#to shoot it with his little rubber bow

[shogunish]

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.

synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao

wc. 1.3k

note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

the inverted spear of heaven was no more.

the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.

it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.

however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.

no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.

always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.

if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.

satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.

you couldn't possibly blame him.

after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.

the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.

among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.

it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.

almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.

“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.

the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.

the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.

just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?

satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.

“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.

satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”

you wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”

in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.

“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”

“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.

“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”

“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.

to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.

“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.

satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.

quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.

“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.

“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.

ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.

“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.

“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon

[queenimmadolla]

I imagine eddie would have a little family time kid friendly valentines with the reader on one day and an adults only, ship the kids off somewhere valentines another day

What gifts or things do you think would happen on that day

Id imagine reader would wake up eddie by dressing the kids up as cherubs and attacking him with rubber sucker arrows to shoot at him

🦊

Family friendly Valentine’s Day is in the morning, After Hours (bow chicka bow wow) Valentine’s Day is from the evening and all through the night 😏 while the kids are sleeping over with grandpa Wayne and Maude.

I like the way you think and that’s very cute, reader buying the kids pairs of wings to wear and those annoying ass toy Cupid bow and arrows and then releases them into the bedroom to assault Eddie. It makes for a really good home movie and pictures for the family album.

Eddie OF COURSE was prepared and had to hide all of the gifts he got in the van because not a single person in the house, including reader, can be trusted not to go snooping. Eddie gets the girls and Wayne (his little Ferdinand 🥺) flowers, called into a floral shop weeks in advance to place the order and while reader absolutely loves her roses, seeing penny and wayne’s reaction to getting them is like the best thing in the world. They get all shy and happy about having received something so special, and their bouqets are significantly smaller than reader’s but it doesn’t matter; Wayne’s got his nose in his daisies, sniffing away for the rest of the day, and Penny lets reader help make hers into a flower crown, so she can wear it the entire day. They also gorge themselves on chocolate and candy, which reader isn’t happy about but Eddie couldn’t not buy some for them! Besides, the inevitable sugar high will be big Wayne’s problem.

Penny and Wayne will have made homemade Valentine’s cards that say something along the lines of “congraz” (Wayne, still says ‘happy birthday’ for most holiday greetings and gets confused with them all so it’s a congratulations from him this time). And Penny’s are just amusing (‘Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy! I gots no monies so this is what you get, i love you ps get me flowers and member i dont like white choclet’ and ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, mommy! You are my valentine now, not daddys but you can kiss daddy on the lips, but i saw hims eat some onions one time and they are stinky good luck”)

BUT, Eddie has plans for him and Reader, so the kids are pawned off to Wayne and Maude, reader is whisked away to a romantic dinner and then brought home for some very much needed alone time. They share a couple of joints on the porch, he gives her a foot massage because her feet ache a little from the heels she wore to dinner, they talk about their life; where they are in it, what they thought they’d be doing by then and how happy they are regardless, then they move things into the bedroom. Put those cuffs, Eddie now has to hide, to good use. Spend the rest of the night fucking like rabbits well into early morning, nearly depleting the box of condoms in the night stand. In between rounds, Eddie and reader finish off the leftovers from their dinner in bed when the munchies kick in, sharing a bottle of water, lounging around naked, talking about everything under the sun—weed induced peculiar thoughts, of course—and enjoying each other’s company. It’s reminiscent of the early days of their relationship, before the jobs, before the kids, before any of the responsibilities, when they were just teenagers.

Come morning light, you’ll have to go get your kids and slip back into the roles of mom and dad, which the two of you are more than happy to do, but it’s also nice to play a little pretend for the night.

Happy belated Valentine’s Day! 🩷

(P.s. part of the Pennyverse for any new readers ♡)

[snakeeeater]

hey man, nice shot

[dante sparda x gn werewolf!reader] -> prologue

PLEASE READ:

★ This is DMC5 Dante!!

★ This is borderline crack right now but will develop a bit more bear with me fellas

★ That’s all! Enjoy this wacky woohoo garbage

So, you’re fucked.

That’s what you’re thinking when the uglyass pyrobat you’re stalking breaks through the roof of a warehouse on Seventh. The building’s got these hellish glowing red lights pulsating from the cracks forming in its dilapidated state, and suddenly your M1911s and dearly beloved 14 Randall don’t feel sufficient.

