#still fleshing out this part of his life but yanno

[aeternxm]

how long had they been down here in this dingy little room? an hour? two? few weeks maybe? shit -- takeshi's lost track of time. not because he's trapped, nah nah nah -- way better than that. and sure, takeshi could just say who he's got down here, but where's the fun in that? a swift kick to the ribs has a VERY special guest trying to curl up into a ball, rolling onto his back exposing a face beaten and bloody, barely recognizable. but takeshi knows exactly who it is -- peers down at the man with a look that can only be described as unbridled EXCITEMENT.

❝ havin' fun down there? ❞ the question is posed innocently, as if takeshi hasn't beaten him within an inch of his life every day for the last week. ❝ thought y' would be -- honestly. thought ya'd be so damn excited fer th' opportunity t' have a lil' role reversal. how many times was i down there till ya broke me in, huh? ten? twelve? ❞ the memories flash through his mind and once, they had caused takeshi pain. the begging, the pleading for him to stop -- i-i'll be better seunghyun, please jus' stop! please i -- i won't fuck up again! he remembers crying, curled up in a ball -- tears staining his face as he cried to his dead mother, like that bitch would be able to save him from his fate. prayed to his father -- like that coward had ever thought about anyone other than himself in his fuckin' life.

but now? shit -- those are fond memories, shit for the spank bank, yeah? seunghyun had gotten exactly what he wanted, putting takeshi through that shit. he'd broken him -- or at least that's what he'd say. nah, takeshi came out stronger, determined -- nothin' could fuckin' touch him now -- he was unstoppable.

and it's all thanks to seunghyun.

❝ should thank ya, really. if ya didn't do tha' -- well, fuck, who knows what would've happened. prob'ly still be me down there, huh? but i ain't yer fuckin' bitch anymore, seungie. m' better than ya -- always have been. jus' took some time fer me ta realize. ❞ he sneers, gathering a glob of spit in his mouth before lobbing it at the pathetic excuse of a man on the ground.

takeshi barely registers the sound of a door opening, heavy footsteps coming up behind him and a large hand sprawling itself across his back. takeshi knows who it is without even looking behind him, hums softly -- almost like he's content now that sukuna's here. ❝ here ta watch th' show, baby? ain't even started th' best part yet. was waitin' fer ya-- ❞ he doesn't give sukuna a chance to reply, doesn't feel like he needs to. sukuna knows that this is takeshi's moment -- knows just how long he's waited to do this. hell, the only reason the two of them had met had been because of takeshi finally putting his plan into action.

he steps off to the side to grab bertha. takeshi eyes the bat like it's some kind of long lost lover. she's gotten him through a lot -- feels some sorta connection to the thing. sure, it's just a bat -- there are other weapons that would be far more effective, but bertha ain't just any weapon, yanno? she's a special lady -- only the best for her!

takeshi casts his gaze down toward seunghyun again, watches with a bored expression as he tries to stand. he's kneeling, one foot flat on the ground, his hands braced on his leg as he tries to find the strength to stand. s'cute, really. that he thinks he has a chance of actually getting out of this alive, that he's still got some fight in him yet. but that's fine, let 'em think that -- takeshi'll beat that shit outta him in no time at all.

he swings bertha 'round once, twice, a third time before raising it above his head and swinging it down, a sick rush of adrenaline rushing through him as the barbs dig themselves into the flesh of seunghyun's calf. seunghyun screams, and all takeshi can do is laugh as he drags the bat back, watching as the flesh rips open and blood pours from the wounds. ❝ know yer fuckin' place -- seungie. trash stays right fuckin' there-- ❞ a kick to the other's side sends him toppling to the ground once again, and oh, takeshi can hear him sobbing and it's like music to his fuckin' ears. takeshi draws the bat back once again, letting it connect with the other's stomach and damn near MOANING at the blood splattering over his face and hands. seunghyun coughs, choking on his own blood that's pooling in his mouth.

❝ s'been so good havin' ya here , seungie. but yer jus' kinda borin' now -- yanno? ❞ a step forward, grin widening as seunghyun starts gargling out something -- begging, maybe? he looks scared enough. another step and he's trying to distance himself from takeshi, like that'll do him any good. ❝ i ain't got any use fer ya now. remember what ya taught me? if it ain't worth nothin' -- get rid of it. ❞ a sinister smile, as he catches seunghyun's gaze. takeshi looks behind him for a moment, sees the look on sukuna's face and oh -- he can tell, without a shadow of a fuckin' doubt that he's enjoying just as much as takeshi -- maybe even more. he's stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall lookin' every bit as handsome as ever. ❝ whaddya think, baby? should i put 'em outta his misery? ❞ an innocent look, like he's asking sukuna his opinion on what outfit he should wear for a night out. but sukuna's response is every bit as exciting as takeshi had hoped it would be. of course it was! god -- they were fuckin' perfect for each other, huh? real match made in hell--

show no mercy. he doesn't deserve it.

takeshi laughs as he turns back to the poor excuse of a man before him. ❝ hear tha'? i don't think sukuna likes ya too much -- tch, unlucky. ❞ takeshi closes what little distance there is between the two of them, fucks around by tapping seunghyun's forehead with the end of the bat, a pained ground as the barbed wire pierces the skin there. ❝ life's a game -- yeah? y' win some an' y' lose some. shame tha' ya lost. ❞ takeshi lines bertha up again, aiming for seunghyun's skull, taking a second to really appreciate the way he looks all beaten and bruised.

❝ 死ね-- ❞

[labratting]

// alright so. retcon ig! I will likely keep this version of charlie on request, prolly as a sideblog on kyr’s account. but apart from that, this blog will be for a very different man. if you still want your character to recognize who he is based on other version of him, thats cool! he might just have some choice words about it.

anyway, all posts before now should be considered archived. im too lazy to delete or remake. 

character changes below the cut:

Goes exclusively by Charlie or other nicknames, not Kyril. He hasn’t made that identity yet.

31-ish instead of 40.

Independent with heavy Sabbat ties through his (real) sire. No more bootlicking.

Significantly less powerful ability wise, but learning. Not great at fleshcrafting yet.

No-contact with his family. No formal coterie as of the moment.

Does NOT live in a church anymore. Not sure what his current living situation will be like. Maybe lives out of his car.

This isn’t new but I feel like it’ll come up more now: Charlie has two figures he considers his ‘sires’. One who actually turned him, and one who handled most of the stereotypical sire responsibilities. He’ll talk about them interchangeably without ever bothering to clarify that there’s two of them, or who he’s talking about. 

[miyalove]

⋆｡˚⁀➷ WRAPPED UP.

⤷ pairing. ceo!kuroo tetsuro x (female) secretary!reader

⤷ genre. fluff, smut, office au, friends with benefits au

⤷ warnings. swearing, taboo relationship, the use of princess as a nickname, possessiveness, messy sex, rough sex, begging, brief mentions of degradation, ass slapping, ass groping, teasing, (unexpected) sir kink, manhandling, dom!kuroo, sub!reader, power play, spitting, consumption of another person’s spit, lingerie, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please be safe, kids), *unedited

⤷ note. this might be one of the dirtiest things i have EVER written... so i hope you enjoy! and of course, happy valentines day ♡

1.6k | what's a better valentine’s day gift for your boss than yourself?

the relationship you and kuroo have is a bit taboo. the secretary and the ceo. with the way you sway your hips with a little more emphasize when you leave his office, the way you laugh at all his jokes, the way your body dip downs (ass in the air looking absolutely perfect) to grab at fallen papers. of course, something was going to happen. you were practically betting on it. 

but of course, it takes two to start the devil’s conga line.

it was kuroo who wanted you to stay later than usual. only you and him in his big office space and yet he urged you to stay, big hands rubbing at the inside of your thighs. it was him who insisted on how sexy you looked in the middle of meetings; your hair neatly tucked behind your ears, lips pouted and a fire behind your eyes that would make any man weak. it was kuroo that guided you to his desk, smile bright and eyes glowing with mischief because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. you can’t complain though, you want it too. 

he grabs at your waist turning you around so your thighs are firmly pressed against his desk. the lace you have on perfectly shapes your body. it presses at your delicate skin, digging and reaching into all the places kuroo wishes he could touch. he swears he could stare at you all day like this; bent over, dripping pussy on display just for him.

this was different though.

no matter how many times you walked in his office with your alluring eyes. kuroo prided himself on being professional. there was a natural attraction between the two of you, that much is obvious, but for the sake of his company, kuroo never made a move. the feeling of belittlement against you for ‘sleeping your way up’ would make him stay awake at night with guilt. however, tonight things were different. maybe it was the fact that this was your first valentines together or maybe fate just has a really niche sense of humor, but whatever the case; you’re still sopping wet and begging to be fucked.

his hands roam your body. he moves slowly, studying every curve and dip like you’re the latest from leonardo de vinci. ah yes, the redness from when i smacked her ass contrast perfectly to the color of her eyes. you’re beautiful. he desperately craves to say it but the words die on his tongue before he can speak. instead, he lets his actions talk.

“it’s too bad these have to go, princess.” a single finger traces your lace cladded entrance. the action alone has you whimpering. “i’ll buy you another set though.” you feel him shift from behind, body leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the small of your back. 

one of his hands snake up to your neck, yanking at the roots of your tresses. the force makes you gasp. a mixture of pain, shock, and pleasure rushes through you. your head whips back in an uncomfortable position, but you’re able to see kuroo’s perfectly sculptured face, so really you have no complaints. “how do you feel about red?” 

the sound of fabric ripping in half has you concern, at first. but kuroo tetsuro, for as long as you’ve known him has been a no bullshit kind of man. he teases and jokes but when it comes down to business, he’s a cutthroat beast. so it makes sense for him to move on as fast as he came.

there’s no time for you to wonder in astonishment at how he throws your (now useless) panties across his office. he’s already pulling out his cock and sinking into you until his body presses right against your back. naturally, your lips part into a pout that’s wrapped around a wanton moan. the stretch is sensational and the burn evens out the euphoria. he feels you up so well. you can feel his cock rub up against your walls, reaching spots within you that have never been touched by anyone else before. you understand now why your boss is no play and all business. when kuroo needs to, he’s not afraid to get down and dirty just like right now.

“this cunt was made for me.” is what he purrs into your ear. it’s embarrassing how much that affects you. the mere idea of being his has you clenching around his huge cock. his free hand rubs at your back, grabbing at the supple flesh on your ass. you can feel his nails dig into you, the coldness from his rings slightly soothing the pain.

“this ass was made for me too.” and to further cement his claim, he delivers a particularly hard thrust at the same time he smacks at your cheeks. the movement makes you fly forward, papers and other (probably very important things) slide off the top of his desk, but you don’t have time to care. not when the man of your dreams is fucking you so good. you’ll worry about the crumpled up project approval papers later. 

“god, and that mouth.” he shifts to the side. the pressure on your head heightens while he pulls at your ends. your neck feels stiff and his thrust begin to shallow. his ring cladded fingers draw at your jaw, thumb playing with the entrance of your mouth. 

“this pretty little mouth.” his lips brush against your own. his breath fans across your face. he’s so close to kissing you in fact if you moved just an inch closer you would– a fat glob of spit cuts you off. the sudden action made you flinch at first but kuroo made it very clear you could tell him to stop at anytime. his saliva comes down from his long tongue and slots within your mouth perfectly. 

he clamps your jaw shut and you have no choice but to swallow him whole. “good girl, just like that.” he coaxes you while petting at your crown. when you finally open your mouth and all of him is gone, kuroo swears he could cum right then and there. 

“you’re so fucking sexy. holy shit.” his shallow thrust began to get more punctuated now. you can’t hear anything besides the slapping of skin-on-skin contact. you don’t hear kuroo’s phone ringing for the third time. you don’t hear the bustling street life just below tetsuro’s flamboyant row of glass windows. all you can focus on is the intense pleasure that pumps through your veins. it makes you see stars with every thrust, makes your legs shake with every murmur of pretty girl. the white hot coil within you is thinning. it’s about to snap, you can feel it.

“te– tetsuro, please?”

“please, what, princess?” his voice is strained. he’s close too. 

“please, can i come, sir?”

he can’t believe it. he must have died in the middle of the day and ended up in some kind of sex heaven with you as the starring role (not that he’s complaining). he has the a fantastic view of your ass bouncing, you swallow him down like the pretty slut you are, and you respond perfectly with every little touch, every little action. you’re perfect is what he concludes.

“fuck, yes.” his fingers dig into your sides. his grip is like a vice on your skin as he shoves himself deeper within you. “cum for me, princess.” 

you feel his dick twitch and seconds later he’s cummings with a shaky sigh. you’re finally able to let go, you come at around the same time, milking his cock for every last drop. kuroo takes it upon himself to fuck you through your orgasm, a little slower this time, but it still has you breaking down. 

he remembers the way you sauntered into his office, skirt a little too short and eyes practically begging for him. you must have known something was going to happen. there’s no way you just wear pretty pink lace to your everyday job. no, today was a special day for you and apparently for him too. when things finally get too much, kuroo tucks his softened cock back into his pants.

you’re hair is messy. it’s matted from all the sweat and tangled from all the times kuroo raked through your locks and pulled. your chest rises and falls quickly and your eyes are closed trying to concentrate. the blissful veil of sex is finally settling and yet you still look as gorgeous as ever. he’s left there staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. like he wouldn’t mind waking up everyday to your face weather you’re smiling up at him or snoring up a storm. 

when you shift to hop of the desk is when he finally makes a move. he grabs onto your waist, trying his hardest to steady himself so you’re able to balance too. your feet hit the floor and your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment. they wobble under your weight. you can’t help but laugh. it’s a sweet, melodious tone that’s a little scratchy from your... previous actions, but still, he thinks it fits.

“what’s gotten you so giggly?” he guides you to one of his plush office chairs. as you walk, your body remains flesh against his.

“i just–,” your hues lock onto kuroo’s dark ones. “i wouldn’t mind if we did this again, yanno?” 

he smiles down at you watching while you readjust your skirt back over your legs. you bend forward with you’re ass in the air. you must be doing it on purpose, he knows with the way you comically wiggle your hips. and he nods, “yes, i wouldn’t mind that either.”

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 7

A/N- I'm back! At least I think I am 😂 I wrote this while I was struggling with writer's block so I don't think it's great but the next chapter I'm working on I feel back to the old me 🥳🤞

Summary- Are your lies finally going to catch up to you?

Word count- 2.8K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader x Liam Hems

Warnings- Mature themes, cheating, swearing, smut

Strictly 18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 2nd Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

The Destructive Secret Masterlist <

The guy turned to leave before looking back over his shoulder at the door, his hand on the door handle.

"If it makes any difference I would choose you over your brother any day." He winked as he left the room.

"What the actual fuck." You shout, storming out of the bathroom in a huff. "There's no way he's gunna stay quiet, it'll be all over the press come tomorrow." You paced the room, your heart beating fast as the adrenaline rushed through you. This was it, this was how it was all going to end. Liam would know as soon as he saw the headlines, all those late night and weekend conferences at the same time as Chris was conveniently away with work.

"To be fair, he does have good taste in men." Chris' usual nonchalance annoyed you, how come he could stay so calm? Why did he make you sound like a crazy person for actually worrying about what might happen.

"It's really not funny Chris, do you want our business known by strangers before we even have chance to speak to Liam and your Mom Chris, she's going to hate me." You feel the warm tears dripping down your cheeks before you even register you're crying. The thought of their mom hating you upsets you more than the thought of Liam hating you. Cathy, their mom was like your own mother, from day one she'd taken you under her wing.

"My Mom would love you no matter what, you know she thinks of you as her own daughter. It's me she's going to blame, Liam's her baby." 

"Yeah you're probably right but still what are we gunna do?" 

"Let's relax babe, you don't know what's going to happen and you can't change it if it does happen so what's the use in worrying about it. Come here."

"You piss me off Chris, you're so laid back. This isn't something you can just sweep under the carpet. It's serious." You needed to take your anger out on him, to let it all out so you could feel better. The four walls of the hotel room were becoming claustrophobic, you wish you could just put your headphones on and just run for a while to clear your head, that's what you usually did.

"I know it is but what can we do? I've done everything we can do, now it's out of our hands. We'll work it out tomorrow, can we enjoy our last night together without all the serious talk?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that sweet, goofy smile of his that has your heart melting.

"You piss me off even more when you look at me like that. I can't stay mad at you and how could I say no to that?" You put your arms around his back, loving the way his height makes you feel so small and safe. He wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and holding you close.

"That's why I love you yanno." 

"Why?" You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your neck stretching to reach his height.

"Because you never say no." He laughs, a real laugh that you can feel on his toned stomach, shaking against you. It was the best feeling hearing him laugh like that, it'd been so long since you'd heard him laugh. Your life being full of a lot of drama and upset recently that you were appreciative of the little time you had left together.

"Maybe I should start then." You pout pretending to sulk.

"No way, I love how easy you are." He picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, looking down on him for once. You punch him lightly on his shoulder, still pouting. "Ok, ok I'll stop teasing. You know why I love you though." 

"Tell me." 

He sits down on the end of the bed with you still in his arms, resting on his great big, thick thighs. He moves your hair behind your ears so he can see your face, studying it carefully with a look of adoration in his eyes.

"I love you because you're absolutely drop dead gorgeous, I mean the first time I met you, you literally knocked the air from my lungs. I've been obsessed with you ever since." He shuffles slightly beneath you, getting himself comfy. "This would never have happened with just anyone, I'm not a dick that goes around sleeping with his brothers girls." You give him a questioning look, your eyebrows furrowing. "Seriously, it took fucking everything in me to try and resist you. I'd never felt that before, never been one of them that wants what they can't have. Until I met you. Fuck me you were an absolute bombshell." You frown at him. "Are, still are a bombshell, don't look at me like that." He laughs.

"Tell me more." You whisper, feeling yourself tear up at his revelations as you run your hand through his hair, his eyes closing as you do.

"Am I stroking your ego?" He smiles slyly. "Do you remember the first time you met me?" 

"Of course I do, me and Liam had already been together a year but you'd been in Australia. I was eighteen, young and dumb..."

"And full of..." 

"Do not even finish that sentence, you're ruining the moment." He laughs at you but quickly gets back to being serious.

"You were eighteen and ridiculously mature for your age, I was twenty six and still acted like a teenager. I remember you walking in in that little denim skirt and tank top, smiling at me with that beautiful smile. The first thing I noticed was your eyes, the way they lit up when you smiled. You had me right at that moment, I was smitten. Then you introduced yourself as Liam's girlfriend and my heart sank." 

"I can't believe you remembered what i was wearing, it was twelve years ago." You kiss his forehead, holding his face in your hands. So glad you had the opportunity to talk like this, knowing all this made you know you hadn't made a mistake. "I was so nervous walking up to you, I'd only ever seen you on photos and crushing on you when you were in home and away. Then you're there in front of me looking sexy as hell and I knew I had to make a good impression."

"Little did you know, five years later I'd be bending you over that table and giving you everything you'd been searching for?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk.

"No, dick! Little did I know you'd sweep me off my feet and make me question everything I ever knew." 

"I am a dick but that's why you love me isn't it?"

"Your ego definitely doesn't need stroking. I fell in love with Liam when I was still a girl and I fell in love with you when I was a woman. People change, needs change and..." 

"And I give you everything you need." His hand travelled to your ass pulling you into him, pressing against his growing erection.

