#them and impish crow. god

[kaoharu]

HOUDN ROAR HOUND ROAR HOLY SHIT

[willowser]

oh, to be a little witch of the woods 🦋✨️ with a garden of nightshade and moonflower and henbane 🌿🌺 a cluttered hut with tomes and oddly-shapen vials of glittering potions and ghastly elixirs ⚗️🕯 nestled secretly in the midst of the forest, between an ancient god-tree and a snaking river 🌙🔮

until !! a little wild boy tries to steal from your fish trap !! and has the nerve to threaten you !!

"i'm not a boy!" he warbles, all impish and stubborn. in his hands is a cherry-stained bow, small and fit for him, carved with runes that read foreign. "i'm a dragon!"

"oh, yes, of course," you muse, suppressing a wicked grin at the untamed of sight of his blonde hair as he huffs it out of his baby-face. "how could i overlook your long and scaly tail or your forked tongue?" when you hiss, his nose scrunches up, surrendering a giggle. "tell me, little drake, what exactly are you going to be killing me for?"

the confidence in his big, brown eyes falters and they dart away, down to the overgrown herb garden near your feet. silence trickles by as his shoulders rise, shy suddenly.

"is this your home? or your fish?" you're answered by the drop of his hands, bowstring going lax as he frowns at the grass; a scolded little beast. "ah ha, i didn't think so." dirt clings to his round, pink cheeks, and you lean close enough to swipe it away, turning his chin up. "though it would seem i have no choice but to offer something else in exchange for the safety of my trout."

you're bestowed a toothy smile.

without fear, the little drake stomps into your home, beastly with his manners as he begins to peer into jars and poke at your literature. dust makes him sneeze when he wanders too close to your bookshelf, and he wipes his nose on the front of his tunic.

"come, come, hatchling," you wave a still-warm loaf of bread around like a jewel, beckoning him away from the prick of your thorned roses. "i hope you'll find sweet apple jam a suitable replacement."

his blonde eyebrows shoot up, sitting on his knees at your small round table. precariously, he leans over flickering candles and fares too close to a bubbling cauldron, attention stuck to the green jar you pull from the cupboard; a clumsy little boy, in all manner of the term.

near drooling as you slather down two thick slices of oat bread, digging into them without so much as a thanks as you give him — and his forthcoming mess — all the space he should need. out of reach, you make quick work of stowing away spells that eyes as young as his should never see.

"does your mother know where you are, little drake?"

he gives a small shrug and wipes the back of one hand across his messy face, jelly sticking between his little fingers. "she's gone."

your attention is his instantly, watching from across the hut as a chill runs down your spine; so nonchalant, for such a revelation. "and where has she gone?"

"i don't know," big brown eyes drift to the crows that chatter in your window, watching them as his grip tightens on his delight. "father says she and my sister were taken by bad men."

despite his initial approach, you realize then just how kind he looks: chubby cheeks and a round face, slow-blinking lids and a wild mess of silky, ashen hair. small, for how intelligent he seems, and too trusting.

this would not be the first time you've known such heart-wrenching news, but still — yours breaks for him.

the war still rages to the north, though it hasn't touched this realm in years; regardless, greed among men poisons all, an illness that festers and spreads as spores on a summer wind. there's a very good chance a boy as young as he never even knew his missing family, and, quietly, you thank your gods for such a mercy.

you clear your throat of its itch. "and where is your father, then?"

the little drake pauses, biting at his lip as he thinks — before taking another massive chomp. "at home."

one parent, at least, that hopefully has been strong enough for the both of them, though you doubt the little boy's presence in your home is doing well on a poor father's nerves. a treasure is what you've found in the heart of these woods, one you must return.

"come then," you sink a hand into his tousled hair, which earns you a frightful little glare. "you've been away long enough."

whatever directionless path brought him to your neck of the woods is as clear as day, little feet obvious in their trample of weeds and broken branches. the little drake leads, unafraid and talking loud of all the goblins he's killed in your forest, how good he is with his bow and the tiny knife he keeps strapped to his quiver.

you don't mention the barrier you've set up, to keep the evil in its place, and instead listen to the wild flames of his imagination. it's amusing, at least, and reveals him in slow, secret ways; it's clear the measure of strength he's set is in the shape of his father, and that he thinks being able to defend oneself is the highest skill one can have. they're important things, good things, and you tell him so — but you can smell the fear bleeding through.

it paints a small picture of the man rearing him, one that must be desperate not to lose what little he has left. you think of your own grief and your stomach churns, eager to return him to safety.

"shall we take a shortcut?" at the edge of the river, you pause, calling on thick roots to curl up from under their trees and span across the the rushing water. they creak as they grow, unending, bringing about new sprouts of life as they bend to your will.

"woah!" the wild boy shouts, jumping up and down in place before darting forward. you hardly catch him by the back of his tunic, holding him in place as the bridge evens out. "how did you do that?"

"should you live to see your sixteenth year, i will show you!" you snap, frowning down at his impatience. his cheeks pink, offering small apologies as he vows to stick by your side.

still leading, though he's true to his word and dares not to run ahead any further. the only time his impatience sparks anew is when a cottage breaks your line of sight, surrounded, too, by a swath of thick trees. glee marks his face and you return it in full force, allowing him to take you by the arm as he starts to shout out for his father.

—but at the feel of eyes on the back of your neck, you freeze, hands going up in surrender as a sharp tang of fear sours in your mouth; it's been a long time since anyone has gotten the jump on you. "daddy drake, i presume?"

"huh?" the little boy turns to make a silly face at you, mouth wide open like you've just spoken a foreign language — but the looming beast steals all his attention. something digs too deep into the skin of your neck, and the boy erupts. "father!" he cries, eyes going impossiblely wider. "stop!"

at your throat, the blade hesitates but never recedes. the low voice tickles the shell of your ear, and you repress a shiver. "you've got until he closes his eyes to get the fuck outta here, or i'll skin you myself."

you hum, hiding a burst of adrenaline at the threat, and it earns you a impatient tch. "well, that's not very kind, is it, for the woman that's found your hatchling?"

before you have a chance to even consider a countermeasure, you're shoved roughly against the base of a tree, a hand fisted in the front of your robes. the man before you is — big, and you have to look up to see the expanse of his furious, unshaven face. in him somewhere, you see his son; hair bleached and untamed, a shared sharp nose, even their brows turn down to the same degree.

it would make you laugh, if a singular red eye was not tearing through your very being. if you did not know at once who stands before you.

"dragon, indeed."

"i'll fucking kill—"

"father!" the boy tries again, hurrying to beat his little fists into his father's thigh. "stop! stop!"

it takes the man back a step, though he still keeps you in close range. with an all-encompassing hand, he grabs both of the boys' and tugs him until he's hidden behind the wall of his back.

"stop! she's my friend!"

"she's a witch, boy!" the beast snarls, temper flared like wings. "and you've brought her straight here!"

"she helped me!" he shouts, digging little heels into the ground to steady himself as he tries to yank free. "and fed me! and—"

"fed you?" all at once, his hand drops and in a single swift movement, he's on his knees in front of the boy, gripping his cheeks as if to stop him from swallowing something long gone. "what did she feed you? the hell did you take from her?"

you scoff, offended, though the father continues searching his son's throat. "i do not delight in poisoning children, your grace."

both of their eyes snap to you, wide and full, and the little one murmurs "father?" quietly as the man rises to his feet. when he tries again, he's silenced with a low, guttural grunt. the curved blade in his hand gleams crimson in the light of the setting evening, reflecting nearly the same shade as the thick, crude jewels in his earlobes and peeking out from the collar of his tunic. with nearly the same intensity as his eye.

rumors have taken flight, of an exiled king that lost a war his arrogance began: bonded dragon slain in battle, an eye taken, long braid cut. family torn. the scar eating up the right sight of his body and face speak to his loss; an unending reminder of what pride made of him.

"go inside, hasaru."

bakugou katsuki: fire housed in human form.

the little boy — bakugou hasaru — is quick to take advantage of his father's surprise, darting to stand in front of you, like a small, wooden shield. you can't help but to smile at his bravery, his flickering defiance. "only if you promise not to hurt her."

"boy—"

"no, promise!"

"little drake," you let out a chime of laughter and crouch to his height, cupping his cheeks when he turns to you. "all the valor you have shown today gives me great courage, and i think—" you glance up at his father, smiling wistfully at his flared nostrils. "—i might be able to handle myself. it's not my wish to trouble you any further." the little frown you receive has your own lips turning down, and you pinch at his chin once, serious. "but should you ever encounter danger in these woods, do not hesitate to find me, hasaru."

"enough." the once-king grits, lips pulling back over his teeth. "get. inside."

you watch the little boy scurry off, shoulders slumped as he eyes his father distrustfully. as he reaches the top step, he looks back once over his shoulder, cheeks round and full with the pout he wears, and fat tears well in his eyes as he waves a final goodbye.

as soon as the door closes, you're digging your nails into the tree bark, passing back and fully through it to avoid katsuki's deadly swing. it catches in the wood, but he makes no move to free it, stepping out so that his singular gaze can burn into your cheeks.

"if y'know what's good for you, you won't come back here."

"i only mean to warn you, daddy drake," you sing, far out of reach and smiling at how bright his glare becomes. "that the next person to find your hatchling in the woods might not be so kind."

his left hand raises and you feel the sorcery before you see it, though it airs differently; heavy and yet smooth, like the calm lap of waves against a shore. innate is his fire, not something he's had to study, like you.

embers pop at his fingertips, smoke swirling. "that a threat?"

"not at all," you try to mimic him, thinking hard on the handful of kinetic spells stored in the tome of your mind. "just—he's a chatty little thing, you know? might want to watch out for that."

"i don't need advice from you, witch," he spits, "now leave us."

your attempts at softening his steel are fruitless and so you drop the smile, stepping as close to him as he'll allow before rearing his defenses. "i should hope they never find you or your boy, your grace—"

"don't ever—

"—but if they do," you continue, "know that i am not far."

he weighs your words, their honesty, searching your face as he considers; whatever kindness he finds is deemed untrustworthy, though you can't say you blame him. "why the hell would i believe you? because you want to help?" he snorts, turning his face so that the scar of his pride is on full display. "i'd have burned these fucking woods to the ground, had i the chance."

"oh, i don't doubt that," you murmur, retreating a step when he huffs. "but i lost the ones i love, too, once, and i would have ripped the world to pieces just the same, if it meant they would be returned to me."

the steel warms, giving away the true shape of his grief for only a moment before hardening again; the once-king says nothing, only grunts before turning with his own retreat.

"not far," you repeat, light, when he pauses on the steps of his house. "over the river and near the god-tree. the little drake will know the way."

his arrogant eye meets you over his shoulder, now weary, clouded, and he nods. wordless is an understanding such as this.

as soon as he reaches for the door, it swings open and hasaru is sticking out his little head before his father can finish gritting out his name. a toothy smile reaches you, and then katsuki as he turns to him, relieved that you are not kindling for their hearth. at the sight, the once-king warms again, offering a small tug of his lips before pressing a firm hand on his son's head and steering him back inside.

katsuki looks out one last time, as you let the wind take the petals of you away.

generally i find it so difficult to imagine katsuki with a beard, but quirkred's art is just. woof.

[peterrparrkerr]

Food kink - read on ao3

*-*

Tony laughs when Peter stumbles into the bedroom, arms laden with items from their fridge.

"Whipped cream? Really Peter?" Tony chuckled, laying on his back with both hands behind his head.

"Hey, you said I could have fun!" Peter huffed, dropping the items onto the bed before scurrying up to kneel between Tony's legs -which he so graciously spread for Peter.

"I did," Tony smiled. "But when I said have fun, I thought you'd go for the toy box under the bed, not turn my dick into a banana sundae."

Peter snorts, grinning and grabbing the can of whipped cream.

"You can make a banana sundae too, if you want," Peter smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Its Tony's turn to snort, but he waves Peter on.

"You're cleaning up the mess," he hummed as Peter shook the can, then popped the top off.

Peter pauses to smirk devilishly at him. "Thats the plan, Mr. Stark."

Tony's dick twitches at the name, and Peter's smirk widens before he brings the nozzle down on Tony's cock.

The wet gurgle of whipped cream shooting from the can makes them both chuckle. Peter coats Tony's dick from tip to base, and even squirts some on Tony's ballsack just for laughs.

Tony lays still, smirking as he watches Peter. He's as excited as he would be making an actual banana ice cream sundae, hips shifting, shoulders bouncing in a happy dance as he grabs the chocolate sauce.

Sprinkles are next, and Peter giggles manically as he adds a cherry to the top, completing the monstrosity.

"Tada!" Peter crows, arms splayed wide, showing off his masterpiece.

Tony grins. "Might want to get to eatin' I think the ice cream is gonna melt soon."

Peter hums and leans forward, plucking the cherry off. "Maybe the ice cream should think dirty thoughts," Peter replies, licking up some of the whipped cream near the base of Tony's cock, smirking.

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken so long on the toppings," Tony grouses, though he moans at the end, which gets Peter laughing.

Tony hums as Peter laps at his balls, licking him clean. Tony watches as Peter moves up to mouth at the whipped cream slowly sliding down his cock, licking it up, drawing shivers and groans from Tony.

Peter cleans all but the top, ans he pulls back to give Tony another impish grin before diving down and wrapping his lips around Tony's cock.

He sucks the whipped cream and chocolate off and Tony's hips stutter, back arching and hands falling from behind his head to grip the sheets.

"Fuck, Peter!" He nearly wails. Peter pulls off, cheeks puffy with whipped cream, and smirks.

He swallows the whipped cream and licks his lips before crawling up Tony's body.

"Wanna taste?"

Tony surges up, gripping Peter by his jaw and kissing him hard, licking into his mouth and chasing the dessert from the younger's tongue.

Peter grinds down on Tony's groin as they share saliva.

"Its my turn," Tony growled against Peter's lips before flipping them so suddenly Peter yelps and then laughs, landing on his back with a huff.

Tony's quick to pepper kisses down Peter's chest, licking and nipping, working the younger into a pant.

"Tony," Peter whined, body wiggling under him, growing needy. "Tony, quit teasing me."

Tony smirks against the soft skin of Peter's belly, dragging his lips down to his belly button.

"Poor baby," Tony pouted, nipping at the soft skin of Peter's groin. Peter jolts, breath hitching.

"Tony!" He whines. "This's not fair."

Tony pulls back, smirking at Peter before reaching for the chocolate sauce.

He pops the lid open and Peter grins, shifting against the bed to get more comfortable.

Tony didn't think he'd enjoy licking chocolate off of Peter's cock -he likes the taste of Peter on his own- but the thick chocolate sauce on Tony's tongue as he sucks Peter down adds to everything.

Peter keens and whimpers as Tony licks the chocolate off his silky skin.

"Oh my God," Peter moans. "Tony, please."

Peter's hands curl around Tony's jaw and tugs. Tony pulls off and crawls over to him, allowing Peter to pull him down into a kiss.

Its desperate, all teeth and tongues, and Tony grabs both their cocks in hand, stroking them.

Peter whimpers into his mouth, rocking up into his hand and against his cock.

They both don't last long, cumming on Peter's stomach and adding further to the sticky mess.

"Fuck," Peter gasped, body shuddering. Tony hummed in agreement, gentling their kiss.

"We gotta do that again," Peter added once they've caught there breath. He shoots Tony a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

Tony huffs, rolling his eyes as he rolls to the side.

[yugen-works-118]

Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s a little bit late, but it’s too damn cold for Texas so here’s some fluff! :D

————————————————————

The air was cold. Too cold, Aki mused to herself. Wasn’t it supposed to start warming up by now? She exhaled from her mouth and watched the puff of air form a cloud for just a moment before vanishing. She hugged the bags of chocolates closer to her chest hoping to keep them from becoming too cold. Learning and getting the hang of how to make chocolates was a tedious process, thank god she decided to begin preparing them at the beginning of the week with how many failed attempts there were. She could feel her fingers beginning to go numb, she wished she had brought some gloves or something. She looked down at the bags of chocolates tucked into her arms. This would be the first Valentine’s Day she spent with people she actually cared about and loved, wouldn’t it? She smiled softly at the thought. She wasn’t sure what to expect of it, and she was a bit nervous, but knowing her friends; everything would go well.

“Aki-San!”

“Aki-nee-chan!” She stopped and turned around to see Rua and Ruka jogging towards her.

“Hello, Rua, Ruka,” she greeted. The twins were bundled up nice and warm with matching light blue and pale pink winter coats respectively along with boots, pants, and gloves. Rua wore a beanie which hid his ponytail while Ruka donned a pair of fluffy earmuffs.

“Are you going to Poppo Time too?” Rua bounced in place excitedly.

“Yes, I am.”

“Cool!” Aki realized, seeing as they were already here she might as well. She fished through the pile of bags clutched to her chest until she found Rua and Ruka’s bags of chocolate.

“Here,” she said. She handed the appropriately labeled bags to each twin. They both beamed at her and wrapped their arms around her sides as best as they could.

“Thank you,” they said simultaneously. Aki smiled and wrapped an arm around both of them as best as she could with the pile of bags in one hand.

“Of course.” The twins smiled up at her before presenting bags of their own to her. She smiled and thanked them in return. The rest of the walk to Poppo Time was filled with talk of how their days went, things they had planned for the weekend such as going out with Bob, Tenpei, and Patty, and other mundane things. Once they arrived at Poppo Time, Rua took a running start and practically slammed the doors open much to Ruka’s chagrin.

“Hey guys!”

“Yo! What’s up Rua?!” She heard Crow call back just as enthusiastically. Rua had already run down the ramp and was talking with Crow and Bruno in the garage when Aki and Ruka entered the door.

“Hi,” Ruka greeted as she walked down the ramp. Aki lingered for a moment to close the door.

“Hey, Ruka, Aki!” Crow greeted.

“Hi!” Bruno greeted from the entrance of the living room.

“Hello,” Aki responded. She walked down the stairs and joined the lot of people in the garage. Rua ran and peered around Yusei’s duel runner, looking disappointed at the absence of the mechanic.

“Huh? Where’s Yusei and Jack,” Rua asked. Meanwhile, Ruka was giving both her and her brother’s bags of chocolates to Crow and Bruno. Aki doing the same a moment later.

“Thanks you guys! Jack went to spend the day with Carly, so, who knows when he’ll come back,” Crow explained. “Hm, I’m not sure where Yusei went though. I just got back from making deliveries and he wasn’t here.”

“Yusei went to go pick up some parts for some of the computers he’s working on fixing.” Bruno clarified, then turned to Aki and Ruka. “Thank you,” he said as he accepted the bags of chocolate. Rua pouted and groaned.

“Aw!” Crow chuckled and rubbed Rua’s head.

“It’s all good though, they’ll probably be back soon. In the meanwhile, who wants some hot chocolate?! Because it’s damn cold outside!”

“Me!” The twins cried simultaneously while raising their hands excitedly. Aki chuckled at their antics.

“I’ll take some as well if you don’t mind. Thanks Crow.”