You’re thankful for the rain and overcast sky tonight, because it masks your footsteps and softens your shadow’s mark against the ground as you slowly approach the place. The hood of your sweatshirt is soaked through— you thought about putting on your windbreaker earlier to stay dry and warm, but the plastic-y sounds it made when you moved would certainly gain unwanted attention from the demon you were stalking.

You shift one of the straps of your holsters before crouching by the window. Your knees crack. You press your back to the wall for a moment. 

Okay.

Now that you’re this close you can tell that there’s definitely some sort of demonic ritual going on inside from what you hear— voices that sound like sandpaper speak in an overlapping chatter. You strain your ears. There’s the sound of magic sparking and the sound of something… squishy? It sounds like someone being sliced in a horror movie.

You shudder at the implications of that sound, but keep your mouth shut.

When hearing doesn’t yield any more ideas, you turn on your heels. The rubber soles of your combat boots grind the gravel under your feet a little too loudly and you freeze. A fearful eye of yours shoots up to see if the demons heard anything.

A second passes.

Another.

You seem to be safe… for now.

You decide against sticking your head over the windowsill and opt to put an eye to one of the holes in the walls. You squint through the hazy red filling the room.

And your blood runs ice cold.

A cross levitates in the center of the empty warehouse and a naked woman hangs upside down from it, spinning slowly. She’s been brutally ripped open and you’re sure all her blood was used in making the markings on the floor that you’re failing to interpret. Her— oh god, you want to vomit— her organs are organized in messy piles in what you assume are the cardinal directions.

In a fleeting attempt to tear your eyes away from that disgusting scene, you decide take in the demons. 

You see three bowing Hell Caina, a triad of pyrobats circling the ceiling, the shadows of three Death Scissors, three massive Proto Angelo heading Scudo Angelo units of three, and at the center of it all, three goddamn Lusachia which were doing all the raspy chanting you hear.

You turn around, pressing your back to the wall. 

The number three seems to be important to this ritual. You’d have to tell Morrison.

“Shit.” You press the heels of your palms to your eye sockets.

You almost laugh.

If you got back to Morrison from here.

Sure, you weren’t human anymore. Sure, you were legally dead, so it wouldn’t really matter if you were crushed like a grape. And sure, you survived a freak werewolf attack.

But after dying, being buried, transforming during the new moon cycle, and crawling out of the ground, you still weren’t able to bust out the monster hiding underneath your skin at will.

You massaged the scarring bite wounds that had been left behind on your left shoulder. They was no longer tender, but they still looked angry as hell.

“Maybe a life-or-death situation will bring it out.” You whisper so softly you can’t hear it yourself. It worked for most fictional characters, anyway. You’re left with virtually no choice.

You position yourself at the window. 

Feeling like a stereotypical “bad boy” in a straight-to-DVD teen movie sneaking into his girlfriend’s room at night, you enter the warehouse slowly through the window. You’re not quite sure how the quiet rustling goes ignored. Plot armor, maybe.

You crouch in the shadows a stack of crates cast upon the floor and aim down the front sight of your gun, like Morrison taught you. You remember some wise words from… well, every movie you’ve ever seen featuring a person learning how to use a gun: aim where they’re headed, not where they are.

You take in a shaky breath and

BANG!

You’ve fired a shot at a pyrobat. By a miracle, you hit it and it spirals downward gracelessly, whacking itself on a Scudo Angelo’s head and twitching to death. 

The entire hellish garrison turns to face you. If this were a Marvel movie, you’d make a quippy one-liner and kick ass.

In your current situation, however, a Hell Caina shrieks at you and slices a gaping hole in your body with its scythe. You blinked, and it was tearing into your flesh like a rabid dog to a raw turkey on Thanksgiving.

Through the pity-training Morrison put you through, the two of you found out that you can tank hits because of your werewolfish condition.

But it didn’t mean you liked to do it.

“Ow.” Is your response to the Hell Caina. It’s not even a shout, it’s more of a lame, throwaway comment. Some may even smell the stench of predetermined defeat radiating off of your body.

Since you’re close enough to shoot without missing, you point your pistol at its face and use your free hand to press against your wound. When you pull the trigger, it squeals loudly and melts away.

