#temporary wearer

[j-fashion-wearer-otd]

Today's temporary J-fashion wearer is the Digital Stars Miku and Gumi version of Hatsune Miku! She wears uchuu kei with some girly kei elements!

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I think many people understand the idea that disability can be a social problem, even construct, in that as more visibility man lead to more accommodations and even educate (regardless of accuracy), but not that disability can still disable regardless of society. Many people understand the idea of a social construct so long as there is still a consise understanding of the social construct, with little wriggle room for nuance and discussion.

[heilos]

Living Harmony AU relevant character sheets/info: Harmony aka the "Tree of Harmony" Stygian Somnambula Starswirl the Bearded Shadow Lock is actually an official canon character from the IDW comics No. 51-53 and I really enjoyed his mini arc introduction enough to include him as a more significant part of my "Living Harmony" MLP AU animation project. When I found out he's a direct descendant of Stygian, one of the Pillars of Equestria, I had to find a way to work him in and give him a bit of an updated design to fit more into my story setting I have planned. My good friend Ori helped vector my finalized concept redesign in the very top image. Listed below is some character and story context for these sketches provided by my myself and Ori who's been a huge help in fleshing out the world building with this cast of characters I'm using in this AU so far. Shadow Lock's main abilities and canon backstory are expanded upon and/or flavored a bit differently here as well.

Stygian��s distant descendant, the last living branch in his family tree

Lives alone in his family’s castle after they retired to the town of Somnambula

Temporary antagonist to the mane 6 that stems from a fear of the Pony of Shadows returning to plague Equestria

Believed he was descended from a monster and desperately tried to erase any mention of the Pony of Shadows from written history

Was talked down from his history erasing spree by Twilight and ends up traveling around Equestria to find more info on the Pony of Shadows, without trying to erase the knowledge this time, and prevent it from returning

The symbol on the front of Shadow Lock’s cloak is his family crest that dates back to Stygian's time period.

There’s a glamor woven into Shadow Lock’s cloak that enshrouds its wearer’s face.

Shadow Lock’s special talent is the concealment and binding of dark magic. He can effectively bind malevolent “spirits” into vessels where they’re unable to cause harm. This can also be reversed as an unbinding spell. ("spirits" in this context are more like a culmination of lingering, concentrated dark magic that takes on a will of its own)

His family castle used to be quite “haunted”. It’s quieter nowadays, but he does have a large collection of miscellaneous items that most ponies would consider “cursed…”

Always carries a healthy stack of books on his person to read and use as a weapon. His spells can pull fictional characters and monsters from stories to fight for him

Created a spell that can trap a creature into experiencing a historical event on loop by using a small amount of written text. The spell can be broken by doing something significant enough that did not occur during the looped event in history.

Shadow Lock and Stygian are extremely hesitant to meet each other at first in present time. The mane 6 and Harmony step in as mediator eventually to help them work out their issues so they can reconnect as family

Much later in the story, Shadow Lock invites Stygian to live in his castle once their family relationship is repaired, the two becoming inseparable

His original design from the comics:

[swappermanent]

Life In Retrospect (Part 2)

I ran my fingers along my neck again, as if expecting it to suddenly materialize, but all I felt was smooth, muscular skin. If the necklace was gone... did that mean this was permanent? The thought hit me like a jolt of electricity, raising my cock to attention.

I hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought I wanted something so drastic. But now that it had happened—now that I was staring at the face and body of a man who was young, powerful, and exuded raw sexuality—I could see exactly why this was the wish the necklace had granted. Deep down, beneath the polite smiles and quiet resignation of age, I’d wanted this more than I could admit.

And seeing it, feeling it now… I knew it was right. This body was wasted on Mikey. But now, the thick mustache, the powerful jaw, massive shoulders, the rich, dark hair—they were all mine. All mine.

My hand drifted lower, sliding down over my—his—flat stomach until I felt the warm thickness of his cock, already hard in my grip. I moved to the bed, sinking down onto it as I leaned back and let my hands continue exploring. With one hand stroking my cock slowly, I used the other to feel up my smooth, firm chest, indulging in the primal thrill.

The pleasure built quickly, my breaths coming in shallow gasps, my new voice low and rough as I gave in completely. I stroked myself with a steady rhythm, feeling the warmth pooling in my core, spreading through every muscle, every inch of skin. The sensation was dizzying, almost overwhelming. Finally, I cameMy body tensed, a shudder running through me as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and grinning at the ceiling as I ran a finger across my stomach and brought it up to my mouth for my first taste. Fuck I could get used to this.

---

I settled into Mikey's life with surprising ease. The next few days were a whirlwind of hanging out with his friends, hitting the gym, running around town, and just enjoying the energy that came with this young, powerful body. I felt more alive than I had in years—every step felt strong, every laugh deeper, every meal tastier. Even the simplest things, like the weight of this body as I moved, brought me a thrill of satisfaction.

But about a week and a half in, the glow started to flicker. It was subtle at first—brief flashes of weakness, a strange sense of disorientation that hit me out of nowhere. I’d chalked it up to the gym, maybe pushing myself a bit too hard, but the feeling grew worse, and by the third day, it was undeniable.

One morning, I got home from a run, feeling the most drained that I had since the swap, and sat down heavily in front of my computer. A thought nagged at me. I pulled up the site where I’d first looked up the necklace and scrolled through the pages, scanning the text with growing dread. I found the entry that had originally described the necklace’s powers and read the section again, the words coming into sharper focus than they had the first time.

"The Amulet of Wishes grants the wearer the temporary experience of their deepest, subconscious desire. The magic is designed to fade with time, gradually encouraging the wearer to take action toward meaningful changes in their own life."

Shit.

I kept reading, my eyes darting over the ancient text as I searched for a way to make this last. My heart pounded with urgency as I came across the section I’d been hoping for: the conditions for making a wish permanent.

“In most cases,” the text read, “the wishes bestowed by the Amulet of Wishes cannot be made permanent, as they are based on creation—an inherent violation of the natural laws of the universe. Thus, the magic is destined to dissipate.”

My stomach sank, but I kept going.

“However,” it continued, “there exists one exception: the wish of a body swap. Unlike creation, a swap is an exchange of essences, preserving the balance of natural order. To make such a swap permanent, the grantee must transform their new body to better reflect their unique essence—through altering mannerisms, attire, personality traits, and any distinctive aspect that marks their identity. This process convinces the amulet that the body’s former inhabitant is no longer suited to reclaim it. Only then will the necklace bind the grantee to their new form forever.”

A spark of hope flickered in my chest, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The entry concluded with a note on how to summon the amulet if it had already disappeared: an incantation, ancient and direct.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I whispered the words aloud. The room seemed to shift, the air crackling around me. I felt a familiar weight settle against my neck—the amulet, its cool metal pressing against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, a mix of awe and anticipation coursing through me. The first step was complete. Now, it was time to begin the ritual to claim this body as my own for good.

I stood up, looking at myself in the mirror—the sharp eyes, the rugged face, the powerful build that I’d inhabited over the last week and a half. This would take more than superficial changes; it would take commitment, subtle shifts in behavior, and the kind of confidence that came naturally to Mikey but had always eluded me.

“Alright,” I murmured to my reflection, feeling a surge of determination. “Let’s get started.”

Stay tuned for Part 3.

[mlb-a-rewrite]

Miraculous Make No Sense

so I changed how they work.

I love me a well-thought-out and deliberate magic system. I love seeing the different rules and properties of how magic works and I love seeing how the author expands and works around those rules. Limitations are placed, followed, and then explored.

Miraculous Ladybug doesn't do this.

The powers are unbalanced and unrestrained. Miraculous can do whatever the writers want them to whenever they need it to happen. There are no limitations to the powers and the powers don't balance one another out.

This was the first issue I tackled in my rewrite.

Miraculous Overview

I decided that there are two "categories" for miraculous. They are either first or second-ring miraculous. (This is taking inspiration from the miracle box featured in the show and how the miraculous are organized into different rings).

What ring a miraculous belongs to determines how "powerful" it is. All miraculous, regardless of what ring or miracle box they belong to, have the following features:

It is a piece of jewelry

It is connected to and contain imagery of an animal

When a miraculous is worn by a person, the person will be granted, regardless of what ring or miracle box the miraculous belongs to, the following items:

They will now be able to see all Kwamis (regardless of miracle box or ring affiliation)

A unique phrase that will allow them to transform between civilian attire and hero attire

If a person is transformed, they will:

Get a magic girl costume and a magical girl transformation! The costume combines elements of the wearer's personal tastes and the animal associated with the miraculous

Have general enhancements (i.e. they are faster, stronger, have quicker reflexes, etc. but mental capabilities remain unchanged; if they’re dumb as fuck they stay dumb as fuck)

Have a magic weapon/object unique to the miraculous that serves at the housing unit of their special ability

One power unique to their miraculous

All miraculous have the attributes featured above, however, a first-ring miraculous grants the wearer 2 additional special abilities that a second-ring miraculous doesn't.

Special Abilities

In the rewrite, the special ability unique to the miraculous is how I am classifying the powers of each character. Cataclysm, Lucky Charm, Mirage, Venom, etc. are all the special abilities of each miraculous.

Second-ring miraculous have temporary special abilities. If the fox miraculous wearer casts Mirage and then detransforms, Mirage deactivates the illusion dissipates. However, first-ring special abilities are permanent (with one exception, more on that later). So when a ladybug wearer uses Restoration ("Restoration" being the new name for the "Miraculous Ladybug" power seen in the show) and then detransforms, all the damage they just repaired stays repaired.

Powers are also draining to the wearer. The bigger or more precise the use of the power is, the more physically draining it is. It takes a lot of strength, both physically and mentally, as well as a deep connection with the miraculous/kwami to use it for a wider range of uses. It is pretty easy for a black cat wearer to activate cataclysm and let it do whatever it wants, but it is more difficult to control that damage to a certain area or to destroy tougher materials. This adds more restrictions to the powers and gives the characters something to work on.

First-Ring vs. Second-Ring

For second-ring miraculous, there is only one special ability, hence why the fox miraculous only has mirage, but first-ring miraculous have multiple (why the ladybug miraculous has lucky charm and miraculous ladybug and de-evilize/deakumatization and-). This is because first-ring miraculous are more powerful.

I think of each miraculous wearer as having spell slots. For second-ring wearers, they only have 1 spell slot and 1 spell in that slot they can use. For first-ring wearers, they have 3 spell slots with 2 spells that are permanently stuck there.

To use an example from the show:

Any wearer of the ladybug miraculous, regardless of any differentiating factors, will always be able to use "Lucky Charm" and "Restoration". However, that third spell slot can be switched out to fit the situation. This third slot is there to be able to counteract and balance out other miraculous. So if a wearer of the ladybug miraculous thinks the wearer of the butterfly miraculous is using akumatization for nefarious reasons, that third "slot" would acquire a "spell" that directly combats akumatization, which is where the de-evilize ability in the show comes in.

This third ability only exists to combat other miraculous. If, for instance, a ladybug wearer is fighting in a war, the third ability won't make them bullet proof or something because guns are not a product or feature of a miraculous. The third ability only develops to counteract other miraculous.

In addition to that, this third ability only develops as a result of intense emotion. If a ladybug wearer just dislikes another wearer, the third ability isn't going to manifest, but if the ladybug wearer truly believes with every fiber of their being that another miraculous is being used for evil, then the ability will form.

So in the show, Marinette doesn't gain the ability to de-evilize right away. Only when she gets deeply and emotionally invested in the battle does that third ability form.

The final bit about the third power is that you can only use one third power at at a time. Going back to the spell slot analogy, you can have multiple spells you know how to use, but because there is only one slot available, you can only "equip" one spell at a time. When a spell is replaced with another, its effects disappear. Since two of the spell slots are permanently taken up, there is only one "customizable" spell slot.

Final Notes

Miraculous are all about balance. All miracle boxes have 2 rings, and the first ring only ever have 2 miraculous. These miraculous are always opposites and balance each other.

Which is why it makes no sense that Ladybug has so many fancy ass powers and Chat Noir only has cataclysm. Like what??????? So I ended up severely limiting Ladybug's powers and adding more restrictions and clarification. I also wrote in a new power for Chat Noir but this is already long enough so I'll save those details for a different post. :)

[randomtable]

a table of odd magic items that may or may not be useful

“…the GM will only tell you something interesting—it’s on you to make it useful.” — Dungeon World

1d20 Magical Items of Mild Utility

A doorknob that can be easily affixed to any door by simply holding it on for about thirty seconds. Once affixed, it permanently transforms into an ordinary doorknob and lock, to which you have the key.

The Shaker of Infinite Salt

A pencil that significantly improves the user’s penmanship when writing with it.

An orb containing a very small pocket dimension, into which one can transfer their familiar so that it may safely rest.

A palm-sized stone figurine of a shark, which will bite any fingers that come near its mouth.

Self-Fluffing Pillow

Watch that shows you what time it was the last time you looked at the watch, instead of what time it is now.

Piece of string that, when tied around your finger, actually helps you remember to do that thing.

Temporary Scissors: They can only cut the normal things you’d expect from a pair of scissors, but if you hold the cut pieces together tightly they will magically re-form into a whole, as though they’d never been cut.

Robes that make the wearer an inch or so taller.

Magic Eraser (erases pencil, ink and crayon!)

Hand-sized stone that, when thrown, always lands 5 feet in front of your intended target—whether your aim is perfect or abysmal.

A bucket that transforms any liquid poured into it into seawater.

A bar of soap that temporarily changes the color of anything washed with it. The color is random, and changes each time the bar is used (1d6: 1: Red, 2: Orange, 3: Yellow, 4: Green, 5: Blue, 6: Purple). The color lasts one day.