“Can I have some too?” Bruno asked sheepishly.

“Heck yeah you can! Go get some blankets and take off your coats!” Crow instructed.

“Yes sir!” Rua mock saluted with a grin on his face. Ruka smiled and chuckled at her brother’s actions. The four of them walked to the living area and shedded their heavy winter coats, gloves, and head accessories before plopping down on the couch, Rua comfortably nestling into Aki’s right side while Bruno took a seat to Aki’s left after he threw some blankets over them all. The room was filled with a blissfully comfortable silence save for Rua gently asking Ruka if she was warm enough or would want more of the blanket, only to be met with gentle assurances that she was fine. Aki hummed contently and snuggled further into the couch, closing her eyes. She heard the twins giggle softly and felt Rua bury himself into Aki’s side. Aki smiled gingerly and began stroking the boy’s hair gently. At some point Bruno began to talk about projects and the progress of their engine program that Yusei and him made, Aki hummed in acknowledgement at the appropriate times and praised their work when needed. Crow came back in the room carrying a tray with five steaming cups of hot chocolate resting atop it. Crow distributed the cups to each person before demanding Bruno to scooch over so he could sit too. Bruno tried his best to not disturb Aki and the twins with his awkward shuffling. At that point, Crow began talking about how his deliveries went, how some people were just plain rude assholes to him, and any other occurrences that happened while running his deliveries. Eventually he began asking the twins and Aki about how school was going for all of them. At some point, they all heard the garage door open and close quite loudly.

“Hi everyone! Huh? Where is everyone?” That was Carly’s voice. They also heard Jack harumph.

“Where the hell are you Crow?!”

“In the living room!” The orange headed man shouted back. It wasn’t long before Jack and Carly entered the living room.

“Hey Jack, where have you guys been all day? Hi Carly!” Jack hmphed and claimed it was none of Crow’s business.

“We went on a date at the pier!” Carly stated at the same time. Jack turned to look at Carly, his eyes squinting at her. A bead of sweat rolled down Carly’s face as she sheepishly turned to face her lover.

“Hehe, sorry,” she apologized meekly. Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The blonde then turned and caught sight of their guests.

“I’ll be right back, just a moment.” Jack stomped off, earning quizzical glances from Crow and Carly. The reporter sheepishly turned to face the lot on the couch.

“So, uh,” she chuckled awkwardly. “How’s life?” They all stared at her blankly and shrugged. Jack entered back in the room with a plastic bag.

“Here,” he huffed, shoving a chocolate bar in Aki’s hands. “You should be grateful that I of all people got you lot anything.” He shoved two more chocolate bars into each of the twins’s hands. They all chuckled and smiled at the blonde.

“Thanks Jack!” Rua smiled at him. Ruka thanked Jack as well.

“Thank you,” Aki said. Oddly enough, the man seemed a tad surprised but huffed.

“You should be grateful.” Aki softly asked Ruka to reach for the pile of bags on the small table behind her. Rua reached forward to the coffee table and retrieved Jack’s bags of chocolates while Aki did the same. Three bags of chocolates were presented to Jack.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Aki smiled. Jack hmphed and smiled, taking the three bags.

“Offerings worthy of a king, I shall enjoy these.” The three chuckled at their older friend. Crow paused for a moment, and then his eyes widened.

“Oh crap, that’s right!” Crow pressed his hand against Bruno’s face to brace himself as he stood and ran to the kitchen, calling out an apology to the now disheveled Bruno. Jack puffed air through his nose and went to get a blanket for him and Carly to share from his room. Crow came back in the room with three goodie bags and gave one to Rua, Ruka, and Aki. “Sorry, I completely forgot about them,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. They waved off the apology and said it was fine.

“Wait, aren’t you usually supposed to wait until White Day to give gifts back?” Ruka asked. Jack and Crow both looked at each other and then at Ruka, shrugging.

“We know about White Day, but that wasn’t a holiday Martha celebrated all that often,” Crow explained. “So, we never had much of a reason to follow that tradition.”

“Oh,” was Ruka’s simple reply. She then shrugged. After a moment of comfortable silence Bruno stood and excused himself to the bathroom. Then, not too long after Bruno left, the door opened but closed much harder than when Jack and Carly arrived, as if the door was kicked closed.

“Yusei! We’re in the living room!” Crow shouted.

“Okay,” Yusei replied, then grunted with an accompanying sound of metal clinking together. Soon enough, the leader of the Signers entered the living room and blinked at the sight of everyone gathered on the couches.

“Hiya,” Carly greeted with a wave. Yusei waved back and greeted his friends.

“Your chocolates are right there,” Ruka explained as she grabbed Aki’s remaining chocolate bag to Yusei and placed it next to their’s. Yusei froze and stared at the chocolates, and then smacked his palm over his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, I entirely forgot today was Valentine’s Day,” he explained.

“What?!” Crow exclaimed. “But I reminded you at the beginning of this week!” Yusei sighed.

“You did, but I got so swept up in my side projects that I forgot about it.”

“It’s fine,” Aki assured. “Don’t beat youself up over it.” The twins nodded in agreement with her. Yusei sighed and nodded in thanks, awkwardly looking around for where to sit. Crow pat the spot where Bruno had been sitting, barely suppressing an impish grin behind a pleasant smile. Yusei silently took the offer. Aki picked up the blanket, allowing him to sit before placing the blanket gingerly over him.

“Thanks,” Yusei said as he tucked himself further into the blanket. After Yusei settled in and got comfortable, Bruno came back in the room.

“Aw,” the man deflated. “My spot.”

“I can get up and-“

“No,” Bruno shook his head ‘no.’ “It’s fine.” He grabbed a pillow and sat on the remaining one person sofa in the room.

“So,” Crow piped up after a minute. “Do you guys want to watch a movie or something?”

“Your obsession with watching movies is atrocious,” Jack scoffed.

“Aw,” Cary whined. “I was kind of wanting to watch one.” Jack paused and... sheepishly turned away from his friends, the shell of his ear tinged a dark red. Crow snickered and started laughing.

“I’m taking that as a yes!”

——————

Were these the kinds of moments she had been missing out on? She couldn’t remember ever feeling this warm and fuzzy. Buried under blankets, being surrounded by her new family, and enjoying such mundane activities. She glanced over at the loveseat where Carly had dozed off and cuddled into Jack’s chest who had his arm wrapped around her. Then to Bruno who was still watching the boring romance movie, that she couldn’t remember the name of, along with Crow, both looking like they were about to fall asleep. Then to Rua, who was still buried into Aki’s side, but cuddling Ruka, both of them had fallen asleep sometime ago themselves. She sighed contently and stroked Rua’s hair once, a smile gracing her lips.

“Are you still awake,” came the soft whisper from her left. She looked over to Yusei and nodded silently. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were or not. Is something on your mind?” She smiled again.

“Nothing bad, I suppose I’m just enjoying how nice this is.” Yusei waited until she continued. “It’s just, I haven’t experienced this before. My parents were never particularly the kind to spend family time together and neither was anyone at the Arcadia Movement. So, this is new to me,” she explained. Yusei smiled at her.

“I’m glad,” he responded softly. The two fell back into a comfortable silence, nothing else needing to be said. Aki eventually dozed off herself after failing to pay attention to the movie.

————————

“Well! It’s going to be dark soon, and we don’t want to be out after dark, so, we’ll see you guys later,” Rua explained, Ruka nodding in agreement. The twins had already begun pulling on their coats and accessories.

“Okay, well, be safe on the way home you two! And stay warm!” Crow called after them as they walked away from Poppo Time. Crow shivered and closed the door. Jack had already gotten up and left to go take Carly back to her apartment. Bruno had already retired to the sofa down in the garage for now. Crow walked back up to the living room and snickered. Yup, the remaining two were still cuddled up like lovebirds, he thought to himself as the view of a sleeping Yusei now leaning his back on the arm of the sofa with a pillow underneath him and an arm wrapped around Aki’s shoulders. The psychic herself was sound asleep on top of him. The two being covered by at least three blankets. Oh well, not his business.

“Unbelievable,” Jack scoffed softly from behind him. Crow nearly jumped out of his skin and barely restrained himself from smacking his older brother upside the head. “This is some of the sappiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“You already know Martha would’ve been taking pictures already,” Crow mused. Jack nodded in agreement and the two walked away.

——————

Aki opened the door to Poppo Time, shivered, and nearly slammed it back shut. It got so much colder! Of course it would get even colder after the sun went down, she reasoned. She then cursed herself for not bringing a heavier winter coat. She sighed and prepared herself to brave the cold until she felt a hand land gently on her shoulder. She turned around and found Yusei behind her with a thick and fluffy brown bommer jacket.

“Here,” he held the jacket up to her. “The weather channel had said that it would be in the thirties around nine.”

“Are you sure?” She hesitantly held a hand out. He gently pushed the jacket into her hands.

“Yeah, and since it’s already dark out I’ll go ahead and walk you to the train station.” She accepted the jacket gratefully and pulled it on before zipping it up. She silently noted about how it actually kind of fit her.

“Wait, walk?” She questioned. He nodded.

“The roads are closed because it’s too icy to drive right now.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t need to, I’ll be fine. It’s too cold and I don’t want you to get sick,” she explained as he pulled a large navy colored winter coat on anyway.

“And I don’t want you to be out there by yourself,” he countered. She looked in his eyes and sighed. She recognized that look. She knew he was going to accompany her no matter how much she protested.

“Okay,” she relented. Yusei finished zipping his coat closed before opening the door and holding it open for her.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to walk Aki to the train station!” He called out as an afterthought before closing the door. Crow and Jack peaked their heads out from around the corner of the kitchen, and then looked at each other incredulously.

“Wasn’t that his old favorite jacket?” Jack nodded at the younger man.

“It is,” the blonde confirmed.

————————

“So, where are your parents?” Aki hummed and glanced away.

“They’re out of the country. Dad had some kind of political event to go to in the United States, and mom went with him. Last I heard from them earlier today they were in Texas at some kind of river walk. They were celebrating their wedding anniversary there.” Yusei sighed. He would never fail to be miffed about how her own parents could just leave her alone like this even after what they went through trying to get her back, same with Rua and Ruka’s parents. Aki shrugged. “It’s not a big deal though, I mean, it’s not like I’m not used to it.” He winced.

“That doesn’t mean you should have to be used to it,” he stated bluntly. Any argument she was going to come say after wilted away with a sigh.

“Well, at least they’re trying more than they used to,” she supplied. “Mom wants me to go with her to Germany to meet some of her family during the summer of next year. She extended the invitation to you guys as well if you want to come.” Yusei hummed in consideration. He’d never been outside of Neo Domino or Satellite before. It sounds like it would be an interesting experience. Perhaps some issues concerning a language barrier, but, he’s sure that maybe that could be worked out somehow. The trip would also take place after the WRGP as well, so, it wasn’t as though he had any major plans in the foreseeable future after that.

“I’ll think about it, but I’ll go ahead and tell Jack and Crow about it and see what they think.” She hummed in acknowledgement. Eventually, the lights surrounding the train station came into view, and the two walked steadily towards it.

—————————

Yusei leaned his head against the cement pillar while Aki requested and paid for her ticket. He briefly turned and glanced at the girl, and he couldn’t help but remember waking up after the movie. After the initial panic of, “When did we even fall asleep,” and, “Holy crap Aki was sleeping on top of him,” faded, he found himself admiring how content and peaceful she looked. It was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, he thinks. And he couldn’t stop thinking about that smile on her face from before she fell asleep. She looked so happy and wistful, like a fairy, he thought. Of course, a small part of his part broke when she explained that she had never experienced that simple joy of being around people who genuinely cared about him. He knows that if he had never been able to experience those moments with Jack, Crow, and all of his other friends, he would not have been able to stay completely sane. Which is why he admires her strength. Sure, she was definitely affected by Divine and the way he manipulated her and hurt her, but, she had the mental fortitude to be able to pull herself back up onto her own two feet and evaluate herself. She was still in the process of doing that even now, but she was much better off than in the beginning. Back when Yusei had known that she couldn’t stand up by herself without any support, so he had allowed himself to be her crutch for a time. It took a long time, unlearning any old habits instilled into her, and breaking out of the mental cycle that had let her fall so low, but with each day that passed, he was able to see her begin to lean on him less and less, which made him glad that she was growing by herself. To see that smile, to see the fruits of her own hard work, it filled him with hope for some reason. It was beautiful, and awe inspiring. To see who she was blooming into, a blend of her experiences and who she used to be, it was beautiful. He can’t put it into words how and what she makes him truly feel, but, he knows that the answer isn’t anything bad, and it isn’t an answer he’s scared of finding out.

“Yusei?” He jumped as he heard her from right beside him. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed her return. “Are you feeling alright? Your face is all red.” Without hesitation, she removed her hands from the pockets of his jacket and gingerly placed them on his face and forehead. He froze in shock. “You’re not getting sick are you? Your face is red and you’re feeling warm,” she explained her concerns. She removed the hand on his forehead and placed it on his other cheek, rubbing just underneath his eye where his criminal marker was soothingly. When was the last time someone touched him so tenderly? Those kind of touches were usually associated sensations to Martha and another set of familiar yet unfamiliar hands that he vaguely remembered; his birth mother’s hands probably, he would realize later.

“I-I’m fine,” he quickly got out after forcing himself to not get lost in his thoughts again. Since when did he stutter? He reached up and held her wrists delicately, debating with himself about whether or not to pry her hands off. Aki’s hands were warm, but the slight chill of having them out in the open air briefly still lingered.

“Are you sure?” He nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. She gently pried her hands from his grasp, but instead of dropping them back down to her sides right away, she held his hands and squeezed them briefly before doing so. He found himself yearning for the warmth of her hands almost as soon as she let go, but didn’t show it. He dropped his hands back to his sides as well. After a lingering awkward silence, Aki gently fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

“Um, do you want this back later or now?” He blinked at her and paused, considering his answer.

“You can keep it,” he said instead. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Huh?”

“You can keep it,” he reiterated. “It’s a jacket that I don’t really use anymore,” he lied. Well, it was technically a half lie. It was one of his favorite jackets actually, but, it was true that he tended to favorite his blue jacket nowadays than any other jacket he had. Besides, he was by now starting to grow out of it, he noted as he realized just how well the jacket suited her.

“Are- Are you sure?” He nodded silently. At that moment, the two turned their heads and stared at the train as it pulled into the station. “Ah,” she said somewhat disappointedly.

“That’s your train, right?” She nodded. He stood from his placement against the pillar. “Well,” he sighed disappointedly. “You should probably go ahead and go, you wouldn’t want to miss it.” She sighed and began her treck to the train’s entrance before she paused about half way. He stared at her, wondering if she had forgotten something, but was taken by surprise when she turned around and ran at him. She jumped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He found himself frozen in stupor once more.

“Thanks, for everything,” she said. “Be careful on your way home okay?” After getting over his shock, he found himself wrapping his arms around her as well.

“Yeah, I will. Be sure to let me know when you make it home safely.” She nodded into his shoulder.

“I will, same goes to you too though.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her once more before they detached from each other. When her face was in his vision, he felt like he was blown away when he realized she was smiling at him. Not at something else, not at anyone else, just him. That precious smile was just for him this time. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath until the train’s doors closed. He lowered his hand after the two had stopped waving at each other and the train had slithered out of view into the tunnel. He almost didn’t realize that he had already begun walking home until the only lights that remained were the street lamps above him. A bit numbly, he reached into his pocket and felt the plastic of the bag of chocolates that Aki made for him. He pulled the string tying the bag closed until it unraveled. Then, he popped one of the small chocolates into his mouth, and smiled as the warm caramel coated his tongue. Well, he now had an inkling of what he was feeling. But, still, it was a tango he’d rather not pursue until the WRGP and Illiaster were no longer a threat, he noted with a sigh. So, he’d wait, but that didn’t mean he’d be yearning for the day he didn’t have to wait anymore.

————————

BONUS:

Rua grinned impishly as he stared at the picture. He clicked the ‘send’ button on the messaging app. Ruka sighed from beside him on the couch.

“You know Yusei-san and Aki-san will be livid if they find out about this right?” Rua resisted cackling, and shrugged.

“Oh well,” he said as he deleted the picture from his phone. Rua’s phone chimed with a message. The boy opened the app and looked at Jack and Crow’s responses.

“Rua, you’re a genius,” was Crow’s response.

“If we die by Yusei’s hands for this Carly knows it’s your fault.” Jack typed a few seconds later. Rua scrolled back up to the picture he sent just a few moments ago of a selfie Rua took with half of his face in the corner grinning mischeviously with the rest of the picture centering on a sleeping Yusei with his arm wrapped around a sleeping Aki who’s face was not visible, but half buried in his shoulder.

[almost-jack]

It’s official. I’m a filthy, Jack-simping fuck monster. Chapter 15 is out and it is a smut bucket.

I just posted the smuttiest chapter that I’ve ever written for public consumption. It doesn’t even really require context (other than basic Borderlands 2 knowledge) to read because it is pure FILTH. I’m pretty proud.

Please enjoy and either leave me a comment here or on AO3 (guest comments and kudos welcome) or wash your eyeballs, depending on how you feel about it.

This chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921886/chapters/69799560

Or read below:

Chapter 15 : More Than He Bargained For          

Summary: Axton willingly puts himself in Jack’s way and gets fucked. Hard. Oof.

Notes:

Forgive me lord, for I have sinned, but so help me god, I'll fucking do it again. And again. And again...

Thinkin' about changing the fic's title to "The Lion's Den". What do you guys think?

*Warning: Uhhhh....Axton might take a bit of a beating with some mild non-con mixed in there. He likes some it, though. *shrug*

The tower was just a short walk from the bar and the pair was entering the massive living room of the VIP suite within minutes. Rei retrieved a bottle of Jack’s fancy champagne and poured three glasses, setting one down on an end table to wait for Jack, then she sat down on an ornate couch with gold upholstery and patted the seat next to her. Axton joined her, staring around at the lavish, ostentatious suite.

“Wow, this place is uh…”

“Excessive? Yeah, I know. Jack’s aesthetic is something along the lines of, “You can’t afford this,” and, “Is there enough black leather in here?”” she said, laughing.

“Well, you can never have enough black leather, darlin’,” said Axton, reaching out and stroking her cheek.

He leaned in and caught her lips with his own, kissing her firmly, yet gently. Without breaking the kiss, he threw a knee up onto the couch and began crawling forward, crowding her back against the armrest until he was straddling her. Rei ran her hands up his chest, feeling something cold and metallic hanging from his neck. She pulled away to look at the rectangular tags in her hand. Dog tags, and for some reason, a wedding ring. Rei knew better than to ask why.

“A soldier, eh? Your battalion isn’t going to be happy about you fraternizing with Handsome Jack and friends, you know.”

“Don’t have a battalion anymore, I was discharged a while back. I’m a mercenary now, honey. A vault hunter, in fact.”

“You’re a…what?” she said, taken aback.