"You do, you need to work on your arrogance though." You laugh. "But seriously I'm done with all this now, we can't go on like this anymore. I want all of you, all of the time."

"So you've made your decision." His lips part, his head resting against your forehead.

"Was there ever any doubt?" You question, running your finger over his lip and grinding against him subtly making him groan.

"Fuck Y/N, I fucking love you so much it's crazy." He says through gritted teeth, holding the small of your back as you raise your hips, your face contorting with need. "What would you do if I asked you to marry me?" His hand travelled down the back of your shorts, cupping your ass in his hands.

"What do you think?" You tease, taking his bottom lip in your teeth and pulling gently.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking." His face was set seriously, he wasn't joking, he wanted to marry you.

"Of course I'd say yes, once we'd dealt with everything." You smile watching his face light up.

"You're going to be Mrs Hemsworth and mine, not Liam's. I can't fucking wait." He picks you up, gripping your ass making you squeel before planting you back on the bed on your back.

Leaning over you, his palm caressing your stomach, kneeding your breasts with his long fingers. His erection poking into your clothed heat.

"You're so fucking perfect, are you ready to cause destruction?" 

"Like now, in bed or?..." 

"You know what I mean." He laughs, reaching down to attach his lips to your neck, sucking gently.

"If it means I get you then yeah, I'm ready." 

"Right answer. You've made me the happiest fucking man in the world yanno?" His hand moves under your top, pushing it up to your chin as his lips finally meet yours. Kissing you deeply with everything he's got, your body rising from the bed to meet his.

"I think... I can... Make you even happier." You say between kisses, pushing down his boxers, your nails scratching his skin gently as you do. 

He rests on one elbow watching you free his cock from its barrier. You cup his balls in your hand, stroking along the length of his cock with the other. He groans, pushing himself into your hands.

"I'll be happier once I'm buried inside this perfect pussy." He kneels between your legs, pulling your panties off before hovering back over you.

"Go slow baby, I want to feel everything." You whisper.

"Fuck, I can't guarantee how long I'll last." He moans, lining himself up and slipping in making you both moan as his cock stretches your walls perfectly.

He rests on his elbows, holding your face in his hands as he gently thrusts into you, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him in further, deeper. Hitting your spot with the curl of his hips, agonisingly slowly. You look into each others eyes, his forehead resting against yours. Tears in your eyes from the intense intamacy.

"I love you Y/N." He declares gruffly, his voice deep with lust.

"I love you too." You whimper.

Moaning everytime his thighs connected with yours, flesh slapping together, bringing your hips up to meet him. Him grunting with every thrust, your sex noises filling the otherwise silent room. The sound like a symphony to your ears, turning you on even more to hear his exclamations of ecstacy.

"It's always been you Chris." You whisper, making his pace become sloppy, losing his composure and restraint at your words. You can see it on his face as it twists, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Come for me baby." He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his body goes rigid.

"Ah fuck." He brings you over the edge with the last of his powerful thrusts, your legs shaking around him, the feeling of satisfaction melting through your body simultaneously. A proud look on his face as you both come together and he falls limply onto your sweat laced body.

You stay like that for a while, both enjoying the moment, his cock still twitching inside of you. The heaviness of his body burying you into the mattress but you don't complain.

You don't want him to move, you want to memorise the feel of his heaviness and how his cock feels inside of you. How his rough face feels against your smooth skin, his hair tickling under your chin. You trace the muscles on his back, the defined shoulders and lean waist. Your hands gripping his tight, round ass and you close your eyes, remembering every dip and ripple, dreading the thought of being without him in your arms for at least another couple of weeks.

"I don't know how I'm going to watch you walk away tomorrow." He rolls on to his side, pulling you into him. "I think that's the hardest thing to deal with out of everything."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers brushing against his tight pecs. "You know we've been doing this for nearly 6 years now and I don't think I've ever felt as close to you as I do now. It's going to be even harder for me to leave this time." 

"I don't even want to think about it but we only have hours left together, what's our plan?" 

"You mean when and how do we tell Liam?" You ask sitting cross legged in the bed, reality kicking back in. You have to go home to Liam and leave Chris all over again, back to the lies and sneaking about.

"That and when am I going to be able to see you again? I don't want to wait as long as last time, you know how crazy i start getting when I don't see you." 

"We've got your cousin's wedding next week. I'll see you there." You risk a glance at him, pain set on his face.

"You'll see me but you'll be arm in arm with Liam and I'll be alone again." 

"How about once the weddings over and done with, we can tell Liam about us?" You watch his face change, like a little boy.

"A week? I can do that, I think. But I'm not going to the wedding alone." 

"What do you mean? A date? With who?" Panic laced in your voice.

"I don't know but I'm sure I won't be short of options." 

"Are you fucking with me? Liam thinks you're dating a married woman, where you going to find one of those?" 

"I don't know but I'm not turning up to a family party on my own again, my aunties can be fucking brutal." 

"Well don't expect to playing all happy families and me being all nice." You sulk.

"Are you jealous?" 

"Yeah, duhh."

"Come here." He pulls you into arms wrapping his legs around yours. Comfortable silence drifting over you both as he strokes your hair and you fall asleep in his arms.

***********

You wake up in the morning smiling, then remembering what day it is and that you have to leave to go back to boring reality and your smile fades. Chris stirring beside you, his muscly arm resting over your stomach, locking you in place.

"Chris, wake up." You whisper in his ear, admiring his sleepy, perfect face. "It's 9.30 we've gotta check out at 10." He makes an unrecognisable sound of exasperation, his eyes opening, puffy with sleep or lack of in this case.

"Aww man, can't we just stay in bed a little longer, I don't wanna let you go." 

"You need to go check out first so we don't leave the hotel at the same time." 

"Fuck sake. Back to reality it is then." He says all hint of jokiness gone from his tone as he sits up and rubs his eyes. 

"I'm afraid so, I need to go grab my things. Text me when you've left please." 

"Wow! I feel used, do I not even get a kiss before you run out on me?" 

"I was just dealing with the business before I dealt with the pleasure, like I'd just leave without giving you a kiss." You threw yourself on him, wrapping your legs around him as he leant against the headboard. Taking his lips in yours, open mouthed kisses that left you both breathless.

*****

You packed up the couple of things you'd actually taken out of your pull along suitcase, you'd spent most of the weekend naked or slobbing about in Chris' t-shirts so all your clothes were still folded and packed.

You were anxious about going home to Liam and having to pretend again, having to try and not slip up about where you'd actually been. You literally had to go through possible conversations in your mind, conjuring up imagined answers to Liam's possible questions so you didn't get caught out. It was hard work.

Then you got the text from Chris telling you he was out of the hotel and on the road back home, followed by how much of a good weekend he'd had and how much he loves you.

You couldn't help having a spring to your step as you walked through the lobby, a weekend full of love making and reminiscing would have that effect on anyone.

After you'd checked out, the anxiety set in, like stepping out of this hotel would be like stepping in to an alternate universe. A universe that wasn't simple and easy like it had been this weekend but stepping through those revolving doors would mean that will all end. This safe feeling of being alone, away from prying eyes would end as soon as you stepped foot outside and it did, a ominous feeling sweeping over you, goosebumps covering your flesh. Maybe you conjured up the feeling in your own mind, manifesting it into existence but you couldn't shake it.

A feeling of being watched, was it your imagination or not? You didn't know, all you knew was how much you wanted to get out of public and back home. As you stood in front of the hotel, picking up your suitcase to carry it down the stairs, something caught your eye. A flash. And then another flash coming from your peripheral.

[star-ocean-peahen]

OOH OOH your characters are very pretty and gorgeous i would like to know more about them plz when you have the time

EE i saw the ask in my notifications and got very excited because I knew i was getting a Treat

*ahem*

thank you

actually you know what I have time I WILL CONTINUE

part 1 part 2 part 3

I left off when Link, Shei, and Impa escape the castle with Ganon surging it behind them. Right. Got it.

I haven't completely decided what the main "quest" motivation for the first half of the game will be. Working idea is that Shei has this cute little bucket list of all the places he wants to see that he heard about at his dad's tavern (just imagine a little bright-eyed Shei listening to a wandering traveler describing their hometown 🥺). The group would travel to different places and at each place Ganon would send an agent of his to corrupt it/wreak havoc/make dungeons etc. This feels a bit weak to me though because after the first two or so SOMEBODY would catch on that they're the ones bringing Ganon's armies to the places they're going. And yanno a bucket list is kinda less in importance than an evil overlord taking over the kingdom.

Unless.....he did it sneakily? Like maybe they don't know a lot about Ganon or what he does and just think it's bad luck that every place they go has an infestation of evil?

I dunno. The next point would make it pretty obvious that Ganon's behind things.......

......because now I get to introduce Stella!

Working idea is that when Ganon rose he sent a bunch of monsters out to find the hero and goddess-descendant. One of those was a Stalfos, who happened to be the first to catch up to them.

I'm still not sure how they get her on their side (because the only reason she exists is because I had a vivid dream where I befriended a skeleton that was an agent of evil sent to kill me 😅) but they do and she gets an arc about learning how to be human.

They call her Stella because 1. she saw the stars and thought they were really cool and 2. its a pun. Stel-la? Stal-la?

She can remove her bones and move them remotely to solve puzzles. Like [SUPER rudimentary] you can't reach a switch, so you chuck her forearm up there and tada

She also contributes in combat with the standard stalfos sword and shield (like the ones from Skyward Sword). She kicks ASS.

As the representation of self-expression and determination, she accumulates accessories over the course of the first half of the game. Anything that will stay on a skeleton she likes. Shei started it by giving her a bright blue ribbon and telling her she looked pretty, which was a New Concept. She wears a blue bow on the top of her head from then on (it's adorable).

So yeah. Random skeleton joins the group (I still have some more fleshing out to do with that) and learns how to be alive (something something everyone in this group is recalled to life in one way or another and has to learn to live again).

I'll save the midpoint of the game for another post. I'm really excited for that one!

[heyitsyn]

Nekoma!Manager!Male!Reader

a/n: never written male reader before but this was a funny request and i really do see the irony in this

anon request:  

absolutely LOVED your seijoh hcs! you said you wanted to do the other schools so i thought, how about nekoma but with a MALE manager bc it would be so ironic to have a male god as their manager rather than a goddess that they always talked about!! thank youuuuuuu!!!!!!!

yall the nekoma fanchant is literally stuck in my head

hehe uwu lets step on the pedal

ong jesus take the wheel pls

so basically,,,

being the nekoma manager is a MESS

lets say youre a second year and was only the manager bc you were begged into taking the job

like wouldnt leave you alone and pestered you 25/8, screaming about needing their own god manager

also just because, you are fairly popular and you have your own fanclub of girls in nekoma and they thought it would give them more exposure and more chances w girls :’)

tora was actually the first who came up to you and begged you to be their manager during class one day bc they are in need of one but they arent allowed to have a girl manager so he turned to having a handsome male

‘I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY IT HAS TO BE A BOY’

‘so you wont be all over him abd be distracted w showing off’

‘WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION MY SE-’

‘tora, please’

initially, you refused bc you just couldnt be bothered to be part of a club where you basically babysit a bunch of overgrown children

but kenma, your childhood friend, was the team’s last attempt to get you in since kuroo mentioned that he was the only one you listened to

‘kenma, babie, i love you, but i am your friend, not your nanny. so unless i am paid, i will not waste my time taking care of of all of you. especially that chicken head’

‘y/n, yaku is on his last leg here. we really need a manager and we need it fast’

‘you went for years without one so why do you need it?’

‘we’re scared that nekomata would just drop dead any minute now’

‘yanno? im surprised hes even still alive with yall’

‘....... ill show your fangirls that picture of you when we were 5 when-’

‘okay, kenma. rude about the blackmail but okay. dont expect me to be the maid or anything’

nope, you were actually the maid

and the cook

and the nanny

and the laundry person

the everything

it baffles you that kuroo is about to graduate next year yet he still doesnt know the difference between fabric softener and detergent

the amount of times you sent him to pick up more and only to send him back when he ended up buying 2 softeners or 2 detergents

‘they all look the same!’

‘kuroo tetsuro cAN yOu NoT rEAd?!’

ngl i still mix them up sometimes

during matches, youre basically their mother, their nanny, and nekomata’s notetaker, and their personal cheerleader

naoi, the other coach guy, and coach nekomata has adopted you as a son bc of how hard you work and the less the burden is on them

like your notes about their playing percentages really works and helps them and added with the chores you do for the team?

godsend

also, lets put your popularity in here

you dress with a white shirt and zip up your red nekoma jacket with your red sweatpants so you look like one of the players, right?

but how come every time they have practice, youre the only one with the fangirls in the bleachers?

youre literally wearing the same thing as them yet youre the only one who gets looked at?!

even kuroo, who was quite good looking, doesnt have that many girls pining after him yet you, resident anti-tryhard, seems to get the female population to fall for you just by doing the simplest things like breathing

youd be doing normal things like using your whistle as you hold a clipboard and girls would be screeching at you 

‘omg m/n is so hot!’

‘hes just !!!! uuggghhhh’

‘siri how to be a whistle?’

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today

tora complains about it all the time bc first, they cant have a beautiful manager, two, they have a pretty boy who’s taking the attention away

‘SO NOT FAIR! M/N, TURN UGLY!’

you bonk him on the head in anger and threaten to quit all the time

‘say that again and you’ll be filling your own water bottles tomorrow’

but in truth though, the guys really do appreciate you and everything you do

they know that you balance them with your personal life and classes and still make time to do their laundry and make them food

so they have started easing off the burden and weight off of your shoulders

at first, you were very suspicious when they told you that they already filled their water bottles

‘huh? i didnt think you even knew where the water fountain was’

‘wym weve been doing this for years’

-kuroo

then, you heard kuroo tell the others to put their sweaty jerseys in the basket in the corner of the room and for the last person to carry it to the laundromat

‘um, sir, we dont want to have another pink jersey disaster again’

you stopped inuoka from lugging the basket but he shook his head and gave you a wide grin

‘nope, m/n-senpai! i’ll carry it for you! i’m strong, see?’

he flexed his right arm muscle while holding the basket with one hand but it was too heavy so it fell to the ground, spilling out all the practice jerseys

you sighed before bending down to pick them up and babie inuoka’s eyes watered, thinking you were mad at him

‘gomen, senpai’

he whispered but you looked up at him from your position

his watery eyes made you frantically stand up and wipe his tears with the pads of your thumbs

‘inu-kun, why are you crying? you said you were strong right? dont cry over silly things, okay?’

he nodded and you were still confused as to why he was so emotional but you patted his fluffy hair 

‘now cmon, lets go take these to the shop’

unbeknownst to you, the team was actually seething from behind the wall

naturally, as a,,, manager,, you became their,,, energy?? 

like the slightest affections from you made their health bar increase tenfold and they didnt necessarily have any intentions towards you

you were like,,, their own,,,, happy drug?? like a human seratonin??

just the fact that they had someone like you to fall back on and give them love when they lost or something

it was comforting

usually it was just the team’s responsibility to throw away their own sadness and comfort each other

but with you,,,

they could easily cry with no fear and you would comfort them until they didnt need to be comforted anymore

eventually, they ended up straight out competing against each other on who would get the most affection

clearly, inuoka used his first year card and everyone knew you were soft for your kouhais

like you would just grab them and hug them because of how cute they were

uwu especially lev?! 

he may be a giant but hes just a really REALLY REALLY BIG CAT

;)

LEV LIVES TO HUG YOU

like the mans is beanstalk level of height and despite the age difference, he just picks you up and cuddles you and youre just like ‘okay, let it out babie’

DKSFJSLD ANYWAYS

you are always a hot topic w all the students in nekoma and even some in other schools

like during training camp, bro you making everyone question their sexuality

omg akaashi and you are probably the prettiest people there and can i just say how everyone cant focus on a practice match bc youd be laughing together or something and they havent heard anything so beautiful??

and the kitties get really defensive over you and hiss at anyone who even tries to approach you

hiss hiss

DKJFSLKDFJDWHAT IF EVERYONE IN THE TEAM IS BI

OMG WHAT

like the little touches from you make them so red and confident gays like kuroo and bokuto call you out on them and tease you 

while the quiet ones like akaashi and kenma are just blushing and stutter and you tease them instead?

*inhale* BOI *exhale*

the uke and seme dynamic is real on this one

however, there are times when the turned tables

there was that one day that you were seriously questioning if bokuto wore leggings or just really high knee pads and you cornered him after baths to just figure it out

like our poor confident boi turned to a shy babie and shrunk against the wall, covering his red face

‘y-y/n-kun’

‘bo-san, i just want to know’

DKFSJLKDFJFJSDKIM DYING OVER HERE LIKE PLEASE I DONT OWN Y/N

after seeing the smidge of skin at the top of the kneepad, you nodded and brushed your fingertips over the flesh

‘hmm~ so i was right~’

FROM THEN ON POOR BABIE OWL COULDNT LOOK AT YOU THE SAME!!!!!!

it worried everyone so much when bokuto would glance at you in the sidelines and he would competely miss akaashi’s set bc his eyes would focus on you rather than the ball

like he absolutely couldnt take his eyes off of you and when you do turn to meet his eyes, he shrinks back and looks away, completely missing your amused smirk

now, your kitties werent happy about that

theyre very protective of you and they felt that this owl could snatch you right up and fly away

and kuroo, being the captain and the head of the familia, took it upon himself and dragged you to the back of the gym while the others were practicing

kurat pushed you against the wall and basically kabedonned you

KUROO IS LIKE 6′2 OR 190 CM I CANT

‘you seem close with bokuto, l/n. almost, too,, close’

an amused smirk etched itself on your lips and you pressed a hand on his chest

‘oya~? captain-san, am i being punished?’

SFDKLFSJKLDFJL SIR Y/N IS SUPPOSED TO RADIATE SEME ENERGY BUT HE ISNT AND I CANNOT-

ofc he was taken aback by your flirty attitude but he smirked and softly brushed away your bangs that slightly covered your eyes

‘hmm~~ depends, y/n-kun. are you going to be a good kitty and stay with the clowder? or are you going to stay with those pesky chickens~?’

DKFLSJDKFJSL BRO DID YOU KNOW A GROUP OF CATS IS CALLED A CLOWDER?! I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT BUT I HAVE A FEELING KUROO WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT BC HE BIG BRAIN

you chuckled and gently wrapped your arms around his shoulders

but your hand grabbed the hair at the back of his head and harshly pulled him to be closer to you

your eyes blinked innocently but your sharp teeth were shown from your malicious grin

‘ive always been a bad kitty, captain. so i dont care what you say because you cant tell me what to do~’

👀👀👀👀

imagine what happens next bc i cant write something unholy

anyways

so you learned that tetsu CAN in fact tell you what to do and you avoided everyone else which caused them to wonder but one look at your neck

well,,,,,

you got attacked by a cat 

a cat named tetsu

SKDFLJSDKFJSLKUROO IS THE ONLY SEME YOU CLASH WITH

THE OTHERS ARE ALL UKE

EVEN BEEFY BUFF CAKE BOI BO

but you toned it down to not be attacked again

ngl the whole team was all jealous and they even whined to kuroo about it

‘thats not fair!!!!’