Goggles of Shrimp-Color Vision

A ring with a single very round stone. When you say the magic word the stone pops out and transforms into a bowling ball. It turns back into a small stone after 2d4 hours and must be manually returned to the ring before it can be used again.

Boots that produce an animal sound of your choice when you jump up and do a jaunty little bell-kick while wearing them.

A small glass bottle that, when filled with water, appears instead to be full of a swirling, shimmering potion.

A quiet trumpet.

A knife that can only cut sandwiches. It is up to the GM’s discretion what does and does not count as a sandwich for this enchantment, but the rules are consistent.

[astrobolical]

What In “Hell” Is Bad - Limited L-Grade Banner “Guide”

Note: Now available on android as well! Unsure of any differences. I may go through and update this later with images from my phone rather than my iPad.

Looking for other guides? Check out my WHB Guide List!

Okay… not sure where to start with this one other than it’ll be nice and short. However, this is the first guide I’ve made that I hope I get to change quickly.

To start though; new L-Grade Devils to pull, and pretty, blood-covered versions of Leviathan and Beelzebub. I currently do not have them, however, so I will be unable to show their skill/ultimates at all. I’m not willing to pay for it, though, despite that I do spend money on this game… but yeah.

What’s this all about?

PrettyBusy has given us a brand new temporary banner to showcase their new devils and artifacts, basically. (With some added drama, but we’ll get to that.)

Get Leviathan (Bloodshed) or Beelzebub (Bloodshed) guaranteed within 220 pulls.

Use the new item “Solomon’s Seal” to pull (50 Rings for 1 Pull, 500 for 10 pulls)

DO NOT pull on the standard banners for these devils! Right now they’re only available on this one

The pity (220) is absurdly high, and I’ll get to why soon

You can also get two new artifacts from this new banner.

Wing-ripping Sword

“The wearer’s HP and ATK SPD increases by 20%. If equipped on Leviathan (Bloodshed), has a 30.00% chance of immediately killing the enemy with under 15% HP he hits with a normal attack.”

Cracked Sunglasses

“Upon an accurate hitting of a normal attack, recovers as much HP as 4.00% of HP of the wearer. If equipped on Beelzebub (Bloodshed), recovers 100% HP upon using skill.”

Both really good artifacts! Especially for the new devils. If you have the seals for it all.

What? What’s Solomon’s Seal?

This is the unfortunate part— and it wasn’t properly communicated from PrettyBusy. We knew the new currency was coming, but not the means to get it.

This is only purchasable with real money.

There is four purchasing options, and none of them seem overly well priced? Let’s go over that though. We get 50 Seals for the update (1 Pull).

Prices for Solomon’s Seal Packages:

241 Seals - $11.99 (4 Pulls)

717 Seals - $49.95 (14 Pulls)

1,312 Seals -$59.99 (26 Pulls)

2,200 Seals - $99.90 (44 Pulls)

Just looking at them, it’s like… okay? But thinking about the pity, and the 0.63% chance to draw an L-Grade from the temporary banner, it’s not great.

Assuming you don’t get lucky, and you go all the way to 220?

You would need to buy the $99.90 package around 5 times. Which is ~$500. Being real, you’ll usually get them before pity, but there’s four things to get through this banner if you want everything. That’s a lot of chance.

Why is this not good, though?

Because there is no free-to-play alternative.

These seals are only obtainable in the shop, as I said before. It’s not the first game to do this, and won’t be the last. It’s not the end of the world, either. But it’s not great or motivating to the ftp players or community. I’m not going to keep ragging on this, though.

If you have an issue with this, contact PrettyBusy POLITELY. Not with anger, or profanity. Be nice.

So… I can’t get them?

You can!

Just not now, unless they change how this works. When this banner is over (Nov 14, 2023) they’ll be added to the Standard Banner to pull like all the rest.

Oh! There is one more thing to add!

Story Prologues

On the bottom left of the banners you’ll find story prologues you can read to get an idea of why the boys are bloodied up. Just click the circular icon of the one you want to read!

[nonexistentbeanbag]

I'm so conflicted on the Red Robin identity for Tim and the discourse around it.

From Tim's inception he's never wanted to be Batman. He's made this claim time after time and backed it up. He doesn't hesitate to call Bruce out when his actions bring harm to himself or others. When Tower of Babel happens and Bruce's contingency plans are released, Tim is confronted by the members of Young Justice and he doesn't hesitate to make it clear that he does not condone or respect Bruce for the disconnect he has from his teammates and friends. Later, during his period as Red Robin, he creates a list of villains whom he's preparing to take on. Among this list however, he has his own list of heroes in the community for whom he's preparing for, the same action that turned so many, including himself, against Batman. Tim has always shared traits with Batman. His detective skills that deduced the identities of Batman and Robin, and ultimately got him the job, his leadership among his peers that could get them to lay their lives on the line out of respect and trust in him, his complete and utter devotion to the mantle and mission to protect the people of Gotham. Despite his best efforts and wants, as he grows into his role of Robin, and later Red Robin, Tim acts more and more like Batman.

But that's not who he is. Tim has always wanted to be Robin. That's who he idolizes, that's the role he was created for. Tim has only ever wanted to be the best Robin he can be. During his period as Red Robin, he's stuck in a grey area where he's not fully committed to being Robin, nor fully given in and become like Batman.

On the one hand, I understand why people don't like or view it as Tim's next step after Robin. Inherently, this suit is meant to be temporary, a means to an end, to be discarded when Tim's goal of finding Bruce is completed. Tim takes up this mantle because of the disconnect he feels from the rest of the hero community. He knows he's in a bad place mentally and that his behavior would leave a stain on the Robin identity. Tim views the Red Robin costume and title as already so stained that he can embrace his withering mental state. He's punishing himself, putting himself in his own prison, letting his negative thoughts and tendencies fester. It's even seen visually through the costume. It's heavy. The cowl looks thick and angry, the belts are big and chunky. The suit itself, pants and tunic, are separated, making the costume a heavier and more restrictive outfit. No matter what way you look at it, this outfit and mantle represent Tim being at the lowest point of his life, surrounded by death, tired of it, blaming himself for it, and punishing himself for it.

But it doesn't stay this way

At the end of his quest to find Bruce, Tim gets alterations made to the suit. The cowl is slimmer, lighter. The outfit is one full body suit, keeping it slim and mobile. The chunky belt is traded out for a utility belt reminiscent of the one present on the Robin suit. The suit overall is more visually appealing, and more expressly Tim.

He's not wearing it as a punishment to himself. He doesn't feel burdened by wearing it. He feels comfortable in it. He feels like himself. He's grown past his time as Robin. This is said not only expressly by Tim, but by the story itself. Tim does not want to be Batman, he's only ever wanted to be the best Robin he can be. Red Robin gives him that opportunity. Through Red Robin, Tim gets to be that, an adult Robin. His own man away from the Batfamily, but someone still expressly connected to it all. The mantle gives him the opportunity to remain Robin, but grow as his own person. Through this mantle, Tim gets his own Nightwing, a better, more lighthearted Batman. A mantle that is mature and can express the necessary elements of the Batman, but that keep the traits of the wearer at the heart of it. Where Nightwing allows Dick to step away from Bruce and be his own Batman through the elements taught to him, Red Robin allows Tim to be his own Robin.

[shewasverynice]

Cow *space* Boy - Part 2

((image temporary until I find some sweet Suguru cow boy art ❤️))

Enjoy Suguru! Nanami is next!

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Rating: Explicit

Content: Cosplay, Overstim, Established Relationship, Fingering, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Piercings, soft domming

Pairing: Suguru Geto/Fem!Oc

"Suguru," Boe whined, her arms outstretched and reaching. She grasped onto the back of his now untucked and disheveled white dress shirt, tugging at it incessantly. "Baaaabe! Carry me? Please?" She whined again, probably for the fourth time? Fifth? It was hard to say.

"You are perfectly capable of walking," Suguru grumbled, holding up her shiny purple heels in his hand, "I already gave you my shoes. At least let me keep some dignity."

It was kind of a whole thing -- when isn't it a whole thing with life as a sorcerer -- but the long and short of it was: Sarah threw a huge party at her and Satoru's home and everyone brought alcohol. Literally everyone. Even Satoru drank, which was incredibly rare, and it all degenerated pretty quickly. 

Boe and Suguru were the last two to leave, quickly making their exit as Satoru slurred his way to his wife and tried to yank her skirt down in the living room. Sarah had politely, if not a bit sloppily, ushered them to the door before Satoru could solve the puzzle box that was his belt. And off they went, too drunk to drive but sober enough to use a flying curse to get closer to their own home before walking the rest of the way.

Suguru fumbled through the pocket of his slacks, prying out the keys and struggling to focus on the lock. He couldn't miss it when his own shoes shuffled up behind him, the wearer giggling despite herself.

"Suguruuu, baby..." Boe hummed from behind, standing on her toes with her mouth up close against his ear. Suguru's fingers stumbled, tipsy, as he tried to jam the key into the lock. "You wanna put on that thing? You know... The one we borrowed? Hmm? Wanna try it, please?"

"Again with this," Suguru huffed, laughing despite it. Boe slid her palms down his chest, getting a hand beneath his shirt. It was all stuck to his body with the sweat of the hot July night, but that just made him smell even better if she was being honest. Her long manicured nails scratched hard across his pelvis and Suguru's head fell back near her shoulder.

"C'mon now," she purred, all smug, "Won't you do it for me, SuguBoo? Please? My big handsome man. You'd like it, hmm? Yeah? Please?" 

"You must still be drunk. That's the only time you ask me so nicely," he teased, then raised an eyebrow, "You seriously want me to put on that ridiculous cow thing? I'm pretty sure that Satoru didn't realize it was made for women when he bought it. It's already stretched out after he washed it."

"You're not much smaller than him anyway," Boe pouted, "C'mon be cool. Put it on for me, please?"

Suguru sighed, turning his head to look at her, "You're going to make me do it anyway, when I clearly don't want to?"

"Yes," she nodded enthusiastically, her eyes practically sparkling.

"You're fucking awful," he mumbled, turning around. 

Boe couldn't help it. In the darkness right in front of their home she stood up on her toes once again and kissed his pretty mouth. He tasted like beer and something sweet, probably all those mixed drinks someone attempted to make with the last of the fruit punch. 

He was just as drunk as she was, real happy. All sweet and pliant for her as she walked her fingers higher under his shirt and pinched one of his nipples. She laughed, low and sultry, as it hardened in her touch and pressed herself closer to him.

"Absolutely shameless," Suguru reinforced, breathing hard. Then he hummed with a barely suppressed smile, his own hand snaking its way into her purple hair and holding the back of her head. "Mmm, the absolute worst," he murmured.

 "And yet here you are, all red and shit," she accused, "Why's that, huh? What's got you all worked up?"

"Not sure," he said. He grinned into her neck, and when she pulled back her eyes were all bright and dazed, chewing at her bottom lip. "You're being awfully sweet. Maybe it's just the alcohol, but..." his voice trailed down to a whisper right into her ear, "I think you deserve something sweet for being a good girl for me, don't you?"

"I'll make you fuck me out here if you keep talkin' like that," she warned, her nails raking down his chest just sharp enough to make him hiss. He'd ask for more later. She could already tell he was in that kind of mood.

"You think I won't," he purred. His hands were on her hips now, rubbing his thumbs into the fabric of her silky dress over the curves he loved so much. He smiled and laughed to himself, his dark eyes glinting in the porch light. "And what if I did? Would you be able to get me into that costume then? All your leverage would be gone."

"Shit," she bit out, just before she smashed her mouth back into his, pressing him hard against the outside of the door. Suguru moaned out loud, parting his legs enough for her free hand as it glided along the outline of his cock. The other rolled his nipple between her thumb and forefinger and Suguru's head fell back against the door with a dull thud. Boe took her opportunity, kissing his neck while she palmed his cock head.

"You want me to come out here?" Suguru breathed into her hair, "Mmn, Boe --"

"I'm the worst, right," Boe mumbled into his throat, stroking faster while her other hand grabbed at his ass. "I'm the worst, he says to me, I swear to God --"

But now Suguru's hands were feeling greedy too, huge and clutching hard at her hips now, holding her in place while he spread her legs and jammed his knee right up against her heat. Immediately she rolled her hips, feeling his dick hot and hard through his pant leg. She was already working herself up, just how he liked it, eyes shut and mouth gasping.

Suguru could barely keep his composure. He watched her, transfixed and pressing his thigh harder into her, flexing his muscles to give her something solid to get herself off on. Fuck, he wanted to see it. Boe always wants it, she can't help it, she's just honest with herself about it and it makes Suguru hot under his skin every time. Hot enough that he forgets about everything but holding her down and driving her crazy until she's had all that bratty attitude fucked out of her.

He sunk his teeth into her neck, pawing at her breasts through her dress, feeling the hard metal of her piercings and shivering.

“Suguru,” Boe whined.

"Yes? Go on," Suguru murmured, tugging her earlobe between his teeth. He whispered, his breath hot, "Tell me what my good girl wants. Maybe you'll get it?"

He bounced his thigh just a few times and she came, laughing and groaning into his neck, gasping through it. It sent more shivers all up and down Suguru's spine and he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, making a whole slew of noises that no one would ever have expected him to make. Especially not on his front porch, still wanting more and more and more from her.

Finally he detached himself, quirking up an eyebrow in mock-sternness. "Now, are you going to let me open the door? I can't become the cow boy of your dreams unless we go inside."

Boe clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes and nodding. "Yes! Yes, let's go!" She giggled, tugging on his arm.

Sweet fucking lord, Suguru thought bleakly.

Keys in, door opened, and finally he shoved Boe's stumbling ass inside. "A headband with little ears," Suguru mused, shutting the door. "Pink too. Why'd it have to be pink? He couldn't have picked at least brown or black? This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe how into this you girls are. Which one of you is the pervert who thought of this first?"