“He’s a vault hunter. Well, he was a vault hunter. For me,” growled a voice from across the room.

Jack was leaning in the doorway of the suite, arms crossed, brows furrowed in a thunderous scowl. He strode over behind the couch, gripping the edge of the headrest with white knuckles, looming over the pair. Then he sighed, screwing his eyes shut and rubbing his temple.

“Kitten…why? Why do you do this shit to me? It’s like you’re trying to get us both killed.”

“Jack…I don’t understand…”

“I hired this joker as a vault hunter and then tried to kill him. Did you forget that part, Axie? The part where I wanted you dead?”

“Nope, I remember. Crazy bus explosion. Lotta fun,” said Axton, sitting up. Rei slid out from under him and began backing away from the couch, feeling the weight of the grave error she had made.

“So why the hell are you here? Do you need to get fucked by Handsome Jack so badly that you’re willing to risk your life for it? I can’t blame you, but…pretty stupid move, kiddo,” snarled Jack.

“What if that’s exactly why I’m here? Is that so hard to believe?” asked Axton, pouting up at him playfully.

Jack grabbed the burly man by the hair and bent his head back at a painful angle. Axton grimaced but remained still. Jack leaned down so his face was mere inches away, staring at the man in his grasp with fire in his eyes. Rei had seen that expression before, and, although she knew this was about to take an unfortunate turn for Axton, she couldn’t help but feel excited for what was to come. When Jack was at his worst, he always fucked her the best.

Rei sauntered over to the armrest next to Jack and sat, looking quizzically down at Axton.

“I don’t think we believe him, do we, J?” she drawled lazily.

“No, I don’t believe we do. So why don’t you tell us why you’re really here, cupcake?” hissed Jack through clenched teeth.

“Fine, fine, I might have been paid to keep an eye on you two. Uh, do you mind?” he grunted, trying to jerk his head out of Jack’s grip. Jack released him, drawing his pistol and pointing it at Axton’s head instead.

“Well that’s not much better…” mumbled the soldier.

“Who are you working for? I want answers, now,” snarled Jack.

“No can do, big guy. I gave you as much of an answer as you’re gonna get. The rest is classified.”

“Maybe you should fuck it out of him, J.” said Rei, examining her shimmery, black nails disinterestedly.

“Kitten, you always have the best ideas!” crowed Jack, his scowl morphing into a wolfish grin. He tossed her his gun. “Watch him for a minute.” He turned and left the room.

“That was pretty dirty trick, soldier boy,” she said in a low, ominous voice, cocking the gun and aiming between Axton’s eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to trick anyone, just saw an opportunity for some fun on the job and I took it,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch.

“Jack is almost certainly going to kill you once he’s done. Why would you risk that?”

“Ah, darlin’, you underestimate me. I wasn’t a commando for all those years because I’m bad surviving dangerous situations. Jack doesn’t scare me. Also… I wanted to spend a little time with Jack’s girl. See what makes you tick. See if you’re a threat. See…what you have on under that dress,” he said with an impish grin, eyes twinkling up at her.

“Well, you might just get some of what you wanted…and a whole lot you didn’t,” she said, smiling sweetly back.

“Ok kiddos, time for some fun!” announced Jack gleefully, returning to the couch and slipping his gun back into its holster. He held a jumble of straps and chains. Jack separated the tangled items in his hands and flipped a black leather gag over to Rei. “You get his mouth, I’ll get his wrists,” he said, giving Axton a hard shove to the back, forcing him face down on the couch.

Jack yanked Axton’s arms behind him, clinking a pair of thick metal handcuffs around his wrists so quickly that the soldier barely had time to react. Rei snickered at them as she undid the buckle on the gag.

“Yeah, I don’t know about the gag, darli-nghhh!” protested Axton as she stuffed the leather strap in his mouth and fastened it around his head.

“You wanted to see what I have on under my dress, right? Be a good boy and I’ll show you.”

“Oh he said that, did he? Cheeky little bastard,” chuckled Jack, unbuckling his belt. “Kitten, why don’t you come over here and get this party started, hmm? You’re in for a real treat, Axie. Getting to watch my kitten blow me is a real privilege.”

Jack pulled Axton upright by the back of his shirt and plopped down next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. He hooked a finger under the chain of the soldier’s dog tags and toyed with it gently, giving him a devilish grin. Rei knelt between Jack’s legs a shoved his pants down, mouthing at the exposed skin of his upper thighs.

“Hmm, I think I have another good idea,” she said softly, pulling a small baggie of purple powder out of her bra.

“Oh you just keep that Eridium concentrate stashed on you at all times, eh, kitten?”

“This stuff is close to my heart. Literally,” she giggled.

She poured a trail of powder down Jack’s thigh and snorted it in one fluid motion. She then tapped a line onto the back of her hand, holding it out to Jack, who sniffed it up appreciatively. He threw back his head and sighed happily, then turned to Axton, positively beaming, and clapped him on the back.

“Holy hell, kiddo. Looks like I’m gonna be fucking you all night long,” he purred in Axton’s ear, pulling himself out of his pants and giving his near instant erection a few assisting strokes.

Rei licked the tip of his cock and Jack’s hand dropped to his side, letting her take over. She sank down on his member, almost to the hilt, making him groan loudly at the hot silkiness of her mouth and her tongue ring gliding over his shaft. She lazily dragged her tongue back up to his cockhead and sucked gently, stroking his slit with the tip of her tongue. Then she picked up her pace and began bobbing her head while pumping his length with a firm grip, getting faster and sloppier with every passing minute. Jack let out another low moan and dug his fingers into Axton’s shoulder with the hand that was still dangling carelessly over it.

“Oh, fuck, kitten. Take it easy, our friend is still waiting for a turn on my dick.”

“I think it’s only fair that I get first dibs, I found him after all. And since I won, shouldn’t I be calling the shots?” she said, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth.

Jack raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah, doll? Hey, if that’s what you want…” He shrugged. “That ok with you, buddy?” he said, hooking his arm around Axton’s neck and pulling his head into his chest.

“Mmmph,” came his unintelligible reply. The look on his face was something akin to curiosity with a hint of apprehension, probably at the prospect of being subjected to whatever insane things these two cartoonish villains could think up.

Jack laughed derisively. “Like it even matters what you want at this point, kiddo.”

“Bedroom. Let’s go,” said Rei, snapping her fingers at the two of them.

“You heard that hot little piece of ass, up you get,” said Jack, dragging Axton to his feet and pushing him down the hall.

They followed Rei into the bedroom, Jack hauling Axton onto the bed with him while she waited at the foot, arms crossed. Jack threw an arm over Axton’s shoulders once again, watching her intently. Once she had their full attention, Rei slowly, almost teasingly, unzipped her dress. She let it slide off her body and pool at her feet, revealing black, lacey lingerie with yellow stitching. She bent to remove her silver pumps, but Jack cleared his throat insistently. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, cocking them to one side.

“What?” she said sharply.

“Do me a favor kitten…uhh, boss-kitten…. Leave ‘em on? Please? For daddy?” he pleaded, sticking out his lower lip.

Rei rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a crooked smile. “Fine,” she said climbing up onto the bed and crawling towards them, catlike. She knelt between Axton’s legs and reached behind his head to unfasten the gag.

“The hell are you doing that for? I don’t wanna hear this guy complain all night,” whined Jack.

“He’ll be too busy putting that mouth to work to complain, don’t you worry. Isn’t that right, soldier boy?” she purred, grabbing Axton’s chin and stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“Mmhmm, whatever you want, darlin’, as long as I get to touch you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her body hungrily.

Rei smacked his cheek lightly, but firmly. “You don’t get to make demands. The cuffs stay on. Trade places with me.”

Axton awkwardly shifted onto his knees and shuffled out of Rei’s way as she took his spot next to Jack.

“Sit right there, lover boy,” she snapped her fingers at him and pointed between her legs.

He quickly obeyed, keeping his head low to avoid letting the pair see his pleased grin. Rei hooked a leg over his shoulder, pressing into his back with the sharp stiletto of her shoe.

“Down.”

He bent slowly and began kissing a trail up her thigh, nipping at her thong when he reached her pubic bone. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. She gave him a nod and he pulled the garment down with his teeth, tenuously inching it down her legs.

“Lemme help you with that, kiddo,” said Jack lazily, shrugging out of his jacket. He fished around in his pants pocket and produced a switchblade, flipped it open, and hooked it under the waistband of Rei’s panties. Before she could protest, Jack had severed both sides with a flick of his wrist.

“Jack! I liked those!” she hissed in irritation.

“So I’ll buy you another pair,” he murmured, pocketing the knife and kissing his way up her neck before enveloping her mouth. Their lips moved against each other languidly, tongues intertwining, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Suddenly Rei broke away, moaning wantonly with her eyes screwed shut as she felt Axton’s mouth descend upon the heat between her legs. He lapped at her folds eagerly, dragging his tongue up to swirl around her clit, then back down to dip into her now dripping entrance, kissing and sucking every part of her along the way. After short while, Rei felt the weight of the bed abruptly shift, then heard the creak of a drawer opening. The weight shifted back and Axton cried out, jerking his head up. Rei whined at the loss of contact and sat up on her elbows to see what was the matter.

“Hey, man, are you serious?! You can’t put that on me!” complained Axton, trying to shake off Jack’s grip around his neck.

In the hand that wasn’t clenched around the back of Axton’s neck, Jack held a black leather collar (a plainer version of the one he had given Rei) connected to a chain-link leash. Rei laughed. Jack definitely had an aesthetic, and that was black leather absolutely everywhere. She sat up and folded her legs under her, reaching down to grab Axton’s face and still him.

“Cooperate, or the gag goes back on,” said Rei silkily.

She clenched his jaw in her palm while simultaneously stroking his cheek with her thumb, as though making both a threat and a titillating promise. He huffed in annoyance but slumped down, dropping his head into her lap and allowing Jack to collar him.

“Good boy,” she praised, stroking his hair.

“Thanks, kitten. So can I have a go at him now, or what? Don’t leave me hanging, here,” said Jack impatiently, gesturing towards his ever present, Eridium enhanced erection, still bobbing out of his open fly.

“Aww, you feeling neglected, J? Sure, have at him,” she cooed, crawling over to where Jack knelt behind Axton and sitting up on her knees to nuzzle and nip at his neck.

Jack wound the leash around his hand, curling it into a fist, and when it was short enough, gave it an experimental yank. Axton jerked backward and sputtered, almost losing his balance and toppling back into Jack’s lap. Jack smirked maliciously, the fire still glinting in his eyes.

“Ok, pumpkin. Let’s see what you’re made of,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“I, uh… I mean, it’s not my first time at the rodeo, but uh... Don’t go too hard on me, ok?” said Axton, nervously eyeing Jack’s impressively sized cock.

“We’ll see.”

“That means there’s no fuckin’ chance” Rei whispered in Axton’s ear, undoing his belt and pulling down his fly.

She giggled and smacked his ass, urging him up onto his knees while she pulled his pants and boxer briefs down, before unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down to his elbows. Jack was busily pulling off Axton’s shoes and kicking off his own, then yanking off his vest and shirt without undoing all the buttons. He reached over to the already open drawer beside the bed and pulled out a bottle of lube, slicking up his throbbing erection, and hungrily descending on Axton, forcing his chest down into the bed with a thud. He pressed a hand to his back and held him there while he adjusted Axton’s hips and slid his pants the rest of the way off. Jack began to teasingly press his achingly hard cock between Axton’s cheeks.

“Aw, hey, come on Jack, at least give him a few fingers first,” said Rei sympathetically, although a wicked grin remained fixed across her face.

“Kitten, I don’t think I can wait much longer. I can’t tell if I want to kill something or fuck something, but if one of those two things doesn’t happen soon, I’m definitely going with kill,” Jack said in a strained tone.

“Oh, fuck, come on man…” mumbled Axton into the sheets. He raised his head to glance over his shoulder at Jack, a pleading look in his eyes. “If I survive this night, don’t you want me to at least tell people you’re a good lay? You know they’re gonna ask what Handsome Jack is like in bed …”

Jack shot him one of his signature “if looks could kill” faces and made an exasperated growl deep in his throat in response.

It was clearly taking every ounce of willpower he had to restrain himself from plunging balls deep into the command splayed out before him, but he begrudgingly lubed up a few fingers and got to work. Axton groaned as Jack pumped one large finger into his tight hole, and after a few pumps, another, far too soon for comfort. Jack worked him open quickly, drawing mostly grunts of pain from Axton as he carelessly fucked his fingers into the cuffed man.

“Think you can fucking take me now, cupcake? Or am I still too big for you?” hissed Jack, still pumping his fingers in and out.

“Shut up and do it already, douchebag,” retorted Axton. Jack abruptly yanked his fingers out, making him shudder in pain.

“You reaaally need to remember your manners, or I’m not going to be able to help you, Ax,” Rei said, her voice soft and sickly sweet. She was hovering next to Jack, her arm draped over one of his broad shoulders, her head resting on top of it.

“Oh, sweetheart, nothing can help him now,” growled Jack, lining his cock up with Axton’s quivering hole.

“Maybe he just needs a good dicking. Go on, J, fuck the shit out of him,” urged Rei, her tone absolutely poisonous.

Jack sank into Axton far too quickly, making the commando yelp and writhe underneath him as Jack pressed the weight of his powerful chest into his back. He fell still as Jack gave him a moment to adjust, his breath coming in heavy pants.

“Thaaaaat’s it, deep breaths. Relax, pumpkin, this is nothing. Things haven’t even begun to get bad for you, yet,” crooned Jack as he started to move his hips.

Jack groaned in relief as he slowly thrust his throbbing cock into Axton, the friction easing his frustration. Axton, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper as the older man began pounding into him, his rhythm going from gentle and controlled to full on jack-hammering in less than a minute.

“So tell me, Axie, did you really think I’d fuck you nicely? That I’d suddenly change my mind about wanting most of you annoying fuckin’ vault hunters dead? You willingly entered the lions’ den, expecting not to get torn to pieces. What the fuck is wrong with you, kiddo?” Jack laughed and punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard thrust, eliciting a satisfying yelp from the man beneath him.

“Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment,” grunted Axton, a hint of amusement in his voice. It seemed as though he was beginning to enjoy himself, and Jack, while pleased that the commando was getting off on being manhandled and tormented by him, wasn’t about to let him enjoy it without consequence.

“Hey, kitten, why don’t you show our friend that little stunt you pulled on Pandora? The one that nearly broke my face?” said Jack, roughly yanking the leash towards himself, forcing Axton to sit up and lean back into his chest. Jack hooked a few fingers under the collar and slowed his thrusts to keep him anchored in place.

Rei, who had been running her nails down Jack’s back and murmuring words of encouragement in his ear, giggled. She reached into Jack’s thigh holster, still bunched around his thighs with his pants, slid out his gun, and turned it on Axton.

“Woah, woah, hold up, at least make it a fair fight if you’re going to try and kill me,” he rasped against the pressure of Jack’s pull on the collar.

“Don’t worry, hun, safety’s on. Doesn’t make it much safer for you, though,” she said with an amused grin, drawing back her arm. She swung the gun down on him, even harder than she had on Jack, decking him across the face, and causing the commando to cry out in pain and surprise. Both Rei and Jack cackled as Axton spat blood onto the bed.

“That all you got, babe?” he said dazedly, giving her a bloodstained grin.

Jack gave the collar a sharp tug.

“We can go harder if you want, kiddo. Just keep running that mouth of yours, see what happens,” he growled. He shoved Axton back down on the mattress and returned to his punishing pace, pumping in and out of him. Axton let out a low moan, his cuffed hands balling into fists behind his back.

Rei watched Jack begin to pant, the muscles in his back tensing. She moved to his side and leaned over Axton to pull Jack into a heated kiss, burying her hands in his hair and digging her nails roughly into his scalp, drawing a soft moan out of the man. All he needed was a little more pain to push him over the edge. She let her lips glide from his mouth, to his jaw, and then down his chest. Rei dragged her tongue over the firm muscles, stopping to lave over his nipple. Suddenly she bit down hard on the tender bud, sending shudders through his body.

“Ah, fuck, kitten, you’re gonna make me cum…” he groaned desperately. “You hear that, Axie? I’m gonna fill your tight little hole and make a huge mess for ya. Let’s see how well you march after being fucked senseless and filled with cum, soldier boy,” he hissed in Axton’s ear.

“Hey, hey, not in-“

Axton tried to protest, but it was too late. Jack was already hunched over his back, one hand buried in Rei’s hair as she continued sinking her teeth into his pectoral, the other between Axton’s shoulders, crushing him into the mattress with all his weight. Jack threw back his head, eyes screwed shut, and gave a final, brutal thrust, sinking his cock all the way to the hilt and letting go. He groaned loudly as he spilled into the man beneath him, his cock twitching and spurting for what felt like ages, pain and pleasure rippling through his body. Finally, he sank forward to lean on his hands, torso still hunched over Axton’s back, head hung low in exhaustion.

“God…damn…that was good. Really fucking good,” he panted, slowly pulling himself out of the commando. A thick stream of cum trickled out of Axton’s abused hole and dribbled down his thighs.

“Fuck you. What the hell,” grumbled Axton, displeased at the wet, tacky feeling of Jack’s cum dripping between his legs.

“HAH! Nope, pretty sure you’re the one who just got fucked here, princess,” said Jack, descending into peels of laughter. “I’ll tell you what, since you got me off so good, I’m gonna let you fuck kitten and get her off that good, too. If she wants. You want that, kitten?”

“About damn time,” she purred, stroking the hair on his chest.

“Well if I’m going to be doing any actual fucking, these cuffs gotta go…”

“Hmm…I do kind of want to see what you’re capable of… Should we trust him, J?”

“Hell, why not. Kid’s earned it. But just to be safe…” Jack pulled his pants back up to his hips, tucking himself away, but leaving the fly open. He removed his gun from its holster and clicked off the safety. “No funny business, ok, kiddo? One wrong move and I’ll blow brains out. And- trust me- it won’t even ruin the mood.”

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, then went about unlocking the cuffs. Rei slid up the bed to rest her back against the headboard, waiting in eager anticipation.

“Can I go get cleaned up, at least?” asked Axton, sitting up and rubbing his wrists.

“Here,” said Rei, leaning forward and pulling his shirt, still bunched around his elbows, the rest of the way off. She tossed it at him with a derisive laugh.

Axton grumbled but took the shirt and wiped down his legs and ass. He then turned to Rei and slid close enough to nudge her legs apart with his knee, a hand planted on either side of her hips. A devious smile began to play across his lips. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, checking to see where the gun and leash were in proximity to himself. Jack had given him some slack on the leash to move around, but still had the gun pointed threateningly at his head. The older man moved to kneel beside Axton, also dropping down to lean on his hands, and pressing the gun into his back.