“Too bad I’m not like the other hunters.” You mumble. The tank role in video games was pretty boring. All they did was take damage so their cooler DPS-skilled teammates could do the actual killing. And then you died if you had nobody else with you.

It fits with your general luck.

You shoot a few bullets into the air and miss every shot. You shoot a Proto Angelo. The bullet ricochets off its shield, and you almost start sobbing.

You’re stupid for doing this. You’re no hunter. You’re too old to pick it up efficiently, according to everyone else you’ve talked to about jobs. You’re probably going to die somehow— maybe these demons will overpower your uncanny healing or just send you to Hell.

“This was supposed to be easy.” You laugh because if you’re not laughing, you’d be crying.

Your guns click with the telltale sign that they’re empty now.

“Great.” You growl. You hadn’t counted on wasting so many bullets in such a short amount of time— call it wishful thinking, call it ignorance, call it a total mistake.

A pyrobat spews fire in your direction, which you somersault to the side to avoid. At least you still had that ability.

You sigh as it obviously charges up another shot of fire to spit at you. “I wish I did Krav Maga when I was a kid. Then I’d rip and tear you guys apart.”

The pyrobat is unamused by your reference to Doom, the pyrobat spits fire again. You roll out of the way again. “Or maybe I should’ve been more like a stereotypical American and started learning how to shoot young.”

You’re talking too much for someone about to die. Your head is too light for someone who wants to run away.

The revving sounds of a motorcycle round up by the entrance of the warehouse.

“And that’s probably the police.” you sigh. This was turning out to be a whole mess. Now, you’d have horrible things happen to you and civilians would also be involved.

The doors to the warehouse bust open with a loud BANG. A man with hair the color of undyed silk walks in like he owns the place and every building in a five mile radius. In his hands he carries twin pistols that look like a similar model to yours. And on his back, he carries a sword like a badass.

You immediately envy this man’s swagger. He’s clearly another one of those “I’ve been doing this since I was ten” hunters, here to clean up a mess you couldn’t even get out of unscathed.

The man clicks his tongue at the sight of the mutilated woman. “That’s unfortunate. I guess that means… it’s time to groove!” 

And the man grooves.

With a dramatic twirl of his twin pistols the man transforms into a force of nature so powerful, you swear all over that he could secretly be a demon king down in Hell. His mission? To come up here to crush the dreams and this power-boosting ritual of demon king wannabes.

Or something. Your mind gets a little carried away.

But he really is a whirlwind of carnage, seeming as though he is fused to his sword and ripping through demons like there was no tomorrow.

Correction: there is no tomorrow. Now for these pathetic pieces of Hell scum. He even laughs at one point after vanquishing all of the Death Scissors you’ve been narrowly avoiding. He drives his sword into the helmet of a Proto Angelo and it shatters with the force. He shoots a barrage of bullets into the Lusachia and it they fall dead before any even had the chance to teleport to safety.

And when he tap danced on the body of his final victim while humming a jovial tune, your jaw actually dropped.

He shoots you a look after the spectacle. “You one of them?”

The guy wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

“Uh…” you look down at your body. Nothing about you screams demon. “No. I’m human.”

The man shakes his head, like he knows you’re lying but doesn’t care enough to let you know that he knows. “Call the cops on this place after you leave, alright sweetheart? Wouldn’t want that poor lady to become another face on a milk carton.”

“Yeah.” You nod. He called me sweetheart. You think dumbly.

It’s— made evident by your immediate thoughts— been ages since you’ve been flirted with, let alone talked to someone who wasn’t Morrison.

The man turns and begins walking away. Before his silhouette disappears into the night, he raises a hand. “Ciao.”

You spot the guy with hair as white as snow again at a crosswalk while walking home a couple nights later.

It goes like this:

You were rightfully restless after your warehouse fail. Your pay from Morrison was still in full, so you had enough to splurge a little on the finer things in life, like restocking the dwindling supply of Budweisers you liked to keep handy in your fridge.

You make your way down to the closest 7-11, which happens to be a five minute walk away from your shitty new apartment. 

This area was the type you’d avoid in your old life— sketchy hoodlums loitering in alleyways, the telltale twitches of drug addicts walking by, and the accusing shouts of petty thugs getting into murderous fisticuffs. 

You are by no means a pearl-clutching socialite with a plush and stuffed trust fund, but living here as someone who didn’t have the best means of defending themselves… well, it wasn’t a good idea. The people here weren’t significantly more dangerous, but they were a hell of a lot more jumpy than other people you’d pass on the street.