"Well it was supposed to be like... Yeehaw cowboys," Boe told him, setting his shoes by the door. She reached out once the door was bolted, tugging Suguru in by the belt loops. "But he fucked it, and now here we are."

"So I assume Sarah liked it anyway?" He asked, letting her pull him along.

"Oh, yeah," Boe answered with a smirk. She planted a little kiss on his lips, then pulled away smiling softly and just a little fuzzy. "C'mon now, Buttercup. Let's get you all decked out."

Suguru groaned, "Don't you dare call me that during."

She smirked at him again and he sighed. 

Into their bedroom they went, her kicking the door behind them and sitting expectantly on the end of the bed. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, her back straight as if a nun with a ruler was going to slap her wrist if she didn't sit properly. Her eyes followed him, wide and excited. He really couldn't let her down now. 

Suguru smiled at her as he flicked the button open on his pants. He let them fall, then reached up to unbutton his shirt while her eyes followed every movement of his hands. Silky black hair fell down in waves over his shoulders as he bared his toned chest, then folded the shirt over his arm. 

On the dresser was the accursed little white bag with the costume inside. He sighed placing his shirt down and opening the bag with a second more dramatic sigh. 

He had been at least a little hot under the collar since the party. Watching all the girls drunk and shaking their asses to the music. He was trying to hide it since he'd made the mistake of looking sideways at Boe with her face all flushed and smiling as she grinded her ass on Sarah and Rin. Only now was he truly and honestly aware of how badly he wanted her, how badly he wanted to be inside her and how pretty and bright her green eyes were.

"Close your eyes," he said, waving his hand her way, "It'll be a nice surprise, right?"

"'Kay!" She chirped, closing her eyes and smiling like a dope.

Suguru snorted, reaching into the bag. The cow bell inside clanged and he grimaced while she visibly shivered and giggled. He rolled his eyes, setting it down to keep pulling out the rest of the blasted thing.

Straps on his thighs first, then up went the little thong. He looked at himself in the mirror, the heat rising to his cheeks before he looked away with a scowl. On went the tiny top, clearly meant to be a tank top. It would have been one on a woman probably, but his broad chest stretched it into a tight little crop top. Straps next, but they didn't fit around his pecs so he chose to just put it around his waist and let the rest of it hang down.

Finally he sighed as he picked up the headband. Turning it over in his hands he narrowed his eyes at a set of tally marks made on the underside along with a crude marker drawing of Gojo and Sarah. Twenty-three? For what?

"Ugh," he cringed, realizing Satoru must have been tallying how often they orgasmed wearing it.

"What?" Boe asked, her eyes still closed but her grin widened.

"Nothing," Suguru sighed, slicking back his hair and placing the ears on his head. 

Taking one last cautious glance he saw himself in the mirror. Absolutely ridiculous. He looked away again, inhaling through his nose before he moved closer, stopping right in front. The clanging of the cow bell certainly didn't help calm his nerves, but then he cleared his throat. "Okay."

She opened her eyes and he closed his as she squealed with joy. He heard her footsteps as she walked around him on her toes, felt the fucking giddy vibrations in the air too.

"Oh my god," she barely contained her giggles, "Holy shit. Suguru this is so amazing!"

She flicked the cowbell and cackled at the loud TING!

Suguru cleared his throat, then tipped his head back. She instantly took a step back, trembling. That look in his eyes! Real dangerous. That's the one. That's the one that always straightened her out quick. 

Her hands glided up his chest, her lip caught between her teeth again and her eyes half-lidded.

"I saw you watching me dance, Buttercup. You want me to take care of all that milk you've made for me?" She purred, fiddling with the bow on his chest, trying so hard not to crack up and ruin the effect, but it was a lost cause.

"Boe," Suguru said, seriously, "Do not call me that again."

Boe's face changed. Suguru knew that look. Oh, shit. Oh fucking Christ, did he know it. He tried hard not to grin. "Oh-hoh? You mad?" She continued, egging him on further. "What are you gonna do about it, Buttercup? You won't do shit. You're just gonna sit there and let me--"

Suguru gave it just one beat, maybe two, but suddenly his hand was on her upper arm and dragging her. She yelped out, "Hey!" But he got her up and onto the bed.

"I get it," he murmured in her ear, his hand on the back of her head. He shoved right up tight against her, his cock hard and grinding against her ass, and oh fuck, he's not surprised to feel how hot she is too. "You like pissing me off. You like a little trouble, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're--" Boe started, but it's a shitty protest. Even she can't deny it, because okay, she does like it when he's mad. She fucking loves it when that composure breaks and he gets real mean. Shatter that calm persona. Bring out the real Suguru who doesn't give a shit about being dignified and just wants to tear her apart.

So of course she doesn't want him to think she'll just roll over. She struggled up onto her arms, pushing back with a devilish laugh, "Ooh! You can't deal at all, huh?"

Suguru pushed his thigh between her legs, hard, and slipped one hand up her dress and onto her hip. The other kept its grip on the back of her head, forcing her back down. "This is me dealing with it. This is exactly what it looks like when I'm dealing with it. Do you want me to show you what I'll do if you keep it up?"

She winced as the rim of the metal bell dug into her back. Then rolled her eyes with a huff, "Oh, yeah, tough guy, fine--show me what you'll do."

Suguru paused, tilting his head, shrugged-- and then grinded his knee between her legs. Hard enough to make her yelp and gasp, her ass lifting off the bed when her toes pushed her up. 

He grabbed a fistful of her hair on the back of her head and caught one of her hands, locking it behind her back. His mouth was right against her ear, panting, which was so fucking hot Boe could barely stand it. He's hard and he's panting; he's getting off on just the idea of what he's gonna do. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's just-- Boe couldn't even see straight, it was so hot. 

"Spread further," he growled.

"Make me," Boe whispered.

Suguru groaned softly, grinding his hips forward against Boe's. "This was fun," she huffed, "But it's over now."

He blinked. She snapped her wrist out of his grasp, rolling over onto her front and pushing him back with her knee. Fuck, he's strong, but she's quick when she wants to be. Sitting up, she had him by the waist and pushed him back one step, closer to the wall until her back was the one that hit. 

Her back?

Suguru's whole solid body pushed up tight against Boe's. He had his arm not just around her waist but blocking one of his arms too, right against his side. That does leave one of her arms free and she pushes back at his chest.

God damn she loved it when he got this way! She could have just given in and just let him do anything he wanted, but sometimes the struggle was just too much fun. She's not weak by any measure, her shove pushed him back a few inches, but he locked in harder and braced. He snatched that free wrist once again, pinning it to the wall above her head. 

"Now look at you," he murmured. He nuzzled her cheek, lips skating gently along her jawline; Boe shivered hard despite all her best intentions. "You don't get to put me in this stupid costume and then tell me no. You don't get to run away from this."

She smirked, swiping her tongue across her teeth. "Oh yeah, Buttercup?"

Suguru bit down hard on the side of Boe's neck. She grunted, thrashing against him, but he had her pinned too well. "Maybe I should rephrase that since you didn't understand," he breathed, "You're not going to leave." He dragged his tongue across the shell of her ear, swirling a slow circle around it. "Not until I've gotten what I want from you. Not until we play this stupid farmer game, got it?"

Her knees buckled-- damn it! She's not ready to give in but that hot breath and his cock grinding into her thigh and that grip on her wrist, and how the fuck is she suppose to stay upright? "Suguru," she moaned.

"Come on."

Arms around her waist he guided her back to the bed and forced her to sit back down. He pointedly ignored the sound of the cowbell before he spoke again, his voice low and gravelly, pure sex and sin. "Stop playing hard to get, bitch. This is what you spent the last few days begging for."

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes, Boe thought dizzily, but no, that's a line that should really piss her off. Bitch? Begging for? "Fuck you," Boe hissed, with a smirk, "I won't beg for you, Buttercup."

Suguru just grinned at her. "You will."

He didn't give her the satisfaction of back-sass, because he was on her. He was on her, kissing her and thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned, clutching at him, because she can't not, but fuck! Was she really gonna give in this easy? What was the point of the cow costume if they were just gonna play their normal games? 

Suguru drew his tongue back to lick around her lips and suddenly she surged forward. Her hands slid down his body, down miles of toned muscles to the hem of that little spotted thong. His breath hitched as she fondled him, cupped his balls and tilted her head to meet his gaze with their foreheads touching. 

"I think I'm due for some vitamin D," she purred, stroking and teasing just around his shaft, "Think you got enough to satisfy me?"

He huffed, his breath growing ragged faster than he planned. She started to get up, but he spun her around and traded their positions. Sitting down, he pulled one of her legs over his and forced her to straddle his hips. She twisted on him for a moment, but his hand clapped down on her shoulder and the other grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back. So much for going anywhere. She wouldn't run now anyway, he could see it in her eyes. She always let him win in the end.

"You're gonna milk this cow completely dry," he whispered, smiling despite the darkness in his eyes, "Understand? All of this milk?" His hand lowered between them, cupping his heavy balls, "You're gonna take it. And you're gonna thank me for it."

She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Am I? Are you sure I can drink all of that?"

"You can and will," he insisted, his hand stoking back up her body, a hot breath escaping when his thumb caught against her clit ring through her dress.

He chuckled when she shuddered, biting at the curve of her neck and shoulder. "Every last drop," he whispered, biting down hard and sucking a deep bruise into her skin. "You won't stop until I tell you to," he continued as he drew back, "Understand?"

And oh, oh god, that blew her fucking mind. The combination of such a ridiculous outfit but her boyfriend's absolutely stellar domming was pure ecstasy.

She turned her head in time to see him conjure a curse to reach out, picking his belt up off the floor and into his hand. For one split-second he left go of her wrists, but the realization hit her a moment too late. The belt wrapped around them and cinched tight, and she was done. 

"Don't really feel like going anywhere now, do you?" Suguru murmured, "I'm guessing you'd much rather stay right where you are."

Boe squeaked, shrugging half-heartedly. She twisted her shoulders, looking up at him through her eyelashes, but didn't dare say anything. Her toes curled against his calves and she chewed at her lip again. 

And then he finally did it-- both his arms went up and  his hands grasped at her dress. He tensed and tore, the zipper snapping and ripping down with a bunch of satisfying pops. Up it went, over her head and into the floor with a Thwap! 

Wasting no time, the bra was next and his teeth were on her right nipple ring. She cried out as it clicked between them, his tongue teasing and swirling it. Then to the other, his other hand splayed out on her spine and dug his fingers in.

"You should have been the cow," he mumbled, "It would be more fun if I was the bull."

"Aah!" Boe's head tipped back, her eyes squeezing shut. His fingers joined his tongue, both of her nipple rings being tugged and teased and making her hips roll against his. He thighs bounced with impatience, his cock throbbing and already pushed out of that tiny thong. 

"You know how to milk a cow, don't you?" He whispered, pointing his tongue to flick at the ring once before he looked up at her. "Some cows need a little more help to get it done. You think you've got what it takes?" He paused for a beat, waiting for her answer. Nothing came so he smirked, tugging on a nipple ring once again and repeated, "Do you?"

"I-- I--" she panted, her eyes barely open enough to see him. 

"I'm going to use you like a milking machine," he chuckled, "I'll slide this big cock right inside you. Make you scream. And then I'll fuck you until I feel lighter."

"I want you so much," Boe whimpered. 

Suguru took a few unsteady breaths to collect himself. He growled, "The hell with it." And shoved her legs apart. He pushed his fingers into her, hard and deep, watching her arch and moan on his lap. She panted as he curled his index and middle, but when his thumb brushed her clit ring she actually cried out. 

"Oh god," she whined, "More, please... Just fuck me already! Please!"

He rocked his fingers in, good and deep, pressing and rubbing. His thumb kept brushing over her clit and she shivered. Her head was spinning. Mind going hazy. His hand brushed her hair back and he let his cheek brush hers as he leaned in to whisper, "Come."

The coil snapped and she moaned. Hips jerked against his, wrists pulling at the belt, gasping for breath and head whipping. His thumb kept flicking, dragging it on for ages and ages. Her eyes felt like they did a full 360 in her skull before she could focus on him again. 

He kissed her forehead, kissed her eyebrows-- when she closed her eyes he kissed her eyelids too. "Good girl," he breathed, "You're so beautiful when you come."

Suguru brought his mouth to hers, tongue thrusting into her mouth. It's sloppy, a hard one, and after a few seconds of his tongue filling her mouth she stopped to focus on breathing. Near as she could tell, Suguru was trying to fuck her mouth with his tongue and he wanted her to hold still and take it.

Eagerly she did, letting him in. He pulled back for a split-second to look into her eyes and whatever he saw there made him hiss out "Yes" before coming back to kiss her again. This time it was slower, easier, more seductive. Suguru licked into Boe's mouth, coaxing her tongue forward, and she shuddered and shook and finally, finally let herself give in and kissed him back. 

It set off fireworks for Suguru, or at least it felt like it. He moaned quietly against her lips, pulling her closer by her hips and squishing his cock between their bodies. One rock of his hips and his piercings clicked against hers down below, both of them moaning into each other's mouths. The cow bell jostled just enough to make a few soft clinks.

Boe could only breathe heavily through her nose, trying to stay conscious as he suffocated her with his mouth. She had to wait. Had to be good or else he'd make her wait longer. Arms under her ass, he tilted her hips into position and dropped her onto his cock. "Oh fuck, oh yes, Suguru..." She breathed, settling in as he shoved her into position and exhaled with relief.

"Move," he commanded, his voice calm and even, "Get to work. Make me come and take all my milk."

She nodded meekly, biting her lip. Then she drove her hips down, twisting and grinding for a moment. Suguru's head slowly tipped back as she went up slow and then back down, a rumble deep in his chest. "That's it," he praised, "Good girl... That's it..."