“That good dicking I just gave ya made you a little hard, huh, Axie? You fuckin’ love the abuse, don’t you?” he said, dipping his head to mutter huskily in his ear. Jack licked a hot stripe up Axton’s neck, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Rei reached for Axton’s semi stiff cock and began giving it slow, languid strokes, pleased when he let out a low moan as he hardened beneath her fingers. He leaned in and kissed her, more aggressively and sloppier than he had earlier, and pulled her down underneath him so their hips were flush. He began to grind his now erect length against her pubic bone, enjoying the way her breasts pressed against his chest. He ran a hand down her leg, then suddenly threw it over his shoulder, ignoring the sting as her stiletto dug into his skin. The commando reached between them and began to rub her clit in small circles, making her arch her back as she squirmed underneath him in pleasure.

“Fuck me, soldier boy,” moaned Rei, rolling her hips up to meet his.

“Go on kid, give it to her,” growled Jack, watching the pair lustfully.

Axton positioned himself at Rei’s entrance and sank into her slowly while sucking kisses onto her ankle. He drew himself out almost entirely, just his cockhead teasing her lips, then slowly slid back into her warm, wet heat and repeated the motion.

“Come on soldier, I know you want it rougher than that. We just beat the crap out of you, aren’t you gonna give it right back to us? “ Jack hissed in his ear, as if he was the devil on Axton’s shoulder.

Axton ignored him, opting instead to lean down and suck Rei’s nipple. She moaned and dragged her fingers through his short cropped hair.

“Let’s go kid, if you don’t fuck her proper then I will,” snarled Jack, hooking a finger under his collar and giving it a sharp, warning tug. He was already hard again, waiting, wanting, and aching.

Axton wheezed and glared over at him, but slightly picked up his pace. Rei responded with a pleased little mewl, bringing her hips up to meet his in synchronized rhythm. Axton groaned hotly into her ear, surprised at how close to finishing he already was. He loved danger, and apparently his cock loved it, too.

Suddenly Jack was wrenching him back, sending him toppling to the side.

“Sorry, kid. You had your chance and I’m fuckin’ tired of waiting,” Jack said, shoving his pants off the rest of the way.

Jack pounced upon Rei with a feverish hunger, pulling her legs around his waist and roughly thrusting into her, making her gasp.

“Hang on tight, kitten,” he murmured in her ear, before dropping to his elbows and begging to slam his cock into her at a brutal pace. She gripped his back, her nails digging in deep enough to cause tiny pinpricks of blood to form on the surface of his skin.

Rei was moaning desperately at full volume, unable to control the sounds that Jack was wrenching out of her as he pounded away. Jack himself wasn’t much better, groaning huskily in her ear between heavy breaths, lost in a haze of chemically enhanced arousal.

Rei alternated between moans and whines and whispering filthy things in his ear, egging him on. She dragged her teeth down his neck, biting down hard when she reached the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Jack shuddered in pain and pleasure, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his groin.

“Jack, oh fuck, I’m so close,” she whispered breathily in his ear, eliciting a low, sinful groan from the man.

“Scream my name, baby. You know how I like it. Scream my name while you cum for me, kitten,” he growled.

And in moments, Rei was writhing underneath him, her hips bucking up into his, howling his name in a breathy, high pitched whine. Jack sucked in his breath as her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock, dragging him to the edge. He gave a few more uneven, hitching thrusts and came, slamming his cock into her and spilling inside her with a roar. He continued to press himself as deeply as he could, giving little thrusts, while he rode out the throbbing, twitching spurts of his orgasm, nuzzling her neck and groaning in ecstasy.

After several minutes, Jack raised himself up on his hands, shoulders hunched and panting hard.

“Well,” he said, sounding winded, “that’s how ya do it, kiddo.”

He looked over at Axton, who was leaning against the headboard next to them, one arm behind his head and the other being used to leisurely stroke his very hard cock.

“So, uh… You gonna get out of the way or what?” asked Axton gruffly, his eyes dark with lust.

Jack raised his eyebrows skeptically at him, then sat up and gently maneuvered Rei’s legs to the side. He turned to face Axton.

“Come ‘ere, kid,” Jack ordered, curling a finger at the other man.

Axton shuffled forward obediently, thoughts only focused on getting the relief he so desperately needed.

“Yeah, I’m done sharing,” Jack breathed huskily, “but I’ll tell ya what…” He licked his palm and reached down between them to grab Axton’s cock. The commando grunted and bucked his hips at the contact.

“Ooh, are you gonna help him out, J?” giggled Rei, coming up behind Axton and draping herself over his shoulders.

“I sure am, kitten. I’m just a real nice guy, what can I say?” said Jack cheerfully, beginning to stroke Axton’s leaking cock. He reached up and curled the other hand around Axton’s jaw, holding it firmly.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Axton kept his eyes shut, not wanting to ruin the sensations coursing through his groin by being eye to eye with the man who once tried to kill him.

“I said look at me,” Jack hissed dangerously.

Axton grudgingly opened his eyes and was met with the manic, fiery glare of one blue eye, one green. Jack’s stare chilled him to the core.

“Don’t forget who’s jerking you off right now, kid. When you’re beating it to this later in whatever shitty, filthy part of the galaxy you came from, just remember that it was Handsome Jack making you cum all over your stupid, pathetic self. Remember that I can kill you just as easily as I can get you off because you’re weak, Axton. You could try to stop me, if you wanted to. But you don’t want to. You’re like putty in my hands. Now cum for me, soldier boy,” said Jack in an unnervingly calm and measured tone, as if he wasn’t jerking off a man he’d just tortured for hours.

Axton screwed his eyes shut again, trying to ignore Jack’s order, willing himself not to give in… But it was all too much. The fast, rough friction of Jack’s hand, Rei’s tongue gliding up his neck and over his jaw, her nails scraping across his chest, and Jack’s words, combined with his dominating presence, his face mere inches from Axton’s own, were all too much. Before he could stop himself, Axton was shooting rope after rope of warm, sticky finish all over his own stomach. He jerked and moaned in Jack’s hand, finally slumping forward, his head hanging low, breath coming in pants. Jack wiped his hand on Axton’s shoulder, grinning maliciously, then went to retrieve his pants and slip them on.

“So now that we’re all squared away here, let’s get down to business. What do we do with you, hmm, Axie? Does he live, or does he die? That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” mused Jack, pulling his gun from its holster and spinning it around his finger.

“Maybe he’s ready to tell us who sent him. That might improve his odds, don’t you think?” said Rei sweetly.

“How about it, kid? You ready to talk, or would you rather take your chances?”

“I’m a gambling man. Love that adrenaline rush. So, in other words… you’re not getting shit out of me, old man,” laughed Axton, tauntingly.

Jack stopped spinning his gun, face suddenly contorted with rage.

“Oooh. Ok. Uh-oh. You just-” Rei began.

Jack drew back his fist and slugged Axton squarely in the gut with all his might, knocking the wind of him. The commando bent double, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

“-made things worse for yourself.” she said with a sigh.

“Good…arm..." wheezed Axton.

"Yeah. The age thing is kind of a sore spot for Jack."

"Not as sore as he's about to be," muttered Jack under his breath, quietly fuming.

“Ok, ok. Missteps aside, what are we going to do with him?”

“Well, first of all…”

Jack snatched the abandoned handcuffs from the foot of the bed, and, taking advantage of the soldier’s momentary vulnerability after getting punched by what felt like a wrecking ball, wrenched Axton’s arms behind him and slapped the cuffs back on without much of a struggle.

“And now obviously I’m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him until he gives me useful information, or he dies. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the blah-blah-blah, too late, tough shit, you already chose, pal,” sneered Jack.

A sudden chiming came from Axton’s discarded pants on the floor. Jack cocked an eyebrow and slid off the bed to retrieve them, pulling the commando’s Echo from his pocket.

“Well I’ll be damned…” he breathed.

“Don’t answer tha-“ Axton began.

“Lilith! To what do I owe the pleasure? Have a nice nap?” said Jack cheerfully, picking up the call.

“Oh what the hell, why do you have Axton’s Echo, you prick?” said Lilith’s scowling hologram.

“I don’t know; why don’t you ask him? Axie, baby, say hello.” Jack turned the Echo’s camera towards him, still naked, collared, and cuffed on the bed.

“AXTON! NOT. AGAIN,” yelled Lilith in frustration. She pressed her finger tips between her eyes, squeezing them shut momentarily.

He hung his head sheepishly, avoiding the hologram’s fierce glare.

“Sorry, Lil.”

“You had one job. ONE. Kill them. Not fuck them. KILL THEM. You couldn’t even stop them from drugging me and Roland! Is it too much to ask that you keep it in your pants for just one night? JESUS!”

“I mean, come on Lil, we both knew this would probably wind up just being a scouting mission, unless an opportunity presented itself. And it did!”

“And you still fucked it up,” she hissed.

“Woah, woah, woah, can we go back to the part about this little shit stain trying to kill us? You hired sweet cheeks here to be your assassin?” asked Jack incredulously.

“Yeah, what of it, Jack?” grumbled Lilith.

He was silent a moment, staring at the hologram in surprise. Suddenly he burst out laughing, cackling so hard that he bent double and clutched his sides.

“Nice work, cupcake! You really know how to pick ‘em,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eye. Then his voice dropped about two octaves, the laughter abruptly disappearing from his face. “I think we’ll keep him,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly.

“What? No! You can’t-“

“Eye for an eye, sweetheart. You try to fuck us, we try to fuck you… And then we all just end up fucking poor Axton. Well, mostly just me, actually.”

“No, Jack, wait, we’re willing to negotiate.”

“You got a vault key, princess?”

“No…”

“Well then you’ve got nothing I want. And I suggest you don’t come anywhere near the VIP floor unless you want to tango with fifty Badass Loader Bots, ten turrets, and my main man, Wilhelm. He’s around here somewhere. Who knows, maybe he’s even on his way down to you already! Cia!”

“Wait! What about-“

Jack hung up the call.

“So much for that truce, huh? What a cunt,” he said, turning to Rei.

She had pulled a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and had one dangling from her mouth, and was now sitting with her back against the headboard, arms crossed, glowering. She pulled a lighter from the pack and lit her cigarette, inhaling deeply, then exhaled a slow, steady stream of swirling smoke.

“That bitch. I made sure you didn’t kill her, or even harm her, just so she could send an assassin after us? Un-fucking-believable.”

“That’s what people do, kiddo. They’ll smile to your face while stabbing you in the back. Although… this guy wasn’t much of an assassin, now, was he?” he said, ruffling Axton’s hair.

“You two gonna kill me, or what?” grunted Axton.

“Honestly? Haven’t decided yet. Make yourself useful, and who knows, maybe there’s a job for you at the Rhysie Pole. You definitely won’t be a free man ever again, though, that’s for sure. Now, as much as I want to stay and play, we should probably put some distance between us and the fire-bitch. Get dressed, kitten.”

“Back to Helios?” she asked, flicking her cigarette.

“Yep. Looks like we’ve got some work to do,” he said, cracking the leash over Axton’s back like a whip and cackling as the commando howled in pain.

[thebullmonkey]

Favorite Things: SANDITON Edition

For some reason, the first season officially ending its television run over here in The States has bummed me out even more, despite my having properly finished the season weeks ago and having already completed at least 5 full re-watches at this point.

I guess it just feels extra scary now about the fate of our dear Sanditonians? Sanditonites? Regency Cinnamon Rolls? Whatever you want to call them - I have this odd feeling of missing them even though I can watch them pretty much anytime I want. Is that weird? Am I weird? Don’t answer that!

Anyway, here’s a random, probably anachronistic list of some of my favorite Sanditon moments & things....

Every adorable Charlotte smile

The way Sidney says “Miss Heywood” whether in annoyance, anger, or secret desire

“New maid?”

Every annoyed Charlotte look - Rose has SUCH an exquisitely expressive face!

THAT SIDNEY EYEROLL

The way Sidney growls “What is it?”

The way Sidney softly questions “What is it?” to Charlotte when she’s birthing the Regatta idea

The way Charlotte & Sidney look so good standing or walking next to each other - they just look like they belong together forever

Young Stringer’s cartoonish accent in comparison to every other character’s “standard” English accent

When Esther’s all “hey you wanna walk with me” and Charlotte agrees but is too slow and Esther looks back at her after literally 3 paces like “BITCH, KEEP UP”

When Esther tells Charlotte she is “that bitch who will poison another bitch in my way” and Esther doesn’t break eye contact or her stride

Arthur talking about eating 6 or 7 slices of toast on the reg like it’s NBD

Arthur offering to make Charlotte some toast

The way Crow yells “BABERS!!” repeatedly

Crow just being an unapologetic drunken fuckboi

The Sidlotte pineapple luncheon party scene - especially how sweet it is that Sidney’s serving Charlotte soup

Arthur having about enough of Lady D’s insolence at his future BFF, Georgiana, and ravaging that rotten ass pineapple in vengeance

When Lady D calls out “Mr. Parker” and all three brothers turn around in unison - each one with their distinct personalities showing through

Tom and Sidney dressing alike for the Regatta - so cute

Basically the whole Cricket match & when Tom says “I really don’t think I am[out]!” (The timbre of his voice sounds exactly like how he spoke in "Love Actually" and I am always here for “Colin - God of Sex!” (But also FUCK TOM PARKER FOREVER, THO)

The way Sidney looks confused and aroused when Charlotte roasts him at the luncheon + tells him to STFU - she’s trying to concentrate - during The Cricket

How Sidney goes from stoic to cinnamon roll throughout 8 glorious episodes

Sidney’s soft voice

Georgiana not giving an ounce of a fuck about Edward & her immunity to his charms

"Who is your favorite poet?"

When it doesn't look like the laborers will show for The Cricket and Edward's all "CAN WE GO?!"

Every perfect thing Babington says to Esther

Esther's hair when she wears it down

The smile Esther gives when she & Lady D are playing cards after she didn't die

All the satin looks for the rich ladies (Georgi & Eliza's bitch ass)

All the WIND

The ROWING SCENE

The way Sidney says "Come on" to get Charlotte in the boat

THAT FUCKING ROWING SCENE

Sidney taking liberties and stealing body touches during that entire scene

"Keep your back straight..." & the impish laugh after he'd gotten away with such an intimate touch

Dr. Fuchs needing actual liquor to deal with Arthur & Diana's silly asses

WET SIDNEY

Charlotte's luscious wavy hair at the start of Ep 8

The Truest Self speech

All of Sidney's side eyes & spying on Charlotte's Young Stringer interactions

Young Stringer's bestie - that dude has balls and is so ride or die! Always supporting his bud in the fiercest way

The way The Beaufort girls say "Mr. Hankins"

The way the Beaufort girls always fawn over Sidney

"Admiral Heywood" - that whole adorable ass scene

Sidney's constant posing

The London carriage scenes with Char & Sid as a whole

The London carriage scene where Sidney emphatically says "I-COULD- NOT-HAVE-BEEN-ANY-CLEAR-ER..." That sounds EXACTLY how I imagine Theo actually argues IRL with people 😂

All the dancing

The brothel scene

Honestly - every Char & Sid scene is what I live for

Lady Denham ROASTING TOM'S USELESS NO-INSURANCE-HAVING ASS

Mary being so wrecked that Charlotte is leaving

Lady Susan's EVERYTHING

THAT👏MOTHER👏FUCK👏ING👏KISS

Sidney being awkward as fuck in general - but especially pre-💋

Charlotte being inquisitive & speaking her mind respectfully but also telling Sidney he sucks when he deserves it

The Char & Georgi friendship

Young Stringer & team winning the Regatta

Every profile shot of Sidney - good lord Theo is good from every angle!

BASICALLY ALL OF IT

Even though things are up in the air and I often say to myself "I kind of wish I never watched Sanditon..." (because FEELS, y'all) I'm so so so glad I did. I haven't been touched by a show or story or characters like this in a very long time. They will always be with me, I will always have random Sanditon quotes and scenes and images in my brain, and I will adore and cherish this series for the rest of my life.

FINGERS STILL MASSIVELY CROSSED THAT THE GODS BE KIND AND GIVE US A PROPER ENDING IN A SECOND SEASON.

[idabbleincrazy]

Some peeks at my WIP’s...

Night Bloom:

“You do love to provoke me, whelp.” You could hear the two of them still bickering as you wet a washcloth and began wiping away the sticky remnants of Spike’s cum from your chest, Spike’s laughter breaking on a moan and a soft curse. Angel’s voice took on a bit of his old Irish lilt as he continued on, his words barely perceptible to your Slayer-heightened hearing. “One of these days, yer insolence will bring ya much more pain than ye bargained for, Spike, you’re just lucky we’ve got better things planned, or it might just’ve been tonight. Still think I need to remind you of a lesson or two, boy, knock ya back down a peg.”

You knew you would love the sight you were going to walk in on as you heard a muffled growl and the creaking sound of a headboard in danger of splintering. You quickly wiped off the final traces of cum and tossed the washcloth into the hamper in the corner before stepping out of the bathroom. You felt a fresh flood of arousal pool between your legs as you stood in the doorway, admiring the tableau in front of you. 

Angel’s head was nestled among the pillows, his eyes closed, lips parted on a needless gasp, his back arched slightly off the bed. You trailed your gaze over his beautiful body, down to where Spike knelt between his legs, his hand fisting in the blonde's hair as he thrust up. Spike let out a soft moan as Angel's cock disappeared between his kiss-reddened lips, his hands gripping at Angel's thighs.

Go Out with a Bang part 2:

As Angel urged him out of the spray again and sunk to his knees in front of him, his soul and the demon crowed in tandem delight, an unneeded breath catching in his throat. Angel’s hands gripped tight at his thighs and he looked up at Spike, his eyes hooded as his lips parted to wrap around the tip of his cock. 

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” Spike’s hand shot out to cup the back of Angel’s head, fingers carding through the short strands, fighting the urge to buck into the wet grip of his mouth. “‘S good, so good, Peaches. Forgot how hot you look like this, lips all stretched around me, bloody brazen and coy at once. You are an enigma, Angel.”

Angel hummed around his girth and took him further, his tongue following the vein that ran down the length of him, one hand drifting to tug at his sac as he pulled back up his shaft. Spike grunted and squeezed his eyes shut, needing to block out the lewd portrait Angel made as he smirked up at him before swirling his tongue around the head of his cock.  He knew a sight like that could push him over before they’d even began, and fuck if he didn’t want to bask in this feeling a bit longer. 

“Christ, Angel. If the world doesn’t end tonight, we definitely need to do this more often.” Spike let out a huff of a laugh as he felt Angel’s scowl around him. “Lose the brood, pet, jus’ speaking my mind. No help for it, as you bloody - oh gods - well know. Yeah. Like that, luv, fuck, just like that.”

Mendings, Major and Minor:

“What?” Angel looked over at him, confused, and finally noticed how close they were, his shoulder still brushing against Spike’s. He shifted uncomfortably, but Spike noticed he didn’t actually move away. “Shut up, Spike.”

“I will not! Told you, that otter blood’s too rich to be indulging in as often as you do.” Spike nudged Angel teasingly to get him to look back over at him. Ignoring his glare, he continued. “You’ve always been bulkier than most of us, but now it’s not quite so much muscle, mate. Need to get yourself back into fighting shape; office life’s takin’ its toll on you.”

