letters, ‘n I lied to myself ‘bout how bad I’d behaved. I didn’t want to remember how bad I’d been. When I saw yer designation I had to face what a monster I’d been. I didn’t think I deserved to mourn ya, either o’ ya. But I needed to. I still carry the ultrasound photos he sent me.”

“Really?” Smokescreen asked. Jazz showed him the ultrasound. “I was just a blob.”

“We all start out that way.”

Jazz knew Smokescreen hoped his procreators would get back together and raise him and his brother together. It was something Jazz was a bit too scared to hope for himself. He loved Prowl dearly. With all the clarity in the world now, Jazz did not shy from this truth. The reality was, however he had hurt Prowl terribly and he had driven him away, laying the groundwork for the direction the Praxian’s life had taken. Every awful thing that had happened after could be placed at Jazz’s peds. At some point, if Prowl ever wanted to hear it, Jazz would like to apologize probably, to make sure he knew that Jazz took responsibility, that he had no excuses for everything he had said and done. He could not ask for a chance to be better for Prowl, for Smokescreen and for Bluestreak. Jazz would have to be better and to let the chips fall however they might.

“I know Origin’s originator and grandcreators were afts,” Smokescreen said. “What about yours? Origin never told me about them.”

“That’s ‘cause I never told’m,” Jazz explained. “My genitors were split-spark twins. They died in a riot in Polyhex ‘n losin’em broke my Ori ’n made ‘m go mad... sorta like I did, I guess. Me ‘n my brother, my twin split up... blamin’ different mecha for what happened. I know they’re alive but that’s all I know.”

“You got better,” Smokescreen said. “I bet he will too.”

Counterpunch had sent Jazz another of his rants that light-cycle. As always, it made no sense. There was no threat to Jazz in particular or the Autobots in general. It was just random glyphs, not even in sentences but almost just splattered across the page. Because Counterpunch did not know he had creations, because Punch had always considered his family to be his and not his alter’s, that he even had the code to the commlink Jazz had only ever shared with his family was still a bit unnerving. Talk of a mechanical spark and grinding gears, even when Jazz read it together with the other notes he had received lately, he found no meaning in it. He wondered if Ricochet got notes like these. His twin would never tell him. Ricochet had blamed Sentinel Prime for the deaths of their progenitors and the madness of their originator, in hindsight Jazz understood why. Ricochet did not forgive Jazz lending is allegiance to that prime as Jazz had blamed terrorists who had worn the Decepticon brand. Whether Ricochet called himself a Decepticon or freelanced, as had been the family business, Jazz did not know. He had not spoken to his twin in millenia and had not laid optics on him for even longer.

“This is our stop,” Jazz took Smokescreen servo and led him down the escalator and out onto the street.

It was just around the corner from Mirror’s, nearer than even Prowl’s old hab and been and a short walk to the park. There were other habsuite on his list to look at but if this one was even close to as good as the ad had suggested, he thought it would be perfect. Smokescreen, of course, would be the one to cast the deciding vote. The property manager shook Smokescreen’s servo after he shook Jazz’s and that was a point in his favour. There were lots of families in the building, or so said the manager and that was a point for the building. No one had lived in the habsuite for a while so it was a completely blank slate. Imagining how it might be set up was not a problem to Jazz. He laughed as Smokescreen ran about, checking every room. The mechling definitely needed sometime in the park to release some energy.

“This room for Origin, because it has a pretty view,” Smokescreen pulled Jazz along for a tour. “This room’s for Blue because its right next door. This rooms for me and this rooms for my grandori and uncle when they come to visit.”

“He’s so sweet,” the property manager said. “And so well behaved.”

“His Ori gets all the credit,” Jazz replied.

“Origin’s going to love it,” Smokescreen declared as they left, key card stored in Jazz’s subspace. As Jazz was an officer in the Autobot Corp, the property manager was quick to sign the habsuite over to Jazz, even having never met the principle tenant. Security was good, it would be better when Jazz added encryptions to the lock. Smokescreen had picked a good room for Prowl, it had a few of the park. He would love it.

“He’ll love that ya picked it for’m,” Jazz said. “How ‘bout we go to the park now ‘n ya can run ‘round like a wild mechanimal?”

“Okay!”

“And who is this?” Jazz jumped. The voice was husky. He knew without looking that it belonged to a wispy femme about his originator’s age.

“Dipole!” Jazz exclaimed. He had met her when she had returned from burying her progenitor. The funds that had seen her get there had been stolen and Prowl had hunted the thief down and returned them too her.

“I’m Smokescreen, Ms Dipole!”

“You look just like your Origin, doin’t you?” Dipole said. “Mirror mentioned you stopped by, to pick up a peace offering. Than she saw the news and she’s been as close to a wreck as I’ve ever seen her.”

“Mirror makes the yummy rust sticks, right?” Smokescreen asked.

“That’s right,” the femme replied.

“Prowl’s got some more healin’ to do but he’ll visit soon,” Jazz promised.

“Mirror always thought of Prowl as something of an adoptive grandcreation,” Dipole said. “What with him being all but orphaned.”

“Can we say hi?” Smokescreen asked.

“Uh...” Jazz thought on it. “I don’t want to take the wind outta yer Ori’s sails, Bravespark.”

“Eh?”

“I thought yer Ori outta be the one to introduce ya to Mirror,” Jazz said.

“He won’t mind,” Smokescreen said. “Especially if we bring more rust sticks. And... if Ms Mirror is worried about Origin, she’ll feel better and Origin’ll feel better knowing she’s not worrying anymore.”

“He is very clever,” Dipole said.

“All credit goes to his Ori,” Jazz replied. “Okay, we’ll say hi to Mirror.”

“They were really buried for vorns?” Dipole asked, softly as they headed to the bakery.

“Yeah,” Jazz replied.

“Mirror wouldn’t look at the casualty list,” Dipole explained. “After he said goodbye, she always figured he’d come back. She said he belonged here and not in Praxus but... well he never came back and then Praxus was gone. She didn’t want to know because if she didn’t know than she could imagine he was well, wherever he was.”

“I promise he’s okay now,” Jazz said. “He thought Smokey outta get out ‘n get some exercise while ‘m ‘n the bitty rest more.”

“It’ll be good to see him,” Dipole said. “He was always one of Mirror’s favourites.”

[teamchillidogs]

Oï!!

First, I want to say, I love this comic and genuinely can’t wait to see what awaits for us next ♡♡♡

The premise is such an interesting concept– And the art is to die for, hello?? (all my ♡ to you guys, and I mean ALL of you!)

I just had two tiny questions, if it haven’t been already answered:

If it doesn’t spoil anything, is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited? I can’t imagine my poor baby stuck with average speed, but I’m not really sure that this leg is capable of supporting his sonic speed.

And second, mostly adressed to others fans... WHY IS EVERYBODY BLAMING MAH BOI TAILS FOR EVERYTHING?? Like, yeah sure he’s technically responsible but–

Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?!

Both Sonic and Amy told Tails to come back to the ARK and let Sonic&Shadow handle things, and I think we can safely say he would have (even reluctantly) obeyed and gone back to the ship.

But noooooo, Knuckles had to chime him and told him to make himself useful.

Useful.

To the boy who literally just witnessed his BigBroTM (fake) death in an explosion without being able to do anything abt it.

The kid who just had an entire arc abt gaining confidence and learning to step out of Sonic’s shadow (pun not intented), to be his own person with his own purpose and all that jazz.

The child who’s probably still pump up on the adrealine from his fight with Eggman (which he won if I remember my SA2 correctly).

Knuckles, mah bro, best hot-headed himbo of the franchise. You could not have chosen a worst time to utter these words.

Of course Tails was going to take him up on that and try to ”MaKe HiMsElf UsEfUl”, why wouldn’t he?? He defeated Eggman in battle (Left-over adrealine and possibly cockiness?), and didn’t seem to trust Shadow with Sonic (who, again, was thought Dead literaly less than half an hour ago bc of the Team Shadow was on– Seriously, I can see why he’d like to be by his side when Sonic is again risking his life out there for them)

And franckly, how was he supposed to realize how bad his intervention would turn out to be? It never got that bad before, why now?