"Suguru, Mmn, oh fuck... Suguru!"

"That's it, that's it," hips steadily rising to meet hers, balls pressing against her ass again and again, "Tell me--you want it. Tell me."

"Fuck oooh fuck," she panted, head lolled back and eyes squeezing shut.

Suguru reached up, fisting her hair and pulling. "Answer me, slut. Answer me," He growled.

"Fuck you," Boe moaned, trying her damnedest to rock her hips down against his thrusts now. "Fuck--fuck you, fuck--oh, God--"

"You're gonna come," Suguru panted, dragging his lips up her neck, "You're gonna come and milk me dry. Because you--" his last three words were harsh and low, matching his heavy deep thrusts, "You--love--it." 

Boe sobbed out a breath, shaking as Suguru took over completely. Thrust after punishing thrust that wouldn't let her hide from the truth even if she wanted to. The cow bell rang at full force, clang clang clang! "Ohh fuck," she moaned, "Yes! Oh, yes, love it so fucking much, Suguru... Fuck me, fuck me .. fu-fuck me!"

All he could do was pant, losing his mind. Eyes closing, gasping, shaking. She grinded down hard, tilting forward to catch more friction, and her clit ring caught just right. Gasping, she was coming with loud broken moans. He fumbled for the belt buckle-- twisting it and throwing it off. He needed her hands free, needed her to touch him too.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers gliding through his silky hair. One hand wrapped a healthy amount around and with one hard tug he was coming too.

"Boe!" He shouted. His hips stuttered fast, knees bouncing and toes curling. Her nails dug into his scalp and he gritted his teeth as the pleasure and pain dragged it out further and further. With one more groan he dropped his head to her shoulder. His hand moved to stroke up and down her thigh, slowly and lazily, soaking in every twitching aftershock.

"Love you," he murmured into her shoulder, feeling the tremble in her chest of her soft laugh before she whispered, "Love you too."

Their breaths slowed, still heated and mixing together as they kissed in gentle pecks. Boe tensed her core, feeling him throb once again. She blinked, then glanced down at where he was still nestled inside.

"You're still hard?" She asked, "You usually need a little break in between. I'm surprised."

He was beginning to pant again, his eyes almost glazing over and a little smirk pulling at his lips. He tilted his head and whispered, "I'm not sure what's come over me, but let's not let it go to waste."

She snickered, "Well, you won't hear me complaining."

The bedframe creaked dangerously and she huffed, "If this one breaks I'll be really pissed." But already she was bouncing slowly, her hands resting on his shoulders with her long nails sinking in.

"I'll fuck you on the floor then, Miss Farmer," Suguru purred, sitting back on his palms and enjoying the view of her riding him, "It may be just the alcohol, but I feel like I could go all night..."

"It's the costume," Boe breathed, chuckling breathlessly. Sinking down on him again, moaning high on her throat, she was already feeling it as he grew to his hardest once more.

Suguru wasn't fairing much better -- she was so warm inside, so wet. His hands were gripping too hard at the comforter, he could feel his nails tearing a few loose threads, but he just couldn't find it in himself to give a shit. And then Boe moved her hips in low swirling circles. He sat up, grabbing two healthy handfuls of her ass and grinned up at her.

"Let's turn this into a rodeo, cowgirl," he rasped, "Better hold on. This cow likes to buck hard."

"Oh shit!" Boe swore, knowing her eyes were huge in her face. Shocked at that wild look in his eyes just before he's planted his feet and really fucking giving it to her. 

Loud heavy slaps of skin echoed in the room, both of them losing themselves. The cowbell clanged loud, bouncing off his chest and nearly hitting his chin. 

“It’s so fucking good, you’re so, you’re so, God, Suguru!!"

He was gone. She was glistening with sweat and the bouncing of her tits was hypnotic. Whatever was left of his mind tapped out entirely and he wrapped his strong arms around her hips with his hands spread over her ass. His mouth caught a nipple and his tongue ring clicked against her own ring, making his already unstable rhythm stutter.

"Ah! Ah! Aah!" Boe held on for dear life, wiggling and grinding around him, all the muscles in her stomach clenching up. Her hands tangled into his hair and her back arched, pushing her breast more into his mouth. "Ohh, God, more, please I --" And so Suguru did. He swirled his tongue, letting his ring catch her nipple ring as his teeth gently massaged as well. One of his palms glided up her back to drag his nails down her spine. "Suguru, yeah -- yes -- oooh!"

"That's a good girl," Suguru laughed, breathless and panting between words, "Ride this cow. Hold on tight."

"Gimme it all," she cried out, "Oh fuck yes! Oh fu-fuck yes! I want it! Come inside me again!"

Suguru was pretty sure his mind completely whited out. She was riding him just as hard as he was thrusting, making all kinds of sounds with her mouth open. The bedframe was really taking a beating, but if they broke another one he knew he'd still brag about it.

"Good girl, good girl," he chanted. He swallowed hard when she squeezed up around him just to make him feel good. She always had to have an attitude first, always wanted to piss him off, but the truth always came out. And his truth was that he fucking loved it when she was a brat. He loved putting her in her place as much as she loved being put there.

“Yeah,” Boe panted. “Ah, Suguru — yeah —” 

“Like doin’ all the work. Like getting fucked? You like getting fucked, slut?” 

“I love it, I love it, it’s so fuckin’ good, baby, it’s so, God, fuck —“

"That's right you do," Suguru managed, "Damn right you do. This pussy is mine. All fucking mine."

Boe's moans cracked and shuddered in her throat, and Suguru felt it. He knew she was about to come, but her weight felt just right and so good crashing into his bucking hips. He held her hips in his big hands, fingers bruising the top of her ass, manhandling her like a doll and forcing her down balls deep with every push. He took a moment to smack her ass hard, reveling in the yelp. She'd give him shit about it later and he couldn't fucking wait. The cow bell was so fucking loud!

"S-s-su-suguru-- m'gonna-- M'gonna-- !!" Boe gasped, coming while grinding her clit against his belly, squeezing up around him so hard inside that Suguru thought he might pass out. Her head fell back, fisting Suguru's hair in her hands, shoving her face into his flushed pecs. It's too much, all way too much. The smell of his skin, his hot satisfied love sounds; those long silky luxurious gasps and moans in that deep voice.

"Boe, fuck," Suguru grit out, and when Boe finally shuddered back down, he held her in place so he could once again fill her with his come. Hips jerking and head nodding. "Fuck-- Boe, that's it..."

It lasted for-fucking ever. All Suguru could do was let his toes curl in the carpet, sweating and groaning and riding it out. Boe made soft little noises, little sweet whimpers, and even as Suguru was coming down he still couldn't handle it.

"Keep moving, cowgirl," Suguru mumbled, delirious and happy, "Every last drop of milk. Just for you. Hold it for me. Don't let any slip out."

Obediently Boe rolled her hips again, breathing hard and scratching her nails at the base of Suguru's neck, the muscles in her legs twitching. It felt so good Suguru couldn't help the sound he makes. “Mmn, you’re good to me,” he murmured, “Milked me pretty good didn't you, cowgirl. Feel it? All of that?"

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, dreamy. She dipped her head, hoping for a kiss, and Suguru gave her one. His mouth moved wet and soft against Boe's when she gives one of her lusty sighs. “Suguru,” she mumbled, rolling her hips slower and slower, drooping with satisfaction. 

"Darling,” Suguru whispered to her, “Baby doll. My beautiful girl.” 

She shifted, lifting off of him slowly with her nails gliding up his chin. With a sly smile she stretched, giving him a little show as he looked over her body. His eyes lingered on her breasts, then hips, ass and thighs. He chuckled, low in his throat, and sighed.

"I'm going to love you all night," he murmured, missing her already. Boe smirked at him as she tied her hair back.

“Guess I can suffer through it,” she teased, then tilted her head, "But more than twice in one night? Are you sure?"

He grinned, flicking the cowbell, "Well, maybe Satoru was onto something, mm?"

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[j-fashion-wearer-otd]

Today's temporary J-fashion wearer is Kawakami Tomie, a character created by Ito Junji! In a collab with Sanrio, she's wearing kogyaru!

[mollywog]

Everlark Executioner AU inspired by this post

Read on Ao3

Had the messenger arrived a day earlier, he would have been greeted by a yellow flag above our door, and had to turn back, summons undelivered.

The odds, however, are not in my favor.

My sister, having been ill the week prior, had quarantined us both at home. She hadn’t been fearfully sick, just unwilling to put her patients at risk. The flag hadn’t prohibited me from hunting alone but it had kept the townspeople and duties away for a spell.

I should have known my temporary reprieve would need repaid in spades.

So as my luck would have it, there's no obstacle to the trembling messenger boy delivering the summons. It seems my services are needed for a midnight hanging.

I am an executioner by chance, not choice. Well that’s not exactly true.

Though the Capital acts as judge and jury, the districts must supply the hangman. And because no one willingly seeks the position, about once a generation, they hold a ceremony to select a new one. They call it a reaping: someone’s idea of a joke. Haymitch Abernathy’s name had been drawn twenty odd years ago after the previous executioner had disappeared into the wild, never to be seen again. Haymitch should have been it for another decade or so, but he’d given everyone a scare two years back when he fell off his horse and into a coma for a week. He came to no worse for the wear but the district officials decided he needed an apprentice lest they discover him face down in a ditch with no one to measure their next noose. My name had not been called, but my sister’s had.

I ‘volunteered’ to take her place, but there was really never a choice in it. She never would’ve survived the social isolation let alone the job requirements.

After that my sister and I moved to the far edge of the District near the woods. It’s better not to know the condemned or subject the town to my presence. Most people know the proper direction of their anger, most don’t blame the executioner, but they still avert their gaze and hold their children tighter to their chest as I pass.

My sister, Primrose, on the other hand, is universally admired; a born healer in a place where there are few and the need is great. If I keep myself scarce, they still seek her out for treatments.

Prim is somber as she hands my satchel up to me. She’s used to hearing news from town ahead of time but with our week sequestered, we know nothing of who I may face. But Midnight hangings are reserved for the most deprived criminals,so I’ll take solace that the wearer of my necklace will be worthy of it.

The hanging tree mars the district skyline. It looms ominously over the landscape, growing as I approach the center of town.

The fog thins as I arrive at the tree, a noose is already in place as invitation to the crowd. The messenger this morning claimed the hangman was indisposed, but Haymitch has at least prepared that much before absconding into his bottle; He will have taken into account the wearer’s height and weight when selecting the rope's gauge and length: I inspect his work. Likely a man: Average height, but well fed. I release a breath: no chance it will be a child today.

In the Justice building I check in with the clerk and settle in a seat. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes, pretending to nap, lest someone try to speak to me. I hear fragments of the gossip: three murdered.. a fire… caught red-handed. At least this time my nightmares will revolve around the condemned’s actions and not my own.

Time crawls by. The growing clamor outside is my cue that the time is nearing and I shrug on the executioner's robe, rubbing my sweaty palms down the fabric at the thighs. The hood isn’t necessary, Haymitch gave it up years ago, everyone knows who we are, but I flip the material over my head anyways. If only it could shield me from my conscience.

I had always assumed Haymitch drank because he didn’t care. Now I know it’s the opposite; he drinks because he can’t help caring. I refuse to fall victim to the bottle, it doesn’t solve the guilt, I suppose nothing will, but there are other ways to live with myself.

I take the dose of elixer Prim packed with enough time for the herbs to take effect, making me feel hollow enough to perform the job, but as I exit the Justice building, I'm immediately on edge despite the tonic

Something’s not right.

Through the numbness I can feel the stilted weight of the crowd. The low simmering of discontent is unexpected. With the allegations, I’d expected eagerness if not indifference.

I take my place on the platform. The mayor nods in my direction distractedly.

Head Peacekeeper, Thread, emerges from the prison, two uniformed men in tow, dragging the limping convict. His head is bent, obstructing my view of his face, but I take in the broad shoulders and yellow hair. Another surprise. The man I am to execute is from the merchant side of town, where most have the means to survive without breaking the laws or bribe the Peacekeepers into turning a blind eye.

The man is placed beside me and I discreetly peer around my hood for a better look. The name registers right before it is spoken. My stomach drops.

Peeta Mellark

Oh, no. Not him. No, the odds are not in my favor today.

Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will.

At eleven and in my lowest moment a boy had risked a beating to give me two loaves of hardy bread. The loaves and the hope it provided saved my life. I haven’t yet found the courage to thank him, and now I never will I think as I stare at the boy with the bread’s limp form.

I’ve broken into a sweat despite the chilled breeze. The Mayor reads the charges, but I hear nothing except a buzzing in my ears.

I’m fighting through a violet haze to make sense of my dilemma. I cannot kill this man, but refusal to do so will earn me a spot swinging beside him. Damn Haymitch! This should have been his problem, and I could have wiped my hands clean if Peeta Mellark. But no, that’s not right either. My debt and his death would haunt me for the rest of my miserable life. Besides, something in my gut tells me I am meant to be here, that there’s still yet something I can do.

A single word floats to the top of my memory.

“Nightlock,” I murmur, no more than a whisper, but it’s enough for the mayor to pause his reading. In the years of my apprenticeship it was only mentioned once. Haymitch had been drunk. Much drunker than usual when he’d discussed a small list of extenuating circumstances and loopholes. When I’d pressed him for more, he’d told me to ‘forget it’ before shattering a bottle and demanding I leave. I had left, but not before hearing him break down in sobs. I’d seen him in all forms of drunk, but never so much as to weep. So, of course, the word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

“Excuse me?” The Mayor interrupts my muddled memories.

“Nightlock,” I state more firmly.

At the sound of my voice Peeta lifts his head and sways on his feet. The motion reveals what his hair has concealed; a lump, angry and purple over his eye. He’s likely concussed.