‘stop abusing your role as captain!!!!’

they hated the fact that kuroo got you first so they all rally over to keep you away from him

like baby kenma would nudge you over and bring him to sit next to you, saying he needs you to help him with a certain level

‘kenny, im not sure how to play this game’

‘hmm,,,, youre a quick learner, y/n, and youre really quick with your fingers so you could pass to the next level’

*insert lenny face*

‘oya? and you would know how, kenny?’

and baby kenny would fluster a little before glomping to your side and burying his face into your shoulder to hide away

OR

the first years would absolutely use their kouhai priviledges and bring you over to help them with ‘homework’

‘you guys realize i passed because kuroo would beat me into studying right?’

‘but senpai! you mustve learned a thing or two in your classes!’

‘bold of you to assume i was even awake in my classes’

but they still make you spend hours trying to help them which turn into just messing around 

KSDLFJSDKFJD MOVIE NIGHTS YOU GUYS THATS IT!!

there isnt really a single calm moment in your guys’ practice

poor you have already started seeing lot of gray hairs

you literally decline every single confession just because youre too busy for a date and you cant handle having to take care of another person

its like youre dating the whole team!!

soon the entire school have just accepted the fact that you are just simply not in the market anymore just because you joined the club

not because youre actually taken by a girlfriend but youre taken by a bunch of teenage males

imagine how that works out

anyways

youre not really the best volleyball player out there but you know a thing or two

well,,, its more like your stamina doesnt allow you to play long bc a single lap literally destroys your lungs

but you still know when yaku complains about having a shaky receive

‘oh, momo-senpai, youre bending your knees too low so gravity is pushing down on your-’

ugh chemistry i hate it

despite your lack of athletic or physical skills, they still appreciate you for your keen eyes, your caring nature, and your overall looks that give them motivation to play harder to impress you personality :)

all the boys love you

and tbh

you love your boys too

even though it was a blackmail caused event,

you still would’ve joined otherwise

this is kinda short but its going to be longer if i find some plots or somebody asks for a plotline that i can write about for a long time

anyways

byeeeee :)))))

a/n: this isnt exactly the best manager one ive written but ill probably find a good prompt for this or again as stated ^^ someone sends in an ask for it and ill write a story for our favorite male manager :’D

[internalsealpanic]

I Will be Your Tim Drake for Tonight (3) (Jason Todd/ Reader)

Summary:  Preferring to do anything but your physics project, you decide to accepts Tim’s proposal. It’s simple. He does your project, you try to figure out whether Jason Sionis is criminal. Easy, right?

masterlist

A/n: This takes place in a world where Jason is adopted by Black Mask. Inspired by Building Interest by Zoeleo.The events and characterization in this story are very heavily based on Zoeleo's Long Term Investment series. It is fantastic and I really highly recommend all of her fics.

a/n: For clarification, Reader does have psychic powers but it only lets her sense people's emotions physically. No mind-reading. Her power is more like an overactive sense of empathy which may force her to dissociate into someone else.

There will be violence and mentions of alcoholism (used as coping mechanism for physical pain) and chronic pain.  

As for the additional warning, an animal is harmed but it is barely described. I could not bring myself to actual describe it but the aftermath is described.

I also just converted this from an OC so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Without further a do:

Your stomach drops.

Fuck.

Of course, Damian just had to be the one to pick up.

"Hey baby bro, could you pass the phone to dad?"

"I'm sorry who is this?"

This little shit.

"You're such a kidder! Dami, it's me, Tim. "

“Ah yes, Drake-” You can hear Tim choke in the background. “What do you want?”

“Please Dami just pass the phone to dad, I- I really need to talk to him”

“Very well,”

“Tim?” The voice sounded like Bruce’s but the intonation was all wrong. The voice changer Tim and Babs were working on seems to have made progress.

“Hey dad, I- uh. I might have gotten kidnapped.”

Tim makes another choking noise. “Might have?”

“I was at the party. I think I had around 13 drinks. 13 ! Can you believe it? I felt like a right sailor after that, like the harbor workers, y’know? Anyway, I was taking a smoke-”

“Enough!” The large man roared, snatching the phone from you. “Send us $100 million by tomorrow or your kid’ll be shark bait!” Who says that anymore?

“Of course! Of course! I’ll have the money sometime this evening. Please don’t hurt him.”

Tim, God bless him, does not laugh. Tim’s acting needs some work but he sure does know how to act worried.

The line dies and they tie you back up to the post.

“What the hell?!”

“We have to make sure you don’t just runoff.” The large man says tightening your bonds. Truthfully, you’ve felt far worse. After all, corsets exist. However, this was still a close second.  

“Do I look like I could outrun a snail?”

“He’s got a point boss. He looks like he hasn’t even seen the sun in ages.”

This, you decide, is true for Tim. When was the last time he went out before dark? Maybe he got sunlight when he stayed over at Eddie’s place.

The large man grabs Jason by the collar and throws him to his men.

The 3 men kick and curse at him. They mock him and beat him down. They wail on him with their fists, their steel-toed shoes, and sometimes brick. Jason takes it all with a crooked grin and a sharp tongue. You watched in awe. Even on the floor, Jason looked sturdy, ferocious, and indomitable.

"They all break, sweet girl."

Jason is on a tiled floor. No, he should be on concrete. His blood is on the tile. They’re hitting him. They’re hitting him with a bat. No. They aren’t supposed to be holding a bat. They were kicking him but now they’re holding a bat. No, She’s holding a bat. There's supposed to be three of them, three men,  but their forms coalesce into her .  You can hear his ribs cracking. Next are his legs. His legs are always next. Then his arm. She'll break each bone in his arms and his hands.  He’s wheezing. His voice sounds hoarse. His voice is too hoarse. He sounds like he’s been starved and dehydrated for at least a day. They’ve only been here for an hour. That isn’t right. Oh God! Now she had a cleaver in her hands.

No!

No!

He doesn’t need to die. She can’t.

no.

No.

No!  

 The scene crescendos as the tall, dark, sinewy silhouette towering over Jason raises the butcher's knife above her head.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Son?”

The scene of the kitchen fades and the shit-eating grin on Jason melts into view which shifts from amusement to confusion then back to amusement.

You blink seeing his stupid grin far too clearly.

You let a bark of gut-busting laughter out as you strain against the rope. Your brow pinches with concern but based on the scowls you’re receiving they're more focused on the fact that you were laughing like a mad man.  

Jason looks like he’s about to laugh from the absurdity as well when the man in charge picks him up again tossing him into a chair. The other men tie him down binding his wrists and ankles.

"I've had worse." He spits out.

The phone rings again, the dial tone echoing. Jason looks like hell with his face swollen and bruises beginning to bloom on every surface but he still looked like he was 5 seconds from starting a fight.

The large man punches Jason hard in the gut knocking the air out of his lungs as the dial tone cuts off.  “Hear that, Sionis? Your little bitch is pretty soft.”

Oh God, are they serious?

“Who is this? Nevermind. You ok there, sweetheart?” Roman Sionis’ ‘concerned’ voice carries over the line.

They are.

“Nothing I can't handle, daddy.” Jason chuckles with the utmost casualness. You, on the other hand,  instantly want to disinfect your brain. Thankfully, before your mind could wander somewhere it can't return from,  the big man growls into the phone.

“Don't you recognize the voice of the man whose life you've ruined?!”

“You've gotta be more specific than that. I've ruined quite a few lives but I would like to know whose brain I need to put a bullet in.”

“IT'S ME  BRUNO HARDIN!”

“Doesn't ring any bells.” Roman deadpans almost sounding completely disinterested. “Sweetheart, you remember anyone like that?”

“Nope,” Jason replies letting the p pop. It seemed like a strange sort of triumph before it all crashes down with another swift punch to the ribs.

You stare at the strange scene torn between amusement and horror.

“Take this seriously!” Bruno roars.

"I'm taking this about as seriously as it deserves."

A part of you thought 'yeah this is ridiculous enough to warrant nonchalance' while the other part wanted to scream.  On one hand, even you found his identity anticlimactic. Doesn’t he know just how many small-time businesses Roman has ruined? He’d be lucky to get into the top 50. It’s not like he was running a pretty ethical establishment either.  On the other hand, your freaking kid is getting the shit kicked out of him. Emote damn it.

“Jason. Don’t you worry. Daddy’s going to take care of this. Your Uncle D happens to be in town. He’s on his way to pick you up. Love you, baby. See you soon.”

The line dies. Your stomach sinks further somehow. You don’t know if the nausea is due to the fact that the line died, the threat, or the number of times the word ‘daddy’ came up. Who the hell is Uncle D? How is he supposed to help? Your gaze trails to Jason who is now lowering his head to the floor seemingly tired. Maybe that last punch finally drained the fight from him.

“You're all so fucked.” Jason barks out in a fit of laughter. The men around him, jumping from the volume of his voice.  

Bruno grabs Jason by the collar and begins to shake him as if the  “Shut the fuck up you little bitch! Whoever your Uncle D is he's-”

“Deathstroke”

You feel like someone kicked you in the chest. First of all, Uncle D? Really? You guess that there are worse hills to die on. This was somehow weirder than hearing Faust and her siblings call him pops. Second of all, Fuck. You'd never gotten your asshanded to you by Deathstroke but based on how banged up the Titans looked after fighting him this wasn't gonna be pretty.  All you could hope for was that you wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Although, the image of Deathstroke grudgingly letting a kid call him Uncle D lightens your mood a bit.  

Bruno throws Jason on the floor hard enough for his body to bounce. Like Jason earlier, Bruno is radiating murder.

Just run, you thick motherfucker.

You, being the ‘nice’ Wayne kid that you are,  try to tell him as much but sadly that was halted by shattering glass. A flurry of black, orange, and metal crash through the glass and cut through the crowd of men.  

They fire at him, panic making their faces even paler. They hit him, bullets sinking into his flesh, blood splatters but none of it fazes him. He skewers and cuts them down with ease. His swords and suit are liberally decorated with their blood when it’s all done.

He steps over Bruno’s body. From the grunt that comes out, Bruno is still alive. Dumb bastard doesn’t know how to play dead. He’ll die from blood loss anyway.

“Hey, kid-” Deathstroke greets tersely,  picking up Jason’s nearly limp body.  “We’re gonna get you home.” He slings Jason’s arm over his shoulder.

“Wait!”  

Deathstroke stops sounding slightly annoyed.

Jason turns to you, who’s still unhappily tied to a post.  “We gotta get him out.” He rasps.  

“Kid, you’re the only one I’m getting paid to rescue.”  Deathstroke helpfully informs as he carefully adjusts his hold on the struggling young man. You blow out a breath somehow more irritable than scared.  “Just cut me out. I can make my way back just fine.”

“Walk in Gotham, are you stupid?” Jason hisses. The concern bleeding through.

“Which one of us charged at their captors while they were armed?”

Jason scowls at you with a petulant twist in his lips. “Yanno what,  Leave ‘im.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry and yeah I’ll be fine. I know where to avoid. Just please don’t leave me with them” you plead, throwing away any pride you held as you glance at the most likely dead bodies. Deathstroke cuts you out. Your skin feels raw but you’re otherwise unharmed.

You walk out of the warehouse and Dick practically throws himself at you. “Oh thank god, they didn’t shoot you in the head.” He mumbles into your wig.  

"Why would you think they would shoot me in the head?"

Dick pulls back and frowns at you through the domino mask.  “You aren’t exactly the most pleasant-”

“ We were model hostages.” you squawk.

Jason snorts far too loudly to be helpful.

You glare at him but you weren’t about to say fuck off to him while he has one of the world’s deadliest assassins right next to him.

Deathstroke coughs.  “Well if you don’t mind we’ll be taking our leave.”

Dick holding you protectively, glares but says nothing. Maybe he does but you faint before you can hear it.

A/n: Thanks for reading!

[insert-dangan-joke-here]

makoto has a dating life?

 so uh.... while we discussed shuichi x everyone... we did them the same with makoto

five seconds later, we had realized we had given him a dating life throughout high school (aus ver - yr 7-12)

 Makoto enters year 7 (Middle school, basically) and confronts himself about the fact he liked Sayaka for all of Primary and has done nothing for it. He gives himself a smack and asks her out.

They date for like, a month or two before Sayaka breaks up with him be she ‘wants more’. He is pretty beaten up about it.

At the end of that year, there is a party of some kind. There he meets Toko Fukawa, resident outsider looking lonely. He is kind to her and says hello.

At this point, still upset over Sayaka, he feels the need to keep himself distracted with another relationship. He somehow tricks himself into liking Toko to get over Sayaka (rebounds are never good). Toko has done the same because of her unhealthy obsession with Byakuya.

They get together but neither of them are really into it. They don’t hang out at all during the end of year break and a month into year 8, Makoto confesses he wants to break up and Toko is very, very relieved.

They become friends after this. Makoto also happens to be friends with Sakura as well and half-way through year 8, they get together. All things considered, it’s one of Makoto’s healthiest relationships so far.

At the end of year 8 however, things don’t work out. You see, Sakura has realized she is not into guys. At all. She breaks up with Makoto on good terms and they remain pretty close friends. Bonus round: makoto helps wingman Sakura to get with Asahina, as the only thing that seems to scare Sakura (among all things ever) is talking to a girl she likes.

During year 9, Makoto wants to get closer to Byakuya... for some reason (you have 3 guesses why and the first two don’t count) Toko strikes up a friendly rivalry over this and they compete for Byakuya’s attention. This is mostly fleshed out to be a friendly rivalry that is mostly a joke (mostly. We think.) 

However, at the end of the year... Toko ends the rivalry, finally having realised how unhealthy her obbession with Byakuya was. She’s had a bit of self-reflection and realized she wants someone who will actually, yanno, like her. (And who is preferrably a girl, , ,, , ,)

Soon after this, Makoto expects his infactuation with Byakuya to die down, still under the impression that his will to get to know him was light-hearted and almost comedic in nature (just like the nature of the banter between him and Toko.) Oh boy was he wrong. Promptly, he freaks out.

Makoto, during the end of year break, has a big fat bisexual crisis.

As an unhealthy coping mechanism (to fall back into what he already knows, and is ‘safe’), during year 10 he gets back together with Sayaka. He had liked her for a long time and dating her was easy.... right?

During this, Makoto’s friendship with Kyoko starts too bloom. Coincedentally, Sayaka has also striken up an unusual friendship with her, as study buddies (Sayaka is being carried, hard.) Bonus concept: Sayaka gives Kyoko a cute panda keychain as a token of their frienship. While it is not entirely the type of thing Kyoko would own, she puts it on her school bag in appriciation. 

Makoto then begins to nurse a crush on Kyoko, rejoicing in the idea that his bisexual crisis has come to an end. So caught up in the early obsession stage, with Kyoko, Makoto is unaware that his feelings for Byakuya have not subsided, they have just been put on hold.

Feeling guilty for dating Sayaka as a rebound, (combined with the fact that he thinks he has slighty recovered) he then realizes he should break up with her because dating her for safety was a bit of assholish move on his part.

Kyoko also begins to like Makoto near the end of the year and politely asks Sayaka if she is okay with her pursuing Makoto (knowing that they dated last year, but not that they had all that history in both her primary and “middle” school (year seven). Sayaka (hesitantly) says yes.

Sayaka is....bitter over this (hypocritically). She didn’t like him romantically, but she liked his attention; having him there, he was “convenient”.

Kyoko and Makoto get together a little ways into Year 11 and as their relationship progresses, Kyoko’s and Sayaka’s friendship slowly deteriorates

In other news, Sakura and Aoi have been going strong for a few years and Toko has gotten together with Komaru. This only strengthenes Toko’s bond with Makoto, as the whole situation becomes one massive joke. Makoto is honeslty unsure how to feel about Toko dating Komaru, but Toko bullies him for feeling insecure about it (which lightens the mood a bit). This brings them back to their light-hearted banter dynamic they used to have with the Byakuya situation (although this time supporting less toxic behaviours.) Bonus: Makoto often asks how on earth Toko can put up with dating his sister, (and jokingly adding, over him.)

After the honeymoon period (when they hit the 3 month mark and Makoto’s blind adoration has died down,) Makoto’s feelings for Byakuya once again bubble back up. This leads him diving head first back into his bisexual crises, only this time freaking out over the fact that with the rise of these old feelings, his feelings for Kyoko have no diminished in the slightest; and he has no intention of breaking up with her.

Kyoko knows that Makoto is crushing on Byakuya (it’s pretty damn obvious) and while does she harbour continuous and stable feelings for Makoto, she is more concerned about their friendship, his relationship with himself and his personal identity. Kyoko knows and believes that he will sort himself out eventually, and is more concerned with that than the status of their relationship. She comes to the conclusion that if Makoto were to break up with her, she would be okay; satisfied knowing that he had come to terms with himself.

Unaware of the fact that Kyoko knows that he is clearly crushing on Byakuya, Makoto spends months riddled with anxiety, going back and forth, back and forth. He considers polyamory; and continues going back and forth, back and forth in his mind.

Kyoko takes note of how anxious and awkward Makoto seems to be acting, especially around her, but is patient with him and acts oblivious to aid in his comfort.

When Makoto finally comes forward with the truth to Kyoko, Kyoko is (not shocked but) pleasantly surprised that Makoto has no intention of breaking up with her. Instead, he rambles on about his feelings, and about how he wants to try polyamory, stressing that he thinks it’s okay if she doesn’t want to, but he wants to be open and honest with her,, blahdy blahdy blah... she’s okay with it all

They discuss the outlines and possibilities of the relationship with Byakuya, she expresses how she would not want to date as a three way but is happy for him to date both of them, and really helps Makoto flesh out his feelings. (It’s a lot easier for him when he’s talking to someone other than himself.)

She aids him in his strategy for confession.

Makoto wants to get some solid advice. He asks Toko about what she knows about Byakuya considering her previous... infatuation. She refuses to get involved with that again. At first.

One all-nighter later, she hands Makoto an entire stack of documents and threatens him to never bring up Byakuya again. (he agrees.)

Makoto then confesses to Byakuya who replied with “Please hold. I will get back to you within 3-5 business days.” Before swiftly exiting the premises, never to be seen for the rest of the week. (out of embarrassment, he took the next three days off “sick”.) It took him a hot minute to process (he short circuited the moment Makoto said shit.) Side note: Byakuya developed feelings for Makoto a while back, but ignored them for quite some time (mistaking them for hatred for a while too.) Irritated with his inability to conceal his feelings, he starts being meaner to Makoto then he usually is - but this only sparks even more interest from outside parties. Byakuya just results in avoiding Makoto completely. Safe to say when the confession came (in which he was not expecting at all, he was a little taken aback.)

Both Sakura and Toko give Byakuya the shovel talk (on seperate occasions)

Toko also gives Makoto the shovel talk (with a lot more intensity then with Byakuya.) Makoto brings up the fact she said not to mention Byakuya again, to which Toko threatens him and they laugh.

Just before graduation Sayaka and Kyoko rekindle their friendship. Hurrah for wholesomeness.

Bonus bonus: the universally shipped couples in the grade are Mondo and Taka, as well as Sakura and Hina. The grade requests they have two homecoming kings and two homecoming queens, expressing to the board that as a cohort their are four people they just cannot pick between. Thinking this would be between two straight couples, the school agrees, and the four go along with pretending to be straight. After the announcement, and all four are on stage, they quickly switch positions and kiss their respective s/o. The crowd goes wild.

[bonebreakjack]

What Would I Be Without You?

Tenko and Hana take a leap of faith changing their lives for better or for worse. Along the way they uncover many secrets hidden away, try to find their way in life, and deal with their new eccentric roommates and their even more eccentric friends.