“Still managed to save your ass from getting dusted by a slimy Chaos Demon,” Angel admonished, a tinge of a growl lacing his words. “Don’t know what you were thinking, taking on that many of them. Or what I was thinking, letting you drag me along, convincing me it was just an easy kill.”

Angel looked over at Spike, and the blonde at least had the decency to look sheepish at the reprimanding. Leave it to Angel to make him feel like a fledge all over again, like he had just been caught returning home too close to sunrise. Angelus had always been strict about unnecessary risks, tried beyond measure to teach him to be careful. Neither promise of reward nor threat of punishment had won out over the impish demon’s parlous nature, though, no matter how cowed he may have seemed by the end of Angelus’ tirades.

[keichanz]

Toss a Coin

so today i had the insane, intense urge to write a scene from Netflix’s The Witcher and well *shrug* if you haven’t watched it yet, you probably shouldn’t read this if you don’t want any spoilers, but then again, who the hell am i to tell you what to do hahaha. 

but anyway it’s basically the Inuyasha version of this scene where that one guy is like “HE DIED” Jas is like “eh he’s fine” and then fucking Geralt just crashes through the door because perfect timing. Obvi Inuyasha is Geralt, and Miroku is Jasiker because god it’s just too fucking perfect lmao

anyway, i don’t plan on making this a thing. i just really wanted to write this one part and it wouldn't leave me alone until i did. and I am eternally grateful to @noyourenotreal​ for having the stroke of genus to write an Inuyasha Witcher AU because i would be tempted to do it myself if they hadn’t and I don’t have the time hahah. their fic is called Of Monsters and Men and it’s so good guys check it out!

originally i was going to use the dialogue word for word, but at the advice of a friend and further thinking, i nixed that idea and gave it my own flare so i can stay true to Inuyasha and Miroku’s personalities. I think i did alright.

a random note: basically during the entire time i watched this show i was screaming “INUUKAAAAAAAG” because OMG the inukag is STRONG with geralt and yennefer it is riDICULOUS 

note: a translation of what the man in the first part is saying can be found at the end of this oneshot. he speaks in a Scottish dialect and I realize it can be difficult to understand. 

oh and also tagging my ladies that expressed an interest in reading this ;D @lemonlushff​ @hinezumi​ @tsukinohimeusagi​ 

“It's th' truth, Ah teel ye,” the portly man rasped, his blood and dirt streaked face twisted into a troubled expression and his gray eyes holding a wealth of shocked disbelief, “It main hae swallowed th' bludy village whole! Nary a bain, scrap ay clootie— naethin' was left!”

He looked around while the patrons gasped and murmured in horror, but when he spotted a familiar face gazing back with skepticism, his gaze hardened into a glare. The nay-sayer, a scrawny little weasel named Noliff, narrowed his eyes in return.

“Aye, quite it wi' 'at swatch, ye wee jobby,” he growled, bracing his hands on the table as he leaned forward. “Ah ken whit yoo're thinkin'. We hud wee choice but tae caa heem.”

Abruptly he stood up, his chair scraping against the wooden floor as wild eyes scanned his rapt audience.

“The White Wolf.” With every gaze on him and expressions varying from horror, shock, and excitement, he continued, recalling in vivid detail the fate of the notorious White Wolf. “Ah can still see it—he stuid in th' middle ay 'at frizzen loch lake he kent th' beest was comin’.”

Silence all around as the patrons listened intently with undivided attention, he immersed himself in his storytelling, his eyes going wide and his voice laced with the genuine fear he’d felt just hours prior.

“Th’ ice cracked wide open,” he said, gesturing with his hands as his wild gaze swung around the room again. “An' a selkiemair shot it! Och, yoo’ve ne'er seen a body, but it’d tak' doon a ship wi' its cavernoos gob foo ay devil’s teeth!

More gasping and murmurs of astonishment followed that proclamation, and there was a wild, far-away look in his eyes as he regaled with vigor, “An’ it…swallowed…that Witcher…whole!”

With hands clasped together, the man bowed his head, expression contorted into one of deep, intense sorrow as the villagers speculated amongst themselves, whispering and muttering and exchanging glances.

“Yes, this is wonderful!”

The man faltered, blinked, and slowly turned to glance down at the bard sitting to his left who had, this entire time, been furiously scribbling down his tragic tale of the Wither and the selkie.

Miroku glanced up at the portly man, did a quick double-take, and then paused his written recounting in his parchment book.

“Apologies,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s just Inuyasha is never so generous with the details. He always makes it sound so boring.” He shrugged and went back to his documenting while the storyteller, and everyone else, gaped at him.

“Now then. Please, continue, my good man. What happened next?” he asked, glancing back up at the man with a patient, inquisitive look up on his face.

With a frown, the man diverted his gaze back to the table and brought to mind what had happened next. He swallowed once, twice, and the look on his face was deeply troubled as he appeared to struggle saying what came next.

“He died,” he revealed, head bowed and eyes closed. A collective gasp echoed around them.

Miroku stared blankly at him for a moment and then said, “Bah. He’s fine.”

Completely unconcerned, the bard turned back to his scribbling, seeming to ignore the man as he turned his frown on him, looking a mite affronted.

“Listen haur,” he began, his tone urgent as he jabbed a finger at him. “Ah was thaur. Ah saw it wi' mah ain—!”

The door to the tavern crashed open and as one, everybody – save Miroku, who, calm as you please, continued to nonchalantly write in his book – turned around with gasps of exclamation. The storyteller’s mouth dropped open as a few bystanders not so subtly lifted a hand to cover their nose and mouth with varying looks of disgust.

“See?” Miroku drawled, not looking up from his writing.

Standing before the two men, clutching his sword and completely covered in blood, guts, and other questionable matter that dripped from his hair and clothes, Inuyasha regarded them with a look that was difficult to decipher beneath the bloody sludge on his face. The scowl, however, became apparent as he schlepped forward, the patrons backing away the closer he got and giving him a very wide berth.

While Miroku laughed merrily, the storyteller looked completely aghast as he stared at the Witcher.

“Och,” he breathed, looking truly astonished to be staring at the man who he had witnessed be swallowed whole by a savage beast. “Whit is 'at reek?”

Golden eyes slid his way. “Selkiemore guts,” Inuyasha supplied matter-of-factly while behind him a man gagged and the patrons not so discreetly edged away. “Obviously. Fucker swallowed me whole so I gutted it from the inside.” He snorted. “So, you gonna pay me or what?”

Absolutely delighted, Miroku stood with a grin and sang, “Toss a coin to your witcher, O, Valley of Plenty!”

Nodding frantically, the man reached into his shirt and withdrew a bag of coins before tossing it to the man, the Witcher who had miraculously bested the odds against him and survived being eaten by a monster.

Inuyasha caught it, expression deadpan as Miroku continued his ditty and everyone joined in, raising their pints at him as they sang a tribute to The White Wolf. Unimpressed, he snorted and turned away, ignoring everyone as he bypassed them to unceremoniously drop his sword on the bar.

“You’re welcome,” Miroku chirped over his shoulder while the villagers cheered and Inuyasha only spared him a brief glance before snatching up the pint set in front of him and knocking it back. “Now then, my good Witcher friend, I think now would be a good time—”

Inuyasha abruptly turned his head to the side and spit out the vile tasting concoction that was supposedly passed off as beer around here. He scowled and carelessly tossed the empty pint onto the counter.

“…To repay your debt,” Miroku finished lamely, cocking a brow. Inuyasha glared at him. Clearing his throat, Miroku tired a jovial smile and continued, “Ah, you’re wondering what the in blazes I’m talking about, yes?”

Inuyasha ignored him and reached up to scratch at his ears in irritation. Damn, but the guts were starting to dry and his ears were itching like fucking crazy.

“I have made you famous, Witcher,” the bard supplied point blank with raised eyebrows, undeterred by his apparent disinterest. When still he didn’t receive a response, Miroku shrugged and said, “Rightfully a small percentage of your wages should be mine to claim. However, because I find myself fascinated by your charm and strong, silent type demeanor—”

Inuyasha groaned and dropped his elbows on the bar before dropping his head into his hands.

“—instead I would like to swap out any monetary earnings for a small…tiny little favor.” Miroku tipped his head back and gazed innocently up at the ceiling as he sipped his own beverage.

“Fuck off, bard,” Inuyasha growled without preamble, not interested in any of the favors he was asking for.

“Just hear me out, my good man. Er, half-man,” he corrected and aimed a charming smile when amber eyes cut his way. “Just for a single night of service – just a few hours, really – the rewards would indeed be worth your while, a cornucopia of earthly delights, if you will.”

Inuyasha snorted his opinion of that and counted his money.

“The greatest masters of the culinary arts crafting morsels worthy of the gods,” Miroku tempted. “And the women…” He sighed and the Witcher mused that the dopey smile on his face suited him rather well. “Beautiful, enchanting maidens with their shapely bodies and plump bosoms and perfect bottoms… Ah, truly a sight to behold!

“Not to mention there will be plentiful, sweet drinks to imbibe,” Miroku continued, oblivious to his companion’s departure, until he tossed an impish smile his way and discovered he was talking to air. He spun around and easily spotted the man stomping toward the exit.

“Food, women, and wine, Inuyasha!” Miroku crowed in a last-ditch effort since apparently his waxing poetic did not ensnare the half-demon as he’d hoped it would. He should have known; the Witcher was as tough and gruff as they come, so it made sense poesy would not appeal to him.

Inuyasha stopped and for the first time actually seemed to be considering the bard’s proposition. The women part he didn’t particularly care for, but if there was even a small chance he could get his hands on some half-way decent booze…

He turned, looked over his shoulder, and when Miroku waggled his brows at him with that stupid grin, Inuyasha groaned and muttered, “Fuck.”

Just what the hell was he getting into?

Scotsman’s translation: 

It’s the truth, I tell ya. It must have swallowed the bloody village whole! Nary a bone, a scrap of cloth—nothing was left! Aye, quit it with that look, ya little shit. I know what you’re thinkin’. We had little choice but to call him. I can still see it—he stood in the middle of the frozen lake like he knew the beast was coming. The ice cracked wide open. And a selkiemore shot out! Oh, you’ve never seen one, but it’d take down a ship with its cavernous mouth full of devil’s teeth! Listen here. I was there. I saw it with my own—! Oh. What is that stench?

[newnewyorker93]

Blueprints for a Rescue

read on ao3 here

Pepperony Week 2020 • Day 1: battle couple

Summary: Tony gives Pepper something special for their 1st wedding anniversary, and Pepper makes an important decision.

—

“Hey, Pep! Do you have a minute?”

Pepper looked up from where she was sitting, curled up on the living room floor with baby Morgan lying on her stomach next to her. Morgan was giggling and shrieking excitedly as she grabbed for the toy Pepper held out for her - a plush platypus, a gift from Uncle Rhodey and currently one of her favorite toys; its beak let out a very satisfying squeak! whenever she managed to squeeze it tight enough in her tiny fists. The two of them were so engrossed in their little game that Pepper hadn’t even noticed Tony entering the room but there he was now, standing next to the coffee table. He had something held behind his back, a thick roll of paper, and he was tapping it against the back of his leg while doing that shift-shuffling move with his feet that Pepper knew meant he was nervous about whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

Instead of answering his question directly, she instead addressed Morgan. “What do you think? Should we see what your silly father is up to this time?” The baby gurgled happily in response and tried to roll over, a move she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and Pepper gave her back a quick rub in acknowledgement of the attempt before looking back up at Tony with an inviting smile. “Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, hesitating slightly. “I'd hate to interrupt tummy time.”

Pepper laughed. "Morgan's got a very full schedule today, but I think we can squeeze you in."

“Oh good. I've got something for you. A present, actually. For our anniversary.”

Pepper stopped rubbing Morgan’s back, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “It’s not our anniversary.”

“I know.”

“Our anniversary is next week.”

“I  know.”

"But you're giving me a present today?"

"A stunningly accurate summation of the situation, yes. Astute as always, pepper pot!" Tony was teasing her now, but Pepper could tell there was an undercurrent of real nervousness behind his words. His voice softened, then, as he explained, “It’s just, this is- well, is about to be- our first anniversary, and I want to get it right, and given my, shall we say, mixed track record on gifts…” He trailed off, giving Pepper a second to fill in the blank. She did a quick mental inventory of Tony’s various ‘surprises’ over the years - when he got it right, he got it really right, and when he didn’t...well when he didn’t a team of construction workers ended up getting hired to rip a hole in their wall so a 15-foot-tall stuffed bunny could be maneuvered through. So yeah, maybe his concern wasn’t entirely unwarranted, although whatever this was at least already had the advantage of fitting inside the house. Evidently enough of this thought process could be read on Pepper’s face because Tony nodded in agreement before continuing. “See, you get it. Hence, my brilliant solution! I give you your present a week early, and then I’ve got time to put together a plan B in case you don’t like this one!”

“And if I do like it?” Pepper asked, amused and touched by Tony’s mildly convoluted approach to problem solving.

“Oh, in that case I will…um, still have to find something special to give you on the day of…” Tony scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “I really didn’t think that part through, did I? Although In my defense, this is my first go at a wedding anniversary.”

“Hmm, fair. You’d better get used to it though,” Pepper teased. “You’re going to have a lot more of them to figure out.”

“Yeah…” A soft happy smile lit up Tony’s face, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he was lost for a moment, thinking about that.

“So,” Pepper eventually prompted, “do I get to actually see my pre-anniversary present?”

“Yes! Right. Of course.” Tony moved aside the few knick-knacks left out on the coffee table and unrolled the papers he’d been holding behind his back onto it, revealing a stack of technical drawings. He gestured for Pepper to scoot forward and take a look. "I made you a suit! Well, to be more precise, I designed you a suit."

Pepper examined the figure on the top page and frowned. Armor would be a generous description for whatever this was, as it looked more like a bikini that just happened to be made out of metal rather than anything meant to be in any way protective. It wasn’t until she looked up, ready to indignantly lay into Tony because what the fuck, that she caught the tell-tale mischievous twinkle in his eyes and realized what he was doing.

“Oh god, babe, you should see your face right now!” Tony crowed. “Just a little joke to break the tension,” he reassured Pepper, “I mean, come on, it’d be completely useless as armor like this, no defensive coverage at all. Although I'm sure we could find something else to use it for… Yes? No? You're smiling, Pep, I can see it!” She was smiling, biting back a laugh because it was just so Tony, getting his anxiety out by completely designing and drawing out by hand an entire prank suit of armor. “We'll file that one under maybe, then… But seriously, as much as I enjoy a bit of pin-up Pepper, this-” he pulled aside the top sheet with a dramatic flourish, unveiling a set of schematics for a suit that looked much more like his own Iron Man armor, if slightly more feminine, “-is your real present, should you choose to accept it." 

Tony sat himself down on the floor across the table from Pepper, giving her some space to study the blueprints more closely. After a few moments of forcing himself to sit perfectly still he scooped Morgan up off the rug and snuggled her up to his chest, letting his daughter’s squirming distract him from the otherwise irresistible urge to start fidgeting and drumming his fingers against his leg as he waited for Pepper’s verdict.

“This is…wow.” Pepper didn’t even know where to begin. She was awed by the sheer scope of the project, at the amount of time Tony must have put into making this for her - there were pages and pages of plans, intricate renderings of every piece of the suit from helmet to gauntlets to boots and every bit in between, all painstakingly (and gorgeously; with so much of his work done in holograms and machinery, it was easy to forget how much of an artist Tony really was) hand-drawn and neatly labeled down to the most precise measurements. “How… You drew all of this?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve had the image in my head for years, this was just letting it all out, finally. Like an exorcism.” Pepper cocked her head at that and Tony laughed. “Ok, maybe that’s not the best metaphor, but you know what I mean. Besides, it was kind of nice to go analog again, break out the old pencil and paper. And it wasn’t all me! Morgan helped too.”

"Oh really?"

"Yep! Very helpful design critic, our daughter. Here, I'll show you." Tony flipped forward to a sheet that displayed detailed close-up and exploded views of the suit's helmet. "She really liked this part, see?" He pointed out the signs of Morgan's interest - a wrinkly spot on the corner of the page where the baby had clearly drooled on the paper, and a few smudges the exact width of her tiny fingers streaked right across the center of the main drawing. "Tried to grab your helmet right off the page!"

While Pepper fondly examined this father-daughter collaboration, Tony turned his attention to Morgan, giving the pint-sized engineer a playful bounce in his arms. “You really are your Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Morgan smooshed her hand onto Tony’s face in response and he pretended to nibble at the tips of her fingers, making her (and Pepper) laugh. “You want a suit too, baby girl?”

Pepper stopped laughing at that and looked sternly at her husband. "Tony, please tell me you aren't…"

"Of course not," Tony retorted, making sure to sound appropriately scandalized at the very notion. “I told her, I said, not until you’re at least six-” he waited for Pepper to glare, right on cue, then finished with an impish grin, “-teen.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at that, but affectionately, and focused back on the schematics. “What’s this mean, here?” she asked, pointing out the title block at the corner of the page.

“Oh, that’s what I’ve been calling her, Rescue.” Tony explained. “You can change if you want something different though!” he hurriedly added. “Maybe something a bit flashier - you don’t know how tempted I was to go with Iron Maiden; a bit more my speed than yours, of course, but you’re welcome to it. Anyway, I just kept coming back to that first time I saw you suited up, remember? In the Mark 42 armor, how you saved me…” How you’ve saved me so many times, in so many ways over the years, he thought, but left unspoken. “It’ll still have all the usual defensive and attack capabilities, of course, and we can add in whatever fancy tricks and toys you want, but the primary intent is, well, rescue.”

“Did you start building it already?”

“No, I-” Tony’s eyes met Pepper’s and she could see the vulnerability there, the kind he only ever let her see. “I did this for you, Pepper, only for you, and it’s your choice. It doesn’t need to go any further than this, it can just be some art for our bedroom wall, if that’s all you want it to be. But I needed to show it to you either way. So…what do you think?"

Pepper traced her finger lightly over a little inset drawing on the last page of the blueprints. It was an image of Iron Man and Rescue flying next to each other, more of a sketch than a schematic really (although, knowing Tony, more likely than not still to scale and accurate in all technical aspects). There was probably some mundane reason for that picture to be there, maybe to show a size comparison between the suits, but all Pepper could think of as she looked at it was Tony sitting at his worktable in the garage, lovingly drawing the two of them twirling through the air together. Maybe telling Morgan about it, spinning her stories of her parents as knights in shining armor, off to save the world. She could see how much he wanted this - for her, for them - in every line, in every detail so lovingly rendered, and to her surprise she realized she really did want it too.

They’d talked so much, over the years, about the negative side of Tony and his suits - the obsession, all the ways he’d hidden away and almost lost himself in them - but that’s never been the whole story. There’s freedom there, and joy too and this...this, she understood, was Tony trying to share all that with her. It wasn’t insecurity or a distraction, it was calm and careful - and beautiful. Invention born out of love, not fear. And just like that, Pepper knew what her answer was. She shifted her gaze back towards Tony’s tentative, hopeful face. “I think…” she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, Tony, I’ll be your Rescue.”