There is a mixed reaction among the crowd at my outcry: mostly confusion, but some of the older spectators understand the implications of what I have said and begin whispering among the crowd. The Mayor mops his brow, his pained expression cautiously hopeful, “Do you wish to enact the nightlock clause Ms Everdeen?”

“I do” my voice sounds foreign to me; More fierce and decisive than my foggy mind.

“And Mr Mellark do you accept?” I grasp his arm urging him to stand straighter, supporting him under my shoulders. “Trust me,” I whisper. He has no reason to believe me, but I suppose it doesn’t matter; his only other option is the dangling rope.

His mouth twitches in something of a grin. It can only be a reflex though, I’m surprised he’s lucid enough to slur out, “I do,” and when he does, I’m uncertain whether it’s in response to the mayor or in answer to my plea.

Either way he’s said the words; The ones that will save him from the gallows and bind him to a new fate

“Then I now pronounce you man and wife,” The Mayor’s voice booms over the crowd. “Congratulations Mr Mellark, you’ve been granted a pardon.”

The Hanging Tree Series

[weirdoldstans]

Stan gets made temporarily bladder incontinent (magic or medicine idc) and has to wear diapers until it clears up. He tries not to let Ford know, thinking it’s embarrassing having to wear them, he does find out, but he assures Stanley that this will only last a week, and there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But when Stan finds out he’s actually kind of into this? Boy he can never let Ford know now. He would die of embarrassment. Of shame.

But Ford being who he is, snoops through Stanley’s things one day, finding his diapers. Just regular, plain white adult diapers. When he asks Stan about, genuinely upset he may have missed something, Stan can only stutter, not wanting to say that he stopped needing them weeks ago, so Ford interprets that Stan was never cured. Going on and on about his bladder and finding a close doctor to go to about this. Stan, who’d rather his brother find out he was a freak than go to a Doctor just blurts out that he likes them. And then him and Ford are just staring at each other, Stan’s face red hot, Ford’s gaining a steady blush as he just says “…oh,” and walks back to their room.

Stan contemplates the pros and cons of jumping overboard when Ford comes back with his computer open to a web site that caters to adult diaper wearers and asks Stan to pick some designs out. And then switches tabs and tell him to pick some clothing and pacifiers and toys out.

Turns out all those weeks ago, when Stan did medically need the diapers, something was awoken in Ford, and he began researching all about it. Feeling ashamed for wanting to see Stanley all dressed and diapered up. Who would’ve thought that his baby brother was also into. Twins for you, I guess

OH I LOVE THIS VERY MUCH

ford discovering his kink for stan in diapers IMMEDIATELY going into research mode, finding out that lots of people are into this actually, finding all sorts of sites and forums that spark exciting- and, okay, rather embarrassing -ideas in him, but feeling bad bc surely stan is Suffering and ford is being a Terrible Brother

and god i love the idea of stan pissing off some magical creature so it curses him with this temporary incontinence- but in fact it has blessed him with new ways to have weird kinky sex with his brother! thanks, Piss Fairy!

[galacticnova3]

To be clear: the Master Crown is into no one. There’s no such thing as a “we” or “us” with it in the end. It might act like there is for a little bit after making itself known, just to get its hosts to drop their guard— a golden artifact immense power that speaks in your mind and gives hints and suggestions as to what you should do isn’t necessarily a bad thing if it isn’t seeking to replace you in your own body or something like that. If it’s saying you’ll be doing something together, and you’re still ultimately calling the shots, well, why not enjoy the power it brings? You can do anything you want! Cursed doesn’t always mean evil, it just means there’s something more or less permanent and arcane in nature attached to it, so maybe this spooky cursed crown isn’t actually all that bad. Besides, it isn’t as if nobody has heard rumors about Galaxia or the Triple Star’s true natures, and the knight and rat both helped save the world to some degree(twice if you count the events of Star Allies).

Of course what it doesn’t inform its wearer is that the “we” and “us” are very temporary, and it isn’t going to be the Crown that takes the back seat when things change. Said change won’t be instantaneous, though; if it has its way it will be so gradual its host won’t be able to tell the difference. First it’s nothing, then it starts making suggestions, then inspires ideas, influences your actions, thinks your thoughts for you, controls your body… It’s not quite like a ferocious monster devouring the soul in one fell swoop, but more akin to a disease with no outward symptoms. A parasite. It spreads slowly, feeds, feigns being beneficial, makes the host feel powerful to distract them from the fact that they’re beginning to rot from the inside, feeds, conceals the fact that their very mind is not immune to the infection. If all goes to plan, its wearer will be reduced to a husk in both body and soul without questioning it or the being that gave them so much power.

In some ways it’s better to stay ignorant like that. Winning once it has you is all but impossible regardless of your awareness, and it punishes resistance. Not necessarily directly, but perhaps in the way a trap punishes a struggling animal; tightening the snare the more they try to pull away, spreading the glue the more they struggle, letting them paint cage bars with their own blood as they thrash about. It’s not ideal for either of you, though, hence seeking to give the host a false sense of security. Convince them they’re in a castle and they won’t question all the walls around them. That’s the closest thing to mercy it will ever grant, really; the choice between thinking you’re in a warm embrace and realizing you’re being strangled, choked, drowned.

Not every being is susceptible to it, though, but those rare few are outliers, and hardly ever something it would see as even an inconvenience, let alone a threat. It wants to rule alone with absolute power, and if it gets its way, anything that it can’t control or assimilate will simply be destroyed; if it can’t have them, nobody can, not even the individuals themselves. It has no desire for peers, like-minded or not. If anything those sorts are adversaries; if the goal is complete and utter control, there are no allies and there is no friendly competition. There is only those it has power over, and those it does not. Accepting an equal would mean relinquishing control.

Anyways all that is to say the Master Crown doesn’t care about milfs and would probably also hate Star Dream for wanting to kill all of the things it wants to assimilate and/or rule over. Thank for comig to my ted talk

[lord-and-master]

My Dearest Enemy [9]

◤• Commander Peepers x Reader • ◢

╰┈➤ This is not slow burn at all and with a serious tone (just saying!). This is THE NINTH CHAPTER, you can read the rest here:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/222059481-my-dearest-enemy

Chapter Nine: But That Is Just Wishful Thinking

In the quarters of his former leader, now cleaned up and without embarrasing objects laying about, stood The Commander of The Watchdog Army. He was in front of a mirror, anxiously adjusting the collar of his uniform. A red cape flew over his shoulders, part of it wrapped around his neck, almost resembling a scarf. It was long, longer than his whole height, but he had a new advantage that allowed him to wear it without the fear of it falling under his feet.

To his surprise, ___ turned out to be quite a great robotic engineer.

The watchdog looked down at his new boots, their color a deep red, matching the other parts of his attire. And they weren't just a normal pair of shoes, inside, they hid a mechanism that granted the wearer to make them rise and shrink with a simple push of a button. It was a gift, something that the woman admitted to tinkering with before they even took over the ship, solidyfying the fact that she planned everything. Not only that, but they were also a symbol of Peepers' new beginning, of his new status. And knowing that, he couldn't help but grin evilishly at his reflection for a moment, his voice dropping to a mumble.

"Taller, more menacing... perfect." He almost let out a laugh of pure satisfaction.

After all, his height was always an insecurity.

Though he had other things to worry about at the time. His mind was a hurricane of thoughts, the weight of his new role hanging heavy on him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in his stomach. There was a plan in his head, as he rehearsed his speech over and over again, envisioning the cheers and the admiration. His scarlet eye scanned over his form, his hands reaching to straighten his outfit one final time. "You can do this, Peepers!" He whispered to himself, a small tint of confidence attached to his tone.

His orb, previously filled with turmoil, now glimmering with ambition. "I am Commander Peepers." He muttered, his expression becoming stern. "Leader of the Watchdog forces, and soon..." He paused, a hint of a vicious smile creeping onto his face. "Ruler of the Yonder Galaxy." The thought thrilled him, the idea of rule and power, it was absolutely intoxicating.

Evil will conquer the universe, all because of him.

With one final glance, he steeled himself. His shoulders squared, his expression became more serious. With one final whisper, "It's time.", he turned to the door. And as he left his new, reaaranged quarters, the weight of his new title became more real with each step he took. His heart was thrumming with anticipation of what was about to come.

As he rounded the corner, his eye fell on his second-in-command, ___, leaning casually against the wall, dressed in a fancy red dress. Her casual stance contrasted with the regal attire, and intriguing mix of casual elegance. The sight of her and the confidence visible, was a stark contrast to his own nervousness. Yet, it was comforting, a reminder that he was not alone in this endeavor. And with that in mind, everything seemed to fade away for a moment as he approached the woman, his anxiety forgotten if only temporary.

"Hey Commander, big speech today." She purred, her voice light, but her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and pride. "Nervous?" An eyebrow she raised, her usual smile tugging at the corners of her lips swiftly.

Peepers, the hint of edginess and excitement written all over his face, stopped in front of the human. He rolled his orb, her teasing tone familiar and actually quite comforting. "What are you talking about?" He retorted, attempting to act unfazed, his tone carrying lighthearted sass. "Nervous? Please." He scoffed in a playful way. "I'm the Commander, I don't get nervous."

At that the woman's smirk widened, her gaze twinkling with amusement at his effort to play it off. "Of course you are." She teased, the sarcasm and intrigue slipping from her tongue. "You've got that 'completely prepared' look all over you." With that she stepped closer. "But, you know," She leaned in, her volume lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's okay to be nervous."

Promptly, she pulled him closer, their lips meeting in the quiet isolation of the corridor. For a moment, he found himself melting into the sensation, his anxiousness fading away, replaced by the familiar flutter in his chest, the spark of pleasure. It was a secret they shared, a moment of connection, a strange indulgence they both knew they shouldn't have. The line between partnership and something more was blurred, their bond far more complex than mere business. And neither of them complained, not attempting to call it by name. Instead, they melted into the feeling of their surroundings fading into insignificance. It was just the warmth of their shared affection, the soft press of her body against his, and the flutter in their hearts. The peck was both brief and intense, a small solace amidst the chaos of their plans. And as they broke apart, the Commander felt a strange mix of embarrassment, satisfaction, and a bit of something more he wasn't ready to acknowledge.

When she pulled away, he struggled to maintain his composure, his expression betraying a hint of embarrassment, a faint heat lingering on his cheeks. He straightened his uniform, trying to regain his dignity, all the while looking around to ensure they hadn't been seen. "You're lucky no one else was here." He muttered, the statement filled with both shyness and amusement. It was a routine they had then, but he still felt like a teenager caught doing something forbidden.

The woman chuckled, a twinkle in her eyes, a silent promise that she wouldn't hesitate to humble him again if given the chance. She seemed to live for those moments, and he couldn't deny the thrill of their affair, the way it made butterflies fly around in his stomach.

It was a classified secret between partners in crime, a moment of weakness they couldn't push away, something only the two of them knew.

Suddenly, he felt her arm wrap around his, her voice dropping to that teasing tone he was so enchanted with. "Don't stress too much, Commander. I've got your back. And for the record..." She added, her grip tightening as she pressed her body closely against his side, her expression showing pure nonchalance. "You look good tall."

The touch alone sent a shiver down his spine. Her height, usually a distant observation, was in that moment an intimate connection, their heights matched by the boots she created just for him, allowing them to walk side by side. It was a symbol of their partnership, her support, their unity, evident for everyone to see. Together, they walked, a team, a union of strength and cunning. Their evil minds almost intertwined.

As they moved ahead, her words rang through his head, a blend of anxiety and reassurance. Her comment about him looking good taller was a playful jab, but it also felt genuine, a small praise that he found himself savoring. And so he let out a small sigh, trying to school his expression into a confident one, the anticipation and nerves creating a nausious sensation inside of him. Though as they approached the massive stage, the weight of his new role as a leader fully hit him. He was the person in charge, and yet... he held onto her arm, the physcial reminder of her presence and assistance. He took a moment, her touch a tether anchoring him to reality, a subtle sign that he wasn't truly alone. The human was his partner, his right-hand, a crucial piece he couldn't have planned for. Yet, there she was, her pure existence a pillar of strength.

In a matter of seconds, they reached their destination, the eyes of their army awaiting them. Seeing it, Peepers took another deep breath, the gesture of his second-in-command a silent assurance that he could do this, they could do it. And together, they stepped onto the stage.

The air was charged, a devilish mix of admiration and nervousness directed towards the duo. The room was filled with a murmur, the energy from the aliens palpable. The Commander felt the weight of their gaze, the anticipation heavy on the shoulders, while ___'s smirk was as confident as ever, her orbs scanning the crowd with a subtle air of superiority.

The Watchdogs were watching (har har), their scarlet hues filled with eagerness and wariness. Some had awe written all over their faces, others looked at the human with a hint of disdain and a trace of fear. Thruthfully, it was all a big buzz of energy, a testament to the recent shift in power. The murmurs among the crowd were getting louder, the changes felt in the air. However, Peepers lectured himself once more mentally, his eye closing and then re-opening with a new-found confidence.

"FELLOW WATCHDOGS!!!" His voice echoed through the area, his words commaning attention. He stepped towards the edge of the stage, a sense of authority visible in his small form. He could feel the gaze of his right-hand as she stepped away from him, a subtle reminder of her trust in him, which only served to boost his courage.

"The time has come for US to conquer the Galaxy!" He continued, surveying the crowd as the small aliens of the same race hanged onto his every word. "I know some of you may be skeptical, especially since Hater isn't here anymore. But mark my words! I promise you that under my leadership, we shall become the most fearsome and powerful fleet in the entire Galaxy!" He delcared, his finger high in the air.

The Watchdogs cheered, their voices joining together in a chorus of agreement. Some of them glanced at Peepers' new boots, surprised by the sudden increase in his height. The Commander noticed some of the glances, but he didn't care. In fact, he relished in the extra attention, and the added sense of authority it gave him.