#StoptheTailshate #HoldKnucklesaccountable

Sorry for the rambling and the terrible english, but it had to be said, bruh. Tails ain’t even in my Top-5 favorites character, but everyones’ so harsh on the baby, he needed some backup 🥺😭

Hii @sookilini here answering as per usual!

this is the best ask we have ever received and it's honestly my favorite, thank you so much for sending this.

I always get to excited and emotional when i read these things, thank you so much for your kind words <333

ALSO THANK YOU FOR NOT ATTACKING TAILS, he has been DRAGGED TO FILTH I CAN´T TAKE IT /j

So first: is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited?

Unfortunately, the people of Marmolim (the planet he landed on) as you may have been able to tell, don't know who Sonic is and are unaware of his speed and abilities. So, the prosthetic leg isn´t capable of withstanding his speed...

Secondly

Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?

I honestly have no idea why most people commenting did not catch onto Knuckles provoking Tails by poking at his insecurities, I'd even dare to say his ego more so... Tails got into his head "oh I don't need Sonic to get things done. I can do anything, I'm more than just the brains, I can do the action too" at least this is my intention with his actions.

We have to remember, Tails is literally just a child at the end of the day, yes he is incredibly smart but can you really expect a 12-year-old-ish kid to act rationally when put in a stressful life or death situation while getting yelled at by everyone for just trying to help?

Nobody would ever expect a kid to even be in that situation to begin with right? at least that´s what I think.

We all know Knux isn´t the smartest in hindsight...he isn't stupid by any means, but he will say what comes to his mind without second guessing for sure.

But oh well...Knuckles isn´t here to defend himself....anymore...

But there is still hope

[fernacular]

Could you tell us more about your version of batman? Maybe the batfam too? Boop!

I can try! To be honest I don't have a ton to say, im not the most knowledgeable when it comes to the Lore(tm) and I'm mostly making stuff up with each drawing I do, whatever makes the initial concept or joke work.

So what I have is this:

He's not physically powerful but he has a lot of speed, flexibility and endurance and mostly focuses on avoiding fights and being a good detective, and when a fight is unavoidable he leans a lot on technology and being a pragmatic fighter so he can take people down quick with minimal risk. I don't know much about martial arts but his fighting style is probably similar to Akido?

The Joker is less of a huge villain, I have nothing against the character I just feel like he gets leaned on too much in batman stories, like an overexposure thing. He was a gangster with a gimmick who become a problem every once in a while but he was never Batman's arch nemesis. (That would be two-face, they got the most personal history). After the Jason Todd of it all Bruce stuck him down a stinky hole and no one liked him enough to help him get out.

There's not actually a huge age gap between Bruce and Dick, only about ten years, and the father/son relationship is getting slightly more awkward as time goes on. Like it's one thing for a 22 year old telling a twelve year old what to do, pretty different when it's a 35 year old trying to lecture a 25 year old. Dick respects Bruce immensely but he's getting frustrated with Bruce not seeing them as peers yet, and it's part of why Dick has physically distanced himself. (Some familial relationships improve so much when you live in different cities)

He's in an on-and-off again relationship with Selina, who has her own apartment but splits her time between it and the Wayne manor when they're on, and sometimes even off (Alfred usually let's her in regardless, when she feels like using the front door). They're just two very independent people who do love each other but every so often need their space and don't know how to communicate that constructively.

What else what else... Babs is Oracle but her spine was injured in a different way, probably while kicking ass and saving lives.

Bruce is better friends with Diana than he is Clark because Clark has a little bit of a country chip on his shoulder when it comes to wealthy property owners and Bruce isn't jazzed about the press. Its getting better with time though!

Bruce is very good at masking (I mean, clearly, he has to fool everyone with Brucie after all) but his relaxed affect is very blunt and not outwardly emotional. This does not mean he's always brooding or overly serious, he just has resting bitch face and his sense of humor is very dry. His family can read him pretty well but most other people just assume he's perpetually pissed.

Uuuuh thats all I can think of off the top of my head, hope you like it!

Also boop

[wolfjackle-creates]

Behind the Fortress Walls Chapter 3

Fic Summary

Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated. But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first. When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes. Only…they aren't the only ones breaking in.

And we've got art this chapter!!!!!!!!!

I have been spoiled by my artists. Starting with the fact that there's two of them.

Chapter 3: 5.5k words

-----

“Don’t move!” cried Dick.

“Just shutting off my comm.” She winced as Sam and Tucker yelled at her to stop. “Will you let me?”

Nightwing, Dick, hesitated. “Why?”

She quickly pressed the power button on her comm and pulled out her hand, holding it palm out and open to show she had nothing in it. “You know,” she said conversationally, “This really explains quite a lot. I suppose it’s your friend who is controlling the cameras and blocking out our tech person?”

“You’ll understand if I don’t answer your questions.”

Jazz nodded. “I do. But I do think we should have a conversation in private.” She nudged the blaster with her foot, kicking it in Dick’s direction. “Want the rest of my weapons as a peace offering?”

“Explain who you are and what you’re doing here. If I like the answer, I may consider hearing you out.”

Jazz shrugged. “The only name I can give you right now is Calkins. And I’m here on a rescue mission.”

Nightwing’s escrima sticks lowered slightly. “Calkins?”

“You’ve heard of me?”

“Heard someone asking about an anti-meta government group in the area. It’s why we’re here.”

Jazz blinked in surprise then burst out laughing. They’d canceled their date only to go on to raid the same GIW base instead? She had to lean against the door to keep upright. “Oh my god. That’s…”

Dick was clearly taken aback by her reaction, but didn’t seem to feel at risk. He returned his escrima sticks to their holder on his back and took a half step forward before stopping. “Are you all right?” he asked slowly.

Jazz held up one hand and gasped to try and get herself under control. God, Dick must be the reason the base was so empty. It all made sense. The relief was overwhelming. “Sorry,” she gasped out. “Sorry. Just…” She giggled some more. “We should have a private conversation.” She took a moment to just look at Dick. He really cut a figure in his Nightwing get up. No wonder people looked up to him with both fear and wonder.

-----

Keep reading, because this chapter has my favorite moment in the fic. And I cannot wait to see how the rest of y'all react to it.

[lesuccube]

➚ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 : ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ — ᴄʜᴀꜱɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — after two months of radio silence and he suddenly comes back to your life but he's not alone .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — angst bug [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 4.3k

i'm doing good, i'm on some new shit

been saying "yes" instead of "no"

i thought i saw you at the bus stop, i didn't though

it's been two months since you last saw steven. two whole months of leaving all your texts on read, missed all your calls, two months since he said and promised to go stargazing with you for your birthday. the celebration passed with no sight of him, making you blow your candles out by yourself in the middle of the park you two frequented under the light of the stars. now you and steven aren't dating. you didn't put a label on your relationship, haven't really spoken about it but you know there was something between you, a spark, an unspoken chemistry. now it seems like it's only you who thought so.

the taxi you hailed was a friendly old man, who played some jazz music on low volume while also chatting to you about his granddaughter. you indulge his friendliness, making small talk here and there but throughout the ride you had stayed silent, head leaning against the window as you watched the bleak scenery of london pass you by.

until you pass by a familiar street, a small waiting shed where you and steven would wait with giggles having run there in hopes the bus hasn't arrived yet whenever you stay over. you spy a mop of curly hair. it had you sitting straight in your seat and the car blocking your view made you crane your neck to catch a glimpse of your friend-but-not-really-friend steven. the vehicle passed by after a second, but to your dismay, it wasn't him.

you let out a quiet sigh of disappointment as you sink back to your seat. if the driver had noticed your strange actions, he made no comment about it.

i hit the ground running each night

i hit the sunday matineé

you know the greatest films of all time were never made

today was a cloudy sunday evening. it was half past five and the streets were slowly beginning to fill up with tourists and people wishing to spend a quiet evening out and about london's cobble streets. many, if not most, of them can be seen filling pubs and bars that littered the main street. your cab slowly comes to a halt, stopping in front of a quaint yet lively bar, the faint noise of laughter and a live band playing can be heard through the closed doors, the large windows showcasing patrons enjoying their drinks with their chosen company, talking amongst themselves, enjoying themselves. somehow, you envy them a little.