[ahkaraii]

Rarepair generator: Kakashi & Maito Dai (2100 words)

“They say there’s a God that lives in the volcano.” Obito’s eyes gleam red in the fire. “They say it’s sleeping, waiting to hear its name.”

“That’s unlikely,” Kakashi says in between the crackles of wood.

“It’s name is Death,” Rin says solemnly. “I know, because I saw it die.”

Kakashi frowns behind his surgical mask. He has never known Rin to lie, but then again, he has not known her very long.

Abruptly, Obito and Rin break out into giggles. “You fell for it!” Rin crows.

“Scaredy Crow!” Obito christens him. “You looked so spooked!”

“I did not!” Kakashi bristles like sparks from an open flame.

“Aww, don’t go!” Rin pleads, reaching out for his hand.

“Sit down, c’mon!” Obito strong arms Kakashi back onto his seat. “Don’t be so sensitive.” He’s got a healthy dusk of hair on his arms, and it distracts Kakashi into compliance. Rin slides next to him, and the warmth of their bodies is hotter than the fire before them.

Kakashi feels both trapped and secure between them, and it keeps him from leaving all throughout the night, even as they make up stupider and stupider stories. He falls for every single one, just to see them smile.

--

Kakashi doesn’t tell his father about Rin and Obito, but he does talk about the tale of the volcano God, thinking it will make his father smile.

“Ah,” Sakumo says quietly. “So that is how Dai is remembered.”

Kakashi frowns. “Die?”

His father has radiated sadness for as long as Kakashi has known him, but the creases around his mouth become more pronounced as he explains, “A long time ago, a man fell into the dormant crater. He was never seen again.” Sakumo looks very old. “The village children must have made up a story about the incident, and time has twisted it to legend.”

Kakashi thinks about Rin and Obito’s faces, burnt gaunt and dead from fire. “Who falls into a volcano?” he says rudely, to banish the fearful image.

“Someone who has been pushed,” Sakumo says, and then says no more about the subject.

--

The climb is steep, and Kakashi nearly trips on his sandals twice. He envies Rin and Obito’s ease, and takes to calling then Mountain Goats in his mind. Two horns would well suit their devilish nature.

“D’you think he’s still in there?” Rin asks, barely out of breath.

“His bones might be,” Kakashi says. “Hydroxyapatite’s boiling point is higher than the temperature of lava.”

“Geez,” Obito says. “City boy AND a nerd.”

Rin links arms with Kakashi, hefting him forward. “Now you’re the odd one out, Obito,” she sing-songs, and laughs when he makes a noise of outrage.

--

It’s oddly cool at the summit, and the vast divide between one end of the crater and the other makes Kakashi think it almost logical to believe something divine could have carved it.

“I can’t see anything,” Obito says. “Where d’you think he fell?”

“Death!” Rin hollers, and the crater echoes it, death, death.

“Death!” Obito yells, and he and Rin break out into giggles, the laughter distorted back at them.

Kakashi comes close to the lip of the precipice, and looks down, down. He thinks of his father’s sadness, and the old colostomy scar that still mars his stomach, and the way he said, someone who has been pushed. “Die,” he whispers into the abyss.

The ground abruptly shakes.

Kakashi yelps, Obito and Rin scream, and they trip and fall over themselves scrambling backwards, hands scrabbling to clutch each other’s arms, shirts, trouser legs. Kakashi loses his sandals somewhere on the way, Obito falls flat on his face and breaks his nose, and Rin has to help them both down, their panicked tears turning into incredulous laughter as they realize there is no explosion incoming, there is no God coming to smite them, and that they are still together, whole and alive.

--

Afterward, the right half of Obito’s face swells so much he’s nearly unrecognizable. The soles of Kakashi’s feet are so scratched he is unable to walk for two whole weeks. Rin, for her part, is miraculously unharmed. She takes to wheeling Kakashi around, taking him from his and his father’s run down house to her and Obito’s apartment.

Rin teaches him how to take care of his wounds. Obito teaches Kakashi how to do wheelies. In that tiny one bedroom apartment, Kakashi learns how to love two idiots, and they how to love him.

--

Summer ends too soon, and he has to go back to the city. Obito cries and Rin promises to write. Kakashi takes off his mask, and kisses them goodbye. He thinks to himself, no you won’t, and leaves his heart behind.

Time proves him right.

--

Kakashi’s father lost part of his colon in the war. Or maybe it had been in the car crash that had taken his mother. Or maybe Sakumo had taken a kitchen knife and tried to slice his own stomach open, and failed. The truth is, Kakashi doesn’t know what gave his father that jagged scar. He could make up any number of stories, and they would all end up saying the same thing: his father carries with him a sadness that Kakashi cannot erase, and one day it will kill him.

--

At his father’s funeral, Kakashi thinks of the story of the volcano God for the first time in a long time. He thinks of a man staring at the edge of a large precipice, and a pair of hands pushing him down, down, to his death. He thinks of Obito and Rin, then, of their hands, Obito’s callouses and Rin’s nail polish, their fingers twining around his own, over his chest, over his heart, and the feeling of falling.

“And now you’re dead,” Kakashi says. “And no one will remember you.”

If he cries then, no one can say. No one went to the funeral, after all.

--

“Is that...”

“Scaredy Crow!”

Rin and Obito greet him like they never left him. Then again, they never did. It was Kakashi that did the leaving, after all.

He’s quieter now. They each have a gold ring around their finger. Obito and Rin got married and he never knew.

They shouldn’t work anymore. His adolescent solemnity has matured into a twisted version of his father’s perpetual melancholy, and their childish devilry has barely mellowed in their adulthood. He’s intruding upon their relationship, he thinks. He didn’t come back to ruin them.

But Rin and Obito settle on his right and on his left like they belong there. They laugh with him, even if he has forgotten how to laugh. They fill his silences and warm his bed, and his heart, cleaved in two, slowly stitches itself back together.

A scar remains.

--

The climb is less steep than he remembers it being, but the journey feels longer in his solitude.

--

At the summit, Kakashi carefully makes his way around the broad lips of the volcano. He thinks of how hot a fire must burn before bones will crumble. His father’s bones cracked in the kiln, and now only shards of his femur and jaw bone remain, mixed inside the pile of grey ashes Kakashi carries now inside the urn he’s so painstakingly carried up the mountain.

It’s lonely up here, and hotter than it had been all those years ago. He can hardly see through his tears.

“My father was born here,” Kakashi whispers. “And now, my father will die here.”

The ground shakes. A hot burst of wind hits Kakashi from the side, and he unceremoniously topples over the side. His scream cuts short on the way down.

--

He wakes to pain, and fire. It’s hard to breathe. For a moment, he doesn’t know where he is, or who he is.

“Kakashi! Kakashi! Kakashi!”

The name echoes like someone is playing squash with it, squash with his head. Kakashi’s head is bleeding, and the ground he’s fallen on is painfully hot. His hand is bent at a very odd angle, and for one delirious second he thinks, now I will see how hot my bones must become to char.

“Kakashi!”

He comes to properly. “Obito?” he rasps, wetly. “Rin!”

“Kakashi! Kakashi!”

They cannot hear him, and he is too weak to yell. The air is hazy from the heat of it.

Oh, God. He has fallen into the volcano.

“Rin,” he moans. Kakashi has surely broken more than just his wrist in the fall. He ignores the pain, and, with a monumental effort, drags himself up to his knees. He remembers a summer a lifetime ago, the scars on the soles of his bare feet, how much it hurt to walk. Rin had pushed his wheelchair for him. Obito had taught him how to wheel it in style.

He can’t stop the memories now. He remembers their faces, the dimples of Obito’s impish smile, the crease of Rin’s eyes when she looks at him; the warmth of their hands on his.

“Oh God,” Kakashi whispers. “I don’t want to die.”

The world shakes violently. Before him the ground splits like God himself has dug his hands into the earth and parted it like clay, lava surging out of the cracks like a geyser. Kakashi screams.

The scattered bones and ashes of his father incinerate around him, but somehow, Kakashi does not burn. His scream runs out of air, and he stares, wide eyed, as the lava congeals to form an almost...humanoid shape.

“The Mountain God,” he whispers, almost against his will.

The creature’s roar is the very shaking of the ground. His eyes are white hot slits in the blackened crust of skin, broken by fiery red veins of lava. His hair is the fire that burns above it all, majestic and cataclysmic.

“Hatake,” the thing may have said. Kakashi loses consciousness.

--

The story goes like this: many years ago, a man was pushed into the volcano by seven boys, or perhaps it was only the one. Or maybe he fell into it because he was an idiot. Or maybe he was trying to save his son, and they burned in each other’s arms, until only their skeletons remained in the heart of the mountain. Whatever the truth of it may have been, these are the facts: Kakashi fell into the volcano, and survived. He will wake and claim until his dying day that the Mountain God saved him.

--

Obito and Rin nurse Kakashi back to health. He may have survived, but not wholly intact. He shattered more bones than he cares to think about, so he’s bed bound significantly longer than two weeks. His right leg was burned so severely that it ultimately had to be amputated, and the initial impact sliced his left eyeball right out, disfiguring him. He will probably remain wheelchair bound for the rest of his life.

Kakashi thinks he should be sad, that he should be frustrated, or horrified, but maybe the fall jostled his brains because he can’t help but laugh about it, after. He’s alive, and Obito and Rin are by his side, and he was saved by the Mountain God.

It takes him six months to become independent again, but he’s never felt more alive. Obito gets him a shiny glass eyeball with a blood red iris as a joke, but Kakashi sticks it into his eye socket with glee. Rin thinks it’s in bad taste so she gets him an eyepatch. Together, they buy him a fantastically dynamic wheelchair. On their anniversary, he dog piles them both on top of his lap and wheels them around town to show off how strong he’s gotten.

On the anniversary of his accident, Obito and Rin get him a golden ring. He wears it around his neck like a lifeline, or a dogtag. Having lost a leg, he’s well aware of how easy it is to lose a limb and he would not chance losing their treasure in such a manner. Obito says he’s being super morbid, Scaredy Crow, but Rin understands, and their marriage bands overlap at night, over Kakashi’s heart.

--

Deep within the mountain, the volcano sleeps again. Maybe someday another couple of children will stumble into awakening it. Or maybe it will sleep an age, until time has forgotten its name.

Kakashi will visit it every year, and Obito and Rin will accompany him, and they will bow their heads, and pray, that Kakashi’s father may rest, that he may find peace.

The three of them certainly do.

[saimonsoon]

The Good People

“We are the Good People, we do not stand for injustice and we do not stand for madness. The Revolution is an ancient disease of the mind that plagues the lesser peoples. Those who live lives of debauchery in the Four Cities and elsewhere have brought this plague upon themselves. In such a case, they must suffer its cleansing fire.”

For twelve centuries, the Good People had lived and worked upon the Rise. Marked with uneven hills and gullies, the grassy, raised plateau dominated most of southern Rise Province. The land was fertile, allowing for sufficient agriculture. Amidst the small hamlets and towns dotted between its hills, small farms fed the stable populace and exported the rest.

There were no cities on the Rise: the Good People were a simple, hardworking folk with little need for extravagance. They trusted only themselves and took a long time to warm to strangers. The few outsiders who lived amongst the Good had to learn their customs and slowly earn their trust. It often took years.

The Good People revered the castle and accepted only one true leader, the Lady of the Mill who had been in power for five centuries.

All settlements upon the Rise were connected by ancient roads built during the Age of Maw. Every one of these roads wound through its hills and gullies, up to the highest point on the plateau. Perched upon this point was the Mill: an astounding marvel of structural engineering that no modern architect could replicate. Older than even the first Heartland Republic, the vast and ancient castle served as the administrative capitol for the entire province, including the Pipelands to the north.

The Good People revered the castle and accepted only one true leader, the Lady of the Mill who had been in power for five centuries. To them, she was ancient, wise and just. It was she who would travel every couple of decades to Millwall and choose a Mouthpiece to impart the Lady’s wisdom, to continue steering the Good towards the Light of Murak.

History taught that a great, impenetrable wall once surrounded the Mill. Sentry Towers had once stood at regular intervals along that wall, overlooking the land. All of those towers and the wall itself were now gone. The only remains were the crumbling pile of bricks that ran straight through the town of Millwall, with the last remaining Sentry Tower dominating the town centre. It was in this town and in that very tower, several kilometres south of the Mill, that Goodwoman Lubecca Stone kept her office.

Goodwoman Stone had served as the Lady’s Mouthpiece and trusted leader of the Good People for over thirty years. She was the trusted Representative of the Lady and the sole individual who determined which strangers were worthy enough to live amongst the Good.  

As their leader, Goodwoman Stone listened to her people. Like her, they strove to live in the Light of Murak. Like her, the Good People diligently performed their daily duties and congregated weekly in their churches all across the Rise. Goodwoman Stone travelled regularly to as many towns and villages as she could, to walk amongst her people and listen to their concerns, their hopes, their fears.

Concerns in particular had grown in recent times. The Goodwoman had spent many months travelling from one town to the next, listening to the crimes and atrocities that had been committed against younger members of the community. Some, to the Goodwoman’s disgust, were little more than children.

Many believed the culprit a Piper. A depraved, debauched tribesman from the Pipelands. A few Pipers did indeed live amongst them, but it was difficult to believe it could be any one of those. Goodwoman Stone had vetted each and every one of those who had chosen to settle on the Rise.

Over those harrowing months, several witnesses came before the Seven Justices at Millwall Courthouse and presented their evidence. It wasn’t long after that the culprit, a tribesman indeed, was dragged before them. Not long after, the accused was found guilty and sentenced.

                                        *                      *                      *

Early spring on the Rise brought intense warmth in the sun and bone-chilling cold in the shade. Despite the dappling of grey clouds in the sky, beams of light danced upon the surface of Lake Pontage. With rolling hills in the distance and tall willows by the water’s edge, it painted an idyllic picture. During the spring and summer, families would take time away from their duties to enjoy their leisure hours.

“What makes this even more unforgivable is that you committed these atrocities against children.“

Today, however, leisure had been forbidden. Goodwoman Stone had declared a Day of Work. The lakeside would be used only for one purpose: to deliver justice for the many who had been damaged or destroyed by the depraved tribesman, Jiiluu Ksashk.

Several meters from the lakeside was a large barrel, constructed for this occasion. Filled with water, the top was completely sealed off save for a small wooden hole. Out of that hole poked a head: thick black hair tied into a ponytail, a goatee, pointed ears, a hooked nose and light-purple skin.

Seven Justices in their black robes stood in a semi-circle around the barrel. Their blue eyes met the beady-black of the condemned man, expressions betraying nothing of the thoughts that swam behind their faces. The only others present at Lake Pontage were the crows, whose caws echoed chillingly on the wind.

The sound of hoofs indicated the arrival of the Chief Goodwoman. Dressed in her usual black attire, Lubecca Stone approached the scene. The Justices made a parting in their semicircle to let her through, silently observing her as she walked closer towards the condemned. When she stopped, the Goodwoman raised her spider-black eyes to meet those of the accused. Her face imitated the expressionless gaze of the gathered Justices. The prisoner returned the same. The only sound was the occasional caw of a crow.

“Piper Jiiluu Ksashk,” the Goodwoman’s voice rose, “you have been accused of horrific, heinous crimes. Crimes against the Province, the State, the Republic and the Lady. Your wrongdoings have caused untold misery and heartache. Your surviving victims will spend the rest of their lives recovering and healing the wounds you have inflicted upon them.

“What makes this even more unforgivable is that you committed these atrocities against children. You, Piper Ksashk, have therefore been sentenced to death in the time-honoured Good tradition. From this point onwards, you shall spend each hour for a day and a night contemplating the evils you have committed.”

“During that time, your flesh will slowly be consumed by the sodfish until you are dead. We shall continue to live, to work and to pray. It is our hope that as your life wanes, you will see the error of your ways. We pray that you will repent, so that your soul may be brought into the light.”

A small, impish grin formed on the Piper’s face. He licked his dark purple lips with a thin, almost snake-like tongue. His eyes narrowed, face forming into a greedy, cold expression that would have chilled a lesser person to their core. Lubecca Stone was not, however, any kind of lesser person. She was unperturbed and it showed.

“I do not worship your gods, Goodwoman,” the Piper rasped in a whistling accent.

“We have but one god,” Goodwoman Stone reminded the tribesman, “and we do not expect you to pray or to lament to ours. Nor do we ask you to seek its forgiveness. Your crimes were not against our god: they were against the very children you brutalized. Now, your final moments will be between you and your deities.”

The Piper scoffed, “What little you know of us, ignorant Goodwoman! Our nation has never had a god – not one! We do not worship, we do not grovel before stone men and lick their feet, asking for pitiful forgiveness! We are the people of the air, the mountains and the field. We commune and dance with nature, we are one with the insects and the creatures of the shrub…”

A high-pitched, whistling noise filled the air as the Goodwoman switched to the Piper’s language. For the first time, Jiiluu’s expression changed to one of utter shock and disbelief. The Seven Justices stirred, not in surprise but with unease. They listened as Goodwoman Stone quoted, word for word, the core spiritual tenets of the Piper tribes to the condemned prisoner.

Silence hung once more, interspersed with crow calls.

“You and your kind are invaders,” Jiiluu accused, “the Dark Masters came to the Rise and your vile, lily-white ancestors followed suite. When that happened, our nation was already old. Our children ran free and naked among the hills! Before you came with your stone houses and your Book of Laws, our proud nation dominated the north of this pitiful country you call the ‘Heartland’!”

“It was you, your laws and your mechanisms that drove us to seek sanctuary in our ancestral home, amidst the songs of the Peace Pipes. The Pipers have been crushed under your imperialist boot and your gawking countrymen travel with their monstrous trains to gawk at our lands and our tents, to call us savages…”

“That is no excuse for rape or murder,” Goodwoman Stone responded, “you have committed injustices upon the Rise and against the Good People. You are being punished in accordance with the Good interpretation of Unspeakable Law. Your fate, Piper Ksashk, is sealed. Now, only a few hours stand between you and eternity. We do not and will not relish your slow, agonizing death. We will instead praise the day that your soul returns to join the song of the mountains. Today, we rid the world of a great evil and bring maybe a little solace to those who have suffered at your hands. We give you only one gift and that is contemplation through pain.”

A barrage of whistling and hissing sounds exploded from the Piper’s mouth. Goodwoman Stone ignored the obscene Pipsh swearwords as Justice Maune walked up and began to tie the gag.

In truth, Piper Ksashk would feel only minimal pain. Before being dunked into the barrel, a doctor had administered the drug, evensip. The condemned Piper would feel only slight discomfort as the sodfish wrapped their toothless mouths around segments of his flesh and, very slowly, sucked it off the bones.