"Today we begin a new era! A future led by me and my second-in-command!" With that he montioned to himself, and then to the woman in the red dress.

___'s head turned slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. She was leaning against the railling causally, her gaze unwavering, her stance relaxed. The mention of their partnership, Peepers as the man in charge and her as his right-hand, sent a wave of surprise and understanding through the crowd. Though there was also a slight hint of fear, they had no idea what to expect from the human female. But she only waved at them, like it was just another day.

The sight of her casually leaning against the balustrade, her gesture almost comical. She was clearly enjoying the atmosphere, the trepidation that her presence alone stirred, the power she held. Her demeanor was a stark contrast to the serious speech of her boss.

Meanwhile, Peepers was in the zone, giving his speech with a confident edge, his words resonating with everyone, his voice commanding their attention. He was in his element, his vision, the future he had been aiming for finally in reach. His speech continued, words about their shared struggle and the hope for a new era filling the air. The new second-in-command, still casually leaned against the barrier watched, her smirk a little wider, a hint of pride flickering in her eyes. The Commander delved deeper, his declarations a blend between authority and inspiriation. That was his moment, his chance to take control, to lead. And the casual approach of his partner was a perfect contradiction, a subtle reminder of their dynamic, her silent support a source of comfort in the chaos.

He truly enjoyed her presence.

"No longer will we have the obnoxious holidays that our former leader saw fit!" The watchdog in charge started pacing around the stage, back and forth, his orb narrowed as he reminded his army of the past times. "No more 'Hateful Days' and 'Lord Hater Mondays'!"

The army laughed, some soldiers shaking their heads at the silly names, agreeing with their new boss. One watchdog shouted from the back. "No more 'Sassy Saturdays' either, right Commander?!" The crowd chuckled at the reference to another foolish holiday the skeleton had attempted to impose.

Peepers grimaced, his expression mirroring that of the men in the room. "Yes! No more 'Sassy Saturdays' as well!" He exclaimed, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement at the absurdity of the past leader's choices. His right-hand however almost chuckled to herself, appreciating the irony of the whole situation.

The Commander cleared his throat. "No more ridiculous holidays. No more nonsensical traditions, no more meaningless celebrations. We move forward into an era of seriousness, discipline, and control!" He threw his hands in the air to emphasize his point, a devilish intent appearing in his scarlet orb. Then, he looked to the side for a moment. "We have also rid ourselves of the... less pleasant parts of our organization." When he heard one of the watchdogs snicker, he decided to continue. "Yes, that means Captain Tim."

At that every soldier started jumping in the air, excitement and happiness clear. And if they had access to fireworks and balloons in that moment, they would've definitely used them to celebrate the revealed infromation.

Yes. They hated Hater's pet that much.

Peepers raised his voice, cutting through the chatter. "But we must not let the joy distract us, my Watchdogs!" He said. "We have to focus, train, and work together. We have a lot to work on and we cannot falter!" A wave of groans could be heard all around, but the Commander quickly glared at them, the sound of it almost like hitting a belt, silencing the sounds of displeasure immediately. And so, with a swift movement, he gestured towards his partner. "All of you will be having sparring session with my right-hand!"

The crowd stirred, murmurs and gasps of surprise, and some soldiers even seemed uneasy at the suggestion. They knew how strong she was, how she had overpowered them during the takeover of the Skullship. Some exchanged apprehensive glances with each other, the thought of training with the woman daunting but also intriguing. ___, however, looked unfazed, her smirk widening with subtle amusement, enjoying the atmosphere she created.

It was her idea to lead the training sessions after all.

"Don't worry boys." The human placed her hand under her chin, leaning her elbow on the railing as she watched them in that sly way of hers. "I promise not to hurt any of you. Not too much, at least." She added the last part, her smile becoming a bit evil as her eyes flickered with mischief. "I can't make any promises about our Commander, though."

Her words sent a wave of discomfort through the army, a mix of hesitation and apprehension. Peepers however shot her a stern glance, a silent command to be professional. The Watchdogs fidgeted, unsude of what to make of this situation. They knew their leader was no pushover, yet the addition of ___ in the mix had made things much more intimidating. The tension in the air was palpable, their nervousness evident.

The Leader straightened up, the atmosphere turning serious once more, his focus returning to the task at hand. Outside the ship's window, a distant planet approached, their first real invasion awaiting them. Knowing that, he took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the planetoid, his mind shifting into strategic mode. "Today, we conquer Planet J955. Not only is it the beginning of our plan, but also a way for all of you to prove yourselves!" The energry among the army swelled, the anticipation and excitement for their invasion filling the air. "The soldiers that fall are going to be the first to train with ___!"

Grop, it was almost like a threat.

Everyone in the crowd started nodding frantically at his statement, ready to do everything in their power to avoid the woman's wrath. Seeing it, the human could only let out a chuckle. The thought of a whole army of aliens fearing her was pure amusement to her.

"Now, I want all of you to go and get ready!" The Commander's voice was filled with an evil intent, his serious expression turning into a glare. "Don't disappoint me." With that, everyone saluted and ran out of the massive area of the ship, not even bothering to look back at their leader, shivers running down their spines at the change of behavior.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As everyone was focused on the upcoming invasion, Peepers, knowing his right-hand's ethusiasm for powerful weapons, decided to surprise her with the finest blaster he had. In a quiet moment, when the rest of his soldiers already left the locker room, where every other gun hanged at different hangers (like it was some kind of changing area, but for deadly objects instead of clothes), the Commander slowly approached her.

He saw her silently contemplating which one to take, her arms crossed over her chest and an intrigued spark in her orbs. Knowing that she couldn't decide, it only fueled his desire to gift her his own creation, crafted with the use of his personal designs. A masterpiece of technology, its form holding a promise of swift and effective devastation. And also, a characteristic touch - a small cat sticker near the trigger. Truly, it was both terrifying and adorable.

Exactly what he thought of the woman before him.

...

Wait- WHAT?!- NO!!!

Quickly, the small watchdog shook his head, replacing the thoughts with excitement. "___." He called out for her attention, the devious present in his gloved hands.

The woman looked over at him, her eyebrow raised, curious as to what her leader wanted. When she noticed his serious expression and the object in his palms, her interest was piqued. "I have something for you." As he held the weapon towards her, her eyes widened in surprise, though she quickly replaced the emotion with her usual amusement.

She reached out, her fingers gracing the gift. The sticker caught her off guard at first, but then she grinned. "You're such a charmer, Commander." She teased, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and delight. She held the blaster for a moment, admiring its sleek design, her gaze lingering on the cat sticker and back to the whole gun. "This is... beautiful." She mumbled, her mind visibly already working through how to best utilize it.

Peepers felt a surge of pride, his own smile hidden by his stern demeanor, as he watched her run her fingers along his creation's surface. Her words were teasing, but they held something truthfull, a bit of satisfaction that his offering was well received. And knowing that, a subtle blush tinged his cheeks. "I designed it myself." He shifted on his feet, his voice low, trying not to sound too proud. But even so, a tiny bit of smugness still found its way into his tone. "I thought you would appreciate a weapon worthy of our battles." He added, his chest puffing out a bit. "And the cat stricker was for extra charm. It's a little touch, but it seemed to fit you."

Because she was like a cat stalking its prey, it being - him.

The woman couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of glee in her eyes. "You're full of surprises, Commander." She teased, a smirk on her lips. She ran her fingers along the design once more, the sticker a reminder of his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, it's perfect." She assured, her tone voice almost fond, her gaze turning soft for just a moment, but it was quickly replaced with her usual snarky look.

With a quick movement, she stepped closer to him, her gaze flickering with a playful challenge. She had changed into a form-fitting outfit, casual yet effective, (and leaving the watchdog to admire her curves) and was looking more at him than his blaster. She traced her digits along his chest, her tone lowering a bit. "I'll need to try out this new gift... and...." She leaned closer, her eyes focused on his. "Maybe we can explore other options after out little invasion." Her words suggestive, her fingertips traced up to his face, finding their way to his cheek.

Caught off guard by her sudden approach, the watchdog heated up, the flutter in his heart appearing once more. He stiffened for a moment, the world vanishing into the background, his focus solely on her. He could hear his villainous muscle pounding in his ear, and the warmth of her touch on his eye. The suggestion in her sentance sent a shiver through him, embarrasment and anticipation flowing at the same time. "E-Explore?"

And then, she pressed the blaster that he gifted her against his crotch in a way that caused him to fidget. After doing so, she leaned closer, her breath right next to his ear, her voice a mere whisper. "I mean..." She purred, her tone turning more lustful. "Explore other ways of... destressing after our conquest."

Oh my.

Her closeness was overwhelming, causing the Commander to turn an even deeper shade of scarlet, her implications leaving little to the imagination. The words 'destressing' and 'explore' echoed in his mind, his chest hitching slightly, his breath catching. His heart was a rapid beat, intrigue swirling inside, his focus entirely on her in the moment of intimate tension. It was a mix of challenge and suggestion, too much for him to handle. His mouth opened to respond, but no words came out, his vocal lost amidst the flurry of his throughts. He was trying to recover from her bold gesture, trying to ignore the effect she had on him. And seeing it, she chuckled, a sound that made his heart jump.

She stepped back, taking the blaster with her, an action that reminded him of their purpose. He watched her, his brain replaying her statement, the way her breath felt against his ear, the tension between them undeniable. "Right." He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "We need to focus on the invasion." With that he shook his head. "Focus is key." He muttered, trying to maintain his professional image. "We can celebrate afterwards." Adding that, his voice gained a hint of composure.

Her expression was nonchalant, as if she hadn't just set his mind ablaze with her suggestions. And as he prepared to leave, she shot him a sly smile, her tone cool and composed. "Looking forward to it." She replied, her words dripping with innuendo, clearly enjoying how she could make him squirm.

Peepers, still slightly flushed, managed to nod, trying to maintain his composure as he turned away, grabbing his weapon of choice and making his way towards their soldiers. Her suggestion lingered in his mind, a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation stirring in his chest. He tried to maintain a stoic expression, even as his heart raced with the mix of anticipation and embarrassment. He watched as the soldiers readied themselves, his eye briefly glancing towards her, a reminder of the complexities between them.

The Commander was acutely aware of his newfound position as a leader, the absence of Hater a stark reminder of his responsibilities. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. His mind was at war with itself, his thoughts and emotions swirling within him like a tempest. She had a knach for affecting him even when she was not next to him, her words and gestures lingering in his head like a persistent nudge towards her allure. But he needed to stay composed, to be strong, and to lead. He wouldn't let her distract him. And so he took a moment to steady himself, his heart still pounding loudly in his chest. Yet, he had to push on, to lead his soldiers into the upcoming battle.

After all, the battlefield was no place for the weakness of emotions.

The watchdog in charge watched from the command deck, the view of the planet getting closer nad closer. His face warm, his fingers tapping against his weapons handle. He knew this was his first invasion as the leader, and he couldn't help the fluttering anxiousness in his stomach. It was surreal, and he didn't quite know what to expect.

Additionaly, despite his best efforts, he found his mind slipping into thoughts about her and her bold demeanor. He tried to breathe, to regain his composure. But every time he looked at her, her words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of their lingering words, the promised 'exploration'. It was a struggle to remain stoic. Soon however, he watched as she descended to the planet's surface as they arrived at their destination. His eye followed her form, a slight flutter of nerves as she winked at him. The tension still felt by his whole form, even amid the anticipation of the battle ahead. But with a quick jump, he readied himself at the exit, his army at his back. He steeled himself, his focus sharpening despite the emotions whirling inside of his chest.

As he waited for the signal to leap he felt his mind still swirling, her wink echoing in his mind, her words a constant reminder of the promise. His chest was tight, his heart hammering. The mix of excitement and anxiety was overwhelming, and it took every bit of self-control not to let any sign of the turmoil inside him show. Then, he heard her voice, cutting through the tension in the air like a blade.

"Attention Planet-..." She paused for a moment. "Whatever it's called." Clearly, she didn't care enough to remember, in classic ___ fashion, the whole situation almost making her boss facepalm, but of course that didn't stop her from continuing. With a deep breath, she raised her voice. "Prepare to kneel before your new leader!" With that, her eyes shot up at the exit of the ship, catching a glimpse of the person in question. "Commander Peepers!" There was no denying her sultry tone, the seductiveness in her orbs, the way she drew out his name making his heart skip a beat. The command held a subtle power within. It sent a shiver down his spine, the tension lingering in his chest.

The Commander tried to channel his focus into something positive, thinking about the boots. His new height added an element of command, made him feel like he was in control. He held himself straight, trying to keep his emotions in check, his expression serious. She could be as seductive as she wanted, but he had a battle to lead.

It was show time.

His voice hardened as they landed, his mind clearing of the distracting thoughts. He was ready to face the challenge ahead; but of course, there was an immediate question. Before he could even utter a single word, one of the planet's inhabitants, completely out of touch, asked, "Hey! Where is Lord Hater?"

And surely, the inquiry sent a wave of frustration through the man in charge.

The very mention of the former leader caused a jolt of anger to rise inside Peepers' stomach, his orb twitching. He had hoped to start off on a more assertive, commanding note, but the question left him rolling his eye, a flicker of annoyance evident. He gritted his teeth, his patience already stretching thin. The fact that they had the audacity to even mention Hater was a insult. And so, Peepers, not in control of his emotions, yelled at the person who asked. "Lord Hater is no longer the leader!" He snapped back, his tone sharp and firm. "We're here to claim this planet for our own empire!"

The inhabitants, seemingly unfazed by his words, merely gave a shrug, their response catching him off guard. "That's too bad," one of them muttered, their nonchalance only adding to the frustration that was already seething in the Commander. Their indifference was a reminder that even with his outburst, they weren't taking him seriously.