"this is your stop miss." the old cabbie smiles as he turns his head a little to face you. you hand him a 50 pound note with a smile of your own, "keep the change." you told him as you grabbed the strap of the guitar case next to you. you exit the cab, waving goodbye to the kind cabbie as he drives off.

your fingers tighten their hold to the guitar case as a chilly autumn breeze nips at your nose, other hand holding the lapels of your white denim jacket, the sleeves nearly consuming your fingertips. it was a couple of sizes too big for you but you always insist on wearing it. a little something you stole from steven's wardrobe, not that he minded. you clutch the fabric a little too tight to yourself, one of the few things you kept that reminded you of steven in his absence.

you walk through a dimly lit alleyway, entering the bar through its backdoor hidden within the building's gray bricks. warmth floods you as you step inside the staff/break room, greeting the guard stationed at the corner with a quiet 'good evening' as you walk past him before you slip past the red curtain that separates the small break room from the bar itself.

cozy booths covered most of the floor, the bar on one corner of the building and a stage at the other where a band was casually playing.

your boss, a burly woman with a passion for alcohol, waved at you from her spot behind the counter, tending orders of her regular customers that sat in front of her. you wave back with a smile before climbing up the stage, speaking softly with the members up there about your performance tonight. you talked briefly with them as you kneeled to open the case protecting your guitar, stamps and random stickers littering its shiny brown body, a singular name inked with permanent marker near its neck in neat letters. steven.

usually the small writing makes you smile before you begin performing, today though, it does nothing but tug at your heartstrings painfully and force you to tear your eyes away from it. you sit at the tall chair on the stage, one foot up on the wooden step to rest the weight of your guitar's body on your thigh, stationing yourself in front of the microphone placed front and center of the round platform.

i guess you never know, never know

and if you wanted me, you really should've showed

and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

and it's alright now

"good evening ladies and gentlemen. happy sunday to you all. i hope you're enjoying yourselves tonight but let's liven it up a bit more, yeah?"

the night rolls by like clockwork, you sing and strum your guitar to requests made by the customers tonight. it stays like that for a few hours until the clock strikes 10. the bar has filled up quickly with patrons having to share booths with each other, the small space in front of the stage is filled with drunk people singing along to the songs as they place their tips on the small jar next to the mic.

you smile at them with ease, the music and melodies taking your mind off of your missing friend-but-not-really-friend.

"okay, what do you guys suggest we play next?" one patron yells out the 1 by taylor swift, female by the sound of it to which you nod, signaling the band behind you to ready themselves. "ooh i like that suggestion, hope you guys don't mind if i pour my feelings out to the song yeah? to all those whose heart long for another, those that wonder what could have been... i hope you find some comfort tonight because you're not alone."

the pianist and drummer nod to each other, tapping the drumsticks together three times before the keyboard begins to play with its signature opening, quickly followed by the strum of your guitar and the quiet beats of the drum.

the door jingles open but you don't notice the sound over the music and the ladies inside the bar singing along. two new customers find an empty corner booth for themselves to enjoy, the female opting to order for her and her company by the bar. once she's out of sight, dark eyes like molten chocolate find your form on stage, singing happily alongside the small crowd in front of you, easing easily to the chorus of the song.

but we were something, don't you think so?

roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool

and if my wishes came true

it would've been you

in my defense, i have none

for never leaving well enough alone

but it would've been fun

if you would've been the one

"give me the body marc. please." steven pleads desperately from the reflection of the window beside marc, the latter sighs, well aware as to why his alter is acting that way before surrendering the body to steven. eyes rolling to the back of his head for a second before a small gasp escapes his lips. steven's in control now.

for once, he's glad nobody really pays him any mind, even in the crowded bar. he had to beg marc to come here as soon as they came back from egypt, having disappeared without any word after getting sacked from his job at the museum.

it wasn't that he forgot about you, no, but between stopping an ancient egyptian god from being released to the world, being shot at and dying, learning about himself and marc and layla (he still feels bad for kissing her because he likes you a lot), he simply didn't have the time to. now here he was, after two months of complete radio silence, watching you sing from his corner of the bar.

he wants to tell you that he's here, talk your ear off about all that's happened to him but he was gone for some time, feeling unsure on how you'd react if he makes himself known.

sure you've known each other for some time now, you two were friends, best friends even although steven desperately wanted more. he's never admitted it though, happy to stay as friends with you if it meant keeping you by his side, too afraid that if he confesses, you might leave him to be by his lonesome self once again. steven can't handle that, he doesn't want to be alone again.

he wants to be selfish but he's scared it might drive you away, even more so after the stunt he'd pull for seemingly ghosting you. layla returns to their seat with two pints of beer in hand. she was about to call out to her husband until she takes note of his posture.

hunched shoulders as if trying to make himself small, the nervous bounce of his leg as he runs a hand through his slicked back hair causing a few curls to fall in front of his face. she sees his eyes, wide and openly staring at the lady performing on the stage, longing lingering within those earthy eyes with every passing second. "steven?" she calls as she set their drinks down on the table and taking a seat at the chair beside him, "are you okay?"

it was a simple question. at first he nods, mumbling a small 'yeah' before pausing and then shaking his head. "actually no, no i'm not okay layla." steven sighs, lowering his gaze to the floor before flickering towards her.

"i'm the farthest thing from okay because i might have just missed out on my only chance of asking out the girl of my dreams for, oh i don't know, dropping off the face of the planet around the same time of her birthday that i planned to take her out and celebrate only to get swept up with the whole khonshu and ammit business halfway across the globe?"

steven was being sarcastic but he was also speaking the truth. he had initially intended to ask you out on your birthday, it's why he promised to take you out stargazing, one of his favorite hobbies aside from reading books and learning french.

within the span of two months, layla's become fond of her husband's alter. it's not the same affection she pours towards marc, it was more like that you'd show to a younger brother. she takes his hands in his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she flashes him a smile. "you can't possibly know that steven, not until you try."

i have this dream you're doing cool shit

having adventures on your own

you meet some woman on the internet and take her home

as the song enters the second verse, your eyes sweep over the bar, finding familiar faces in the crowd until you see him. in the corner booth by the window is steven's familiar slumped form but he wasn't alone. no. beside him sat a pretty woman, voluminous dark curls and tan skin. her smaller hands curled around his own atop the table. of course. so this was why he's suddenly cut off contact with you, he's settled down with someone else.

for a second you nearly waver and stumble over your words but you were quick to catch and save yourself, tearing your eyes away from the couple.

you feel an onslaught of emotions wash over your already aching heart, willing yourself to keep it together until the end of the song. how foolish, you think to yourself, how foolish of you to think that what you had with steven ran deeper than just friendship. you turn your attention back to the crowd, masking your hurt as you put on a show for them. and try as you might, your eyes keep going back to steven and the woman and each time you look, the more your heart cracks and falls apart.

we never painted by the numbers, baby

but we were making it count

you know the greatest loves of all time are over now

maybe you should have told him sooner, told him all about the feelings your heart carried for him but now there's no chance because how can you possibly compare to her? she was pretty, you can tell even from where you stood. you feel a little sick to your stomach.