But at least their doing it together.

(An AU of what would have happened if AFO hadn't interfered with the Shimura family's lives. (Cause I refuse to believe he had no part in that horror). This is my take of what could have happened via what little we saw of the family.)

Chapter 2: What A Day...And It’s Not Even Over yet

If this was going to be a new normal, Tenko would rather take his chances and hide from society back inside the apartment becoming a shut in. It’s as if the universe was like ‘Fuck You’ to him and his sister the moment they stepped out. First they missed  the first two busses. Not even just one, but both of them, to get to the station. So they both had to run all the way to the station so they could make the train. Then there was a villain attack along the way and the crowd watching the Hero and Villain go at it. (Is that the new upcoming hero Mirko? She’s moving around like a frenzied rabbit keeping the guy disoriented.) Tenko would have been more happy to see the fight if we weren't worried about getting to school on time. ( Which really was more about keeping as much stress off his sister as possible she’s got enough on her plate besides worrying about him.) Navigating the crowd  was a nightmare and a half, no one wanted to move, half of them were being rude assholes and the other half kept hesitating cause they didn’t want to look away from the fight. Hana nearly tasted dirt more than a couple times and Tenko sure as hell did taste the dirt with being shoved around. They finally make it to the station only for the ticket machine to break and them missing the train having to wait nearly an hour for another one. Thus making them late.

 Hana tried to lighten the atmosphere by suggesting they go buy snacks while they waited, only for Tenko to tell her he was broke cause he spent the last of his money on house items they needed, and she herself had forgotten her wallet. Meaning they don’t even have money for the train to begin with. Wonderful. They did have a bit of luck in Hana digging through her bag and finding enough change to get them on the train, but she would probably have to ask one of their roommates to get her her wallet when they wake up. She paid for the tickets and they sat in silence on their phones. Tenko saw that his phone battery was in the red and went to get his charger …..that he didn’t bring . So he just wasted what little he had on mobile games. He threw the damn thing in his bag and scowled for the next hour, as the rage bubbled up inside him and he stewed like a pressure cooker. The train comes and one again he's surrounded by people, who were far too close and pushy as they packed into the train like sardines. He could feel his very thin rope of patience fraying quickly. He hated being touched, there were too many people, and today was NOT working in their favor, he has to go back to school in the middle of the year, they moved all the way into the city in a stranger's house he had never met, and its too much for the first fucking day- Hana reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing lightly and he throttled the urge to scratch at his face and neck. His sister hated it and it made her distressed. He stewed in stillness instead, thinking positive. At least they were together. Not.

Tenko was seriously contemplating homicide right now. He was jam packed alone on the train to the new school he had to go to, his sister got dropped off at her Highschool two stops before so he had to suffer alone now. This was pure crap and what's worse because of his height made him easy to push and shove around, and God help him Why is everyone TOUCHING HIM?

This was the start of what Tenko was sure to be a Hellish day.

Fuck.

The hiss of the doors alerted him to freedom and he clawed his way out nearly knocking over an elementary school girl. From what he could see she apparently had a similar plan but was using the wall to avoid death by stampede. Apologizing under his breath, Tenko pulled her up and then shoved her through the door before following. He yelled out another apology as he ran, noticing the time.

A plain faced boy passed him wearing the same uniform, his face more panicked as he ran to get to school. HE was a bit weird out by the boys muttering of wanting to avoid his mother's fly swats.

More and more students passed by him as he slowed down wearing the same uniform as him. He couldn't help but stare at how much more unique looking everyone was in comparison to the private school he went to. A sense of more freedom filled the air and the students seemed more lively. They seemed pretty happy and content rubbing their good mood to everyone today.

Maybe today won’t be as bad as he thought-

He was shoved to the side very roughly by a much taller bastard of a kid with dark red brown hair with needle like appearance and gold eyes. He smirked condescendingly down at Tenko who glared back up at him. He began to walk away but Tenko wasn't about to let him. Nope that was the last fucking straw that burnt up the rest of his self restraint. He couldn’t help his lips twitching, wanting to stretch into a smile as a thought passed through his head. Hello, Misplaced Aggression.

"Hey bastard what was that for?" Tenko was snarling at the now surprised boy, assholes like this think they're so damn mighty until someone barks back. But they messed with him on the wrong day.

"You were in my way shortly, learn to make room for your betters!" The Tall Bastard, as Tenko now deemed him, had gathered himself after he realized Tenko wasn't backing down. His two friends flanking him to try and further intimidate him.

Tenko just scoffed and wondered when they started cloning cliches. Different schools have the same bullies, how predictable. The ones back home were scarier anyway, they actually knew who his dad was.

"Oh I'm sorry your majesty, I didn't realize you have a Caution: Wide Load sign on you."

The silence was too beautiful, he should have recorded it, or took out his phone to take a picture (he was still mad at leaving his charger at home). The Tall Bastard’s face was turning a funny shade of red from humiliation and anger. His friends looked wary and looked at their leader  before backing away slowly. “You looking down on me you puny bastard!” Tall Bastard picked Tenko up by the scruff of his collar and Tenko could almost hear a choir cause it was as if his prayers were answered and someone decided to send him a punching bag.

If that’s the case then… A yelp that sounded like a came from the mouth of a dog came out of the Tall Bastards mouth and he dropped Tenko to cover and hold his injured crotch from where Tenko kicked him. One doesn’t play fair with those who won’t give the same treatment. As soon as he was on the ground Tenko’s leg shot out to kick Tall Bastard on the back of the head making him hit the ground. He picked up his backpack where it had fallen and went to walk away. “Hey asshole I wasn’t done with you-!” “Wait Soga! You can’t get in trouble again. You could get expelled this time.”One of the friends spoke up, he had a reptilian appearance and on the short side. He grabbed his friend Soga’s arm to keep him from attacking Tenko. “Let's Just leave besides I get the feeling this kid isn’t all there if yanno what I mean.” Tenko felt a scowl pull at his lips at the remark which caused the reptilian human to hide behind Tall Bastards-Soga’s- body. The two boys stared at each other down before Soga tsked and spat on the ground. “Fine whatever, he’s not fucking worth it anyway.”They walked to the school entrance, though Tenko noticed with slight satisfaction that Soga was limping as he did. It didn’t help the bitterness that burned in his lungs as the words ‘Not worth it’ , ran in his head. The small fight didn’t help his bad mood and he grumbled all the way to the Staff office as how unsatisfied he felt.

  He got scolded for being late on his first day of transferring by a bulbous looking teacher. He was just in time for the 2nd period to begin but they weren’t lenient on tardies. And no, you can’t use a villain attack as an excuse. Asshole. Tenko looked sourly down at his schedule and the added papers on top of it. Apparently his sister had asked the staff to give him a list of clubs he could join this late in the year. He and Hana transferred to their new schools in the middle of fall, a really weird time but they didn’t have much of a choice. Ugh he didn’t even do clubs back home, why would she think he would now? He trudged all the way to homeroom and was met with the Class representative, a lanky boy with a split mouth and slim face. When he spoke his voice contained a slight hiss and small bumps of flesh along with extra needle-like rows of teeth shows. A snake-like quirk it seems. The boy was polite and said u anything to ask him. The only seat available was the one in the cornerback near the classroom closet. Another good thing that happened today seems, best place to pretend you're doing work and take a nap. He had a few minutes before 2nd period officially started which was physical education and all the boys were changing. Since he hadn’t gotten his uniform for that yet he was allowed to sit out or stay in the classroom. Obviously he decided to stay and the class representative went to go change himself while Tenko worked on setting up his desk to take a nap on. At the corner of his eye he spotted a strange looking teenager with bandages all over his arms and neck. His hair was black in a way that clearly looked dyed, and his eyes were almost a luminous blue. Something about him kept nagging at Tenko’s brain. He decided to just go back to minding his business and didn’t even know why some random kid caught his attention anyway. The moment every one left he  laid his head on his desk and knocked solidly out. ----- Tenko and Hana were walking home when a man with white hair stood in front of them, he smiled kindly at them and for some reason Tenko was having a hard time putting a face to this stranger or even a name. Is he new around here? Did he just move in? Tenko didn’t hear the others talking about anyone new in the neighborhood. The man was talking to them about something but Tenko can’t remember what he was saying. The words just sounded like noise. He reached out  to him with a hand but Hana put herself in front of Tenko and started screaming about a pervert and calling for help. Whatever ease Tenko had felt disappeared when she did and followed her lead bringing the attention of whatever adults in the area to them. Hearing a familiar dog-like growl, Tenko felt relief as he saw Mikkuns mother stomp up to them and the man backing up as she interrogated him on what he was doing with them. Getting vague answers she tells him she has never seen him around here before, putting her body right in front of them blocking their view of the man. The words became a blur again and whatever he said seemed to pacify her but then Mikkuns mom was leading them home. She was talking to herself, french accent thick with anger and suspicion as she was going to tell the other neighborhood parents about this. His own mom opened the door demurely as if waiting to receive bad news and apologize. It hurts Tenko to know she was already suspecting that he got in trouble for something. To her surprise and fear Mikkun’s mom was talking about how a strange man had begun talking with her children but Mikkun did not recall anyone moving in recently. She was going to ask the other mothers but warned his mom Nao to keep an eye out. They ended up receiving praise from the French woman for their quick thinking and instincts before getting head pats from her paws. She bidded them a good day before marching off intending to go warn the others parents. Mikkuns mom was pretty cool. Both kids were brought into a hug by their mom who was so happy they were okay before ushering them to the living room and rushed to go talk to grandma and grandpa. Tenko wondered why he can’t seem to recall this mans face-

“Shimura-san, Shimura-san…”Somebody was shaking him, ripping him from his memory. Tenko blearily looked up to see the class president looking down at him in concern. Shooting up from his desk thinking he slept while class came back, but was happy to see it was just the class  President there. Seeing his gym uniform showed he had come from where the class actually was to find him. “Sorry about that Shimura-san, a man had come to school saying he bought something from home that you forgot..” A shadow image of a taller man with slicked back hair and cold eyes flashed in his mind making him shudder. A wave of fear ran through him and all he could think was pain. The President looked concerned at Tenko reaching his hands out as if to prevent him from falling over but Tenko stepped out of his reach.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything anyway. Who did you say came by?”He let out a shuddering breath and gathered himself in case it was who he thought it was. The President's tongue slipped out as if tasting the air before letting out a sign. “A Shirakumo Oboro? Do you wish for me to tell him you're busy? I will if you want.” That was surprising, most people wouldn’t lie to an adult so blatantly like that and not for someone else. It made Tenko feel a bit awkward but also a little happy. “No it’s fine I know who that is. Thank you….” Tenko trailed off. A flush of heat hit his cheeks once he realized he has no idea what the president’s name is. It got even worse one the other taller boy realized and laughed softly. The president led him out of the class to the front entrance. “Uroko Sogen. Now let’s hurry, there isn’t much time before the rest of the class comes back.” Making it to the door he tried not to look too surprised to see one of Hana and his new roommates, or really he should be calling them the actual tenants, here at his school. The man was on the taller side with tan skin and a scar on his head, his hair flowed around white and fluffy like a cloud even though it was pulled back into a ponytail. Blue eyes caught Tenko’s form and waved at him like an enthusiastic idiot. 

Which had the opposite effect it intended, making Tenko want to do an 180 and go back to class. “Lil Shimura-chan!” Actually never mind he’s just going to go back to class. “NO WAIT, I GOT YOUR CHARGER!”The older man screeched, panicked seeing Tenko actually maneuver to go back inside. Tenko looked confused and a little suspicious that the man came all the way here just to deliver his charger. “Hana texted me saying she forgot some things at the apartment, and that you also forgot this. I wasn’t working so-” He went to one of the multitude of pockets he had and pulled it out letting it fall gently into a confused Tenko’s waiting hands. “The first day can be rough, and from what I heard from Hana it was far from ideal for the both of ya. It ain’t much but I can take you two somehwere to eat after she’s done training? I know a place with great Sushi.”  It was a bit silent after that but Tenko felt his lips twitching into a small smile. Shirakumo didn’t have to do that, he could have just dropped off his sister's stuff and be done. It felt nice to be considered. “I think I would like that.” The smile he got from Shirakumo was downright blinding, seriously did he employ the sun into his teeth why was it so bright?! 

“Alright! I’ll leave you to it then. Have a good day Lil Shimura-san!” The older man waved at them before taking off on a cloud like a dragon ball parody character. Huh so that what his quirk was, he wonder how he implements that into his hero work- “Shimura-san class is about to start.” Tenko’s thoughts were interrupted before nodding at the boy as they went back in. He couldn’t help but squeeze the charger in his pocket, happy that some good things came out of today at the very least. They got into class and all the boys had finished changing back into their regular uniforms. His eyes caught the blued eyed black haired kid again and was shocked to find he had piercings in his ears, nose, and lip. He couldn’t believe the school even allowed that. The other kid looked up before giving him a wink flustering Tenko.

Distracted he didn’t see the small girl trying to get into class and tripped right over her knocking them both over.

Dammit he jinxed himself. Tenko quickly got up and pulled her up to her feet. She was so small for a second he could have mistaken her for a younger elementary student. Her hair was a pinkish red and she reminded him of cherub from those paintings but without the wings. “Ah I’m sorry-!” They both started and it became a babbled mess that the president broke up since they were in front of the door. The girl sat in the front seat looking down at her now dirty uniform, and Tenko winced before deciding to pay her back later for that.

The class filled in and sat around talking to each other. He tried to ignore the occasional glances his way from his new classmates and especially that bastard with the glowy eyes. A heavy knocking and the class stood up as this ridiculous amazon of a woman walked into the door. She was clearly built under her suit and skirt and looked more like she would fit in a fighting ring than she would as a teacher. Her hair long purple pink, and eyes that looked shiny and red. She looked even bigger as they sat down. “Helloooo class!”And Loud, she was very loud, it grated on Tenko’s ears a bit “Now I’m sure you all were gossiping about it during gym, but I’m a say it again anyway. We have a new classmate with us.” She looked at Tenko and invited him up and damn he hated this. He trudged along slowly to the front as the teacher clapped her hands. “Let’s make this quick, we have free time and I’m sure your classmates are excited to get to know you. Why don’t you tell everyone your name, what you like, and your quirk as an ice breaker?”

Her voice became softer as she handed him the chalk. His classmates leaned in excited to gossip or rip into him the moment he was done and Tenko felt like he was in the spotlight. He wanted to puke. It would have been fine if she didn’t mention the damn quirk thing. Tenko was hoping to avoid that a little longer. So much for good things happening, right back where he started. A familiar rage boiled inside him, or it could be the stomach acid from his anxiety. His hand shook a bit as he wrote his name down slowly trying to buy himself some time. He looked at the board hoping for some answers but got now. Resigned, he put it down and turned to his excited classmates. Sogen, Dye job with blue eyes and the small cherub girl were the only ones who looked subdued.

“I’m Shimura Tenko, I like video games and syrup covered mochi,” He took a breath and decided to rip it off like a bandaid. They would find out sooner or later anyways.

“Quirkless.”

[nightmare-circus]

Serica | Reaction 4/4 | Ode to…

When: Second motive, when their surroundings were not these ephemeral islands but a quiet village. In the midst of suffocating fear, after she had committed to holing up in her room, before he had come to stay with her.

Where: On their mirrors. Due to aforementioned self-isolation.

Who: One conspiracy theorist, one nurse. Just friends, for now.

What:

( > seriously though i dont want to find you dead )

> then don’t go looking

( > how could i not? )

Why:

IX. Yamamoto, Deacon

Was it her fault, for trying to make concrete plans for the future?

( “Deacon Yamamoto, I will do everything in my power to make sure you and I can leave here, that I will find you and bring you home and we’ll spend days just sitting on the couch watching terrible sitcoms, riding on the subway gossiping about tourists, walking through the park hand in hand…“ )

No, that was stupid. 

Serica may have been a woman who believed in more than the average person, trusted in platitudes and jinxes where others would scoff, but even in the midst of the unthinkable she was dimly aware this wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t his fault. It was…. someone else. Someone else’s fault.

A someone else who she needed to find. But, she found herself once again incapable of meaningfully investigating. Not this time for exaggerated pain and weakness, but of a pure inability to move forward both physically and psychologically.

She’s done this before. She had just forced herself to shallowly rationalize and pack away the deaths of Miles, Juniper, Tatsuya, Elise. One more couldn’t be bad. She was great at compartmentalization wasn’t she? She was able to laugh and have drinks hours after poisoning a man, she was able to pretend to be a victim when only half an hour before she had killed one Danny Ostergard with her two hands. If she approached this from a distance, with the veneer of a woman who had nothing to do with the dead man before her, with the objectivity of a woman who simply was trying to figure out what was going on… she could do this, right?

Let’s begin.

How does she even begin to explain Deacon Yamamoto?

(Ah… he’d probably like that reference, wouldn’t he?)

u/BoysBBUGS ||  u/aviary23

Head mod of Fanatical Ravings of the Disappeared, he(?) had a lot of theories that she didn’t necessarily subscribe to, but saw his contributions interesting to pick at. Ships passing through the night on the world wide web ocean.

IX. The Hermit || XI. Justice

A neighbor of a neighbor, though she hadn’t seen him around much. Does he keep to himself? Why the mask?

Cockroach & Serica

A riot of a man, able to make her laugh to hysterics at their first meeting. Supposedly 32 years old, supposedly unable to bath for fear of chemicals, supposedly with child with a man he had just met. Willing to have himself come off as incredibly unreasonable in public. Despite all this, clearly intelligent, clearly possessed a mind that had a voracious appetite for information and was wonderful to bounce theories on. An asset, despite it all.

( “I’m Serica by the way!” )

[…]

“They gave me the name Cockroach. Fucking COCKROACH Ser. What kinda joke is this shit?”

“I have a dumb fucking gift and Cockroach might as well be my real name since I doubt I’ll ever hear my original one ever again.”

Roach & Riccy

Slippery in every way, but not so unreasonable as he seemed. Logic was a great way to combat him, and any answer often had to be weaseled with either heavy theorizing (her specialty) or with a tango with some off the cuff roleplaying (decidedly not her specialty). She wouldn’t be so cocky to say that he changed his habits for her but… she thinks she had a hand in convincing him. He really wasn’t so bad, if you gave him a chance, and he’d surprised her more than once with acts of care and thoughtfulness.

Dee & ██

A friend for sure, and one who seemed to have a genuine loyalty. No qualms at seeing her drop a stun gun in front of him, no reservations when she admitted tentatively that she slept with a knife, no judgements when she casually brought up murder once more. Morals in the traditional sense didn’t seem to shackle him, which was very convenient to incorporating him into her tentative plans. 26, not 32. A New Yorker, as well though rather than any borough, his car was his home. Given his life he had become a stranger to hugs, to positive affection, but once he had a taste he was hungry for more. For all his mock lovers and public swooning, he was dense to actual subtle flirting.

( “My middle name. Aka, no risk of harming me if a faelien hears it. ██.” )

“I don’t have a middle name. I’d tell you if I did, swear. You can call me Dee though. It’s a part of my first name and you already know the first letter of it when I fucked up that one time. So Dee is a pretty good substitute then, yeah?”

Deacon & ███

Incredibly cute. A true newcomer to being hit on, to being told he’s handsome, to being kissed, to being in a relationship. A strong backbone even as she herself wavered in the days leading up to the decisive moment. Determined, stating possibilities as if they were facts and refusing to acknowledge her agonizing over the worst case scenario. Through everything, an unwavering support, a hand on her back, a shoulder to lean on. A good singer of lullabies, in her opinion.