However, after being bit by one of those mangy dogs of the night, you weren’t so scared of meeting the next Ted Bundy while hunting demons.

(Okay. Attempting to hunt demons.)

As Jason Dean in the cult classic movie Heathers once stated, 7-11 is consistent across all American locations and you’re inclined to agree.

Every chain location you’ve been to has looked like a front for a meth lab. Every time you push a 7-11 door open, it feels like the introductory gas station scene in the Resident Evil 2 Remake is being superimposed over your reality.

You avoid a shirtless guy who won’t stop coughing onto the chip rack and make your way to the refrigerated drinks section for your Budweiser. You grab a box of fifteen cans for about twenty dollars and make your way to the front. You flash your impeccably-crafted fake driver’s license from Morrison to the underpaid cashier who doesn’t bat an eye at its legitimacy as you slide thirty dollars over the counter. 

You almost tell her: “Keep the change, kid,” but you’re more broke than she is, so you grab the coins she’s pulled from the register.

You step outside the store and walk away from the encampment of cigarette smokers loitering by the entrance so you can place the box on the floor. You wiggle a beer can free, planning on popping it open when you get closer to home and chugging it.

You reach your first crosswalk shortly after this. 

This is where you meet the guy with hair like Danny Phantom again. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him notice you, do a little double take, look ahead again, and then get closer.

“This is probably gonna sound real cheesy,” is his opening line, complete with a suave pause. “But you look familiar.”

“Hi,” You reply, feeling your face start to flush a little at the sight of a good-looking dude. Jesus Christ. You were in need of some normal human interactions. “We were in that warehouse on Seventh a couple of days ago.”

“Ah,” the man nodded. “The one where that poor woman was kinda… turned into spaghetti.”

You nod. “That’s the one.”

“Fancy seeing your face again.” He has a flippant lilt to his voice, which makes you want to bury your face into a pillow and start giggling. Thank god it was dark out and he couldn’t see how you were awkwardly biting your bottom lip and thank god both your hands were occupied.

“So, uh… here.” You say in a genius reply, holding out the sweating can of beer meant for yourself.

The guy looks at it in your hand. “Hunh? What for?”

“Well, you, uh, helped me out with that warehouse situation so I figured…” you shrug, the inside of the can sloshing slightly with the motion. “Y’know, it’s certainly the least I could repay you with.”

“Well, thanks,” He reaches for the can and your fingers brush. He shoots you a crooked smile. “I’d love to stick around but I really gotta bounce. I’ll see you around?”

“See you.” You try to echo his coolness with your words, but it feels artificial.

This marks the moment where white hair guy crosses the street away from where you’re going so you march onward, not bothering to look back at him and thinking quite hard about it.

But when you get home, crack open a beer, and begin to watch T.V through your neighbor’s window across the street, you realize you hadn’t asked his name.

[next]

masterlist

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

*me, who has successfully made a tiny wood and rubber band crossbow that shoots toothpicks*

Moon

T a k e t h. T h y. N e w. W e a p o n

A new sword, AND a bow & arrow? You guys are fueling his chaotic side a little too much.

Also gonna make Sun jealous even though he doesn't know how to use such weapons

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

Trick! Jason/Roy, Pumpkin please and thank you =)

I laughed out loud like ten times while writing this, so I hope you get as much amusement out of it as I did.

Read on below, or on AO3

It's The Great Pumpkin, Jason Todd

“I thought Ivy was playing nice lately? She and Harley were settling down and raising carnivorous roses together or something?” 

“She has been. That’s why we’re investigating. Dickie Bird says that Ivy is insisting she’s not involved with this. Gave proper alibis and everything.” 

Jason hunkered down next to the fence and made a cup with his hands to boost Roy up to the top. 

“Holy shit,” Roy hissed when he got a look over. 

“Feel free to pull yourself the rest of the way up. You know, any time now. Your balls are basically on my forehead right now.” 

Reaching down, Roy swatted around until he hit the top of Jason’s head. “You’ve gotta see this.” 

“I can’t see anything. Because, and I believe I mentioned this already, your balls are sitting on my fucking forehead.” 