The punishment would last for hours. Even as the Piper’s blood seeped into the water, the brain would stay alive, conscious. Evensip had that miraculous effect: the condemned’s senses would be on full alert. It was likely that he would descend into madness before long as the drug often served to rapidly deteriorate rational thought. His lungs would probably stay intact for a while as the sodfish feasted upon his juicy outer flesh, so it was likely that his screams would echo throughout the hills for a day and a night.

“May eternal rest be granted unto him,” Goodwoman Stone intoned, before making the Sign of the Ankh. The Piper responded with muffled threats.

“It is done,” the Seven Justices chimed, “Murak carry his soul to the mountains.”

Turning her back on the Piper, Goodwoman Stone walked away as two of the Justices marched towards the barrel. They would stand guard beside the prisoner, chanting passages from the Book of Lamentations until he was dead. Her part in the execution was done.

The Goodwoman’s horse-drawn carriage stood waiting for her. She climbed into it with Justice Maune following in suit. Pale-skinned and fair-haired like most Good People, Maune had lost a lot of weight in recent weeks. This had been on purpose: overindulgence was a sin amongst them and Maune had stopped himself well enough in time.

“I see your routine is working out well, Justice,” Goodwoman Stone said as the whip cracked and the carriage’s wheels set in motion, “I commend you for that.”

“No commendation required, Goodwoman Stone. I seek only to live the Good life.”

“Indeed,” Stone replied, “and suffer the same.”

The carriage plodded slowly down the ancient road back towards Millwall. A day of paperwork in the ancient Sentry Tower stretched before her. It had been nice to get out in the sun and take in some fresh air. Tomorrow, she would go down to the lake for several hours of contemplation. By then, leisurely activities would’ve been resumed.

“Goodwoman Stone,” Maune said, “I must ask about the sodfish. We have not carried out an execution for at least twenty years. Not since you decreed it permissible only for the gravest of sins. What, pray, will be the fate of the sodfish? We surely cannot throw them back into the lake. What if one were to be caught and eaten? Should it be consumed, the individual will commit the sin of cannibalism without know. Their soul would be tarnished… forever.”

“You make a fair point, Justice,” Stone replied, “upon my order, the fish will be taken back to Millwall once the Piper is dead. I have arranged for them to be slaughtered in the Old Way. We will set their carcases alight upon a pyre in the town square, before St. Fatima’s.” The Justice nodded gravely, “I should hope, Goodwoman, that this is the end of all this evil. We cannot fall into the wicked ways of the east.”

Stone looked at him. “To what, pray tell, are you referring, Justice?”

“The… The east,” Justice Maune stuttered, “the newspapers tell of many executions and growing unrest among the populace of the Four Cities… We… We cannot afford an Upflaring…” “Do not listen to stories from the east,” Stone warned him, “and listen not to flights of fancy, however tempting they may be. If the Revolution is indeed upon them, it will never spread this far. It never has and it never will. Not while I remain the Lady’s Mouthpiece.”

“But do you not think that the Good will start to wonder…”

“The Good People will wonder, and more importantly, do, as I say,” Stone cautioned, “they will go no further. No blood will be spilled on the Rise without due cause. Should you doubt that, Justice Maune, then I believe you may be faltering in your faith. In which case, I would sincerely question your office.”

The Justice opened his mouth, closed it again.

“We are the Good People,” Stone reminded him, “we do not stand for injustice and we do not stand for madness. The Revolution is an ancient disease of the mind that plagues the lesser peoples. Those who live lives of debauchery in the Four Cities and elsewhere have brought this plague upon themselves. In that case, they must suffer its cleansing fire. The glory of the Revolution is that it is self-cleansing: it weeds out the weaker minds and brings them to the guillotine. I, however, weed out the weaker minds in a more civilized manner. That is exile.”

She gazed at the silent Maune. The Justice fidgeted to the sound of hoofs clip-clopping against the road.

“Do I make myself clear, Justice?”

“As ice,” he replied.

[gwynbleiddyn]

an evening ritual;

Alexios definitely recalls being hounded by his trainer in the agoge for not looking after his arms and armour well enough. Too dirty. Never polished. Left lying around in any old spot of dirt when Alexios had given up on being a sensible Spartan son. It was a harsh truth for a lazy child to come to terms with, in all honesty, and it wasn’t exactly until Alexios had lost too much drachmae on Kephallonia that he’d decided taking care of his own gear would be slightly more profitable. At least, it would be, compared to having every crook from Sami to the cursed valley run off with drachmae and armour that was meant to be repaired, not stolen.

Over the years since then, Alexios had made it a ritual. At the end of a day, armour needs to be cleaned and inspected. Weapons need to be set aside carefully, but never too far. If his arms and armour are in fighting shape, then so is he - it’s always been that simple. That mantra had worked for a long time, when it was only himself he had to think about, and when camping meant lonely nights with a makeshift shelter and Ikaros to keep watch. Now, though, things are... different.

Not in a bad way, Alexios supposes, sparing a glance around the camp he finds himself in. 

Spartan banners are flung over hastily erected palisades, wooden barriers set outside each open gate - all decorated with armour stripped from reckless Athenians who had wandered too close in the past few days. A grim reminder that war was there to greet them at every turn. In that respect, it’s been difficult to adjust. Alexios is used to keeping himself alive, marking targets down one by one as quick and quiet as he can. Now, he fights in formation when he’s asked to, holds up his shield-brothers with aching arms and bloodied fists, and bears the weight of too many dead Spartans when they fall in front of him. 

It’s heavier when you know their names, Alexios finds. 

But the good part of all this is that Alexios can finally say he belongs somewhere. A Spartan camp out in the field is now a safe harbour for a weary misthios-turned-soldier, and it feels good to have people who know your name as well as they know your deeds. For too long, Eagle-Bearer has plagued Alexios with a false sense of heroism - it’s become detachable, separate from himself and his thoughts - and in that alone, his own name has started to seem insignificant. As though it was never him who completed these tasks in the first place. 

“Ai, Alexios!” 

Looking up, he finds several pairs of eyes on him. Anywhere else, Alexios might have already had his spear at the ready, but here, he just looks at them all and puts a name to each face. Hesiodos, a small, sharp-faced man with a thin smile and ever-dark eyes, seems to be awaiting something. Like a response, perhaps, one that Alexios was meant to give. 

“Hm?” 

“Wine, Alexios! You would agree that a sweeter wine is far more palatable than those musty, dried-up excuses of ‘rich’ wines, yes?”

Alexios just blinks, brow furrowing as he tries to recall some memory of taste and smell. Wine isn’t exactly his speciality, he just drinks it if it’s there. Though, granted, he doesn’t like most of the stuff he does end up drinking - it does its job to get his thoughts pleasantly out of focus, however, and that makes up for the awful taste it leaves behind. 

“Clearly, shitty wine has scoured the last of your tastebuds, Hesiodos.” Alexios throws back with an impish smile, knowing this will spark up a fresh round of debate in a camp that’s already well on its way to rowdy inebriation, despite some more stalwart polemarchs lurking in the command tents. Hesiodos crows his dissent, almost falling off his seat - wine goblet still full, of course - and tries to find another, more agreeable voice to add to his debate. Lykos is standing behind him, mostly to keep him sitting upright at this point. A giant brute of a man, he towers over most, but has the personality of a field mouse. Alexios meets Lykos’ exasperated gaze with a smug grin, knowing full well that the man won’t dare say a word against Hesiodos’ drunken ramblings, and that he’ll stay standing there until morning comes if nobody takes pity on him and takes Hesiodos out of his hands. A small amusement, but it goes a long way.

That is the other good thing. The belonging lends itself easily to camaraderie, particularly when you know your life is in the hands of the men around you. Alexios enjoys that far more than he ever did the lonely nights on Mount Ainos, and even if it comes with the constant ribbing and jibes of friendship, it’s not something Alexios is willing to give up now that he’s found it. In a way, it makes him a better soldier; having a cause that doesn’t just belong to you alone gives you far less room for mistakes. 

With the attention now off him, Alexios turns his mind back to what got him thinking in the first place. His armour sits by his tent, waiting for him to clean and inspect it, like he usually always does - but not tonight. He can see it needs maintaining - blood is caked into the engravings, there’s more than a few scrapes he could polish out, and he needs to restring the breastplate after an arrow snagged the ties over a week ago. 

It’s been over a week since Alexios picked that armour up, not to put it on, but to clean and look after it. Over a week since that blacksmith had handed it to him without a word and turned to making the next set, for the next soldier that would inevitably come along. 

He’d gotten away with a week of traveling and fewer rest stops than usual - enough to account for how much wear his armour is showing already - but now that they’ve set their spears down in Boeotia once again, preparing themselves for another bloody dogfight with the Athenians, Alexios has run out of excuses. 

That memory of the trainer keeps coming back to him every time he even thinks about getting it over with. 

It’s stupid, and childish, and all kinds of irrational, but Alexios can’t escape that strange feeling of unworthiness. 

“I don’t think staring will make your armour any cleaner.” 

Another voice to distract him. Alexios recognizes it instantly this time, however. Thaletas brushes a fleeting hand across the back of Alexios’ neck as he passes, eyeing the armour that Alexios has basically been glaring at for an unreasonable amount of time. 

“I can dream.” Alexios retorts drily, resting his elbows on his knees as his hands drop, fingers tangling and untangling. Thaletas notices, frowning as he catches sight of Alexios, walking past. Alexios just shakes his head, and goes back to staring at his hands instead. 

Moments later, Thaletas is back and sitting at his side, working away on his own armour. Alexios is almost offended, but when he looks up, he finds that his armour is definitely not where it was mere moments ago. His gaze slides down and to the left, finding his own set lined up next to Thaletas’. 

Oh.

Something pulls strangely at his chest, seizing his breath for a moment. Alexios is about to say something, but the words are gone before they even reach his lips, and Thaletas is talking again.

“I hated doing this as a child.” He says idly, setting aside a completed pair of greaves. Alexios just watches intently, the care and attention that Thaletas puts into such a menial task is almost endearing. 

After a beat of silence, Thaletas continues, sparing a brief glance sideways to Alexios. “But your armour is one thing protecting you and the rest of your line. It gets beaten into you, one way or another.” 

Nodding, Alexios exhales sharply. He knows that. That’s not the problem. It’s the armour itself - Spartan, made for him, made for an army. Made for a stubborn child in the agoge, long ago. 

“I drove my trainer mad.” Alexios states simply, as a glimmer of a smile tries to force its way through. “I was stubborn. Headstrong. Never wanted to listen, or take the time to care about things I thought were beneath me.” 

Thaletas doesn’t stop his work, but he’s listening. Alexios can tell, watching the way Thaletas slows down when Alexios reveals something more about a past that too few people know. 

“Learnt my lesson on Kephallonia. But...” Alexios scratches at his forearm nervously, shaking his head, “It was something I should have learnt in Sparta. And this--” he gestures to the pile of armour, “Just reminds me of that trainer, and of how much else he would have taught me if I’d never left.” 

Thaletas slowly comes to a stop, resting Alexios’ half-cleaned breastplate against his knee for a moment. He doesn’t look at Alexios at first - his gaze drifts around the camp at the soldiers he sees dotted around, all in various states of sobriety by now. Alexios looks up and follows his gaze, curious, but he finds nothing of interest and winds up shooting Thaletas a quizzical glance instead. 

“I think it might be the other way around, Alexios.” Thaletas tells him quietly, finally meeting his gaze. “How much would you have never learned?”

Alexios hasn’t thought of it like that before. 

“Trust me. You wouldn’t be here if these men didn’t want you here. There’s a reason they’ve been asking for you to join them on the field all this time.” Thaletas sounds certain, and Alexios finds himself wanting to believe him. 

“I can fight, that’s all they need.” Alexios’ doubts always drive him to argue, even with Thaletas all but staring him down. 

“By the gods...” Thaletas lets out a half-laugh, half-sigh, rubbing at his forehead for a moment, “You are stubborn. That hasn’t changed. But what I’m trying to say is that you inspire. You give the men hope-- you give me hope.” 

Alexios manages a smile at that, and an overwhelming sense of relief washes over him. His shoulders relax, and he finally untangles his fingers, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face as if to brush off the show of self-doubt he’d shared. Thaletas makes it unbelievably easy, even in such a place as this where privacy is long out of reach, Thaletas makes it quiet and bearable when Alexios needs that space. 

A useful skill to have if you want to keep a misthios around, it seems.

“Let me help.” Alexios reaches over and picks up his own breastplate from where it’s been resting against Thaletas’ knee, “At the very least, if I do a terrible job, you can cover it up.” he says to Thaletas with a grin, nudging him with his leg as he sits back. 

“There’s a lot of things I’d do for you, but cleaning your armour regularly is not one of those things.” Thaletas chuckles quietly, and gets back to work on his own armour, letting Alexios lean against him slightly while they drift into companionable silence.

[oracleofthenorth]

Zoro’s Wish

I wrote an angsty Zolu thing at like 4 am.

Warning for mildly graphic/Strip-tease m/m Zolu

I am not a professional writer. I did this for fun. Please no kill.

The sea was relatively calm that night, as Zoro folded his arms across his chest,  allowed his chin to drop, and his eyes to flutter closed. From the crow’s nest, the world seemed larger than life...and it was. The sun had long set beneath the horizon. The crew had long settled in for a good night’s sleep. Zoro had long remained awake and watchful. He couldn’t stand the idea of something happening at night, that may pose a threat to his found family. Especially to his Captain. Luffy meant everything. Luffy was hope, alive and flickering like a flame, inside the soul of that one strange, adorable, boy….

”Idiot” Zoro whispered with a slight smile that he was glad no one was around to see. Except maybe Luffy...he really liked the way Luffy smiled back at him. He loved when it was just the two of them, and wondered if Luffy knew how much those moments meant to him...and just like that, Zoro drifted off to sleep, and into a vivid dream, high above the waves….

Zoro’s dream: Tribute to the King of Pirates

The room was all shades of red. Purple reds, burgundy, orange reds, fire red, true red. Plush with pillows and daybeds, curtains, draperies, canopies, and one large black leather couch in the center, against the back wall. Red veils dangling before it, obscuring Zoro’s view of whomever occupied it, from the threshold of the room where he stood. Beside him stood an oddly shaped man with even more oddly shaped blue hair...Franky? Perhaps...something told him it didn’t really matter who he was. What mattered was who was waiting for him in the room that spread like a wildfire before him. “Your majesty…” bellowed the man beside him in a knowing tone, addressing the mysterious figure behind the veils. “Your guest has arrived.” Zoro wasn’t listening. He lost him at “Your majesty”. The words rang so true in his heart, but who could it be? In that way that dreams are, it was all so surreal. “Thank you, Franky.” cackled a small voice from behind the veil. Small but powerful. Like it’s owner could burst out in excitement, but was deciding to remain measured and knowing. The bouncer excused himself and shut the door behind him, leaving only Zoro and the figure cloaked in mystery. The same small voice addressed Zoro now. “Yo, Zoro…” How did he know my name? But Zoro knew that voice. “Come” it beckoned, and Zoro took a few steps forward, lifting a veil aside to reveal the couch. Upon it sat a small, skinny, boy in a straw hat. Of course! It was Luffy, King of the pirates! And Zoro was his right hand man! And this was like a dream come true! No impish grin spread across Luffy’s face, just a slight, sly, smile that Luffy saved for when he was most pleased. A smile usually saved for Zoro. Zoro began to realize that Luffy often smiled at him like this in waking life, and it left him confused. In the dream-world however, the smile’s indication was clear as bright daylight across the deck of the ship! Luffy’s eyes weren’t wide and round tonight. They were dark, deep, and hidden like a secret under the brim of his infamous hat.

For reasons he didn’t understand, and could not have explained, Zoro fell to his knees before the King. The king he’d helped create. The king he’d believed in all these years. Seeing his greatest wish fulfilled, Luffy on his metaphorical throne, brought tears to the great swordsman’s eyes. Luffy regarded him with concentrated seriousness that he saved for the direst circumstances of the greatest importance. Zoro raised his head to gaze at his King. “Zoro” “L-Luffy…” “What do you want most in the world?” Luffy asked calmly, patiently, in that tricky way he had of asking questions that revealed a huge fountain of wisdom by the time they’d run their course. “This. You as King of pirates is what I have wanted most in the world, and now it’s come true.” Luffy grinned revealing a corner of teeth. “So, now what do you want most in the world?” Zoro for the first time in his life, was ashamed to look at his captain. He didn’t know how to explain why, not even to himself. What did he want? Becoming the greatest swordsman in the world was a journey, not a destination. “What I want…?” Suddenly all he could think of were those beautiful, private moments and smiles between himself and Luffy, and how he wished they’d never end, but did he dare say so? After they’d come this far? Luffy’s smile turned down into a frown. Strange how Luffy was so wise and confident in the dream-world, and Zoro felt vulnerable as a baby bird fallen from the nest. “I wish...I wish...Luffy” Luffy’s smile turned up again. Zoro saw it and the words fell out “...I wish this moment would never end!!! I wish you’d always smile at me like that! I wish I’d always be special to you, because you’re special to me like no one else! Not because you’re my captain, not because you’re my king, because you’re my friend….but...I wish, I wish you were more…” Luffy interrupted Zoro “Show me.” “What?” “Show me what you mean, from over there” Zoro was still a few feet away from Luffy, as he sat on his leather couch shrouded in mystery and honestly to Zoro looking...sexy. Zoro had never really had a word for it, but Luffy looked sexy…

In waking life, Zoro would’ve been confused. He would not have understood what Luffy meant. But this was a dream, and Zoro knew exactly how to show Luffy. “Do you desire me, Zoro?” Luffy asked, candidly as ever. “Y-yes…” Zoro replied, shocked at the simplicity and rapidity of his response. “Then...show me..” Luffy repeated, and sat back to observe, his full attention on Zoro, nothing could tear his eyes away and Zoro realized this. It filled him with courage and joy.

The music turned up at the snap of Luffy’s fingers. Zoro closed his eyes and began swaying to the beat. Dancing came natrually to him, especially in dreams. He began by removing his swords, and placing them gently on the nearest daybed. The beat picked up and he began removing his shirt from across his muscular shoulders, revealing ages worth of scars, won by Luffy’s side. He ran his large hands across each scar, sometimes serious, sometimes smiling slightly. Looking up at Luffy here and there, who was having the same reactions. They were sharing the memories of each scar. Zoro turned his back to Luffy and shifted his pants down ever so slowley, to reveal to tops of his rock hard buttocks. Luffy grinned in spite of himself, and Zoro peeked over his shoulder (pleased with the reaction it gave his Captain.) Zoro dropped to the floor and literally crawled to Luffy, and climbed up until they were nose-to-nose “This is my desire for you, Captain. This is my greatest wish in the world…” He climbed onto Luffy’s lap, and kissed him. “No.” said Luffy simply. Zoro’s heart skipped a beat and teetered on the edge of falling, but he remembered that this was Luffy logic, and a plot twist was just around the corner. God, he knew his boy too well. Luffy pushed Zoro back to his feet. Zoro complied, still a little nervous. Luffy stood up from the couch, turned, pushed Zoro down to where he had just been sitting. “The throne is yours.” He climbed onto Zoro’s lap “....and so am I.” Zoro was stunned! Luffy leaned in, arms around Zoro’s neck, and kissed him deeply, passionately, desirously, and lovingly!! Zoro grabbed Luffy’s hips, tears cascading down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around the lanky frame of his Captain and breathed him in. “Luffy?” “Yes, Zoro?” “Can we stay like this forever?” “Hahahaha! Of course we can!.....Zoro” “Oy, Luffy?” “...this was my wish too…”

“ZORO!!!” Zoro woke with a start “Sanji is making pancakes!” Luffy was right in his face, and it was daylight outside, and Zoro was awake now, and apparently there were pancakes….Zoro smiled up at Luffy, who grinned back as though they were of one mind.