"i don't know layla, i'm already a proper prick for not even sending her one message for two months. two whole months i didn't contact her and tell her i was fine or even say how sorry i was for ditching her on her birthday of all days." steven sighed, exasperated and tired as he pulls his hands back from her grasp, running them down his face. he's so disappointed of himself.

he doesn't know how he can ever make it up to you. "well, you can always apologize to her first." layla gives him a smile, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "i know it's hard considering you can't tell her anything about what happened in egypt but it's worth a shot."

he shook his head, tears stinging the back of his eyes. "no layla. you of all people should know how it feels when someone you love completely cuts off any sort of contact with you for months, keeping you in the dark for god knows how long about who knows what. isn't that what happened with you and marc before i found his phone and called you?"

steven's eyes were a mix of serious, hurt and regret as he looks at layla, "it's not fair to her, keeping quiet about why and what happened during those two months. i already broke a promise, i don't want to break her heart too."

i guess you never know, never know

and it's another day waking up alone

your eyes follow their every movement, each touch and each look they share stabs another dagger into your already bleeding heart but you can't look away.

maybe it was some form of self-punishment that you're so unable to take your eyes off them, reminding yourself that you've lost to someone better, prettier, someone who steven was much more comfortable to be with. your voice wobbles but doesn't break, the same way your heart shatters but you remain standing. how foolish, you scold yourself once more, how foolish of you to think you ever even had a chance.

but we were something, don't you think so?

roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool

and if my wishes came true

it would've been you

in my defense, i have none

for never leaving well enough alone

but it would've been fun

your fingers grip the neck of your guitar tighter, knuckles turning white with the pressure as his head turns towards you, your eyes meeting. you see his eyes widen and you can feel your own doing the same but you can't look away. god, why won't you just look away?

steven feels his heart rate pick up as soon as he sees those eyes gazing upon him for the first time since they've entered the bar, the first time he's seen them in two months. you've always been beautiful to steven but he can't help but think how gorgeous you are on stage, a singular spotlight shining on you from above.

you look like an angel heaven sent down to earth with that pretty green dress he remembers you bought during spring, your favorite but worn out white doc martens and oh- his white denim jacket he'd let you take from his closet the first time he let you stay the night at his flat. he didn't know you still kept it around, somehow that sends a new wave of guilt to wash over him.

i, i, i persist and resist the temptation to ask you

if one thing had been different

would everything be different today?

you wonder what it would have been like if you had just confessed to him before... would he still end up disappearing or would you be happy, the same way you two end up being whenever you daydreamed of being in a relationship with steven.

thoughts like that made you happy, got you looking forward to the next time you and he set out on another excursion around london in quiet book shops and music stores. now all it does is put a bittersweet smile on your lips, chest tightening as you sing the bridge of the song, eyes finding its way back to him. and he's still looking at you, his deep pools of amber never leaving your form since you two made eye contact.

steven's afraid that if he looks away, you'll disappear.

"she's all i have."

you pour your heart out to the lyrics of the song as you continue to sing, closing your eyes shut as you press your lips against the mic. can he feel it? can he feel how much you're hurting? you hope he does. because ever since steven's arrival, your heart has split into two.

the song comes to an end, patrons clapping and cheering for more, the small tip jar next to you filled to the brim with plenty of notes and coins. as your fingers stop strumming against the strings of your guitar, you put on your best smile as you address the crowd before you.

"thank you guys for listening, really. i'll be taking a break and let these guys," you point to the band behind you with a breathless grin, "take over again. enjoy your evening folks."

we were something, don't you think so?

rosé flowing with your chosen family

and it would've been sweet

if it could've been me

you pack up your guitar hurriedly before getting off the stage, nearly bolting towards the staff room as you sling the leather case over your shoulders. your hands clasp the doorknob, twisting the copper ball as the frigid autumn air greets you once more.

you don't make it ten steps away when steven's breathless form blocks your path. eyes wide and frantic as he pants, curls falling over his eyes, hands curled into fists beside him. "please wait... give me a chance to explain!"

as it turns out, steven had made a run for it soon as he saw you get off stage, nearly running over bar-goers as he weaved through the crowd and exiting the front door, hoping he wasn't too late. he probably upset marc by leaving layla on her own but he's confident she can handle herself.

he takes notes of your glassy eyes and tense form, making him wish he could reach out and hug you but he can't. he knows better than to make you uncomfortable with him even more. "please." he breathes out almost quietly.

your hands ball into tight fists, nails digging into your palm so harshly you'd break the skin if you applied any more pressure. your lips press into a fine line, refusing to speak in fear that if you do, you'd only break down crying. steven takes your silence as a yes, and he exhales.

taking a step forward, he begins to talk. "i'm sorry. i truly am sorry. for disappearing, for missing out on your birthday, for not letting you know that i was alright, for everything that happened these two months i was gone." when you don't move nor speak, he takes it as a sign to continue.

"i know nothing i say will make this all magically better, i know that but please believe me when i say that i am truly apologetic for going away without prior notice. i know i have a tendency to disappear for a few days, two weeks at most but i've never gone for as long as two months. i can't tell you yet why but please believe me when i say that i did not mean for that to happen."

in my defense, i have none

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. "i don't need you to explain anything steven." his name rolls off your tongue for the first time in a while it almost feels foreign. you sniffle, tears threatening to spill over and you wipe them away with the sleeve of your (his) jacket.

"did you know how worried i was? none of my calls or messages were answered, your flat was empty no matter how many times i visit and gus the second almost died!" you rub your temple with a hand, vision blurring with tears no matter how many times you try to wipe them away.

"i called your work only to find out you were fired, hell i nearly reported you missing to the police after the second week passed and you haven't come back!"

you take a deep breath to calm yourself, brows knitted as you look at anywhere but steven standing just a few feet in front of you. "i stayed in your flat at least three times a week waiting for your return, praying to whatever god was listening that you were alright, breathing and alive."

pausing, you finally gain the courage to face him as he too let the tears fall down his face. "i thought you were kidnapped, or worse dead. alone, somewhere i don't know because you can't send me one fucking message that you're okay!" with every word you say, the tone of your voice raises, finally letting out your frustrations and sadness and hurt the last few months have caused you.

"i know i'm just your friend but i thought you'd at least have some decency in not making the people that care for you sick and worried to the bone!"

for digging up the grave another time

steven whimpers but he knows you're right. it's inexcusable how he had never made time to update you, writing a simple text of 'safe, be home soon' would take him less than two minutes, hell he can do that in even less but he didn't. he didn't. and in return it had caused you to worry and panic.

his head hangs low in shame, eyes squeezed shut as he lets you take it all out on him. marc was protesting in his head to return the body to him, not wanting steven to feel so.... miserable, although he was one of the biggest reasons why his friendship with you was falling apart. "i'm sorry..."

"i didn't realize i meant so little to you."

it was this one sentence from you that had his head snapping up, waving his hands in front of him as he sputtered, trying to convince you that you meant the world to him.

"n-no! no, no, you mean a lot to me okay? you mean so much to me you wouldn't believe me!" he hears you laugh but there's no humor in it, dejection and defeat hanging over you like a dark cloud. "you're right steven... i don't believe you. because that's not how it felt to me these past two months."

but it would've been fun

he makes a noise, the sound was a mix between a whimper and a cry as he tries to block your path once you begin to move away from him. "please, please believe me! you mean everything to me okay? everything! i love you!"

silence fills the air as you stop in your steps. looking back at him, tears freely flowing down your cheeks as you speak with the softest yet broken voice he'd ever hear from you. "and i love you. i loved you. and if you really feel the same, please just let my heart break in peace."

there's a pregnant pause between you as you take a breath with a shudder, shoulders shaking from trying to contain the sobs that wrack your body.