( “███. My name is ███.” )

“Deacon.”

Deacon Yamamoto & ███ ██ █

Did not hold himself in the same concern he showed her. Makes a fuss in the public chat about the wrongs done to him but brushes off the severity when questioned by his own girlfriend. Still a liar, still a master of faking a smile. 

( “I won’t remember much but i’ll know your name, your, that you helped me so much in escaping that, that you mean the World to me–” she’s just babbling “I probably will believe myself if, if I actually try to find your information or maybe your drivers license– maybe if I put you in as a missing person or– But oh no will you believe me? What if I just show up at your car and you just think I’m a scam artist or–” )

“My license plate is HGO789. Deacon Yamamoto. I’ll believe you. I’ll always believe you.”

( “…█. My last name is… █.” )

███ ██ █

There once was a man upon whom was foisted a change. Upon his rise to a breathing dream, he was stripped of his taste and stripped of subsequent limits. Immune not only to the aches of poison but the salve of saccharin, the burn of capsaicin. To match with his steel stomach was his mercurial tongue, not gifted but cultivated carefully. Silvery and poisonous with every other word, it was at the command of a mind that paralleled in fluidity. It was as if he was a maestro, and his instrument of choice was a dictionary, phrases and scenarios slung with such rapidity that all who listened were on guard for constant whiplash.

So, it meant something when words became actions.

Anyone can say anything. He especially was able to say anything, a master class perjurer of the highest degree. The sun was about to peek through the sky at any moment, he was a Staten Island woman in an unhappy marriage trying to hook up her hair dresser with her son, he was fine, he was going to be okay, he was going to get out of here–

…

There is a difference, between telling someone that you will take consideration for the situation, and spending precious currency to fit yourself with a weapon.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you will help them, protect them, and taking the extra mile to pull down the mattress of a woman who’s waking hell of a gift would not let her climb up the steps otherwise.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you want them to live and helping them plan and execute the death of another person.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you want to live and…

…

(She was failing miserably in this task).

…

No one who looked at his body, at the stagnant ichor dripping out of his head, could understand the potential for warmth like she would. His fingers combing through her hair, pulling out loose tangles and tucking locks behind her ear so she could look at him unfettered. A grin, not sharp and pulled taught, but gently reassuring, murmuring soothing phrases to ease her anxious hands. Irises, bright not with the promise of information to unravel but with unbridled emotion that made his eyes crinkle, a devoted gaze meant for one.

One person, who stood here alone.

“And it’s not like I need it, yanno? I kinda wasted my life away before all of this. Not sure if I want it back.”

"I won’t die. Not yet at least. I have some things that need getting done." 

“I mean I’m not gonna let myself die after I break a leg like some racehorse. I wanna be useful, not a damn trigger happy martyr. ” He had snorted. “I’ll still make a valiant effort to get out of here Rics. But if it comes down to me and you? Well.” He had shrugged. “As a consolation prize I will say, you do make me wanna become someone worth living again.”

"I was impliiiied my dear, of course I’m making it out of here with you. What would the point be otherwise. I was trying to make it seem all badass and broody, adding a technicality to it all would’ve been underwhelming.”

“You’re going to be stuck with me until the end of times.”

“You’re getting out of- we’re getting out of here. You were wonderful.”

“Yes I know. I will. I’m going to get out. With you.”

“Of course, █. We can live a life worth living together out there.”

“It’s going to be alright █.”

“I love you █, please. Trust me, things are gonna be fine.”

“One day at a time.”

One day at a time, she had repeated.

One day at a time, she repeats, staring at his face, flesh frozen in the way that only a cadaver could. She’d never forget the first time she had touched a dead body, and was forced to confront the jarring dissonance, the coldness, the stiffness, the pallor of the skin that had been warm, soft, pliable, just hours before. Only a child, forced to confront the concept of lives ending for the first time. Since then she had seen more than her fair share, from work, from this place, before her very eyes.

Joints creak and echo through her body as she moves, finally. To fold her knees under herself, sit at his side, hand hovering indefinitely, torn between not having to face that final moment of confirmation and wanting to just hold him once more. Before she would have to be torn from him for hours, before they returned from a useless trial and his body would be gone, before she’d have to trudge to their caravan, who’s emptiness would threaten to collapse on her.

“There is nothing worse than not knowing.”

( “No, there’s nothing worse than not living.” )

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 4

Amalthia adjusted the acetylene/oxygen regulator of her welding torch as she attempted to fuse the final piece of her rifle scope together.  All of the components fit together perfectly except for the rear sighting post that stubbornly refused to seat properly. 

"Just about... there!"  

With the final spool of flux, she managed to solder together the last piece of her custom made handiwork.  But just as she was about to shut down her workstation, she heard some rustling downstairs followed by a couple of guttural voices.  

"Amalthia. Come down here now!"  Her father called from downstairs. Once she had shut down her welding station, her nostrils immediately picked up the strong stench of rotting flesh.  

Crap! I forgot to take out the refuse barrels last night.  They're probably all maggoty by now.

She opened the window to her upstairs room hoping the fresh air would dissipate the scent.  The room was already hot and stuffy due to her metallurgical hobby.  

If only this place had an actual work shed, she pondered as she slipped on a pair of grungy open-toed boots that somewhat accommodated her clawed digitigrade feet.

"Did you forget to take out the rubbish barrels, again? The entire cutting room smells like a mortuary."  Her father's voice carried to her upstairs room in his characteristic bellowing tone.  

Padding down the spiral staircase, she looked across the living den and noticed the presence of another individual who happened to be a charr like her. 

"Silly me. When I looked down I honestly thought the smell was coming from that woman other there.  Oh.  Hi mother.  I thought I recognized your odor," Amalthia said while glaring at the female charr that was standing near the service counter.  

Siri Blastfuse turned towards her smart-mouthed daughter giving only a slightly raised eyebrow as her slitted green eyes narrowed with contempt.  "So the little cub deigns to disrespectfully greet her generous mother in spite of having a serious hangover.  I am delighted that you had enough initiative within you to even make it out of bed, runt."

Amalthia rolled her eyes, pursed her lips then nodded with a half-cocked smile.  "Well, I just had to verify where such a foul odor was coming from.  At first I thought it was from the overripe meat in the cutting room, but then I saw your face and now I'm not so sure."

Ludrick growled with anger.  "That's enough out of you both.  Amalthia - your dam came here to let you know that she's been actively searching for warbands who may be willing to take you under their wing.  Siri - give her the details... not the snark."

"Amalthia.  My only surviving lush and shriveled-runt-of-a-lame-sire - I have some news that I thought might bring a ray of sunshine into your otherwise shameful existence," Siri said mockingly.  

"I heard the legions have set up an all-volunteer regiment of suicide bombers.  Were you the first to raise your paw when the call of duty was issued?"  Her daughter replied with a smirk. 

"That would make you too happy, now wouldn't it?  No runt.  I'm offering you a chance to make something of yourself.  I've taken valuable time out of my busy schedule to search out a warband who might be interested in taking your sorry, alcohol-laden carcass into their ranks."

"You are so sweet, mother.  You would almost have me believe that actual blood pumps through that heart of yours, instead of ice.   Tell me there's not a catch behind all of this."  Amalthia looked at her mother skeptically. 

Her mother cocked her head slightly. "No catch.  I'm just sick of hearing it through the rumor mill as to what a pathetic loser you turned out to be.  Your current miserable state is bad for your sire's reputation as well as my own."

"Do you mean to tell me that you actually care for someone else other than just yourself?  Father - she just may a spark of light in that otherwise inky black heart of hers," came Amalthia's sarcastic retort.

"If the two of you cannot speak to each other like civil adult charr then perhaps one of you should just leave.  Either way, Siri came to say what she needed and that's all fine by me." Ludrick s hobbled on his cane towards the dining room chair in the hopes that sitting for a bit would help take the pressure off his already throbbing foot. 

"Fine. I will haul those maggoty barrels to the back.  Just so long as I can put as much distance between me and that woman..." Amalthia huffed.

"This place reeks of piss, rotten carcasses and cow shit.  Come to think of it, I actually kind of regret pawning her off on you, Ludrick.  Had I known she would have turned out to be this sarcastic, drunk and lazy, I would have..."

"ENOUGH!"  The old charr's raged climaxed.  He then fixed his gaze upon his daughter then pointed towards the staircase leading to the basement butchery. Amalthia gave her parting snark before disappearing down the staircase.  "Very well, then.  I will have this place smelling like a basket of freshly cut roses in no time flat.  In the mean time, would you like me to scoop out a mound of fresh wiggly maggots for your take-out lunch, mother?  Word has it they really aid in digestion." 

Siri looked her former mate, crossed her beige clouded leopard spotted arms then shook her head.  "Where does that scrawny little sack of fur and bones get that mouth of hers from?  If it were up to me, I would have ripped the cub's tongue from her throat a long time ago. Why you allow her get away with so much is beyond my comprehension."

Ludrick pointed directly into her face.  "Look into any mirror and you'll find your answer, Siri.  She's the only lineage I have left. All of the other cubs I fathered are dead."

"Oh yes.  How could I forget?  You sired," Siri said as she began to count on her long, clawed hand, "just two litters?  Why didn't you continue to knock up more kittens after our relationship?  Were your loins just not up to the task or did something vital get lopped off?"

"Reasons, Siri.  Reasons..." Ludrick lowered his head choosing to ignore her personal insults.

Siri looked him squarely into his eyes.  "Look.  I honestly don't care if that runt lives or dies, so long as her actions do not in any way sully my reputation."

"There was a time when you did care for our cubs; including Amalthia and her twin sister even though she died shortly after birth."

"My capacity for caring died along with our other three.  You are too softhearted, Ludrick.  And that softness is going to eventually be the doom of our people.  You do know that, right?"

Ludrick looked at her then shook his head.  "No Siri. Compassion is not weakness; it's a strength."

"What in the hell have you been sipping on, you old fool?  You've obviously been hanging around humans too long.  Now you're sounding sappy as well as sentimental."

"Open that poisoned tongue of yours once more and I'll show you just how much of a charr I still am.  Now get out of my house, now! Otherwise I just might crack that skull of yours wide open with this cane!" Ludrick roared as he held his wooden crutch aloft.

"Ohh.  Now that's the big, old hairy beast I used to know and adore.  Keep talkin' like that and you and I may end up getting frisky and pop out a new litter together... just for old times sake of course, " Siri said with a devious grin as she slowly strode towards the front door.  

"Out.  NOW!" Ludrick's voice thundered with rage.

Within the span of fifteen minutes, Amalthia emerged from downstairs. 

"I assume that evil woman has left the building.  The air already smells less foul," she said while glancing around the dining area.

"She's gone... at least for the time being. Amalthia - I wish things were... oh, never mind."

"Oh my.  The effects of inebriation are beginning to wear off.  Talking like a teary-eyed human is a sure sign of this condition," Amalthia quipped. 

"Bah!  Please tell me you didn't finish that last liter of mead when you went downstairs."

"I would never be that cruel to you, sire.  There's just enough for each of us to have one pint.  I kept it in reserve for situations just such as this."

Amalthia helped her father down the flight of stairs as he hobbled trying to avoid putting undue pressure on his right foot.  Once they were in the cutting room, father and daughter split the remaining contents of the liter between them.

"Yanno.  I don't think there's a charr on the surface of Tyria who can match wits with my Amalthia," Ludrick said as he offered a toast. 

"To a life of loose lips and brooding loneliness."

In spite of her inebriated state, Amalthia raised her stein then clashed it against his partially empty mug. 

"I'll certainly drink to the first part, father."

[pumpkin-spice-whump-latte]

Whumptober #15: Scars

This is late for the same reason some babies are born late: they just don’t wanna come out of there.

It took me a while to get to where I was happy with this, and it helps to explain a good bit about Carlos. Content includes: descriptions of blood and slight gore, implied torture, dehumanization, mentions of gang violence, hurt/comfort, emotional whump

________________________________________________

“Did that uh…” Ben gestured in towards his own neck with a waggling finger. Carlos was a few feet away, on his back with his feet kicked up casually against the wall as if they weren’t both chained to it. “Did that thing on your neck hurt…?”

—

His friend was tossed back in the cell after being gone long enough for Ben to have actually fallen asleep despite his worry. The sound of flesh smacking the floor and a pained groan woke him up with a start, and he scrambled over immediately. What was the damage, he thought frantically. Was it permanent this time? Did Carlos still look human shaped???

—

Carlos craned his head back so that he could stare in Ben’s direction. “You mean the big old fucking tattoo on my neck? That you get by stickin’ a million needles into your skin for like three fuckin’ hours? THAT thing?”

Ben shook his head and sighed. “I really don’t have time to navigate your Disneyland of sarcasm today. I just don’t.”

Carlos scoffed and went back to staring at the ceiling of their cell. “See, that’s where you’re wrong! You got all the time in the world.” He arched his back up off the ground in a cat-like stretch, held the pose for a moment that made Ben stare, then settled back in with his hands laced behind his head. “We BOTH got all the time in the world, Benny boy.”

—

Green eyes fluttered open as Ben lifted Carlos up in his arms. Long fingers were firmly clapped over the left side of his neck, and Ben could see those fingers were bloody, but he was still breathing. If he had enough air in his lungs to groan he’d be okay. It couldn’t be that bad.

The other man had more muscle on him but it was all lean and wiry, and he fit against Ben’s chest despite his broader shoulders and longer arms. He always did. All of him was still human shaped anyway, at the very least, and Ben silently thanked the impassive nothingness around them.

“Hey, bud. You okay?”

Stupid questions usually got stupid answers, but this time it was vital. Neither of them were ever really “okay” but what Ben meant was “Are you still here with me?” and “Do you think this one is fatal?” and “Am I going to be alone soon?”

Carlos knew this and shook his head. “Nah, I’m alright man. Just…just b-burns.” His hands were shaking just a little but other than that he was relaxed. Almost limp. Despite whatever had happened to him his eyes were almost… calm. Unnaturally glassy as they darted around like manic green fireflies, unable to focus.

Ben gently took the man’s hand away from his neck to see the damage–and felt like he’d choke on his own breath. The entire left side of Carlos’ throat was one huge open wound.

“M'ok Benny-boy. D-don’t worry…”

—

“Please don’t call me Benny boy. I’m not a boy.”

“Sure thing Benny-Man.”

“Oh shut up. I’ll never understand how you can crack jokes while we’re basically waiting for our torturer to be done… Jacking off and ordering pizza! Or whatever it is he’s doing out there…” Ben said with a hateful glance toward the bolted metal door.

“Well what do you expect me to do? Cry about it?” Carlos said back, suddenly snappy. Edging on a defensiveness that Ben knew from experience not to test.

He sighed. “Well, why don’t you tell me why you decided to get a NECK tattoo. Of all things. I mean no shade or anything, you do you, but I’m kinda surprised you landed an internship at all with that thing. It’s hardly professional, is all.”

His answer was two big middle fingers. Then Carlos was pressing a soft touch to the praying hands, rosary clasped between them, on the left side of his throat. The design was big. Unmistakeable and loud in bold black ink, unable to be hidden away with even a high shirt collar. There were words in flowing, dramatic script beside it. Lest We Forget.

“I uh… I got it to… cover something up.” That was a response Ben hadn’t even dreamed of hearing, and he perked up. Interested in an anxious way.

“…A scar?”

Carlos fingered the tattoo again for a moment, then let his hand fall back to the ground with a sigh. “Yeah. A scar.”

—

“Jesus fuck, Jesus fuck.” The skin on Carlos’ neck had been peeled away. Looked like that anyway, red and raw under the sprinkling of blue mystery powder the scientist used as his own weird blood clotting and disinfecting agent. That powder was often the reason either of them stayed alive to have more fun the next day, so their relationship with it was very love/hate.

“That’s b-blasphemous. Jesus d-doesn’t wanna fuck you.” Carlos’ skin felt cold against Ben’s hands even though he was sweating, and Carlos could feel a fear settle in his stomach like ice. Carlos was going into shock. Was already in it.

“Oh sorry, are you saying he wants to fuck YOU?” Ben offered a breathless chuckle, trying to add brave words to the improv play they were putting on, but knowing someone could very easily die from the kind of state Carlos was in. There had been just enough blood loss and pain and in fear in the removal of Carlos’ tattoo, that his body no longer knew what to do with itself. The bleeding may have been stopped but Ben knew if they didn’t do something Carlos’ organs might decide to quit the whole production and exit stage right.

“Okay. Okay, just relax. It’s okay. M'gonna take care of you. I got you, buddy.” He tapped into his own medical training and went about reciting his ABC’s.

—

“It was stupid. Back when…” Carlos started reluctantly, but heaved a sigh and finally got the words out. “Back when I was still in a gang. Sixteen, seventeen. Got in a nasty fight and then the guy pulled a knife and it wasn’t a fight no more. You feel me?”

Ben was quiet. He’d scooted over as far as the chain on his ankle would allow, which put him just in touching distance of his friend. He took advantage of it since, while Carlos would deny it up and down for days, physical touch always seemed to calm him. Ground him. He reached out and laid a hand on Carlos’ wrist. A comforting gesture.

“I don’t… Judge you for being sucked into a gang. You were young. You were…”

“Stupid. I know.” Carlos finished for him and looked away. That wrist stayed soft and accepting of Ben’s touch though. “Anyway I got rushed to the hospital. Bunch of stitches. They had to call my parents and I had to talk to the police and… It was a big fuckin’ thing.”

“Did you decide to get out then?”

“Nah. In fact I saw it as a trophy. I lied to my mom and I lied to the police and I went right back out there. Kept doing my thing, and now I had a battle scar to show off.”

Ben’s head tilted. “So if getting sliced across the neck didn’t scare you out of it… What did?”

Carlos didn’t look at him.

—

“C'mon buddy, look at me. Keep looking right at me, okay? I’m right here.” Ben had laid Carlos back down on the floor, stripping off his shirt and draping it over the prone man’s chest as the only form of blanket they had. His pants were stripped off too and rolled up, propped up under Carlos’ ankles so his feet were elevated a little.

It wasn’t nearly enough to keep Carlos warm, and Ben had finally laid down on the cold floor next to his friend. Draped part of his own body over him as well, arm over his chest and finding a hand to hold tight. “You’re gonna be okay. I got you.”

“He took it. That was my new…life. Away fr-from all that street shit. It was m-my new beginning. He cut it out because he said– he said–”

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s over now.” Ben squeezed the hand in his a little tighter, heart breaking as he realized the magnitude of what had really happened. He hoped Carlos didn’t say what he knew was coming, but there was no stopping it. The words came stuttering out of his friend’s clammy, quivering lips in hollow notes.

“He said he wa-was the only one th-that got to put marks on m-my body. He said I was his rat now. Nothin’ more…”

“No.” Ben pressed his forehead to Carlos’ cheek, feeling his chest ache with grief and fury at the same time. He’d been called a “lab rat” before but he’d managed to keep himself from believing it. He’d managed to keep his head above water and remember who he was.

He wasn’t sure if Carlos could.

“No way. You don’t belong to him. You understand me? Look. Look at me.”