When Roy made no effort to climb the rest of the way on his own or to shift his crotch away from his partner’s face, Jason growled deep in his throat and stood up, forcing Roy to the top of the fence in one quick motion. 

His idiot redhead flailed and squawked in surprise and tumbled headfirst over the fence, landing on the other side with a wet squelch. 

Jason had been raised better than to laugh. Too hard. 

He only had about three seconds total to enjoy himself before Roy let out a scream. 

“Arsenal!” Using little more than his fingernails and the rubber toes of his tactical boots, Jason scrambled up the wooden fence. He landed in a crouch, already drawing his guns to take aim at-

“Ohhh, this is gonna suuuuck.” 

Ambling slowly across the pumpkin patch was a Jack o’Lantern. 

An enormous one. 

At least the size of an SUV, and getting bigger as the pumpkins around it withered on the vine as it passed. 

And it was dragging Roy in its wake, the man tangled up in vines that pinned his arms to his side and were snaking into his mouth to keep him quiet. Still, he struggled and bit and fought to reach one of his arrows or his gun. His bow snagged on a dried pumpkin and pulled free. 

The mud in the patch slurped at Jason’s boots, slowing him to little more than a jog. Unable to reach his partner, he fired at the monster. “Hey, Jackass!” 

His bullets only made wet, meager thuds when they hit the gargantuan gourd and were absorbed into it, but it was at least enough to get its attention. 

It bellowed noiselessly, pulp and seeds spewing out of the jagged mouth and raining down around the patch. One of its trailing vines slithered across the mud to wrap around Jason’s ankle and yanked him off balance. He was dragged forward and as he scrambled for purchase to pull away, his fingers brushed something smooth and solid. 

Jason clutched at Roy’s bow and twisted around onto his back. His jacket was hiked up and dead vines jabbed and scraped at his back. “Boom arrow!” he shouted to Roy who had pried his quiver free and was trying to stab at his bounds with one of his classic arrows. 

Roy understood immediately, but he knew they would only have one chance at this. The vines he had bitten through were already regrowing and they were winding around his throat. There were spots in his vision from his air being cut off completely. He strained to get his fingers into the quiver, sorting through them by touch alone to find the arrow he needed. 

He pulled it out and sent it end over end at Jason just as he passed him. 

Not for the first time, he wondered if he had been a good enough teacher, but he couldn’t do anything but trust Jason when he nocked the arrow and took aim. Shooting from the ground was hard enough. Doing it while being hauled across a cursed pumpkin patch with mutant vines trying to pull his limbs off would be next to impossible. 

The arrow loosed and buried to the fletching in the pumpkin. 

For an agonising moment, nothing happened. 

Then the explosive detonated. Briefly, the pumpkin glowed from within, light shining out through its mouth and eyes, casting a shine over the field. 

Until it burst apart, chunks flying out in a near perfect circle and falling to the ground. Spattering the two men with orange sludge. 

The vines holding them captive went limp and they were able to scramble free. Jason crawled to Roy’s side and flopped over next to him. 

Between pants for air, Roy spoke.“Next Halloween, we’re just taking Lian trick-or-treating, and staying in to watch movies.” 

[shih-coulda-had-it]

totally reasonable development to the American Dream plan, don't even sweat it

(and the 24+ sentences i owe to the pollers)

Toshinori bounces on his heels, feeling lighter than air with the anticipation of tonight’s activities buzzing along his nerves. He’s dressed in a dark hooded sweatshirt, denim jeans, and the sneakers Gran Torino had bought specifically for their high-quality rubber soles.

And speaking of, Gran Torino should be up on the roofs somewhere…

The front door to the Midoriya apartment opens, and Izuku slips out after a hasty farewell to his mother, which is paired with a lackluster promise to stay safe. Toshinori manages a single jaunty wave before Izuku shuts it, and then his attention is turned to give Izuku’s outfit a critical once-over.

“You don’t have any other shoes?” Toshinori asks, contemplating the red hue of his successor’s sneakers. The rest of the clothes are appropriately sturdy and dark in palette.

“No? Sorry…”

“Eh, it should be fine. There shouldn’t be a lot of traffic up top anyway. Come on, let’s move!”

They make their way to the stairs, but to Izuku’s obvious confusion, Toshinori leads them further up.

“Yagi-san, you said that this was going to be a special Basic Physical Fitness Training session,” the kid says. “Can I ask… who thought of it? You, or Gran Torino?”