[ask-glados]

A Trip to the Beach

Just a funny little TeslaDOS RP turned into a drabble. XD Written by me ( @ask-glados​ ) and @myinventions​

—————

“So, where ARE we headed, anyway?” GLaDOS asked, her hologram giving a smirk.

Tesla shared with her an unusually impish smirk. “To give you the most memorable night of your life, of course~ there’s a frenzy of high societal parties going on just waiting for us to arrive uninvited!” He laughed. “I jest, of course.”

“Well, if you want to make this night memorable, you're going to have to try pretty hard, because so far, it's been pretty typical,” she teased. 

“Well, there’s a sandy beach not too far by the River Thames that I discovered last time I was here. I found it most tranquil for thinking - it was actually at that spot that I was inspired to create that weekend project which started this whole ordeal to begin with. I thought you might enjoy it.”

“So, you HAVE thought this through after all.”

“Of course, I have. It’s not every day I’m honored with such impeccable company on my side of the time portal.” He really didn’t know how to express how much he appreciated her being here with him in the ‘past’ - or, his ‘present’.

“By the way, did you know that salt water is highly damaging to electronics and machines? It's quite possibly the worst thing you can expose them to, due to its corrosiveness.”

Tesla blinked and stared at GLaDOS for a moment, his eyes widening. Of course. She was made of metal. How had he forgotten such a crucial detail? 

However, she then let out a laugh. “Oh, don't worry. I'll still go. Just make sure you keep my core far away from the water.”

After looking out at the sparkle of city lights along their path, he patted his breast pocket where her core was safely kept and smiled at her hologram. “I’ll make sure of it.”

When they reached the beach, it was dark and completely empty, as expected, lit up just enough by the lights of the city and the glow of the moon. After checking that the coast was clear, GLaDOS turned her hologram off and on, dropping her era-appropriate disguise clothing into a neat pile, re-exposing her holographic white dress and red ascot. She had also removed her hologram’s shoes, leaving her barefoot. 

“Ah, that’s much better,” she said, shaking her head and hair around, stretching her arms out before walking out across the sand, enjoying the feel of it between her toes.

“Efficient,” Tesla remarked at her quick-change, smiling admiringly at her. He meanwhile remained in complete ensemble as he walked closely behind her along the sandy shore. With a long stick he picked up, he gestured to a rocky area near the docks. “It was in that spot the idea struck me - like a bolt of lightning - and where I remained so until dawn visualizing the entire project in my mind.”

She simply smiled at him as she began heading toward the water. She walked in long, confident strides — neither too fast nor too slow.

Tesla looked down, smiling at her core in at his pocket, happily sighing. 

“Who would have imagined. This is where it all started... and now, here you are," he thought aloud, before watching GLaDOS's hologram get closer to the water. "—Say, where are you going?”

Her hologram stopped and turned to smirk at him. Luckily, since her voice still came out of her core, her hologram’s distance wasn’t an issue in regards to hearing her. 

”Forgive me. I was under the impression that humans usually come to the beach to go in the water. Well, except for the boring ones who’d rather laze on the shore like blubber-filled sea cows.”

“Heh~” Inevitably his cheeks were going to start hurting from smiling so much - that, or a premature development of crow's feet around his eyes - not like any of that mattered at all. "Are you implying that I'm a blubber-filled sea cow?" He laughed aloud, walking closer to her. "I would greatly enjoy accompanying you — but I might have to consult your genius, given this," he pointed to her core in his breast pocket, "as well as my lack of appropriate swim attire."

“Just leave me on the shore, genius. I’ll survive. Along with the top layers of your incredibly excessive getup.” She gestured to the fancy suit that he wore.

She was serious. Tesla just stood there awkwardly as his face suddenly grew ruddy. To someone from her time, it was really no big deal. His so-called ‘underwear’ was really just the equivalent of shorts and a T-shirt. But to him, the mere thought of being so underdressed in public — what scandal! 

“But—” And yet, he found himself unable to find any words to object. “...Alright,” he conceded after a pause. 

Heading back to where the pile of her disguise was, he gave her core a serious look, and turned his back to her hologram, placing his jacket — and her core — in a safe place. “Don't look.”

She chuckled at his silliness, but complied with his request and looked away as he ‘changed.’

Once completed — and, face ruddier than ever — he returned to her hologram, taking her hologram's hand, and trying to laugh off his embarrassment. “Well?”

She gave a fake gasp, putting a hand to her mouth. "A different layer of clothing! Oh, the horror!" She gave a laugh. 

Tesla's face momentarily went redder, before joining her laughter at just how absurd it all was.

“In case you’re worried, though, my sensors will detect anyone long before they approach.”

Squeezing her hand tighter, he tapped her nose with his other index finger “I certainly hope so. Worst case, we'll make history on tomorrow's front page of the gossip column being called out as lunatics taking a night swim in the River Thames.”

She chuckled. “Well, come on, then,” she said, pulling him along as she stepped toward the oncoming waves, the sea foam brushing her toes.

He followed close behind, his smile unwavering. The mix of sand and splash of waves under his feet was splendid. And her — right here. 

Without warning, he suddenly swept her up princess-style and rushed straight into the oncoming wave. She yelped in delight and laughed as she was pulled under the splashing wave with him, her voice undeterred by the water or any need for breath. 

When they resurfaced, Tesla shook his head, blowing his wet hair from his face, though some of it still stuck to his forehead. Looking down at her in his arms, he blinked. Water dripped off of her, but her hair and dress still flapped in the wind, dry as ever. “How peculiar. Water seems to impenetrably slide off of you!” 

“Hard light doesn't retain water, Mr. Tesla," she said, smirking at him. "I thought that someone as intelligent as yourself would have deduced such a simple science fact.”

“Deduction is one thing, empirical observation is another,” he replied with a smirk, setting her back on her feet.

GLaDOS smiled, then suddenly her eyes went wide in panic. ”AHH! BIRD! BIRD! OH GOD, IT'S GOT ME! KILL IT! KILL IT!!!” She pointed frantically toward the shore where a seagull could be seen with GLaDOS's core in its beak, chain still attached, dragging Tesla's vest behind it like an anchor as the gull tried to fly away with her. 

“Unhand her, you fiend!” Tesla shouted, running on the beach after the bird — that was now clearly seeing this as some sort of game.

“KILL IT! KILL IT!” she continued to yell. 

As he tried to corner it, Tesla glanced back at GLaDOS' hologram—just one holographic jolt over here and it would be over in an instant. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like that was going to happen. She was frozen—paralyzed by fear. 

Taking a heavy breath, he fixated his gaze on the bird. “I'LL SAVE YOU!” he declared valiantly, increasing his speed and catching up to the bird in its circuitous pattern. And then, he found his opportunity as the gull was making curve along its circumference. With careful calculation, gallantly, he intercepted the bird's path, leaping for the creature itself, rather than the vest—for if he aimed simply for his vest, he risked the chain snapping. He managed to gently tackle the bird to the ground, crashing into the sand as the bird squirmed and squawked in his grasp. 

“GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME!” her core shrieked in his ear, still being held in the bird's mouth. Apparently, the bird had a very tight grip on her.

Between GLaDOS' shrieks and the seagull's caws, he winced at the loud noise in his ear. “Steady now, steady!” It wasn't certain just who Tesla was exactly speaking to as he wrestled with the bird. His arm wrapped around its belly and his hand trying to pry her core from its beak. He coughed as both sand and feathers were swatted in his face, until he finally was able to pin the bird down under his weight.

“Easy there, little thing.” Ever so gentle, making sure the fragility of both the bird and the core were safe—and even with the gull putting up a stubborn fight, surprisingly, he maintained a level of calm in such a tumultuous moment. “Let her go—Ow! Don't bite me! Just let it go easy—No! I know it's shiny... and you like shiny things—Stop!—Stop trying to swallow it! You'll suffocate yourself, you bird brain! Let... her... go!”

Finally, after much struggling, her core finally came just loose enough for him to slip her out of the bird’s grasp.

“About time!” Without wasting another moment, Tesla seized the opportunity to free GLaDOS’ core from its beak. Her core safe in the tight grip of his hand, he lifted his weight off the seagull, and it scrambled out from under him and flew away - most likely squawking outraged expletives at him. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tesla rolled over on the sand onto his back, groaning to catch his breath. He had a few very minor scratches around his arms from the gull’s talons and pecks, but it was hardly anything even noticeable. He tilted his head in her core’s direction. “Well, that was certainly eventful. How are you holding up?”

Her core was vibrating erratically in his hand, trembling. ”Eugh. Disgusting thing. Pure evil.” She let out a sigh of relief.  ”Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.” Looking between her and the night’s sky, he took another breath, softly hushing her. His hand’s grip loosened and tightened around her core, trying to comfort her. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

She gave another shaky sigh of relief at his touch. She felt gross—her core all covered in wet sand and gull saliva. Out in the distance, her hologram vanished as she deactivated it temporarily.

“Come here.” Pulling her core onto his chest—right above his pacing heart, he nestled her close... safe. He equally felt gross. Who knew what diseases that fowl carried. And he had sand stuck all over his wet form, given he had run right into the sand straight from the water. His fingers traced the rim of her core—like a hug, but not covering her optic. "We'll get you all cleaned up in a little bit. Just... look... up." He gestured with his other hand to the canopy of bright stars above them.

She hummed in contentment at his embrace as she gazed up at the stars. A split second glance was all it took for her to match up the star patterns with the star charts in her database, instantly identifying all the visible constellations and astral bodies. Her hologram suddenly appeared next to him, her head laid against his chest.

Stars twinkled above them like powdered sugar on a dessert. Tesla recognized a few constellations—they were on the same hemisphere as his hometown and New York after all—and soon grew lost in thought gazing at the vast expanse of it. "Oh! Why, hello again~" Tesla smiled warmly at her hologram's reappearance. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her in tighter to keep her cuddled close. "Aren't you a little Cuddle Core~?"

She chuckled, turning toward him and giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Ha~ Thank you~" He blushed, giving a soft chuckle as well. Such public displays of affection feeling almost so... foreign to him. Or was his sensitivity simply due to the fact that their care and endearing perception of each other was mutual? Regardless... he greatly enjoyed it—far more than he cared to admit. 

She leaned on his chest with folded arms, propping her head up, gazing at him as her core continued gazing up at the stars. ”I can identify every one of those astral bodies and constellations, you know.”

Tesla tilted his head in her hologram's direction, admiring the details of her face, before gesturing his look back to the sky, "Is that so~?" He played dumb. Of course she knew, but it was still fun to put it to the test.  "Then... what is...” He hummed aloud indecisively "That one, that's directly above us?"

"Vega. One of the brightest stars in the night sky. Part of the constellation Lyra, the Lyre. Vega also forms one corner of the Summer Triangle, which is made up of itself, Altair, and Cygnus," she recited, continuing to gaze at him, her head casually propped up on her arms. "It was also the first star—other than the Sun—to be photographed, in 1850."

"Yes... Alpha Lyrae, as it’s also designated..." Tesla pulled out his handkerchief and began cleaning the gull saliva off her core. “And what about... that one, close to the horizon?” 

Honestly, he wouldn’t mind staying here forever, with her, joking around, talking science, doing crazy things he’d never have done otherwise. It was nice. He’d only known her a little over a year now, but already, he was beginning to find it difficult to imagine his life without her. 

GLaDOS couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. Even the thrill of testing seemed to pale in comparison. She’d always hated humans and been ashamed of her own humanity. Yet, being with him made her feel so good—better than testing ever had, and for the first time since her activation, she felt truly loved and appreciated. Like somebody actually wanted her around. It made her think that perhaps, maybe humanity wasn't so bad after all.

[night-filled-mountain]

I think I mentioned earlier that I’ve been working on writing a...thing (not really a fic, more of a reflection?) inspired by events in Hupperdook and especially in episode 24, “The Hour of Honor.” And I just went back and read the opening scene and started bawling (not because my writing is Beautiful and Devastating, but because of recent events :-P). Highly unsure if I’ll ever bother finishing the whole thing now, but I thought I’d post just this little opening fragment, because, uh...I accidentally ruined myself and would like to pay it forward?

So...

IT DIDN’T START WITH HUPPERDOOK

It didn't start with Hupperdook.

Caleb realized this as he was moodily stringing silver thread around the border of the shuttered smithy, murmuring his alarm spell to protect four gnomish urchins who had robbed them of nearly all their gold just the other night.

Four gnomish urchins and Kiri, he reminded himself, his thoughts lingering briefly on the absurd crow-child they seemed to have collectively adopted...but it didn't start with Kiri, either.

It started in Trostenwald. It started with Mollymauk.

It was Molly, of course, who had handed out flyers for the carnival that brought them all together—but that was not the incident Caleb had in mind. He'd gone to that carnival for a lark...or rather, because he'd figured Nott deserved a lark, after all those long, hard treks through dark woods and down dusty back roads, avoiding anyone who might recognize either of them for the monsters they were. She'd saved his life, for gods' sake, that first day in Trostenwald. He had to do something to repay her.

But that wasn't the choice that had set him on the road he was currently walking with the Mighty Nein. Nor was he thinking of the choice to fight the undead horrors unleashed on the carnival. That was about survival, plain and simple, and it was only the lucky possession of certain skills and weapons that had determined who would engage in that battle: a ragged wizard and his goblin companion, a courteous half-orc, an impish blue tiefling, a cynical young monk, an imposing bouncer...and an ostentatious fortune-teller who had proceeded, inadvertently, to flip Caleb's world upside-down.

Because it was Molly who was arrested in the battle's aftermath. Molly and the rest of the carnies, but the others didn't matter, because Molly was the catalyst. He had fought by their side, and when the Crown's Guard put him in chains, something broke inside Caleb. Something turned, subtly, like the needle of a compass, pointing him in a new and uncharted direction, away from the path of least resistance that he had walked for so many years.

"I can vouch for this one, the colorful one."

What had possessed him to say it? What had possessed Caleb Widogast—murderer, madman, fugitive—Caleb of the hooded cloak and downcast eyes, whose only friend wore a doll's face to hide her goblin features—to challenge the authorities who could snap their fingers and send him back to jail, back to the asylum...or worse?

It wasn't fair. A laughable complaint, when Caleb looked back on his own life, but that was what had gone through his mind that night, and it was no use denying it now. He'd looked at Molly's gaudily adorned devil-horns, his flamboyant robes and forked tail, his scarred throat and sarcastic smile, and he had known: It didn't matter how many zombies Mollymauk Tealeaf had cut down. It wouldn't matter if he saved a hundred children from a burning orphanage or helped old ladies cross the street. Trouble had come to Trostenwald, and Molly would be blamed for it, because one look at him said he didn't belong—not there or anywhere.

If Molly hadn't been on hand, a ragged wizard and a little masked goblin might have served the Guard's purposes just as well.

So Caleb had protested, for all the good it had done. And when they'd dragged Molly and his colleagues away, when Fjord and Jester had gone with them to testify, Caleb and Nott had followed.

Oh, at a distance, to be sure. They'd given no testimony of their own, but they had followed. They hadn't even set foot inside the courthouse, but Caleb had sent Frumpkin in, darting down the hall to find out what became of their comrade-in-arms. Beau and Yasha were roped in by their own arrests, but Caleb had followed willingly, when the words of defense he had so rashly offered fell on deaf ears.

There was no money in it, no incentive of knowledge or power. Only a fellow outcast at the mercy of the Empire. Only a long-dead spark, unexpectedly re-kindled in Caleb's heart. A foolish, dangerous urge toward...justice.

Justice.

Caleb had seen it twisted, perverted, beyond all recognition...in his own heart, in the heart of the girl he loved. That spark should have gone cold in him years ago. That compass needle should have been immovable, guiding him solely toward self-preservation. Yet still, he'd spoken to the Crown's Guard. He'd stood outside the courthouse. He'd held Nott's hand and waited for Jester and Fjord to work their magic, to make justice pure again.

"Thank you," Molly had said after they'd engineered his release (and Beau's and Yasha's for good measure). "I don't owe any of you anything...but thank you."

It didn't start with Hupperdook, but it was only in Hupperdook that Caleb had begun to make sense of that moment. To wonder whether it might be true that Molly owed them nothing—whether it might, in fact, be the other way around.

[thinktosee]

David Cornelius Singh - 6th Year - Omen

Flowers and Fruits arranged by Meletcrochet

                                  Omen

                                   I

Ever since the clock struck 20:00

And the depraved

                                                                           winds

Of our bygone years flew by,

I have heard cars cough their mucous

Like Gerontion from another martini,

                                                                            extra dry.

 The crows of the Victorian age, shrieking through the night,

Have died and spread their bitter omen

Like jam, across the ground.

Though the tarnished orthodoxies

Crumpled and remain unfounded

                                                                             (In this here 20:00)

So too have our sparrow eyes on death.

(I’d seen them since 19:14)

                                      II

The abused parades have returned, marching

To the rhythm of another

                                                                              pulpit’s term.

A fool to believe the heaving and bleeding

Of cacti in cactus land,

Or the frenzied fevers of those in jungles

Or sands, beside frost fern fingers

Could ever clear this reverie.

 “Verily, verily…”

                                                                              so they say

Whether in the dimming lights of the US

Or the brimming lanterns of Orient bays

“I say unto thee,”

The bludgeoning soils of India

Or the hoarse blares of Syria,

“Except a man born of water and spirit…”

                                                                              (Since 00:00)

“He cannot enter into the kingdom of God.”

And where God cannot be found

       As we struggle against the clamoring rocks:

“So it goes…”

                                                                              they say.

                                           III

Dearest lover, your impish face still burnt into my rubber,

Your palatial Summerhouses

                                                                              (Though not yet crumbled)

Cannot house all the ashen bones you’ve martyred.

 We are stuck in a bubble the shape of a

                               Summer farm

---Hear; hear every human’s cry---

                                                                              (my freedom’s worth more

                                                                                Than your averting eyes)

And when it crumbles and tumbles

                   So too will you

                                                                              (Is 20:16 another 18:65?)

                          As I.

 - by David Cornelius Singh, 2016

David (1997-2016) @ Conrad Hotel, Singapore, 2014