—

After a minute or two Carlos turned those brilliant green eyes over to Ben. They were serious. A little wet. More than a little haunted. “Don’t ever let anyone ever tell you there’s such a thing as a knife fight. Or a gun fight. You don’t ‘fight’ with weapons like that. You hurt the other person before they hurt you. It’s over in less than half a minute, and nine times outta ten you don’t know they mean to kill you till you’re on the ground. Any stupid bastard that tries to brag about his skills with a deadly weapon? That’s when you know he’s never had to really hurt anyone. He’s never watched anyone die.”

Ben heard the way Carlos’ voice cracked a little at the end there, and put two and two together. His own life might not have meant much to him as a dumb, misguided teenager, but it was another thing entirely when you lose a friend.

Carlos took a ragged sigh. “Anyway. I made the decision to get the fuck out. Joined one of those online schools for medical assisting that you see on the commercials. ‘Cuz my mom was a nurse, you know? And yeah. Heh. I got an internship. Was gonna work through it and then earn my BA at a real brick and mortar. Real legit. Turn my whole fuckin’ life around, yanno?”

Ben couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. “You did good, man. I’m proud of you.”

The blush that bloomed over Carlos’ nose was immediate and beet red. “Fuck you.”

Ben’s smile didn’t leave his lips. “Fuck you too.”

—

“Fuck the scientist. Okay? He doesn’t know anything.” Ben whispered fervently against Carlos’ skin. Like a prayer. Or an admonition. “He doesn’t know how hard you worked to get off the streets. He doesn’t know what Lest We Forget you were trying to remember. And he doesn’t know that the scar you’re gonna have now? It won’t be his either.” He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but Ben pressed a short, quick kiss to Carlos’ jaw. Something about praying still, maybe.

“It won’t be his because you’re gonna survive. You’re gonna show his ass how strong you are. And this mark on your neck? It’s gonna remind him every time he looks at it: you didn’t kill me, motherfucker. You didn’t kill me and you didn’t erase anything. You can’t get in my brain, no matter what you do to my body.”

Carlos was quiet through all that. Too quiet. Ben lifted his head and pressed two fingers to the side of Carlos’ neck that still had skin. His pulse was... okay. Better than before even. His eyes were a little clearer, even if they looked exhausted as they gazed up at Ben.

“Man. You’re really gay. I ever tell you that?”

Ben broke out into an almost hysterical giggle. Yeah. Carlos was strong. He would be okay. “I mean???? You’re not wrong! Literally!”

Ben kept him talking for long enough that he felt it was safe to let the man sleep. Kept wrapped around him the whole time, and neither of them minded in the least. The blue powder worked it’s magic (or science, if you will) well enough that Carlos’ neck would scar over in a matter of days. Fresh pink skin where a tattoo used to be. Where a declaration used to be.

Ben resolved to do his best to keep reminding Carlos’ that it was still there. Just not skin deep.

[allthings-fantasy]

See You Again - Part 11

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 3500 (yikes im sorry)

Warnings: there is some plot in this but mostly smut, dirty talk (Dean has a vulgar mouth), thigh riding, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, language, praise kink (a tiny bit) 

AuthorsNote: Sorry this part took me a little longer to get out!! ALSO sorry it’s kind of long. But thank you for sticking with this story! Happy Reading. 

Part 10                 ALL OTHER PARTS

“Personally, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Jason’s voice urged from the other end. You simply rolled your eyes and set the glass of water down in front of Sam. “I mean, you  haven’t seen them in years and now they’re staying at your place? Why don’t you stay here and they can stay there?” Obviously, Jason wasn’t too thrilled about allowing the Winchester brother’s into your home. 

“Jas, they’re not the scariest thing out there. Plus it’s extra protection.” You winked at the younger brother and leaned against the counter to hug yourself. For the most part, your body felt much better. But your ribs were still sore and needed babied. 

It was the day after you got attacked that you suggested Sam and Dean stay at your place. You had a spare room and it allowed them to be close in case anything happened again. “Will you at least call me before you go to bed? And uh… in the morning too?” He rushed out the last part as if you would ever say no to him. 

“Okay, daddy.” Your sarcastic tone caused Sam to snort but your word choice left Jason audiably cringing. 

“Please don’t call me that, that phase of my life was over 5 years ago… especially now that I am an actual daddy…” Him gagging over the word had your laughing into the phone, picturing him visibly recoiling in your head. 

A smirk formed over your lips before glancing down the hallway to make sure that Dean was in the bathroom. “Ugh fine… hey, maybe Dean wouldn’t mind being called that?” Your eyebrow quirked at the strangled noise your best friend released. 

“Wait a damn minute, I di-”

“Gotta go, Jas! Love you!” You quickly pressed the red button before he could get another word out. With a huff, your eyes found Sam’s and you gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry bout that.” 

He shrugged and took another drink of water. “Trust me, it’s not the worse thing I’ve heard.” 

Your smile grew wider and a small nod of your head, “So uh, how’ve you been Sam? I haven’t really seen you since… that day in the hospital.” You winced at the memory of running out of the room flashing to the front of your mind. 

One of Sam’s shoulders lifted and he let out a small sigh. “Been good… a crazy past couple of years. Sitting here kinda reminds you how much jumping around from motel to motel sucks.” 

“I imagine you guys have a lot of back aches.” Your nose scrunched up slightly. 

Sam laughed and nodded his head, pushing some of his hair from his eyes. “Uh yeah, the shitty mattresses and digging up graves really puts a kink in the spine.” He paused for a moment, turning the glass slowly in his hand, inspecting it as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. You watched as he looked down the hall again before looking into your eyes. “He wants to quit, yanno.” 

The simple sentence made your brows furrow and you stood up a little straighter. “What?”

He blinked and leaned back in his chair. “Dean… he’s been saying it for a while now. How he wants to get out of hunting, maybe not permanently. But he wants a place to settle down.” 

You felt a weird fluttering in your chest at his words. Ever since you met Dean all those years ago, all you wanted to do was live out your days with the older Winchester. “I uh…” 

“He never stopped loving you. He won’t admit it to me when he’s sober but he still does. He’ll say your name in the middle of the night if the nightmares get too bad, or he’ll start tearing up over you after one too many glasses of whiskey.” Sam huffed and you didn’t know if you wanted him to keep talking or just utterly shut his mouth. 

“I know he fucked up but you can’t totally blame him. You knew Dad, he had Dean turned into a soldier… he was scared something was going to happen to you if he didn’t get you out of the life. I’m not telling you to take him back right now, but please just talk to him. I just want my brother happy again.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of the bathroom door opening cut you off. A cloud of steam filled the hallway and Dean emerged wiping his face and hair off with one of your towels. He padded down the hall until he stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “That is some of the best water pressure I’ve ever felt in my life.” His eyes widened and ran a few fingers through his hair, making the strands stick up in the cutest way. God, you just wanted to tug on it.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” You smiled at him and took in the rest of his appearance. He was in grey sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt. Dean definitely didn’t look like he was 19 anymore. The tanned skin of his arms look utterly delicious and you were convinced the size of his biceps has doubled. Dean Winchester was a gorgeous man. “Would you like some coffee?”

He flashed you a bright smile and walked over to sit beside Sam. “That’d be perfect, sweetheart.”  

You nodded and went to the cupboard to grab him a mug and pour him a cup. “You still take it black?” You raised an eyebrow and slowly slid the mug across the island. 

The corner of his mouth twitched as he picked up the mug to take a gulp. “You remember.”

Sam cleared his throat a little and stood, placing his empty glass in the sink. “I’m actually going to head back to the motel.. I made sure to tell Margaret to keep a room open for me.” 

His admission made your attention shift from Dean and focus on the younger of the two. “Wait what? Why would you stay there?” Your lips turned into a small frown. You hoped Sam didn’t feel awkward here, he deserved to be here as much as his brother. 

He let out a small laugh and shrugged a shoulder. “There’s only spare bed here, Y/N. And I don’t see either me or him fitting comfortably on that couch. It’s fine, it’ll be nice to have some place to myself for the night.” 

Running his words over in your head, you eventually sighed and gave him a small nod. He was right about not being able to fit on your couch, but you can’t help the fact that they’re both huge. “We’ll call you in the morning, Sammy.” Dean gave his brother a smile before Sam bid his goodnight and headed out your door. 

With a heavy sigh, Dean turned his attention back to you and gave you a small smirk, “And then there were two…”

You snorted and nodded your head, moving to open your fridge. “I don’t really have much to eat. I’m usually at Jason’s house so this place is kind of barren.” Your weight shifted between your feet and pointed to the stack of menus on the table. “We can get take out if you want.” 

“Sounds good, sweetheart.” His famous nickname still made your cheeks tint pink. Dean wasn’t an idiot, he knew the effect he was having on you, but that didn’t seem to stop him. 

Walking over to the kitchen table, you grabbed the stack of menus and started flipping through them. “So um, what are you in the mood for?” 

The sound of the stool scraping across your floor let you know Dean was walking towards you, What you weren’t expecting was to feel the heat of his chest press flush against your back. Your spine instantly straightened and you flinched at the sudden contact. 

“Easy, tiger. Just trying to look at the options.” Dean’s voice was right beside your ear. His warm breath fanning across the side of your neck, almost distracting you from the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your hips. 

It was such a simple touch but it already had your skin feeling flushed. It had been a long time since someone has held you like this. “Dean.” His name came out with a heavy breath and you could feel yourself start to lean back against him. 

“You still like that Chinese place down the road?” How he was acting so casual should be pissing you off. He was slowly twisting you tighter and tighter around his finger again, only this time you weren’t sure you wanted to stop it. 

Dean’s fingers found the hem of your shirt and slowly crept underneath, letting the rough pads tease the exposed skin. You gulped and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the fluttering growing in your stomach. “What are you doing?” 

His right hand tightened around your hip while his left arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Trying to figure out what to eat, baby.” He let out a small laugh. “What do you want me to be doing?” 

“You’re touching me.” It wasn’t intended, but it came out sounding as a question rather than a statement. The thumb of his right hand was slowly massaging circles into your flesh with his thumb. 

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling, you could practically feel it. Dean’s head dipped a little further down until his lips found the junction of your neck and shoulder. A feather light kiss had all the tension melting from your body. “Should I stop?” 

A small whimper escaped your lips and you shook your head. Just feeling his hands on you was enough to zap any questions from your mind. “Turn around, sweetheart. Look at me.” He gave your hip a small tap with his pointer finger to encourage your movement.

Dropping the menus from your hand, you slowly turned in his arms, happy that he kept them secured on you. Dean’s eyes were looking back at you so intently it made you shudder. No one looked at you like that in years. “If you want me to stop, I will. You just need to say the word.” 

You knew he could see the wheels turning in your head, trying to figure out what you wanted to do. It only took a moment for you to make up your mind. You shimmied your arms out of his grip and brought them up to rest against his chest. There was a flash of disappointment that flashed through his eyes, thinking you were going to push him away. 

Your hands didn’t stay still for long. They ran over the curves of his chest and up over his shoulders until they linked behind the back of his neck. It was hard not to smile when you watched the doubt melt from his eyes and turn into hope. “Kiss me.” 

There was only a second that passed before he reacted. Dean’s lips crashed to yours, the two of your in a tangle of lips and tongue. There was so much pent up emotion between the two of you, all of it pouring out in this kiss. His hands moved from your waist down to the back of your thighs, prompting you to jump up. 

Dean lifted you with ease as your ankles linked at his lower back. A small whine left your mouth at the feeling of him pressed tight against your core. His hands groped at the globes of your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Feeling a stroke of courage, you let your tongue run across his bottom lip, seeking entrance. Dean groaned and opened for you, letting you taste the familiar taste that is Dean Winchester. 

He walked backwards from the table and turned, walking down the hallway in a few quick strides. “Second door… on the left.” You gasped at the feeling of his teeth scraping across your neck, causing goosebumps to rise from your skin. One of his hands left your body to push your bedroom door open. 

Three large steps into your room and Dean carefully dropped you onto your mattress with a bounce and a giggle. “God, I missed that sound.” Then he pounced, your knees falling apart for him to settle between your legs. You didn’t know how bad you missed the feeling of him on top of you until now. 

Dean’s lips and hands were everywhere, frantically trying to engrave you into his memory as if all of this is just a dream. His hips rocked once, letting the bulge from his erection press against where you needed him most. Your hips jerked up in response, trying to chase that feeling again. 

He let out a small chuckle and shook his head, lips tracing across your collarbone. “Still eager as ever.” His hand found your shirt again and began pushing it upwards, not stopping until he cupped your breast. The warmth radiating from his palm had you whimpering. “What, sweetheart? Tell me what you need.” 

You groaned and leaned your head to the side as he started sucking on the soft skin of your neck. “I need you… I need you inside me, please, Dean.” Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. He was winding you up so tight all you wanted was for him to push you right over that sweet edge. 

“Soon, baby.” He winked at you, causing you to huff. Leaning back on his thighs, Dean gripped the fabric of your shirt and pulled it from your head. “We got all night… and I want to taste you.” He flashed you a devilish smirk and shifted until one of his thighs was pressed against your core. 

The feeling of his warm, wet mouth covering your left nipple distracted you from the pressure pressing against your aching pussy. Dean’s tongue traced around the sensitive nub before running his teeth across it. 

He had you a moaning mess in a matter of minutes. Your hips started rocking up against his hard thigh, shamelessly getting yourself off on his leg. You could feel yourself dripping and you knew there would be a wet mark on Dean’s sweatpants. The coil in your belly was winding tighter and tighter with every flick of his tongue, every rock of your hips. It was all beginning to be too much. “You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my thigh?”

Your head frantically nodded, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Yes, Dean, please.” Just a few more thrusts and you’d be good, just a few more and you’d be seeing stars. 

Right before you sent yourself over the edge, Dean removed himself from between your legs and moved to stand at the end of your bed. A disgruntled whine filled the room as you shifted up onto your elbows to look at him, wanting to smack the smug look right off his face. “Excuse you?!”

Dean shook his head and snickered, leaning down to hook his fingers into the waistband of your sleep shorts. “I told you… I wanted to taste you.” His shoulders shrugged as if it was common sense and yanked the thin fabric from your body. 

 You blushed as Dean looked down at the mess between your legs like a starving man. His eyes shifted to meet yours for a moment and leaned up to press a lingering kiss to your lips. The sweet action had your heart skipping a beat. “You are so beautiful.” 

He didn’t give you time to respond before his mouth kissed a line down the center of your chest and past your navel until he landed right above your clit. Dean let out a satisfied hum and used his hands to spread you wider for him. Your chest was heaving when he licked a thick stripe across your folds. “Fuck, still taste fucking sweet..” 

A moan left Dean’s mouth before he devoured. His tongue traced around your clit, before latching his lips over top and giving it a gentle suck. You were moaning his name like a prayer and racking your fingers through his hair, keeping his mouth secured against your cunt. You groaned when he inserted a finger into your hot channel. After a couple of thrusts, a second finger was added and you could feel the coiling tightening again. 

“C’mon baby. Cum all over mouth, let me taste you.” All it took was his words to throw you over the edge. The combination of his mouth and fingers was too much for you to handle. Your thighs shook from the aftershock of your orgasm and you could feel the sweat coating your skin. 

Your body went slack underneath Dean’s touch. His fingers left you but his thumb continued to trace lazy circles around your clit. Looking up at him, you blushed at the sight of your arousal coating his lips and chin. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes, Winchester.” 

One of his eyebrows quirked before he shifted off the bed again. “That so?” You smirked at him and eagerly nodded. Dean laughed and pulled his shirt from his body quickly followed by his sweatpants. The sight of Dean Winchester standing in front of you, naked, had your pussy clenching around nothing. He looked deliciously long and thick and you couldn’t wait to taste him later. “See something you like, sweetheart?” 

His signature arrogance was back but now you simply found it charming. It was no secret that Dean was bad at sex, by any means. He was allowed to be smug after what he just did to you. Dean took his time in crawling back over you, placing random kisses across your skin as if he had all the time in the world. Finally, he settled back between your legs and a satisfied sigh left your lips. 

“You ready?” He murmured against your lips and shifted a hand down to grip himself, teasing his head across your folds to lube himself. 

“Fuck me, Dean.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched as he slowly began pushing himself inside of you, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” His words were muffled against your lips, continuing to push further in until he was fully seated inside of you. You felt full, so incredibly full of Dean you couldn’t help but clench around him and wiggle your hips.

Dean growled and gripped your hip with one hand, seizing your movements. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.” He pulled out enough to only leave the tip inside of you before plunging back in. Both of you moaning at the sensation. “Such a hot little pussy.” Thrust. “Fits me like a fucking glove.” Thrust. 

The filthy words coming from his lips had you whimpering, unable to meet his thrusts due to the heavy hand on your hip. You were completely at his mercy. “Shit, Dean. Please… faster. I need you to move.” Your words were all the encouragement he needed.

Dean’s hips began snapping into yours, sounds of skin smacking filled the room, followed by your chanting of his name. It shouldn’t feel this damn good, like finally finding that missing puzzle piece. “Fuck, I’m close.” He grunted and his hand left your hip to let his fingers find your clit. The added sensation of his fingers had you seeing stars. “That’s right, honey. Cum on this fucking cock.”

Your head tossed back and a scream of his name filled the room as he pushed you over the edge. “Good girl… always such  a good girl for me.” Dean fucked you through your high, which was quickly followed by his own. He buried his face in the side of your neck and locked himself inside of you. 

Both of you were covered in sweat, bodies radiating heat. Dean collapsed on top of you with a huff. The added weight irritated your ribs but you were too blissed out to care. You placed a comforting kiss on his shoulder, which he mimicked on yours. 

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Dean leaned back to look at your euphoric expression. He smiled sweetly at you and moved his hand to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your skin. “You okay, sweetheart?” All you could manage was a nod and a smile. 

Before he cold respond, the familiar Metallica ringtone began blaring from Dean’s phone on the floor. With an annoyed eye roll, he pushed himself up and off of you. The sudden empty feeling had you whimpering. He gave you a quick sorry and pulled the phone from his pants. “Kind of a bad time, Sammy.” 

“Dean! I’ve been calling for thirty minutes, what are you doing?! You know what? Never mind, don’t answer that.”

The older Winchester pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you need, Sam?”

“I found the vampire’s nest.”

TAGS: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce  @tftumblin

[pengiesama]

The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag (Chapter 1) (Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo)

Title: The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary:

Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that's to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose's sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Notes:

Written for the Sorey/Mikleo 2019 Big Bang!

I partnered up with the wonderful Arivess @minstrels-ink​ and Nami; both of whom provided their artistic skills to complement my wack-ass ideas. I am eternally grateful to them.

Arivess's art is featured in Chapter 1! You can find her Tumblr here. Nami's art is featured in Chapter 2! You can find her Twitter here.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

“You’re lucky that you’re such a quick study on running in heels.”

“C’mon, Mikleo, is this really the time!?”

The hellion was fast – very fast – and easily closed in on whatever distance Sorey tried to put between them. His armatus with Mikleo was suited for sniping from afar, not for getting up close and personal with those rows and rows of sharp teeth. A change of tactics was needed, and – one body as they were – Sorey didn’t even need to speak the thought aloud before Mikleo helped him put the thought into action.

Sorey released his hold on the tether keeping them in the armatus, and felt Mikleo do the same. They split in two, and Mikleo allowed himself to be flung from Sorey’s sure and steady grip directly into the trunk of a tree. He vaulted gracefully off the trunk, and used the momentum to spring himself across the clearing and well out of the way of the rampaging hellion – and well out of the way of Sorey’s flaming sword.