“Oh, this is totally my idea,” says Toshinori breezily. “I know the beach clean-up is the ultimate goal, and it’ll stay as your focus before high school, but I realized today that there are some experiences that you just can’t replicate as a holder of One for All! Experiences that even our Quirkless bodies can manage!”

They head higher. Izuku gets more nervous, but gamely follows Toshinori up the fire safety ladder.

On the roof, Gran Torino greets them with a curt, “Boys. This is the stupidest thing I can imagine for you two to do, in the stupidest place possible.” He’s sitting on the ledge, and as Toshinori requested, two lengths of steel pipes are leaned up next to him.

“Musutafu’s perfectly safe,” Toshinori counters. “And with you here, Gran Torino, there’s minimal risk of, well...”

“Falling to your deaths?”

Izuku squeaks. He quivers beside Toshinori, and when Toshinori glances down, Izuku is staring at the pipes, aghast. “What are we doing, Yagi-san?”

“We,” Toshinori says with great dignity, “are training in the great art of parkour. The pipes are insurance for safety, supposing we see real trouble that a pro-hero won’t get to in time.”

“Legally speaking, vigilantism,” Gran Torino interrupts.

“But we’re not going to get caught.”

“Which makes you juvenile delinquents.”

“Gran Torino,” Toshinori complains, feeling delightfully young and unburdened now that he’s gotten accustomed to Torino’s incredible, mellowed-out approach to training Izuku. What trauma? What spars? Toshinori at fifteen didn’t know anything about that, and Gran Torino at his current age looked nothing like the pro-hero who haunted the end of his high school career!

“I’m enabling you, aren’t I?” the old man shoots back. “Don’t I get to express my own opinions?”

“Is it really safe, though?” Izuku asks.

“Of course!” Toshinori picks up a pipe, hefts it, and tosses it over to Izuku, who catches it while wearing a thoroughly beleaguered expression. Then he grabs the other. “Listen, Midoriya-kun. If it’s really going to be a year until you get One for All, then the American Dream plan can afford to be a little flexible! You want to be a U.A. student, right?!”

“R-right!”

“Then we can’t just train your body!” he cries, lifting the pipe like a torch. “We’ve gotta train your willingness to get into a scrap!”

A little more wobbly, Izuku repeats, “R-right!” And because his successor is more polite, Izuku turns to Gran Torino and executes a little bow, adding, “Thank you for letting us do this, Gran Torino! And for keeping an eye on us!”

Torino sighs.

[ghoul-slime]

80 with some mountain/swiss? if you'd so kindly write it :)

Mountain/Swiss with a little bit of mean Swiss and some boot kink (as a treat). Also still taking prompts!

Swiss knows what he looks like up on that stage. How his uniform pants hug his hips in just the right way, how the vest cinched tight around his waist accentuates his broad shoulders and chest. The way he grinds into his mic stand, strokes his rain shaker like it's an extension of himself.

Swiss loves putting on a show, and tonight, Mountain feels like the show is just for him. Swiss has been watching him all night long, eyes shining and brilliant white fangs on display. Every thrust of his hips and flick of his tongue were aimed directly at Mountain’s kit, and Swiss made sure he knew it. Every time Mountain glanced at Swiss’ platform he’d been staring back at him, shooting him that signature too-wide grin normally reserved for the crowd.

Mountain sweats through his uniform faster than usual that night.

At bows he feels Swiss press up against him and take his hand. And he doesn’t let go as they walk off stage, dragging him past the techs and through the venue to the dressing rooms. Mountain is still sweating as Swiss pushes and pulls him, bullies him onto the dressing room couch with his long legs spread. Distantly, Mountain notices that his own boot laces are still untied.

“You’ve been watching me all night, big guy” Swiss laughs, “Pretty sure you’ve been drooling.”

Mountain sputters, wanting to point out that Swiss had been leering at him all night, but the thought is snuffed out when Swiss leans in to kiss him, shoving his tongue into his mouth, wet and hot and licking in deep. He tastes like cannabis and grease makeup.

Mountain is hard in his pants immediately.

Swiss breaks the kiss, straightening back up and grinning down at Mountain again. Hungry. 