And knowing that, his irritation escalated further, every muscle tensing beneath his light orchid skin. "TOO BAD?!" he echoed indignantly, his voice rising. "Too bad?! You should be groveling at my feet!" The audacity of the residents (a bunch of bunnies for the record) was only fueling his fury. He was already on edge, and their flippant reaction was pushing him to his limit.

That's where ___ suddenly chimed in. "Oh Commander, calm yourself." She responded to his outburst with her sultry tone. With a quick step, she started moving towards the aliens that lived on the planet, her gaze mischievious. "So you aren't scared, hm?" Asking that, she tilted her head slyly, not a hint of devilish intent in her human frame.

Her intervention and her soothing tone seemed to catch Peepers off-guard, his anger cut short. Her words, combined with her sweet tone, were a subtle reminder of her presence, her sly actions keeping the peoples' attention, while he tried to compose himself. But he couldn't shake his frustration entirely, her interjection barely putting a dent in his riled-up emotions. The sight of her moving towards the planet inhabitants, however, kept him in place, his eye narrowing in anticipation.

And so she stepped forward, her voice honeyed and assertive. "You guys are lucky Hater isn't here," she started, a sly smile playing at her lips. She sauntered towards them, the situation completely in her control. "We wouldn't even be here if he was. He'd just let you guys walk all over him, and you'd remain unconquered," she said, her voice oozing charisma. As she continued, she added a hint of threat. "But he's not here." She almost laughed.

"And now... we get to conquer this planet without mercy," she said, her voice gaining a sharp edge. Her eyes glinted with a mix of determination and excitement. "And we're not going to hold back." The threat was veiled under the soft tone, her words lingering in the air, the warning clear in her voice. Peeps watched, a silent witness to her assertive approach.

She was too natural, it didn't sit right.

Her words were a stinging reminder that they would have remained unconquered under Hater's rule, the comparison rubbing the new leader the wrong way. Her bold approach was an annoucement that she wasn't one to hold back, that she was not to be toyed with, and that the planet dwellers were about to get a taste of what it meant now that the skeleton was no longer in charge. Peepers stood there, his eye narrowing as he watched her, her confidence and assertiveness in stark contrast to his prior outburst. He felt a mix of annoyance and admiration for her smooth approach, a subtle respect for her skill at keeping control while he had almost lost his composure. Meanwhile, the inhabitants seemed uneasy under her attention, her words causing a mix of reactions in the crowd.

A few aliens snickered at her boldness however, their amusement evident, underestimating the duo in the process, seeing her as just a human and the watchdogs just a bunch of eyeballs. Though ___, catching their skepticism, shot each target with a precise accuracy that caught everyone off guard.

With her expression still carefree, she gave a nonchalant look at the group for a second, a smirk playing at her lips. "Oops, my finger slipped," she said softly, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. But a dangerous spark was visible in her eyes. "Guess my aim is just too good," she added, a subtle warning in her tone. Her finger tapped the trigger of the blaster, making the inhabitants visibly flinch, her warning clearly understood. The tension in the air was palpable, the aliens finally aware of her skill and her deadly nature.

"So, you're going to surrender or...?" She trailed off, aiming the weapon at everyone in the crowd, slowly tracing each figure, the smile never leaving her face.

The massive group was stunned into silence, their amusement replaced by fear. No one moved, and the tension was thick in the air. After a moment, they exchanged glances, silently deciding to surrender, realizing the risk she posed. "S-Surrendering sounds like a good plan," one of them muttered, others nodding in agreement.

"You think?" The woman smiled, twirling the blaster in her hand. "What a shame that we don't care." Her cold gaze turned to her leader, Peepers, and she tilted her head innocently.

"Right Commander?" Her eyes were hollow once again.

The Watchdog Leader watched, his orb catching hers, his thoughts spinning at her sudden shift in tone, her words sharp and cold compared to her earlier playful self. Something in him stirred, a mix of surprise and, against his better judgment, a subtle flicker of fluster. He shifted, his chest tightening as her icy gaze turned to him, and her question. He steeled himself, clearing his throat. "Precisely," he replied, his voice a mix of professionalism and determination, masking his internal struggle. Still feeling the lingering effects of her sudden shift, he cleared his mind, his focus returning to the task at hand. Her gesture was a command, and he quickly complied. He straightened, his mind shifting into a leader, focused on his mission, his eye glinting with pride and determination.

"This planet is now under new rule! MY RULE!" He barked, his voice loud and clear, the soldiers behind him reacting immediately. "WATCHDOGS!" He moved his hand in the air, and with a swift movement threw it ahead, a gesture telling them to attack.

"YES, SIR!"

The eyeball soldiers launched into action, their disciplined nature evident as they followed his command, a mix of anticipation and determination filling the air. They moved with precise coordination, their skills honed over years of training (though some of them lacked that certain spark). The aliens before them were caught off guard by the sudden leap into action, the Watchdogs moving with a well-practiced synchrony that spoke of experience. It was a show of strength and a promise of control, Peepers' presence a clear statement of authority.

"You know what I always say.." The human suddenly started, her hand in the air in a commanding gesture. "Surrender is just a bit.. boring." With that, she threw her palm ahead, a signal to start the chaos, for the watchdogs that were inside the ship, taking care of controls, to start the chain of explosions and detonations.

Peepers couldn't help but get a little shiver down his spine as her words echoed, her gesture a cue for chaos. Within moments, their troops from the ship started a chain of explosions and detonations, a symphony of power and fire. He watched it all, feeling his chest beat in anticipation, his heart quickening at the sight and sounds of the explosions.

It was exactly what he wanted. What he dreamed of.

To be feared and respected. Not the other way around.

And he didn't need Hater. As long as ___ was by his side, they could conquer anything. He didn't have the fearful look, but she had her witty tongue. And that, accompanied by his brains and will to take over the Galaxy - it was just perfect.

The Commander, his chest filled with pride and excitement, caught himself watching her more than he was watching the explosions. Her demeanor, her confidence, the fear she instilled in others. It was perfection, a compliment to his strategic mind and his army's power. They were the perfect duo, conquering not through fear of him, but fear of her. It was exactly why he didn't dare take over on his own before. He looked too pure to spread evil throughout the Galaxy, because of that he and the watchdogs fell under Hater's rule. He was a symbol, the thing everyone feared, but it didn't matter since his head wasn't in the game.

And ___? Peepers knew well that they shared the same goal. Even if she was a little bit too excited for mayhem sometimes.

The human female, her eyes glinting with the reflection of the explosions, had a manic smile on her lips. She watched with delight, her heart filled with adrenaline. It was obvious by the look in hers orbs, that she thrived in the moment of chaos. And thruthfully, the sight alone was enough to make the watchdog commander gaze at her softly.

She was so... sickly-sweet.

Suddenly, she turned to him with a sense of challenge in her eyes. "Come join me on the battlefield, Commander. Or are you scared?" She teased, her voice holding a tint of arrogance. Her words sounded like a verbal punch to him, a suggestion that she doubted his bravery.

"I'm not scared." He sighed internally, his chest filling with determination. "I simply prioritize strategy over recklessness." He attempted to justify his position, his eyebrow twitching.

"Oh, but everything's going according to the plan." She tilted her head slightly, her fingers trailing over the cat sticker on her blaster. "Right now, this place is a playground. Our playground.Why not indulge in a little... competition?"

Peepers, his composure wavering slightly, found himself both flustered and frustrated by her teasing and confidence. His hands gripped his own weapon tighter. "A playground?" He repeated wryly, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and amusement. He glanced at the explosions, his mind considering her suggestion. She was right; everything was going according to plan, and the battleground was chaotic, a perfect opportunity for a competition. A part of him didn't want to show weakness, but her attitude and the flickering light in her eyes fueled his hesitation. "What do you have in mind?" He asked, trying to maintain a semblance of nonchalance.

At that her lips curved into a smirk. "A competition, right here, right now." She began, lighheartedly yet her tone was filled with challenge. "We'll see who can take down more pests, simple as that." She stated. "A competition for the title of the Most Effective Watchdog." With that her eyes trailed over her own figure. "...or human, that is."

The Commander was torn. His desire to maintain his strategic role warred with the temptation of a competition, of proving himself against her. Her suggestion, the challenge, her smugness, the lingering effects of his previous embarrassment, the excitement of the battlefield. His heart thumped against his chest, his mind buzzing with conflicting feelings. "You think you can beat me?" He asked, a hint of challenge in his voice, his eyelid furrowed, his pride unwilling to back down. "Our last competition didn't exactly end in your victory."

"Oh, but it did." She smirked down at him. "The kiss we shared was the very testament of it."

Grop.

Peepers felt his cheeks burn, his composure slipping. "T-That--" He sputtered, unprepared for her boldness. His mind stumbled over her words, the memory of their shared affection a vivid one. "That- That doesn't count!"

She tilted her head, watching him with enjoyment. "And why wouldn't it?" She taunted, her voice almost teasing as she held her new blaster firmly in her grip. "I did manage to reduce you into a stuttering, flustered mess." As she reminded him, her orbs glimmered with mischief. "That to me, is a clear win." She twirled her weapon. "But now..." She looked into his eye, at the same time quickly covering his head with her new blaster, deflecting a shot from a foe effortlessly. "You can prove that you're better, at least on the battlefield."

As she said it, an explosion erupted behind her, making her features light up with a warm, soft light. And the sight alone was enough to make the watchdog's breath hitch. Her beauty, highlighted by the detonation, for a second left him speechless.

She was mesmerizing.

And she knew. Knew the exact effect she had on him, the way her words could shake his heart, her actions make him flustered. And the image of her, so powerful and alluring, he knew she was right. If he couldn't win on the battlefield he couldn't truly win at all. His heart pounded in his chest as he swallowed, meeting her gaze "Alright," he finally managed to say, his voice a mix of determination and something softer. "Challenge accepted."

"Good." She purred, then quickly reached down and threw the helmet over his eye in a playful manner, blocking his vision, a nudge towards their last contest - the one in which he wore a blinfold. "Don't hold back, Commander." And with that said, she ran ahead, the blaster she was gifted by her superior held tightly in her grasp.

As she threw the piece of his armor over his head, the gesture sent a jolt of surprise through him. Her words stirred domination and defiance within him. He stumbled back, catching himself, his mind snapping back into focus. But the way she called him by his title, mixed with her sensual tone, it made his heart skip a beat. However, he couldn't let her think she had the upper hand. With a swift grit of his teeth, he fixed his helmet. "Oh, you're on."

His mind cleared as he focused on his goal.

Rushing ahead, he gripped his weapon tighter, the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins. He had a mission, determination propelling him forward. As he reached her, the butterflies in his stomach fluttered, his mind concentrated on proving himself to her. He wouldn't let his embarrassment or flusteredness hinder his performance, not this time. She was a mystery, and even in such a competition, he knew that it wasn't only about defeating foes.

It was about getting closer to her.

The competition was fierce, Peepers was aware of the eyes on him, his soldiers, and her... it made his heart soar, his determination flaring high. He focused on the task at hand, his orb scanning the battlefield, picking his targets and eliminating them with ease. Her form was a constant presence in his peripheral vision, every fiber of his being a beat every time she moved, every time she was lit by an explosion, she was both a distraction and a target, a challenge, and he was determined to match her, though he tried not to think how amazing she looked in battle.

But as time went on, he found himself watching her when he should be focusing on his enemies, his heart almost escaping when she moved, his thoughts a battlefield of determination and distracting emotions. Every shot from her blaster, every move of her body had him on edge, watching her not just fight but enjoy it. Her demeanor was confident and thrilling, her smirk lingering, as if conquering this planet was just an ordinary thing for her. It was a sight to behold, a mix of beauty and power, her natural confidence captivating him completely.

As a new leader, the responsibilities mixed with his emotions, his nerves pounding with both pride and nervousness. The Watchdogs fought fiercely, his soldiers under his command, their actions under his leadership. ___ her grace and strength so evident, commanded an attention all her own. His thoughts were a swirling mix of admiration and a feeling of uncertainty. He tried to focus on his duties, giving commands, ensuring the Watchdogs' coordination and also his own competition. But his mind was clouded, filled with thoughts of her.

He was trying to push aside his emotions, trying to focus on the battle, on his duties as the one in charge. But every time he glanced at her, it felt like a jolt to his heart, his leadership role and feelings at odds. It was a constant battle within him, the rational, commanding part of him fighting against the emotional, smitten part.

The human woman, his second-in-command, his partner. He couldn't deny the connection they shared, the trust and reliance that added to his whirlwind. Every command she followed, every wink she threw at him, was a mix of admiration and a sense of responsibility. And in that moment he realized he trusted her, valued her.

Her presence, her guidance... it was a constant flutter  in his chaotic sea of feelings.

 

With every passing moment, his appreciation for her grew, his admiration blossoming into something deeper and more complex. The man knew she was his right-hand, his partner in conquest. But her mere presence and demeanor had taken him by surprise, her fierce beauty and her strength leaving him utterly captivated. Realizing his growing affection for her, he felt a mix of exhilaration and slight discomfort.

He never felt anything like that for a woman, especially not a human one.

She was becoming his weakness, her whole being a constant reminder of the war within him, his emotions overwhelming his rational mind. He knew he needed to resist, to keep his feelings in check, but with her by his side, he found himself yearning for something more than just command. Was it wrong? He didn't know.

And even as they finally took over the planet and Peepers' was being thrown in the air by his fellow soldiers, all he could stare at was his second-in-command.

The triumphant cries of victory rang out around him. But his attention was singular, completely fixed on her. For the briefest moment, he ignored everything else, his feelings overshadowing everything around him. His eye, usually sharp and determined, softened as he gazed at her, his stare a mix of respect, adoration, and a hint of vulnerability. It was a fleeting moment, his heart thumping in his chest.