"i hope... i hope you're happy with her. she looked really beautiful tonight." confusion makes his brows furrowed as he tries to understand what you were saying until he hears marc whisper layla's name.

you'd mistaken layla as his partner, his significant other. although you weren't exactly wrong, you weren't right either. he wanted to scream, tell you that she wasn't who you thought she was and that i was you his heart wanted. it's you and it will always be you. but that heartbroken look on your face makes the words die on his tongue before he even had the chance to say it out loud.

it doesn't suit you, the tears, the frown, it doesn't suit you at all, he thinks to himself. he loves it when you smiled, when you laughed fully and he loved hearing you talk. he loves it when you call his name but now, now he might just never get the chance to hear you say it again.

you were right, he should just let your heart break in peace. it was the least he could do for you after all he's put you through, after breaking your heart. he regrets it, he thinks, not telling you that he loved you sooner. perhaps this could have all been easily avoided.

so he lets you go, even though in his heart, greedy as it is, you will forever have a home deep within its crevices, safely nestled and cocooned between his lungs and ribs. you were the one, you were and always will be his only one.

if you would've been the one

[prince-liest]

Hi, I just wanted to say I really like your stuff! You were one of the first fanfiction writers I ever got into, and your radiostatic writing is some of the best I've ever read! The 666 series is definitely my favorite, and I've always loved your characterization and expansive vocabulary. After I discovered some of your cool stuff on Ao3, I followed you on Tumblr, and it's super awesome learning more about what you're interested in and all that jazz. I always find your posts about plants and life working in the medical field super informative and intriguing, and I've even done some research on plants on my own time because I thought they were so neat. And I also find it super awesome to learn new medical terms and facts from you. Fun fact, I'm also the anon from the other day's girlfriend who "consistently checks and reloads your blog to see if you have posted," and she's right, I think your stuff is super cool! This is way longer than I wanted it to be, and I am indeed yapping your ear off, but what I was planning to ask is if you could share what kind of music you like? Thanks <333

Ahhhh, thank you so much for your lovely words! <3 I'm genuinely really happy that my blog can bring a little bit of interest excitement into your life! I generally post about things I enjoy and my own nerdery so it's always gratifying to know I'm sharing my interests with folks that also like them!

As for my taste in music: I think it's fairly eclectic, but it kind of just boils down to "things I find catchy." I'm particularly fond of songs that tell stories (ie. musicals, those country songs about women killing their husbands, I used to be really into Vocaloids), but for the most part I'm just a sucker for bops. If I had to narrow it down to a selection of genres, it would probably be musical theatre, rock, and pop. Definitely not restricted to those genres at all, though.

Lately I've been listening to Careful What You Wish For (the doctor said to) by Jack Harris because it fits the driving to work at 5am vibes, even though it makes me want to yell, "That's not how 'antidepressants can increase your risk of suicide' works!!!!!" about one of the lines lmaoooo

[aceofstars0]

Goodbye..

Song I was listening to and also suggest you listen to: The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals

Warning: this fic is VERY gorey, horrific, all that jazz so read at your own risk! It also has spoilers for the ending of Demon Slayer.

This is an au of the Milo Kocho au btw

As Muzan is restrained outside and starts to burn up, Milo is begging and pleading Basil inside to turn back. Her eyes are filled with tears and she has scratches and cuts and bruises all over her body, but she is determined to save him.

Kanao arrives with a fourth syringe, and quickly inserts it into Basil before leaving to hrlo with other slayers. He falls down for a minute as Milo panics.

"Mi-o?"

Basil wakes up and looks at her, his eyes and hair slowly turning back to normal.

"Basil!!"

The area is spinning, blurry, and the colors are inverted.

"Wh...at? Wh-is ha-ing?"

Basil's voice cuts out and skips letters.

"W-voice-at?"

Basil starts to panic, as he realizes that he can't move his arms either

Both of their faces turn confused.

"Basil, wha...what's happening to your voice?"

"I-d-now..?"

Basil shifts to sit up, but their arms dont move, like they are sown into the ground. They try to close their eyes, but they sting and stay in place.

Milo holds his arms in an attempt to heal him, but instead her hands come back bruised.

The scab on Basil's forehead from where he was turned to a demon, starts opening up. Milo only realizes when a glistening streak of white starts running down basil's face.

"B-asil... your scars..."

As he glanced around, he noticed all his scars and bruises had been reopening.

Milo starts crying, she looks into Basil's eyes, which were also crying, and hugged him.

"I-an't m-ve"

Suddenly, Basil's left eye grows black, and the blood from his forehead turns red, then white, then red again. He stares forward, not moving, nor breathing

He stays like that for a minute, while milo pulls back and watches him.

With a large gasp, he comes back to life suddenly. His head is thrown back as his eyes turn fully black. His arms and legs contract, and then his whole body relaxes and he falls back asleep.

"Milo, what's happening to basil...?" Kanao had come back over to basil and milo after hearing the panic.

"I-I don't know! His body's doing weird things!" When she looked over, she noticed basil's left arm separate from its forearm and blood covering the area. She looked over to his right arm, which was deteriorating in the same place it had previously been lost, pooling with red and white blood.

Basil wakes back up, looks down, and cries harder than he had previously. He moves his hand to ease a sudden pain in his jaw, but can't reach without his arm.

Temporarily, basil's skin becomes more vibrant and colored, like Milo's. All his pain ceases, but the bleeding does not stop. They look at milo, and smile.

"Mallow, I love you..."

Their whole body falls.

Their hair turns brown, black, white, and every pastel it used to be, flickers.

Their skin pulses and bruises and turns pale.

Their eyes flicker black and white.

Milo hugs him, as tight as she can, her tears running into Basil's changing hair.

Basils body freezes, their pulse ceasing.

"I love you too."

Milo falls onto him, and succumbs to her injuries, the two lovers dying in eachother's arms.

A/N wow! First fic and it's killing off my and @larz-barz ocs! I seriously didn't know I could write something like this, and I did it all in one sitting. Hope I didn't cross any lines of gore because it's VERY gorey but I've posted it now so 🤷

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Just as note, Dabi isn't a member of LOV in this fic. I explain all of it in the chapter, but I didn't want to make him a villain in this fic, mostly cuz that's my baby daddy & he deserves better. Enjoy! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

************

Chapter Four: We're All Friends Here.

“Can you stop doing that, please?” Rei sighs from behind the wheel of his Benz. 

You, sitting in the passenger’s seat beside him, barely spare him a glance. “Doing what?” you ask dryly.

You watch as trees and cars whiz by as Rei drives slightly above the speed limit to get to Fatgum’s wedding. Your feet are up on the dashboard, your painted toes in some sexy-looking Steve Madden heels to match your peach-colored sundress and go along with the braids that you tied up in a bun on your head. 

“Acting like you’re not pissed when you are,” Rei replies. He clenches the wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. “Look, I said I was sorry, Y/N, but I can’t help that I lost my wallet.” 

“No, you can’t,” you begin, about to drag his ass to hell and back, “but you can help that you didn’t show up on time when you specifically told me 9 AM and showed up at 11 PM. The wedding started at 11 PM, Rei.” 

“I’m aware of that,” he growls, forced to stop at a red light. “That’s why I’m hurrying as fast as I can without risking getting a ticket. Cut me some lack, Y/N. I was out patrolling last night.” 

You turn to him, irked. Despite how clean and handsome he looks in his crisp button-down to match your dress, slacks, and red-bottom shoes, that does nothing to distract you from your anger.

You had promised Keigo you’d show up on time and you never go back on your promises unless something serious happens. So for Rei to not respect that and make this about his lost wallet (which he found under his car seat later) is really starting to work your nerve.

“You didn’t have to come with me today, Rei,” you say, a bite in your tone. “I told you you didn’t have to last night, but you refused. Now we’re two hours late for the wedding! Fatgum is probably already married by now!” 

“We’ll get there,” Rei reassures you, pressing down on the gas as soon as the traffic light flicks to green. “Just chill out, okay? I don’t want us going in here mad at each other.” You feel his hand move to squeeze your knee, but you don’t move to hold his hand or push it away. You try to act like it’s not there, like some pestering fly. 

There is a part of you that feels guilty for being so mad at your boyfriend. You know you can’t help what comes with the job as a pro, but you also know he can sure as hell take off from a night of patrolling, especially on the night before a very important event for you, which he said he’d attend. Even you got your patrols and other pro work out the way this week to prepare for Fatgum’s wedding. 

Rei’s decisions only validate what is more important to him than you are: his ranking. While you understand the pressure he’s under to be the best in the eyes of the public and the Hero’s Commission, you also understand that there is more to life than just a higher popularity number.