“Fethmus Mioma!”

The flames illuminated the dark forest clearing, like morning’s light. The hellion shrank back, briefly stunned. Not that Sorey considered himself anything like an expert on hellions, but he’d never seen anything quite like this before. A wolf-headed hellion that stood at the height of three men, and had the approximate width of one of the emaciated famine victims that were such a common sight in towns these days. It was the width that was, perhaps, the most concerning – by any logic, it should have been wider, so much wider, to fit all the victims that it had been reported to have consumed. How could a hellion that devoured whole caravans of victims – stuffing them into the ever-drooling mouth, with its dozens of long, long arms – still be so grotesquely thin?

As always, Sorey’s certain tendency to get lost in his thoughts was something of a hindrance in battle. Luckily, there was someone still paying attention in this fight. The hellion was knocked over by a lucky hit from Rose and Edna’s armatus, and careened into a nearby tree with a dangerous-sounding crack. The tree lurched and toppled over, pinning the beast beneath it. Howling, the hellion tried to drag its body along the forest floor with those dozens of long arms; like a massive centipede that had been trapped beneath a giant boot. The air around the creature shimmered, and from the glinting aether, glowing chains sprang forth and bound the hellion (and the tree) more firmly into place. Zaveid landed atop the creature from where he’d been slinking about in the treetop cover, and struck a pose.

The hellion was too wounded to flee, too wounded to toss Zaveid off; too wounded and too mad with malevolence to do anything but crouch, drool, and snarl as Sorey and Lailah approached to attempt purification.

Rose wheezed in relief as she stumbled out of her armatus. She shook out her wrist, and flexed her fingers, as if testing to make sure they could still hold a knife.

“Geez! That thing’s skull was rock-hard. Felt like trying to put my fist through a wall…”

“You’re welcome to use your head next time if the Lady Edna’s holy fists aren’t cutting the mustard,” Edna replied drily. “I imagine it’s one of the only naturally-occurring elements that outrank them on the hardness scale.”

“I’m glad everyone’s feeling so energetic after that fight.” Mikleo finished up tending to Rose’s hand and arm with his healing artes, and surveyed the rest of the party judgmentally. “I take that to mean that no one will be whining at me when we head to the inn that their back hurts, then? I’d prefer to be bothered now than have to find out later…”

Sorey felt Mikleo’s stare burning into the back of his neck. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on finishing things up with Lailah and the hellion.

“Yanno, it’s almost a shame that we gotta purify this thing,” Zaveid said. He was still perched atop the hellion, and was holding the chains binding it like a pair of reins. “It’d make a pretty metal mount, don’t ya think? Roll up to a hot date riding this thing and you’ll have ‘em swooning.”

The hellion gave a pained shriek as the flames continued to burn away its tainted flesh. The acrid smell of it filled the night air. Its many limbs clawed at its face and neck, rending the skin there, as if mutilating itself was a relief in comparison to being healed of the corruption inside.

“The more we learn about you, Zaveid,” Mikleo said. “The more we understand you.”

“You’ll want to get down,” Lailah lightly called up to him.

Zaveid winked at her and made a little heart with his fingers. “Ooh, Lailah, no need to be so shy. C’mon up here, the weather’s fine—”

The flames had climbed up to where Zaveid stood, and the hellion’s constructed form finally collapsed in on itself like the frame of a burning house. Zaveid stumbled briefly before managing to catch himself on the superheated updraft of air and bounce off it to land on the ground with a…marginal amount of grace. Or at least without falling on his ass.

“How’s it looking?” Rose called over to Sorey and Lailah. “Human, animal, plant? Bunch of rocks glued together with googly eyes stuck on?”

Sorey took a deep breath to steady himself after the purification, and Mikleo was already behind him to grab at his shoulder. Steady as anything.

“Human,” Sorey said, finally. “Still alive. Not awake yet.”

“Peachy,” Rose said. “Much easier to interrogate a person. I’ve heard that the Sparrowfeathers’ boss is in quite a snit over all those shipments he’s gobbled up, and she’s dying for the full story.”

Which was, of course, part of why they were here. This particular hellion had been targeting caravans navigating this stretch of road between the border of Hyland and Rolance. The harrowing accounts of the survivors was motivation enough for Sorey and Rose to investigate and intervene, but Rose’s own motivation was given a bit of a nitro boost when she learned that several Sparrowfeather shipments had been delayed or lost due to the creature’s activity.

“…delayed…”

The man was waking up. He looked so terribly ordinary, in comparison to the nightmare that stalked the roads on a hundred limbs. He was dressed in simple traveling clothes. Thin cheeks, worn boots. Another person overcome by malevolence by starvation and resentment? He’d hardly be the first. But all he’d need was support, and –

“…delayed, delayed, delayed, delayed, can’t be late again, the boss said we can’t be late again, get the cargo—”

“Hold him down,” Rose said to Zaveid, before moving in herself.

“Anything for you, boss lady,” Zaveid said.

Chains glinted and held the man down, stopping him from thrashing while Rose grabbed his head on both sides and forced him to look at her.

“Hey. We’re passing through. Who’s this boss of yours? We’ll get the cargo to him on time.”

The man’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.

“No.”

He began to shake, then began to weep.

“Gone. Gone, they’re gone, they’re gone, we were supposed to deliver them to Hyland for sale but they’re gone and the boss he won’t like it he’ll know it was me and then Anne, Anne and the kids, they’ll—”

Zaveid pulled his chains tight, cutting the man off and binding him tighter to the ground.

“He’s gonna go hellion again if he gets himself worked up,” he barked at Rose. “And I sure as hell don’t like all this ‘them’ stuff with his ‘cargo’.”

Rose knew when to back down – that conversation was going nowhere fast, anyway. She wisely allowed Lailah to cast a spell that sent the man into the comparative relief of unconsciousness, and mulled over the facts they had.

“The Scattered Bones will take him into custody,” she said, finally.

“Custody?” Sorey said uneasily.

Rose leaned her head on her hand and looked at Sorey, one eyebrow raised. “You saw what happened the second he woke up. They’ll keep an eye on him at HQ and see if they can get the full story out of him.”

Sorey stared at the man for a moment, then swallowed hard. “And…try to help him?”

“As best as we can,” Rose replied, honestly. “You’ve seen this before, Sorey. People getting so desperate that they do things they can never forgive themselves for. He might wake up with a new lease on life, and we’ll put him to work in the company. Or he might wake up and immediately go creepy-crawly again the second he remembers what he’s done. Sometimes you just need to—”

“I get it,” Sorey cut her off. “But…we can’t just…he mentioned a boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” A slow, dangerous smile spread across Rose’s face. “We’re not done with them just yet.”

Lailah ahemed lightly, and glided forward.

“The man is purified. The Shepherd’s duty is finished,” she said. “Shall we discuss our next moves in a more…hospitable area?”

“Let’s rest at the inn a while,” Mikleo said.

His hand was a comfort and anchor on Sorey’s back. He allowed himself to lean into it, and be guided by Mikleo’s sure current.

 -

--

 “So, good news first,” Rose began. “It didn’t take long for us to get info on this boss guy.”

But Rose’s tone did not, in fact, indicate that the news was quite as good as all that. Things never seemed to be quite so simple, anymore.

“And the bad news?” Mikleo asked, voicing Sorey’s thoughts aloud.

Rose threw herself onto the inn bed and leaned back on her arms.

“Hooboy. Where to start? The bad news, the REALLY bad news, or the damn inconvenient news?”

“Ooh, now you’ve gotten me all excited.” Edna’s face was utterly expressionless, and her tone likewise. She was perched atop the inn’s tall wooden wardrobe; the vantage point allowing her to better beam her disdain at those below like a judgmental gargoyle. “Spill the beans before I perish from anticipation.”

Rose squinted up at her. “…how did you get…anyway. So. Our friend was part of a black market smuggling operation. First it was just contraband goods, and then they branched out into human trafficking – that was when his conscience caught up with him and he started chowing down on his coworkers and stalking the highways. He was pretty low on the ladder and didn’t know much about the guys really running it; he only ever had contact with cronies. But everything he told us lines up with cases that we’ve been monitoring for months. This ring isn’t just limited to a few scattered caravans on rural backroads. We’ve got reports of it being tied to activity across Hyland and Rolance, which let me tell you, will do peace talks no favors. Hyland’s gonna blame Rolance and Rolance’s gonna blame Hyland and so on.”

“…so, was that the bad news, the really bad news, or the inconvenient news?” asked Sorey.

“It’s all blended together in an intricate tapestry of unfortunateness,” Rose said. “So on one hand, it is Hyland’s fault. All of our sources are pointing to one of their nobles being the ringleader behind it all – his eminence Lord Mardoc of House Melwas. House Melwas owns most of the shipping lines nearest to Rolance’s borders, so the infrastructure was already there for him to pull this off. But on the other hand, even though he’s footing the bills and reaping the profits, these kinds of enterprises tend to be…group ventures. Especially when they’ve got a reach as wide as this. It’s not gonna go away completely even if we manage to take the boss chump down.”

“Even if we were to apprehend everyone involved, Hyland and Rolance would need to work together to extradite the accused and bring them to trial,” Mikleo said. “It could take years.”

“And that’s assuming Rolance will play nice,” Rose added. “Bet they’d only be too happy to set the blame totally on Hyland’s shoulders.”

“So…I guess it’s up to the Shepherd, then?” Sorey said, softly.

There was historical precedent for such a thing: Shepherds, mediating international disputes as the neutral third parties they were always intended to be. Sorey could rattle off at least three or four such incidents off the top of his head – one of them even involved digging up the skeleton of a previous Rolance pope to put it on trial. (The skeleton, judged guilty, was stripped of its papal hat and frockery and then beheaded. Sorey often wondered if any of that was truly necessary.) But reading about it in history books was one thing, and being expected to live it himself was…quite another.

A long, drawn-out fight amongst a bunch of squabbling politicians and nobles, all trying to point fingers while the world around them was falling apart. When the cards were laid out on the table like this, the odds seemed…almost insurmountable. Sorey’s shoulders drooped with the weight of his thoughts. Mikleo’s cool hand on his nape was all that kept him from sinking too deeply into a place that would be hard to return from. Here be darkness, and skeleton popes.

“And you guys wonder why I went into customer service,” said Rose.

“Just want to note that it’s so convenient that your little gossip crew dug up so much dirt so fast,” Edna commented drily. “Almost like they’ve been sitting on said dirt for a while, doing nothing about it until it got inconvenient. Like when it was your turn to get your shipments munched on.”

Edna, unfortunately, always seemed to know how to hit where it hurt. She zeroed in on weak points so easily: Mikleo’s height, Zaveid’s receding hairline, Rose’s sense of justice. Sorey’s heart twisted unhappily at the sight of Rose’s knuckles fisted in the bedspread.

“Kinda feels like that, doesn’t it?” Rose finally said. She lifted her head, wearing a thoughtful expression. “You know, we’d joked for the longest time that we should start invoicing the Hyland knights, since we were doing their jobs for them – upholding the peace and all that. But it seems like we’ve gotten a little lax lately.”

“Rose,” Mikleo said. “It’s not your job to police Hyland’s laws. You can’t take all that responsibility on yourself.

Sorey couldn’t help but sense that comment wasn’t just directed at Rose, for some reason. (Like the fact that Mikleo’s hand found his own when he said it, and squeezed tight.) Still, Rose didn’t exactly seem to take the advice to heart. She jumped to her feet, and set her hands to her hips; a grin plastered to her face.

“It’s a matter of customer service at this point,” Rose said. “The Scattered Bones can’t refuse to investigate a direct request, now can they?”

Sorey blinked. “A direct request? From who?”

“Our friend from last night. Remember? Eight feet tall, big and scary, sharp teeth, loads of arms?”

“I don’t remember him asking anything,” Sorey replied, dubious.

“He definitely didn’t,” Mikleo agreed. “He yelled a bit and then passed out. I’d wager his hellion form was much taller than a mere eight feet, as well.”

“Guys,” Rose groaned. “A little bit of room for interpretation, please. Plus, if this Mardoc guy really is behind this operation, his homebase is probably lousy with malevolence – cleaning that up is right up our alley. So what do you say; wanna do a house-call at Chateau Melwas? It’s on the outskirts of—”

Sorey startled at Rose’s question, suddenly remembering something very important – something absolutely vital. He seized Mikleo’s wrist, urgently.

“Wait! Chateau Melwas. Of course; we only ever saw it written out like that, but of course it’d be owned by House Melwas!”

Mikleo’s eyes went huge, and he seized Sorey’s wrist right back.

“You’re right! It’s only logical. Chateau Melwas, built atop the underground Baudemagus Cathedral. An architectural marvel, built with a mix of Hyland and Rolance techniques to keep its structural integrity. It’s been sealed off for centuries from the public.”

“We could see the archivolts,” Sorey whispered urgently.

“We could see the archivolts,” Mikleo agreed, just as urgently. For just a moment, his gaze grew distant and vacant, as if he was wholly lost in thoughts of archivolts. Sorey could relate. He could so, so relate.

“I know I should be more careful about what I say, but I just don’t ever know what’s going to set them off…” Rose lamented. She looked up at Edna. “Wanna help me find Lailah and Zaveid so we can start brainstorming?”

Edna hopped down from her perch. “I’ll take any opportunity to get out of this room, no matter how unpleasant. Circumstances must.”

 --

 They were to infiltrate the chateau of House Melwas, to gather evidence and evaluate the truth of the claims against Lord Mardoc (and admire some archivolts in the process). Luckily for them, they had stumbled upon this mission during a most fortuitous time – Lord Mardoc was opening Chateau Melwas for a masquerade ball. It would be the best chance they’d get to investigate…and, perhaps, the only chance.

To an outside observer, the cards would seem to be stacked in Sorey’s favor. Not only would he have the noise and bustle of the masquerade to hide his movements, but he also had a master assassin and four magical invisible friends to back him up. Surely it would be child’s play for the almighty Shepherd.

Unfortunately, there were a few handicaps in play that evened the odds:

One: Sorey, even at this point in his short career, had become quite recognizable as the Shepherd.

Two: Rose, having a long and storied career as one of the continent’s most successful capitalists, was even more recognizable.

Being that they were famous-slash-infamous, it called for them to attend undercover – after all, if it was discovered that the Shepherd was in attendance, Mardoc would surely rush to dispose of any evidence of his illicit activities, making their entire search fruitless.

Surely a masquerade would make undercover activity simple…if it were not for the final handicap:

Three: Sorey was an absolutely wretched actor, and was sure to give away the game in a matter of seconds.

Thus, this called for a more stealthy infiltration. To this end, they tested out Mikleo’s talents in the safety of their base of operations (being their room at the inn).

“Uh…” Rose frowned, looking Sorey over critically. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Sorey was invisible…in some places. One arm, then the fingers of his other hand, and his torso. His right leg blinked back into view, then disappeared again, then slowly regained its opacity once more as the seconds ticked by.

“Just…give me a minute…” Mikleo said through gritted teeth. He was visibly shaking from the effort of keeping up the spell for so long. His skin was even paler than normal, and was beaded with sweat.

Sorey appeared to be torn between the urge to rush over to Mikleo’s side to support him, and the urge to stay in place as firmly instructed by Mikleo at the start of the experiment.

“Mikleo,” Sorey pleaded. “We’ve got backup options, you know?”

“Like what?” Mikleo snapped. He briefly lost his hold on the spell, and Sorey’s torso flickered. “Put a bedsheet over your head and pretend to be ghosts haunting the grounds?”

Rose shivered. “Gonna veto that one. Hard.”

Edna made a sympathetic noise, and patted Rose’s shoulder. “You’re so right, Rose. That’d be so inconsiderate to all the ghosts that probably already haunt that moldy old underground cathedral. Don’t wanna stir them up.”

Rose wailed and immediately retreated under the bed.

Lailah, finally, set a hand on Mikleo’s should and bade him to stop. Exhausted, Mikleo released the spell and leaned heavily on his staff. Sorey rushed over on his reappearing limbs to offer his support, and lead him to sit on the bed that Rose was currently lurking beneath.

“It was well worth attempting, but I must advise overexerting ourselves on this venture,” Lailah said. “Chateau Melwas is well outside of Ladylake’s jurisdiction – and as such, well outside of the reach of Lord Uno’s protective domain. The malevolence is thick here, our powers dampened with it. It would be dangerous indeed to take risks.”

“Back in the day, I’d just…dash up the walls and in through the windows, in and out like a shot…” Sorey heard Rose quietly musing underneath the bed. It seemed like she was mostly talking to herself. “Can’t really do that anymore, can I? Zaveid, he just doesn’t get my style, not like you did…”

Sorey squeezed Mikleo’s shoulder, and tried to get him to catch his eye.

“Rain check on cloak practice?” he asked, hopefully. “Maybe when we’re in a place where the air’s a bit cleaner?”

Mikleo would not, however, catch his eye, and sullenly wriggled his shoulder out of Sorey’s hold. Sorey’s heart sank.

Seeing Mikleo’s already-sour mood, Edna clicked her tongue, ready to make things worse, as usual.

“Why must we bank our hopes on the powers of a single frail Meebo?” she asked. “Just tart Sorey up in something pretty and have him flash the bouncers some leg at the door.”

She clearly did not mean this statement in earnest. She clearly meant it as a joke, as a way to needle Mikleo for being unable to live up to his own unreasonably high standards of personal achievement; to get him riled up enough to stop stewing in self-pity.

But there came a rumble from beneath the bed.

Rose scuttled out from her dark domain on all fours; her hair and eyes wild with inspiration.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “That’s our game. We dress in drag and crash this party.”

This bizarre conclusion at least seemed to break Mikleo out of his sulk. He stared at her, baffled.

“…you’ll do what?”

Rose grabbed Sorey by the shoulder with one hand, and grabbed his chin in the other. She presented him to the rest of the group thusly, very proud of herself.

“I present to you: Lady Soreyella Sparrowfeather, with her dashing older brother, Lord Roseino Sparrowfeather. We are young single nouveau riche siblings travelling the world on our mamá and papá’s dime, looking for fun, excitement, and a suitor who will treat my naïve little sister like the delicate, squishy little cream puff she is.”

“…Okay,” Mikleo said, once he was sure Rose was finished. “Just give me a few minutes and we can try the cloaking arte again. I know that if I can just get a handle on the light refraction, I’ll be able to keep it up for as long as we need…”

Mikleo trailed off. The atmosphere of the room had changed palpably with Rose’s suggestion – it seemed to burn alight with an excitement that tingled the skin. The source of the burning flame was unmistakable: Lailah seemed to almost be hovering above the floor, and was wreathed in a holy aura of light. She clasped her hands together, and lifted them upwards, a prayer to the heavens.

“Splendid,” she whispered. “Oh, how splendid indeed. An undercover mission – not only under the cover of night, but also under cover of the finest finery!”

Mikleo wondered if it would be out of line for him to walk over and tug Lailah back down to have both her feet on the floor. Surely it would be within Sorey’s rights as Shepherd…but what would stop her from arising once more? Would it be better to simply tie a string to her ankle so she didn’t accidentally float away? These questions were all important ones, but they were secondary to the more salient question of the moment:

“Are you forgetting Lastonbell?” Mikleo asked. “Our resident provincial lard? Hello? Oh, not him too…”

Zaveid had joined Lailah in her conference approximately six inches above the flooring, his excitement equally as evident.