And she noticed it.

While dusting off her clothes, she gave him that usual sly smile of hers, that betrayed nothing, not even a hint of deeper affection. And yet, he could feel that there was something between them. Something more than just random kisses in the hallway of the Skullship.

The world might have cheered around them, but his focus was on her. There was more to them, he could feel it. He knew it. His eye met hers, a flash of emotion within the swirl of passion and vulnerability. It was unspoken, yet the tension between them was evident, making his heart beat in his chest, despite the chaos around them. Their shared moments had laid a foundation and it was hard to ignore.

Her grin, her subtle gesture, it held a thousand unspoken words for him. He saw it as something more than a simple smile, it was a glimpse of something deeper, something he yearned to understand. It felt like she was sharing a small piece of her true self, a hint of that depth he sensed beneath her usual facade. And so his world faded into a blur as his focus fixated on her.

Her smile was the brightest part of his moment of victory.

While her smirk angered him before, then it was something he found comforting. It was a part that he couldn't imagine her without. Before, it had been a source of frustration and embarrassment for him, but now... now it was a soothing sight. An aspect of her, an attribute he wouldn't change, a slice of her he was becoming used to, even fond of. He admired her strength and her beauty, but her smile, it was an anchor in his ever-fluctuating emotions.

And then, he saw her, pumping her fist in the air, just like the rest of his soldiers. She was proud of him, in that usual way of hers. It was also a sign of defeat from her, the sign of his victory in their little competition. For a brief moment, he was frozen, his mind caught in the sight of her. Her pride, expressed with that smug gesture, was visible and it made his heart skip several beats. She was proud of him, the thought repeated in his mind. It meant more to him than he dared to admit, his chest tight with affection, his mind going dizzy.

All he saw was her, her gesture the epitome of her quiet but undeniable approval.

He wanted to capture that moment of pride, to take her somewhere private, to be alone with her. To claim that kiss, to find solace in her presence. He kept a cool exterior, but his mind spun with a mix of affection, longing, and a hint of amusement at his own internal conflict. But as much as he wanted to stay focused on her, he knew he had duties to attend to now that the physical fight was over. The battle wasn't the only struggle, the paperwork was always a headache. But his thoughts kept flickering back to her, his emotions a hurricane he couldn't shake off. His duties were the anchor, keeping him from giving in to his desires. For now.

However he noticed her gaze, an invintantion, a nudge to see her when everything was done. Maybe it would be that day, maybe tomorrow, but it didn't matter. As long as he got to see her. In that moment, amidst the celebration, the adrenaline, and the lingering presence of the battle, Peepers realized something that made his heart move in an even, yet fast, rythm.

He was falling in love. Falling for her.

The realization was a mix of surprise and certainty, his feelings swirling like a raging storm, the revelation making him acutely aware of how much she had woven into his thoughts, into his life. He was not merely affected by her beauty or power, but he was starting to feel something more complex. The way her smirk made his stomach do a twirl, how much he enjoyed her company, her boldness, the thought that he could trust her, it all added up to the reality that he was slowly becoming infatuated with his second-in-command.

She had captured his villainous heart in ways he had never expected.

But he also knew that his feelings had come too soon, that they didn't know each other well enough yet for such strong emotions to bloom. But in the swirling chaos of his thoughts and emotions, he made a resolution, a dedication to understand her, to unveil the enigma that was ___. He was determined to get closer, to learn about her. His feelings weren't going to just remain a mystery, he wanted to know her.

All of her.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Old Friends #4

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Note: Charlie, the doctor, uses they/them pronouns.

Warnings: implied past starvation, violence

Laith picked at the food on the tray. He’d been stuck in the complex for a week, and there was no end in sight.

Techmaster had wheeled in a tv and dvd player a while ago, but Laith had already exhausted the stack of movies and there was only so much on Netflix he was interested in.

Currently, The Two Towers (extended edition) was humming along on the screen as he pushed around the potatoes on his plate.

He wasn’t hungry, but he should probably eat anyway. The doctor, Charlie, had told him he was nearly fifteen pounds underweight.

Nightclaw had always been stingy with food.

Laith scratched at the power dampener on his ankle. It was at an awkward place; he’d rather it be around his arm or something. But he wasn’t going to ask.

The other restraints had been removed, but Guardian didn’t want him using his powers to slip away. 

Begrudgingly, Laith could see how it made sense. He had information; they weren’t going to let him go. 

He ate another forkful of potatoes. At least the food was okay.

___________________

Theo sat back in his chair, twirling a pen. He was barely watching the upload progress on the computer; it had been three days and it was still stuck at 68% progress.

He hated the waiting game. He’d run out of things to tinker with, his desk a mess of screwdrivers, wrenches, and a bolt cutter.

He didn’t feel like working on his big projects either.

Theo stared up at the high ceiling. Mateo wasn’t taking care of the cobwebs like he said he would.

The computer beeped, so suddenly he nearly fell out of his chair.

He righted himself. The progress bar shuddered forward in a lurch, and there it was.

Nightclaw’s entire server system, available right at his fingertips. Theo settled his hands on the keyboard.

Where to start?

___________________

Nightclaw’s filing system was clean and organized, which made it easy to navigate. But the sheer volume of notes and documents was overwhelming.

Power dampeners, power, p, p, p…

Power dampener was not under ‘P’. Or ‘d’. Or even ‘w’ for world domination. Not that Nightclaw had a folder named ‘world domination’.

What was under ‘P’ was ‘Pictures, Laith’. The tiny pixelated icons were splashed with red and pale peach dots, blood on skin.

Theo hovered over the icon of an image, hesitating. 

He clicked the back button. Laith didn’t need more invasions of privacy.

___________________

Theo had thought about worst case scenarios when Beatrice told him Nightclaw was experimenting with power dampeners, but his imagination apparently had nothing on the supervillain’s. 

He scanned the blueprints. 

From what he could tell, one of the designs was explosive, throwable dampeners. When they hit a target, the dampender exploded, covering the victim in a fine powder that stopped their abilities.

Temporary, but enough that Nightclaw could kill or capture whoever he wanted.

The other design was a much nastier version of Laith’s shock collar. There was no lock, designed to be soldered onto the neck. Tiny, needle-like spikes poked towards the flesh of the wearer. The metal had been switched out for a sturdier alloy.

He zoomed in one of the lines of notes, but the screen went black.

White text appeared on the screen.

Catch me if you can, before Clarksville gets leveled. Two hours. XOXO

___________________

Laith caught them just before they left.

“It’s a trap,” he warned. “He’ll kill you.”

“He’s tried before,” shrugged Beatrice, “and hasn’t managed it.”

“Yet,” muttered Laith.

Theo pulled on his kevlar. “We’ll be fine,” he said, but this time he was unsure. Those dampeners looked flawless. It was only a matter of how long they could dodge.

“Be back soon,” winked Mateo, scooping up Theo and climbing up into the sky.

___________________

“Come on,” said Charlie, “we’ll watch on the computer.”

They led Laith over to the massive desk, pulling up the feed of Clarksville news cameras.

Laith never understood the fascination of watching superpowered people thrash each other. He looked away from the screen, his eyes falling on the bolt cutters and wrenches on the table.

Charlie pulled up a tab of another news station, and then another, until they could see the fight from four different angles.

Laith looked up.

It was going well, it seemed. Three on one, until a boom sounded in the distance. From the shake of the cameras, it must have been a huge blast.

Guardian zoomed off to save lives, and it was just Warrior and Techmaster dodging Nightclaw’s weapons.

Laith watched the blurs on the screen move. He bit his nails in worry.

Nightclaw threw a- a something at Warrior, and this time she wasn’t fast enough.

She went down, cratering towards the earth.

Techmaster shot a grapple towards a skyscraper, intercepting her fall. Laith let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

But with Warrior down, and Guardian busy with yet another bomb going off, Techmaster was alone.

Nightclaw advanced on him, twirling his blade. 

Laith knew the specific stalk of the supervillain. He was aiming to kill.

Laith snatched the bolt cutters off the desk, severed his dampener, and left for Clarksville, Charlie’s shouting still in his ears.

___________________

Laith stumbled out of the shadow. The air smelled of smoke, and there was screaming in the distance.

He was on the right street, certainly. In fact, he’d landed exactly between Nightclaw and Techmaster.

What was he thinking?

Nightclaw stared at him, dumbfounded, before his face curled into a sick twisted smile.

“Aw, here to join the fun, darling?”

Laith scrambled to his feet.

“Get out of here!” shouted Techmaster behind him.

Nightclaw flexed his grip on the blade, a horribly familiar gesture that made him want to run.

He didn’t have the energy to teleport away, using all his juice to get there in the first place.

Nightclaw made a single step forward, and Laith turned and bolted.

___________________

“Bea, come on,” he muttered, shaking her by the shoulders. He managed to get off most of the powder that downed her in the precious few moments Laith had bought them, but those moments were almost up.

He didn’t want to find Laith dead on the pavement, but the more he waited for Beatrice, the more likely that would be.

She groaned, still groggy.

He couldn’t wait for her any longer.

Theo grappled into the skyline, scanning as he vaulted across the rooftops.

The streets were empty, but the smog still made it hard to see.

But then, he saw a blurry figure on the ground.

He ziplined down.

___________________

Nightclaw’s fist dripped with blood, but he didn’t stop hitting Laith until Theo tackled him.

Nightclaw shouted in surprise as they rolled on the ground. He shoved him away with his super strength, and narrowed his eyes at Theo’s interference.

A chill ran up his spine at the expression of hatred on Nightclaw’s face, wholly different from the detached “my-toy-is-no-longer-amusing” demeanor he was used to.

Laith pushed himself up to his knees. “Don’t, Master,” he whimpered, tugging at Nightclaw’s cloak.

Nightclaw kicked at his hand, stomping it into the ground. Laith cried out, and Theo watched in horror as Nightclaw’s boot heel twisted into his hand.

Theo took a step back as Nightclaw stepped forward. He tripped on a pothole, falling backwards to the ground, and Nightclaw took a blade from his side.

Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew what to do, logically, but fear prevented him from reaching into his belt for a weapon.

Nightclaw made another step forward, raising his dagger.

Laith leapt up from the pavement, slamming into Nightclaw. He wrapped his arms around the supervillain’s neck, and they were swallowed up in shadow.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @ohwrite

[randomtable]

I've got a request for a random table - d20 fantasy body modifications (tattoos, piercings, etc.) for a character / NPC to have. I'm talking things like elf-ear piercings, horn caps, living tattoos... stuff like that!

1d20 Fantasy Body Modifications

“Fairy Ladder” Piercings - a set of three or more industrial piercings for Elves and other long-eared folks

Claw Enhancements - popular among folks without natural claws, and those who want to strengthen or emphasize their natural claws. Minor transmutations can be used to add claws, and to harden, sharpen, and even re-color or re-shape existing claws.

Tattoo Pets - living tattoos of animals that run and play around the bearer’s skin.

Tooth Alteration - folks with sharp teeth want blunt teeth, folks with blunt teeth want sharp teeth. The decision to have one’s teeth magically altered can be influenced by dietary choices, sexual preferences, medical needs, and aesthetics.

Horn Caps and Cuffs - made of precious metals, sometimes set with stones or connected by lengths of chain.

Portal Gauges - jewelry for stretched earlobe piercings which form a pair of teleportation portals. Passing tiny objects from one side of your head to the other is rarely more than a party trick, but is pretty cool.

Almanac Tattoos - calendars, moon phases, weather, etc, these magical tracking tattoos are popular among mages, farmers, and more.

Tail Tip Piercings, which are all the rage among folks with tails these days.

Horn/Tusk/Antler carvings - tattoo-like carvings on the horns, tusks, or antlers of those who have them. Patterns and images are usually carved in rings.

Gills of Amphibious Breathing - having a pair of gills on one’s neck is both visually striking and incredibly useful for long swims. The transmutation ritual for permanent gills is quite costly, so temporary gills are popular for beach days and pool parties.

Tattoo Gardens - the growth and blooming of these plant images can be attuned to anything from the bearer’s mood, to actual weather and natural surroundings.

Illuminated Hair - why stop at regular hair dye when you could have hair that literally glows in the dark? Illuminated hair potions are applied in a similar manner to regular hair dyes, with similar longevity and similar risks of staining the bathtub if you aren’t careful.

Mithril Earrings - Mithril jewelry doesn’t come cheap, but it is prized for its striking blue-silver appearance and for being lighter weight than most other metals but still extremely durable. It is especially popular for creating large dangly earrings that would otherwise be excessively heavy.

Warding Tattoos - protective sigils can be tattooed in magical inks to ward against just about anything, from general protection to shielding against highly specific curses. Their effectiveness depends both on the potency of the ink and the skill of the tattoo mage who applies them.

Tongue Ring of Tongues - a tongue piercing which grants the wearer the ability to speak any language.

Third Eye - generally cosmetic, although a cunning seer might be able to leverage their third eye for more credibility among less magically-inclined folks.

Warlock’s Brand - sometimes called a “mark of eternal servitude”, their appearance varies depending upon to whom the bearer has sold their soul. Anything goes, really, from always-smoldering singe marks to patches of skin replaced by iridescent crystal.

Hair Snakes - usually all of a person’s hair is polymorphed into snakes, though some might choose to keep most of their hair and only have one to three snakes.

Feather/Scale Patterning - a magical alternative to tattoos for birdfolk, half-dragons, and other feathered or scaled people. Each scale/feather in a chosen area is dyed to create an image or pattern.

Tattoos of Warning - any individual bearing one of these magical tattoos can send a signal to the others who bear an identical mark. The signal is typically a feeling such as warmth or tingling on the location of the tattoo. More complex versions are available that allow the bearers to establish multiple signals represented by different sensations.