Like healthy communication and good sex. And while Rei is a great pro and an even better person, he doesn’t understand that more is needed to be a good boyfriend. 

Your mood only gets lower and lower with every passing minute as you sink deeper into your thoughts. You wonder how it’s possible to have a relationship like Fatgum and Haruko’s.

How do two people survive for six years? When do you realize you want to be with someone for the rest of your life? How does it happen? 

You’re hoping for answers when Rei finally gets to the park and parks his car in the lot. By the time you get out of the car, fix your hair, and get Fatgum and Haruko’s wedding gift, the reception has already started.

Everyone is now out and about, enjoying the dance floor. Some are on the dance floor, enjoying the tunes the DJ is spinning, while others are lounging at their tables or enjoying the pleasures of the park by snapping photos in the gazebos or taking walks. 

Others are circling the snack table where you find Fatgum and Haruko standing at their large, towering wedding cake drizzled in strawberry and vanilla frosting. Fatgum kisses Haruko’s cheek as they cut the first slice together, their wedding bands glinting in the sun. He catches sight of you and gives you a wink, glad to see you. 

The long snack table they stand at is covered in delicacies and expensive foods only Fatgum thought to add: fruit and cracker towers; charcuterie plates; bowls of salads and soups; spreads of potato salad, collard greens, mac n’ cheese, and every meat and fish known to man: ribeye steaks, grilled salmon, tilapia, chicken, and fried wings coated in hot sauce. Your stomach growls and you realize you haven’t eaten yet. 

“Y/N!” someone calls to you. You find Rumi waving you over to a table where she, Keigo, Sakura, Yu, and Nemuri are all sitting.

Keigo is the first to greet you and you have to say that the man certainly knows how to clean up: he looks incredibly handsome in his tailored black suit and red bottom shoes. 

The scent of his cologne fills your nose as you hug him, tickling your senses. “Glad you finally made it,” he says, giving you an adoring smile. Seeing his face seems to make everything better until you notice his smile falter a bit at the sight of Rei behind you.

“Tempo!” he happily greets, putting his hand out for a shake. “So you decided to join us losers today.” 

Rei’s eyes tick to Keigo’s hand hesitantly before he slowly takes it, as if unsure if the winged pro is serious with his cordial attitude or not. “Promised to be her date. Of course, I’d show up.”

You inwardly sigh, already knowing that Rei’s dislike for Keigo will be an issue today. For some reason, he just doesn’t like your best friend. 

Rumi sidles up to you in her red dress, looking like a damn Amazon. “I bet,” she snickers, “with you lookin’ like that. Tryna take someone else home tonight, sexy?”

You shoo her away with a laugh before walking over to the table where Yu, Nemuri, and Sakura sit, Fatgum and Haruko’s wedding gift still in your hands. “Hey,” you greet, hugging each girl. “Sorry we’re so late. You take pictures of the wedding?” 

“Absolutely!” Nemuri giggles, already moving to show you the slew of pictures on her phone.

Your heart melts at the sight of Eri as the flower girl and Fatgum slipping a wedding band onto Haruko’s finger. How you would’ve loved to witness such a beautiful moment! Now, you’re pissed at Rei even more. “But you’re here now!” Yu says with a bright smile. “And you look just as amazing as Sakura does.” 

Sakura blushes at the compliment. “She is right about that,” you giggle, sitting down next to the pink-haired girl. “You do look amazing.” Sakura giggles softly, reminding you of the cutest fairy: tiny, innocent, and pure. “Thank you, but your outfit definitely beats mine with those shoes. I’d die if I walked in those things.” 

Keigo takes a seat between you and Sakura, a new glass of champagne in his hand. You look around, noticing the empty seat that belongs to your renowned good guy, ex-villain friend. “Dabi couldn’t make it?” you mutter to him. 

“More like he couldn’t bribe the warden to give him back his perks after that riot, but he’s workin’ on it,” Keigo whispers back before taking a big gulp of champagne.

You sit back in your seat, disappointed that Dabi won’t be coming, but you should’ve known something would go wrong. He is in prison, after all. 

Dabi has been in your life just as long as Keigo and Rumi. While you met Keigo long before UA, you met Dabi and Rumi at the same time while attending UA for high school. Dabi, you went by Touya Todoroki back then, was training to be a hero and took a liking to you three almost immediately. It was the four of you all day, every day; a special quartet…. 

That is the one day Dabi cracked when his baby brother Shoto was born and his shit father Enji aka no. 1 pro Endeavor became more fond of him than Dabi. After that, he ditched the white hair for stark black, stayed to himself, and started skipping classes until he was finally kicked out. You had no idea what happened. 

Years later when Shoto started attending UA himself, Dabi finally showed back up. When you and Keigo were called about a LOV attack downtown, you were beyond dumbfounded to see your old friend, all scars and staples, his beautiful, porcelain skin ruined.

Even more dumbfounded to realize that he was now a villain and was against his friends. You had cried for weeks over this, being held by Keigo and Rumi, the only two who understood the pain and guilt you felt over Dabi’s new life path. 

However, that was then. Dabi has since changed his tune. After exposing Endeavor’s abusive past to all of Japan and getting him blackballed, Dabi sacrificed himself to save Shoto from a villain attack orchestrated by the LOV, nearly getting killed.

He was in a coma for a month after that. You, Keigo, and Rumi were right there beside him all that time. When he awakened, it was as if he had completely flipped a switch.

You don’t know what he experienced while in his coma, but it caused him to wash out his hair dye, leave LOV, and turn himself in to the police for his wrongdoings. “I have to atone for my sins,” was all he said. 

It was all over the news for weeks until, like all news, it faded over time. Because Dabi saved Shoto’s life, he and his family (minus Endeavor) implored the judge to shorten his sentence.

Now, as part of his deal, Dabi is in prison until his 40th birthday with the possibility of parole with good behavior. Since then, you’ve been visiting and calling him, making sure he’s keeping up with his good track record. 

The last time you saw him was a month ago over drinks. He had strode in with his snow-white hair and an ankle monitor on his ankle that would shock the fuck out of him if he tried to run.

As part of his perks, he is given one day of freedom outside of prison every two weeks. He was saving up his days to visit after Fatgum’s wedding, but things took a negative turn when a riot thrown by quirked inmates broke out a week ago.

Believing Dabi was the one who orchestrated it, the warden “momentarily” took away Dabi’s perks. But Dabi is smart, so you know he has some tricks up his sleeve. He was a villain, after all. 

But damn, you wish he was here now to liven up this terribly tense silence that settles on the table. Yu and Nemuri look at Rumi who stares at Keigo who stares at Rei who stares right back at him.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, the urge to flee too much. “So, Sakura!” you squeak, cutting through the horrible silence. “How’s work going for you?” 

Sakura looks almost glad that you asked, obviously feeling the tension too. “As soon as it can go when you’re working as a nurse plus customer service,” she sighs tiredly. “I do it for the kids, but those parents try my nerves.” 

“I definitely get it,” you reply empathetically. “As a pro, you have to work well with people too, especially when patrolling.” Sakura’s eyes light up at the mention of your hero's work. “Speaking of which, will you be attending the Heroes’ Gala later next month? Are you up for any awards?” 

“Yep!” you proudly say. “I’m up for best fighter, so I’ve been really trying to go hard with my training.”

Keigo smirks at you. “I got the bruises to prove it,” he chuckles, alluding to your training sessions that have taken a pause due to Fatgum’s wedding and because you didn’t want to give Keigo any more bruises that he couldn’t cover.

Yet another reason why Rei strongly dislikes your friend: your closeness. He doesn’t quite understand that this is just the relationship you and Keigo share. It’s like the bond between brother and sister. 

“What about you, Rei?” Sakura asks. Rei smiles at her, and you can tell he’s overjoyed that she asked. “I’m nominated for most fearless,” he proudly states as he sips his champagne. “Then at the end of the year, I’m heading for no. 8. That’s why I’ve been working like the world is gonna end lately. Y/N definitely knows.” 