“Food, wine, gorgeous sights to see,” Zaveid whispered mistily. “Ladies beckoning with their burning gazes from across the crowded dance hall.”

It was becoming clear that the vote was heading in a certain direction; that direction being “Sorey and Rose crossdressing to crash a party”. Edna smirked at Mikleo and Sorey devilishly.

“Rose’s suggestion really just is so splendid, and the Lady Edna wholeheartedly supports it.” Edna twirled her umbrella as she spoke. “She simply cannot wait to see the Shepherd traipsing about in a shimmering gown and heels, resembling a graceful overdressed cupcake. He will blend right in with the buffet table and remain utterly undetectable. The perfect plan.”

Mikleo gaped at Sorey, speechless. Sorey, for his part, seemed resigned to his fate. He sighed heavily.

“If you guys think it’ll work, I’ll do it,” Sorey said. “But I don’t…I don’t really know anything about, well…any of this. Dancing, and balls, and dressing up…”

Lailah and Zaveid floated over to Sorey, and both took one of his hands in their own, tenderly.

“Fear not,” they spoke in unison. “For we will be at your side.”

“I know,” Sorey assured them. “You always are. But I’ll feel a little, well…out of place…”

Lailah’s grip tightened, and she leaned in, her eyes blazing.

“Please understand, Shepherd Sorey,” she said. “We will be by your side, all of us, in finery as fine as yours.”

Edna’s umbrella stopped twirling. “Excuse me?” she asked flatly.

Zaveid rose several more inches off the floor in his excitement. “You mean…”

“With the powers invested in me by the Lord Maotelus, I decree as Prime Lord that we shall all be disguised in a similar method, alongside the Shepherd and Squire.” Lailah’s voice was clear, commanding – it seemed to echo off the walls of the inn as if the walls were made of the resonant marble of a cathedral instead of ordinary wood. “It is our duty as seraphim to assist the Shepherd in all things, to show solidarity and share in his trials.”

“Pass,” Edna said, then shrieked aloud repeatedly as she was forcibly levitated off the ground to join Lailah and Zaveid.

“Guess you shouldn’t have voted for such a splendid plan if you weren’t willing to participate,” Mikleo wearily commented. He, too, was also being lifted off the ground by an invisible force gripping his capes and dangling him like a scruffed cat.

“Um,” Sorey said. “I really appreciate the company, but…isn’t the masquerade in less than a week? Can we find someone who can make outfits for everyone on such short notice? Especially outfits for, well, someone they can’t even really see…”

Rose threw her arm around Sorey’s shoulder (with some effort, considering the height difference and the fact that she was not currently taking part in the levitation fiesta).

“Sorey, Sorey, Sorey. Are you forgetting who you’re dealing with here?” Rose said. “The Sparrowfeathers have their ways. We just need to hit up this one tailor that owes me a favor or three…”

 -

--

 It was, of course, in Lastonbell that they found this tailor – the city of artisans was home to the most skilled hands on the continent, no matter what the craft. Rose smiled charmingly at the woman who answered the door. The smile was met with a weary stare.

“Ella,” Rose said. “Have I got a project for you.”

Ella slowly tried shutting the door, but Rose wedged her foot in before she could manage.

“Now, now, don’t try to be shy about it; we both know that you’re always excited to do work for me! Like I was saying, I’ve got a project and I just know you’re the only person who can pull it off. Don’t leave me out in the cold, here!”

Ella sighed tiredly. “I’ve told you a thousand times that there’s a limit to what those suits are designed to withstand. A little blood, the sealant can handle. You get sloppy, you get stains.”

Sorey could hazard a guess at how Rose had made the acquaintance of this woman. Rose huffed in irritation.

“Why do you always think I’m here about our suits? I’ve got other stuff on my plate, you know.”

“I also already told you that I can’t make them withstand deep ocean pressure.”

“We can talk about that again later!” Rose muscled her way in through the door, pulling Sorey along behind her. “Right now I need you to make six people look very pretty. Four of them are invisible. Also we’re all crossdressing and in disguise.”

Ella processed Rose’s words, and the situation she was presented. On her worktable, a pencil lifted, and began to sketch fervently on the sketchpad there. After a few moments, the pencil paused, and the sketchpad floated over to present itself to Ella for review. Ella leaned in, squinting through her thick glasses at the designs the phantom pencil had drafted for her. Finally, she shrugged.

“Whatever.” She went to fetch her measuring tape and some paper for notes. “As long as you keep giving me discounts on fabric.”

 --

 The day of the masquerade had arrived, and their disguises had arrived to their inn room, not a moment too soon.

“Your tailor friend worked so tirelessly, day and night,” Lailah said with a note of concern, even as she was visibly itching to tear into the carefully-wrapped packages. “I do hope that she didn’t exhaust herself.”

“She gets like that when she’s inspired,” Rose explained. “And it’s not like she did it out of the goodness of her heart. She gets first pick on any of our textile shipments, and every completed commission is a punch on her Scattered Bones loyalty card. Ten punches and she gets a free assassination request.”

The room became palpably awkward. Rose sighed aloud.

“Joking,” she said. “Not about the shipment thing though.”

“We just wonder sometimes…” Mikleo mumbled.

It was the moment of truth. The fashion show of the century. The couture reckoning.  

Rose posed with her booted leg on a footrest. She looked sleek, debonair – her fitted suit hid her curves, but could not quite flatten her entirely; giving her a silhouette that would steal the attention of men and women alike. The suit was a reddish-pink the color of the sky at twilight, and the fabric shone and shimmered luxuriously in the candlelight. She looked inarguably well put-together, but had an air of the rogue. Her red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she wore a black handlebar moustache for…some reason.

“A moustache is not a toy,” chided Lailah.

Lailah looked as elegant as ever, and as understated as ever – that was to say, not understated whatsoever. It was a known fact in the study of zoology that the male of a species was very frequently the most glamorously-dressed, and while it was doubtful that Lailah had much interest in the field, perhaps she’d once travelled with someone who did. Or maybe she just saw a peacock one time, and thought, Yes! That is what I want to look like if I ever had to crossdress for a villain’s masquerade ball! Her ruby-red suit’s tails trailed behind her like a bird’s tailfeathers, and the ensemble positively dripped with white lace and golden filigree. Her hair was pulled back into its customary ponytail, but was braided through with red ribbon. Despite her admonishing Rose for moustache crimes, she herself wore a gaudy, dandy top hat atop her head.

“I swear on my last breath that I will smear jam all over this cravat and hide it in your bed at night,” Edna hissed.

Edna…well. Perhaps it was karmic consequence that had landed her in her current outfit, or perhaps it was her complete refusal to work with Ella and pay more than a scornful glance to the outfit designs that Lailah had drafted. She looked like the precious darling scion of a hallowed aristocratic house. She was absolutely drowning in frills and lace, in bows and cravats. Though the design was intended to bring to mind a sailor suit, a rock would have looked more seaworthy.

“You cut a distinguishing figure,” Lailah said sincerely. Rose cackled and twirled her moustache.

Visibly miserable, Edna yanked and tugged at the white stockings that she wore under her bloomers. “I haven’t worn pants in years. If I suffocate tonight I’m going to smear jam all over these tights and—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” Rose twirled her moustache once more for good measure. “Gentlemen, or should I say, gentleladies! You’re up!”

Zaveid’s leg was the first thing that could be seen in the doorway – his bare leg, sporting a gun holster hooked to his garter. He whirled into view, pressing his whole body up against the doorframe, posing like a femme fatale from a trashy stage play. Ella probably did not need to spend much time on his ensemble, considering how…little there was of it. It showcased his entire back, and bared cleavage to the point of obscenity. The sides were slit up to his hips, allowing him to showcase the curve of his ass with very little trouble. Despite the…lack of modesty, he didn’t look bad. It was just…

“I thought we were trying to not call attention to ourselves?” Edna commented flatly.

“You think about how we’d manage that with Zaveid, and you get back to me,” Rose said.

“I’m just…too much…to ignore…” Zaveid said breathily, fluttering his eyelashes on every syllable.

Despite herself, Edna had to give her that one.

“Um,” Sorey’s voice called from the hallway. “Can you guys tell me if I put this on right? I think I’ve got some leftover sashes…”

The group was stunned to silence as Sorey entered the room. It was not as though they expected Sorey to look bad in his disguise. They just didn’t expect him to look this good. Ella had outdone herself. The white bodice, trimmed with blue and gold embroidery, served two important functions: it cinched Sorey’s waist, and pushed up his already fairly large chest to create the illusion of a voluminous bosom. On the other hand, Ella chose not to hide Sorey’s broad shoulders and muscled arms; instead flattering and showcasing them with cutout shoulders and draping sleeves. The blond wig on his head framed his face charmingly; when Sorey gave a shy, awkward smile, those present in the room felt as though a thousand arrows hit their hearts.

“It’s a little tight, you know, in…this area.” Sorey gestured to his honkers. “But I really like the skirts! Did you tell Ella how much I love flappy capes?”

His practice in the armatus gave him the grace and balance to twirl in his heels, allowing the long, flowing skirts to float around him like a princess from a fairytale.

“Your tailor girl’s a magician,” Zaveid said with a note of wonder in his voice. “Man. If she made Sorey look like such a sweet little thing, just think about…”

He trailed off, but everyone knew exactly to whom he was referring. They looked towards the door, on the edge of their seats.

Secretly, everyone really had been looking forward to seeing Mikleo all dolled up—

“Mikleo! Come out, please!” Sorey pleaded. “I wanna see how pretty you look!”

…okay, “secretly” for everyone except Sorey, who was always extremely loud about all things Mikleo. But the fact remained: Mikleo was already stunning enough, with his snow-white skin and striking violet eyes, with his tiny waist and delicate features. Expectations were high, and were only made higher by the clear demonstration of Ella’s skills.

“I took a sneak peek at the dress Miss Ella sent for him,” Lailah sighed aloud as she spoke. “Truly lovely! Mikleo will be a vision in it.”

This assurance only served to heighten the excitement in the room, and served to make Sorey nearly start vibrating in place. They heard a grumble and the sound of footsteps from the hallway, and Mikleo stepped into the room…

…

…well.

“Are you happy now?” Mikleo spat, crossing his arms. That snow-white skin of his was cherry red, from the tips of his ears to his chest.

The dress was indeed beautiful, and was fitted to Mikleo’s envious figure perfectly. His waist, dainty as ever, was only made lovelier by the finely-embroidered and ribboned bodice. The sleeves and skirts flowed like water, shimmering in the room’s candlelight like a pond reflecting the sun. The colors of the fabric complemented his fair complexion perfectly – it was as though a fairy of ice and snow had descended to bless them with a crisp winter’s day.

However, the enchanting effect was seriously spoiled by the sour and uncomfortable look on Mikleo’s face, and the stiffness in the way that he moved. He walked like he was on stilts, and turned in place like he had sacks of barley tied to his hips. It was abundantly clear that skirts and heels did not agree with him on a personal or spiritual level. Putting a beautiful swan in a beautiful dress resulted in something that was less than the sum of its parts. And resulted in a pissed-off swan.

Sorey sighed dreamily, and swept over in his skirts to twirl around the room with Mikleo – Sorey, moving with effortless charm, and Mikleo, moving like a flailing fish.

“You look so great! Doesn’t he!?” Sorey asked the room, though he wouldn’t have heard any answer they gave, so lost he was in their twirling. “If only everyone in that whole ballroom could see you, I bet they’d just look at you and go, ‘wow’…”

At least now Mikleo was pouting, rather than scowling. It made him look marginally more presentable.

“…well, now that the two of us look so dashing,” Rose said, trying to get the subject onto something that wouldn’t horribly offend Sorey. “I think we’re ready to crash that party.”

“As long as our Cupcake Shepherd keeps his mouth shut,” Edna mumbled. She was lying face-down on the inn floor to indicate her displeasure at everything around her.

��Yeah, well, if things go well, Soreyella Sparrowfeather won’t need to do much talking at all,” Rose said. “Roseino will distract all those guests with his charm and tales of adventure, while Soreyella and Miklette slip out to investigate the building and get some evidence of Mardoc’s extracurricular business ventures.”

“Mikleo,” Mikleo harshly corrected. “Will escort Sorey. Without these stupid—pointless—”

In a fit of fury, Mikleo tore off one heeled shoe and threw it across the room. He then hobbled out of the room, one heel still on, grumbling as he lurched back to his own room to find his normal footwear. Sorey gathered up his skirts and hurried after him like a practiced maiden.

The stage was set, and the cast were in costume and ready for their cue. But the question remained: even with evidence at hand, what could be done if Hyland insisted on ignoring the crimes of its nobility?

(Art by Arivess!)

[teatin]

I'm making my own in-my-head-reboot. I'm a definite Diana/Steve fan. But I just can't decided on the time frame for the relationship. There's potential in a quickly-building romance, and there's potential in a longer-term knowledge of each other before going down that road. I do want an immediate connection of some sort, though. FTR, other trinity setups are Lois in the know from almost day one, and Selina not actually dating until Tim's teen days. What speed do you like for these two?

Hey there!

I think my ideal Steve/Diana development would look something like this: They meet on Themyscira, and there’s an immediate connection. Not a physical attraction, mind you, though that in and of itself wouldn’t be a bad thing. Diana, ever curious about the outside world, starts visiting the recuperating soldier, and through trading stories, she learns of his mission and why he crashed on the shores of her home. She’s fascinated by the fact that for all of their differences, he shares the morals and ideals that the Amazons have instilled in her ever since she was a little girl: Courage, kindness, and the tenacity to do what is right no matter the cost. It also helps that Steve’s naturally charming and easy to get along with.

Steve, for his part, is equally fascinated with the young Amazon who saved his life. After all, his first recollections after regaining consciousness are of her face, gazing down on him, the sun shining like a halo crowning her head. As he recovers, he greatly appreciates the company of the princess, the only Amazon on the island who looks at him with curiosity instead of hostility or suspicion. He doesn’t blame them, of course, but it’s still nice to see a friendly face.

However, they don’t act on their attraction until they’ve been in Man’s World for a while. This could range anywhere from a few months to a year. Ever since becoming Wonder Woman, Diana has been feeling the scrutiny of the public eye. People either put her on a pedestal as a goddess, or dismiss her as just another alien. Either way, she is seen as Other, an ousider who will never truly belong. It pains her to realize that this is not much different from the way she was treated on Themyscira; though she was very much beloved, she was still their princess. Though she fought alongside her sisters, every mention that she was molded from clay only served as a stark reminder that she was Different. But not to Steve. He is the only person to know her not as Princess of Themyscira, Queen Hippolyta’s daughter, but as Diana. He is the only person who knows who she was before she became Wonder Woman, beacon of hope and unstoppable force of good. For him, she’ll always be Diana.

Maybe one day they’ve just finished a mission together. Breathless and high on adrenaline, they give in to their budding attraction that’s been bubbling under the surface for months. From then on, they become one of those couples that don’t even try to hide how utterly lovestruck they are. The first time they are seen together in front of their friends, the entire room is filled with the rustling of everyone passing Etta twenty dollar bills.

This is definitely way more than you asked for, but I feel like you can’t really map out a timeframe for them getting into a relationship without fleshing out these kind of details, yanno?

[tokidokifish]

okay i’m home now so here are my ACTUAL thoughts on far from home. spoilers, obvs.

first of all i attended the showing dressed in a wonder woman themed outfit, which i feel was something of a power move on my part

anyhow, it was better than endgame by like a lot, but that was a low bar to clear. like at least there was stuff to enjoy, yanno? i didn’t have to discord call a friend to laugh hysterically about it on the way home. i liked more than i hated and at least it didn’t just randomly fridge women.

it was also better than homecoming. again, not exactly hard. 

(at least he was kind of protecting people instead of property most of the time)

i mean when he wasn’t just trying to hold shit up with webs. like why is that his fucking go to? there’s a rampaging lava monster coming at civilians, dumbass: MOVE THEM. 

i actually don’t think peter got between an enemy and a person in danger that entire movie, actually, now that i think about it. like i get that he’s new at this and kind of sucks still, but i wish these movies would stop being all about peter’s relationship with tony and more about him learning how to be a fucking effective superhero, oh my god. 

speaking of, actually: so uncle ben just isn’t a thing in this universe huh? just like not a thing at all. i mean i know he wasn’t mentioned in homecoming but i thought that was just bc they didn’t wanna go into the uncle ben thing right off the bat AGAIN, but no, tony is still the Most Important figure in peter’s life, it’s fine, it’s fine.

i honestly find the whole “he’s the new tony stark” to be super off-putting as a storyline. like the movie trots out that line abt how no one is going to live up to tony stark like it’s gonna support peter being a hero in his own right, but then no, he starts interacting with his tech EXACTLY like tony and happy puts on fuckin ac/dc and it is honestly so BAD i HATE IT.

i mean between stripping away comics!peter’s personality, backstory, self-reliance, and interpersonal relationships, this really is just some rando white boy that happens to share the same name, huh?

anyhow: once again peter barely interacts with his love interest who is Totally Into That for some reason.

i mean it’s better. at least he knows shit about mj, enough to plan a very thoughtful gift for her. but like there’s no build up? like last movie he was way into liz, now he’s WAY into mj. it feels like i missed a movie in there, with how sudden it is. i honestly don’t mind the relationship, but i could like actually enjoy it if they took the time to flesh it out.

for all that bullshit abt how peter is often the “smartest guy in the room”, what the fuck did he think was gonna happen when he told tony stark’s ai - an ai belonging to TONY STARK, who gave a goddamn child a suit with an “instant kill” function - that one of his classmates was a “target”?

speaking of: hey, why are all peter’s bullies poc? 

i did like what they did w mysterio, given how much augmented reality is becoming a Thing these days. like having him be in a mocap suit for the entirety of the big fight is really fitting somehow. 

i wish i could have enjoyed mysterio’s big illusion number a lil more but the constant cgi was a little tiresome.

tho peter getting hit by a fucking TRAIN - power move, honestly. on peter’s part, too, considering he fucking SURVIVED - which, btw, made how often mysterio continued to write him off as a non-threat in the final battle fucking HILARIOUS. you hit him with a TRAIN and he SURVIVED, quentin, at least check the fucking body! god, what a dumbass. very true to mysterio, tho - being a dumbass, i mean. 

jake gyllenhaal is so goddamn likeable it’s insane. like i figured his story was bullshit from the go (because duh, it’s mysterio) but i couldn’t really blame peter for falling for it.

i could blame fury and hill, but it looks like they’re putting that “____ was actually a skrull” cart out early.  

(that’s okay i honestly love talos)

nice that they just accepted no one would ever play j jonah better than j k simmons so they just recast him

at first i was like “well at least mysterio’s team were bros keeping peter’s face out of this frame-up” but then nah, they’re total dicks

edit: i saw something pointing out that when fury says "don't invoke her name!" when peter brings up captain marvel that it’s actually talos, aka the guy she helped reunite with his family and escape the kree, and now i’m Emotional. goddamn i love what they did with the skrulls in captain marvel that’s such a fucking GOOD MOVIE.

FINAL UPDATE I SWEAR: that also means that when maria shot that drone that was menacing fury it was actually soren protecting her husband, who did not for a SECOND doubt that she had that shit on lock.

additional edit: ppl are wondering if mysterio is really dead and GOOD FUCKING QUESTION, considering peter didn’t even check for a pulse. i mean yeah, all the illusions were gone, but a dude can still play dead, peter.