He’s still grinning when he lifts one foot to press between Mountain’s legs, digging directly into his crotch with the toe of his boot. Mountain moans ragged and deep as Swiss increases the pressure, bending his knee and leaning in as he presses the thick rubber sole of his boot onto Mountain’s straining cock.

“What? Does that feel good?” Swiss teases, feigning surprise as Mountain whimpers an affirmative, hands scrabbling at the fabric of the couch as Swiss eases the pressure.

Mountain clenches his eyes and nods frantically when Swiss presses in again. This time he twists his foot, dragging the toe of his boot down Mountain’s cock before pressing in one more time with his heel. Mountain can feel the entire sole of his boot pressing against the length of his twitching cock, and he opens his eyes to see a dark, wet patch blooming at the tip, soaking through the fabric.

“Think you can cum like this?” Swiss asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Mountain nods again.

He’s expecting Swiss to take pity on him, press back in with his boot and finish him off right there in his pants, making a mess of his uniform and the dressing room couch. Instead Swiss pulls away completely, leaving Mountain shaking, looking up at him through damp lashes. 

He’s ready to start begging when Swiss hauls himself into Mountain’s lap. Suddenly it’s a blur, Swiss grinding into his lap, dragging his own clothed erection up and down Mountain’s leaking cock as he humps relentlessly against him. The couch creaks with their weight as Swiss attaches his mouth to Mountain’s neck, eagerly nipping and sucking with filthy, wet sounds. Swiss snakes a hand into Mountain’s hair, licking across his Adam’s apple, mouthing thick and slick into his ear, dragging the sharp points of his fangs up the length of his pulsing jugular as he twists and grinds. Treating Mountain’s lap like a mirror image of his mic stand on stage.

Mountain feels the heat coil in his gut, balls drawing up tight and ready to bust when Swiss backs off. He cries out at his ruined orgasm and Swiss only grins down at him, black grease paint nearly completely smudged off, remnants of it staining his fangs. Mountain knows his neck must be a fucking wreck, streaked with black and peppered with bruises, shiny wet with Swiss’ spit.

“Too bad,” Swiss laughs, and pats Mountan’s cheek with the palm of one big hand. He stands, adjusting his own straining cock in his pants and turns to leave with a sway of his hips. 

Mountain can only stare, chest heaving and erection flagging as Swiss makes for the door of the dressing room.

Before he leaves, he looks at Mountain over his shoulder, sporting another wicked grin. 

“Rooming with Aether tonight, think maybe you should ask to swap hotel keys with him.” 

Swiss blows him a kiss and as the door closes, Mountain can hear Swiss laughing to himself all the way down the hallway.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Lose You to Love Me pt. 2

type: angst warning(s): mentions of previous depression, depressive thoughts, questioning the meaning of one’s life, gloomy word count: 2.5k  summary/request: part 2 to LYTLM + @azrielsbabyg Hi can you write a fic where reader broke the bond with az cuz she was going through shit and he thought it was because of him. But then years years later he sees her at a rubber court ball and is like huh she seems happy. But then smth in him tells him she isn't and yk he confronts her??

-all rights reserved- 

Music sounds in Azriel’s ears, faint and seemingly so far away although he is in the middle of a big crowd. He stands straight, hands folded behind his back, his shoulder’s squared, shadows calm around his figure. The High Lord and Lady have just wished a Happy Solstice upon everyone and now it is time to celebrate.

Celebrating…a word that tastes strange on Azriel’s tongue. His heart sinks when he ponders about the word. 

He hasn’t celebrated in years, since the moment you have left him. Since then his heart has been empty, the bond dull, dead, and all happiness has been stolen from him. His heart has been left in pieces that moment and even though many have tried to repair it there was no hope for it. 

Your departure has wrecked him and since then the shadowsinger has only existed anymore, wondering every day if it really was worth living without having you in his life. 

Azriel bows his head at Cassian who shoots him a questioning look from across the dance floor where he is swaying with Nesta. Out of everyone Cassian has been the most empathetic, always being there for Azriel when he needed someone. 

Azriel is happy that Cassian still has his Nesta, that he can sway with her over the dancefloor, careless, free and happy. Happy…the word sounds strange, foreign, leaving a bitter taste behind because it is something the shadowsinger hasn’t felt in years. 

And then there is this other emotion, something so strong, so poignant, so suffocating. Jealousy. 