You duck your head to hide your irked expression. “Yeah,” you mutter before you can stop yourself. “I definitely know.” Luckily, only Keigo and Rumi hear you and share a look with each other. One of them has to get you out of here before you start stabbing your boyfriend.

“Seesh, look at that waterfall!” Rumi hollers, pointing to the foundation at the snack table overflowing with chocolate fondu and surrounded by guests. 

“Y/N, help me fight to get at that fondu fountain. My sweet tooth is talkin’ to me.” Rumi gets out of her seat and loops your arm in hers, dragging you away from the table. “Bring back some wings!” Keigo shouts after you both as you walk away from the group and head towards the snack table. 

As you do, Rumi snatches a glass of champagne from a random tray and hands it to you. “Had to get you out of there,” she whispers. “That shit was awkward. You looked like you were about to choke Rei out.” 

“I can’t help it,” you groan defeatedly. “This morning was a shit show! It wasn’t the fact he lost his wallet, but he showed up so late when he promised he’d be at our condo by 9. I missed the wedding because of his negligence.” 

“Seems like he’s been negligent with a few things lately,” Rumi replies knowingly. “I can tell. When he’s over, all I hear is him and no you.” You stare at her wide-eyed. “Yes, I can hear y’all have sex, Y/N,” she chuckles, pointing at her ears. “With these things, I can hear a tree fall in the forest.” 

“That’s so embarrassing,” you groan. You’re not sure if you’re referring to the fact that your friend has heard you and your boyfriend have sex or to the fact that you’re crickets compared to Rei. 

“So I’m guessin’ the sex has been lacking too?” Rumi questions, raising a brow when you finally make it to the snack table. 

You busy yourself with gathering some salad with a side of grilled chicken and potato salad to hide your embarrassment. “It’s only because he’s been working so hard to get his award and a high rank,” you say in a hushed tone for Rumi’s ears only. “And when we do have sex, he’s not as attentive as I want him to be. Either that or I’m not connecting with him.” 

Rumi scowls confusedly at you, a kabob of fruit for fondu in her hand. “I’m not following.”

You sigh, realizing you’ll have to be a bit clearer. “I love Rei,” you explain, “but I feel nothing when we have sex. When we kiss or have any other physical contact that isn’t sexual, I get the urge to fuck him, but when I actually do it, there are no fireworks setting off in my head.” 

Even saying it makes you feel ill. “Sex is a big part of relationships for me. Without that, what do we have?”

Rumi whistles lowly, a hand on her toned hip. “A very dry relationship in need of some lubin’ up,” she replies. “Either that or just dumb the guy.”

You glare at her angrily and she puts her hands up in defense. “Look, I know you don’t want to break up with him over this, but if you’re this upset over it, why even bother? You don’t even look happy, girl!” 

You want to point out to Rumi that it isn’t like Rei is a casual hookup or a guy you’ve only been dating for a few weeks. You’ve been together for a year! You have history and he’s truly a great boyfriend despite the dry spell and your feelings of being neglected because of his work.

“I love him, Rumi,” you say, exasperated, “and I wanna try with him.” 

That’s all the reason you give Rumi but it’s enough to shut her up. “Give me some advice,” you plead. “You have good sex, right? And don’t act like you don’t ‘cause you’re not exactly quiet either.” 

You raise a knowing brow at her. Many times you’ve heard the bunny hero going at it in her bedroom with her hookups of the week, most of them during nights when you’re in need of sleep before work. 

Rumi gives you a sheepish smile. “Guilty as charged,” she chuckles. “Well, have you ever talked to him about your kinks?” 

Her simple question makes you reach back into the furthest parts of your brain for an answer. Have you talked about your kinks with Rei? You’ve tried the handcuffs, but since that didn’t work, kink never saw the light of day again in your relationship.

However, you can’t remember ever flat-out telling him you loved spankings or for a guy to spit on your pussy. And what about your degradation kink? Or your desire for exhibitionism? He’d look at you like you’re crazy! 

You shake your head silently at Rumi. “Start there then,” she encourages. “Or maybe try to do something more adventurous with him to spice things up. That usually always works.” She passes you a fresh glass of champagne. “I’d suggest gettin’ some alcohol in him first.” 

You turn back to stare at Rei, finding him chatting with Jeanist and Ms. Joke. Nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach at Rumi’s advice, but it’s something you know will probably be easier than you believe it will be…right? 

“Hey, you two!” Keigo grabs you and Rumi’s attention, looking impatient. “You gonna gossip or get some wings for me? I need some before I pick either one of you as a dance partner.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at both of you and begins subtly moving his hips to the band playing a cover of Rihanna, the lead singer crooning into the mic. 

Rumi looks at him in playful disgust. “With your big ass wings?” she scoffs. “No, thanks. You’d knock me over.” Keigo gives her a mock offended look as she sashays by him, heading back to the table. “Come on, you two!” she shouts over her shoulder. 

You inwardly groan, not wanting to sit back down in the awkwardness of that table. But when Keigo gives you that reassuring smile that everything will be okay, all of that dread vanishes. “Well, she’s waiting for us, baby bird.” He hooks his arm through yours, smiling at you. “Better not keep her waiting.” 

Without another word, you let Keigo drag you back to the table with your food and much-needed champagne in hand. 

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: A Pestiferous Job

This post may or may not be useful depending on how nitty-gritty realistic you want your story world to be, and whether or not you want to get your characters into unpleasant situations. Or just show the unpleasant consequences of what would otherwise have been happy situations, like your Hero sleeping in a haystack with his faithful hound. Great image, evokes all kinds of feelings of loyalty and tenderness....

And, for me, itching. Because, as the saying goes, lie down with dogs... ahem.

Fleas, ticks, and other nasty biters are a part of the world most of us would like to do without. In a modern world with good sanitation, we can spend large chunks of our lives totally free of the little buggers. (For which, I don’t know about you, but I am most heartily grateful.)

However even we can’t totally wipe them out, and it doesn’t take much to come in contact with the nasties again. Hunting, grooming your pets, rescuing animals, walking through the wrong patch of tall grass - fleas, ticks, and worse are always out there. In our world they’re a present but usually manageable health risk. In fantastic settings, they may be much, much worse.

How much worse? For that we just need to look at history. If you want recent stuff, look up Lyme Disease, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, the havoc West Nile has wreaked on corvid populations. Older stuff? Malaria and typhus may be more your jazz. And of course, the classic, the Queen of Deadly Terror and Grim Reaper’s own Handmaid - the Black Plague.

Yeah. That one was bad; can still be bad, if doctors don’t recognize what you’ve got and jab you full of antibiotics. Because we have Yersinia pestis in the U.S., especially in prairie dogs, and every year some people catch it.

What we don’t have is the particular Eurasian species of flea the plague hitchhikes on. Oh, it can spread from native fleabites - but our local fleas deliver a lot less bacteria in a bite, making infection much less likely. One of the things our Customs and Border Patrol are supposed to look for is alien flea infestations. With good reason.

In your worlds, someone’s going to have to handle pest control. Or plagues will hit, again and again. What form that control takes is up to you. No matter what the tech level, habits of cleanliness go a long way toward stymieing pests. But if prevention fails? Then you need to eliminate the problem.

The trick is the use things that kill pests and not people. For example, diatomaceous earth is very effective at doing in a lot of arthropods. It’s like mini-glass knives, slicing chitin so pests dehydrate to death. Works - but you don’t want it anywhere you might breathe it, because it’ll do just as nasty a job slashing tiny holes in your lungs.

(There is food-safe diatomaceous earth, meant to prevent pests in stored grain. Note, you don’t want to breathe that either.)

The Ship Who Searched, by Anne McCaffrey and Mercedes Lackey, had an excellent example of alien disease-causing pests. I recc’ a read.

So... not something every story needs. But if you’re looking at disease in your story, think about it.

[fox-sama97]

Ignore at Your Own Risk- Chapter 3

Sorry it took so long to get this out but it's finally here! It's probably a little rougher than before due to the length of it, but also my friend who read over my other chapters was busy and couldn't read over this one. Wanted to post it tonight, so let me know what y'all think! Here's a snippet of the beginning for some Jazz motivation! Later in the chapter we get into body horror and eldritch horror so be warned!

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Ectoblasts, a subdued, barely glowing green, lit up the night as Jazz fired, wavering until they burst like fireworks around a thousand feet out. The illumination was just barely bright enough to show the shadow of a woman flying through the air on a sled.

With the barest twitch of her finger, Jazz swapped firing modes. Three thinner and brighter ectoblasts firing from her Fenton rifle, two splashing into the shadow of a woman, pushing her back and lighting her up like a flash of lightning, as the other shot went past her face.

Dark red full bodysuit, small dented wooden circles resting on vital areas, and a large blaster resting on her shoulder that let off a brief red glow as it discharged.

Jazz ran, weaving around the shots, muscles burning, lungs pumping, mind straining to predict the erratic flight path of the woman as she readied her next shot. Barely a hitch in her step as she raised her rifle and fired another burst of three, only registering one more confirmed shot before the light was gone and her finger twitched to swap firing modes again. Another three shots, fatter and darker than before, exploded in the air, the green starburst splashing onto the woman, dimly glowing residue sticking to her suit and the wooden circle on her torso.

The woman immediately spun around, flight pattern more erratic as she zipped around, left, right, a steep dive only to pull up less than a second after, all the while red blasts raining down around Jazz.

Barely sparing a glance as she dodged by the thinnest margin, Jazz raised her rifle again, the smallest hitch in her step as she swapped modes and fired, three blasts slamming into the wooden circle, only the first slightly off center.

She slowed, her legs wobbling, body screaming to rest, but she ignored it, staying upright and forcing her body to be still by sheer force of will. She watched as the woman reached the ground, suit and sled folding up across her body until it seemed to seep into her skin, not a trace left by the time she reached Jazz, broken wooden circles all that was left to showcase their practice.

"We'll need to go again. I'm still stumbling when I start firing and my aim is still off." Jazz stated, forcing herself to breathe normally.

"Well damn, give me some credit too, Jazz. It's my job to not get hit."

Jazz felt a rush of anger through her, fire tingling in her limbs, before she forced calm on herself, allowing one slightly more forceful breath out. "It's also your job to hit me and I'm unharmed, Val. Your patterns are predictable again. You'll need to change them before the real thing."

Red lit up Valerie's eyes before she closed them. A slow even breath filtering out of her lips.

Shame settled in Jazz's stomach like a lead weight. "I-I'm sorry Val. I appreciate you training with me like this."

"It's okay, you're right. I need to work on it some more." Valerie's eyes opened again, back to their normal green color. "Do…do you wanna talk about it?"

"No need, you can just get out your suit and sled and we'll start again." Jazz's eyes tracked to the side, intently sweeping the area around them, not looking at Valerie.

"You know that's not what I meant Jazz. Do you wanna talk about what's happening? Do…do you wanna talk about Danny?"

Jazz froze, shoulders tensing, eyes closed, her breath catching in her throat as she suppressed a sob. Mind tumbling over itself to throw her failures into her face.

—---------

Jazz was a good sister. This fact she'd written onto the core of her being. She'd practically raised Danny, her parents too scattered and preoccupied with their portal project to give either of them the time they needed, much less the attention they deserved.

She'd been the one to walk him to school.

She'd made his breakfast and lunch, and usually dinner too.

She'd helped with his homework and pinned his drawings to the fridge.

She'd listened to all his troubles and tried to give him advice.

She was a good sister, she had to be a good sister.

But when she got to high school, well Danny was old enough, smart enough to take care of himself. He'd made friends and started pulling away a bit, and she'd let him.

She wanted to make friends too, have a childhood too, even if it felt too late for it. Not that she had as much luck in that as her brother. They'd both been thoroughly branded as the Weird Fenton kids, and unlike Danny, even the weird kids in her grade didn't want to hang out with her. Too unreliable for them, she'd never had the time to hang out and no one expected that to change. Didn't matter anyway, Spike was gone too.

Jazz had to be a good sister. She hadn't been.

Learning that she'd looked away, neglected her duties and found out that her brother had died when she had?

It broke her, just a little. When had she stopped paying attention to him? Good sisters don't let their brother die and not even notice it.

She knew she could be overbearing and annoying but she didn't think she'd hurt him so much he wouldn't tell her.

She'd tried to support him, to earn back the trust she'd obviously lost when he hadn't come to her with this. She'd started sabotaging Jack and Maddie's not her parents anymore, not after what they did inventions, leading them away from Phantom and retraining her body in the martial arts that Maddie had shown her years ago.

And it worked! She had her brother's trust again too late and she was a good sister. But not good enough.

He told her about the portal accident, eventually, how he'd died but not all the way. She'd comforted him as he'd cried like he hadn't since he was six and gotten a chemical burn, her fault, for not pushing Jack and Maddie's chemicals farther back on the table.

He'd never wanted to be Phantom, he was only doing it because it was his fault the portal even worked and he couldn't admit it was Jack and Maddie's fault for making the damned thing in the first place. He still loved them, unlike her, still wanted them to love him.

Jazz wasn't a good sister.

She knew how Danny got his powers. Knew it worked as well as it did because of how liminal he'd already been from a lifetime of exposure to ectoplasm. She could make it work again, turn herself into a Halfa. She may not have been as liminal as Danny, but she was close. Closer than Vlad was at least.

But Vlad had spent months dying slowly, getting his powers even slower. Danny had died all at once, taken days to develop his first powers, and months learning to use them.

And as far as she could tell, they'd been lucky. Most would have just died, their ghosts may have even been ripped apart or been driven insane. Or been trapped between realms forever, never to be heard from again.

She loved her little brother, would take his place in a second, and die for him in less if it would save him. But she'd seen what her death, his friend's deaths had done to him. How it had turned him into a monster he still had nightmares about. She couldn't recreate his accident on herself, not when she didn't know if it would work, not when it would destroy him if she died, killing him all over again.

And now, with Sam and Tucker dead, Danny throwing himself into self destructive grief and revenge, there was nothing she could do.

Now when he needed someone to take this burden the most, she could afford the risk the least. Losing her now, so soon after Sam and Tucker? He wouldn't survive it and neither would the world.

She wasn't a good sister, not when the best she could do for him was to stay alive. She had to be better, had to train more, until she could support him against the Justice League and keep him from making a mistake, from going too far, becoming something he'd never forgive himself for.

She couldn't help but feel it still wasn't enough.

—-------

"There's…there's nothing to talk about. We've compromised on what we can live with. I'll support Danny. That's all there is." Jazz stated, voice almost fragile at the start, but firm with her resolve as she continues.

"Red, I know you hate the plan, you don't have to lie to me. You certainly haven't made it a secret."

"I want justice just as much as you do, Val. I just think…we all needed more time to grieve first. Danny is…he's hurting so much right now. We all are. I just don't want him to do something out of grief that he can't live with afterwards."

Valerie hesitated, before slowly clapping her hand onto Jazz's shoulder. "He won't, he's got you there to make sure of it."

Jazz let the ghost of a smile cross her face, about to continue when the crunch of dead grass reached their ears.

Jazz raised her rifle, green light sparking in the barrel as she wiped around, noting Valerie's blaster folding out of her arm, both aiming towards the noise.

Slowly a boy, just as dirty as the rest of them, walked into view, hands already raised in surrender. "Paulina's group caught Batman, he's sitting pretty in the jailhouse." The boy didn't even stay to make sure they heard, turning around and jogging away the moment he finished.

"Uuuughhh, she's gonna be even more insufferable now. Why couldn't literally anyone else get him," Valeria groaned, lowering her weapon. "I gotta go look into this. Make sure they actually properly disarmed him. See ya later, Red!" She said, jumping into the air, jet sled unfolding beneath her and shooting off with a whisper of wind.

Jazz watched her go, rifle still in hand. There was no turning back now, all she could hope to do was mitigate the damage.