Yes, dammit, Azriel is jealous. His gaze moves to his brother Rhys, sitting upon his throne, Feyre next to him, their hands intertwined. Glancing over at Cassian and Nesta who still happily dance, a stray tear appears in the spymaster’s eye and he averts his gaze, only for it to land on Mor and Emerie, who have finally found their way to each other. Mor is no longer scared of loving Emerie in public and wants to show her partner to everyone, especially to her parents. 

Azriel clenches his jaw and swallows the pain that makes his throat burn. His gaze moves to the ground, his hands clenched tighter behind his back. 

“The house close to temple?”

One moment his gaze was on the ground, now…now it is focused on the person just a few metres away from him. Everything stops when his eyes fall on your figure, dressed in the most beautiful black gown he has ever seen you in, your hair swept up, large pearl earrings in your ears.

You laugh, tipping your head back while you are talking to a female from the Hewn City. Azriel does not know her, does not care who she is. His focus is on you, on you only. Azriel shoulders are hunched when he tries to make out what you are talking about. His eyes follow the movement of your lips and when he gives you a once over again, his heart beat stops. 

You are his mate, his one true love and nothing has changed about that in all the years you have been gone. Awareness dawns on him that he still loves you just the same and this thought…this thought is painful, stretching out, sinking its sharp fangs into Az’s heart like a hungry viper. He shudders, his eyes trained on his mate, his only chance at true love, on you. 

The breath gets knocked from his lungs just like all those centuries ago when his eyes trail over all your little details, over the smile on your face. 

And it is this smile on your face – this smile that does not reach your eyes, that tells him his that you aren’t really happy. It is a mask, a fals facade. You are pretending.

His feet move on their own accord, so fast he can't stop. They carry him over the ground, through the room and make him stop right in front of you. His expression his gloomy, his whole body rigid, no words leaving his mouth when you turn to him, startled by the sudden appearance of a tall presence behind you. 

Your breathing halts when you notice who is standing behind you, this familiar warmth, this familiar scent—

Your eyes widen when you fully turn, eyes lifting to his. A shudder courses through your body, like icy fingers curling around your spine, slowly crawling upwards. Ragged breaths leave you, eyes barely able to hold his gaze.

Your lips, that all of a sudden feel so dry, part. “Azriel.” The breathy whisper of your voice is like a feather brushing over Azriel’s skin, so soft, so gentle.

Oh, has he been longing, yearning, to hear your voice just once again. And now you are here, right in front of him, speaking his name with your wonderful, mellifluous voice. 

“Y/N,” Azriel says in a cold voice, in a voice that is unfamiliar to you. There is so much bitterness, so much hurt in it, you barely recognise it. Azriel’s mouth is pinched, he wears a shattered expression, when pure and utter pain flickers in his eyes.

“How have you been?” 

You desperately want to say good. Because that is what you have wanted. You have wanted to be happy and you have been. You have been healing, slowly learning how to be happy on your own, until your soul started longing, yearning for its equal, for its other half.

You have missed Azriel, a strong and powerful feeling, that has never vanished since it sparked first around a year after you have left him. That year before it, you used to heal, to grow on your own and you had managed it. 

But since a long time after that a feeling of loneliness, or hopelessness has overcome you. You hated yourself for it, for never being able to be happy. Because you know that you could never have the one thing that would make you happy, that would make you complete again. Because, would Azriel really take you back? Want you back?

You left him back then, he has probably moved on, you have thought. 

But maybe this thought has been wrong. As he is standing here in front of you, with so much pain but also hopefulness in his eyes, you get the impression that he might have missed you the same.

But could he ever forgive you for hurting him so much? Could he understand your reasons?

And more importantly: Could you ever forgive yourself for hurting him so much?

You know you could never–you have broken his heart, shattered it, stamped on it because you focused on yourself back then. On yourself only, didn’t you?

“Hm?” Azriel’s voice is gentle, drawing your attention back to him. Your lips part when you inhale a deep breath. Pulling a strand of hair out of the bun on top of your head and moving it forward, you start playing with it, feeling your skin prickle and anxiety sweep into your body. You don’t want to hurt him again. You don't know what to answer, every possible answer could hurt him in some way.

“Good,” you finally admit, forcing a small smile onto your face that definitely does not reach your eyes. Azriel notices this immediately and his brows crease. You have never broken the bond, you just have clamped down the feeling, have tried to ignore it as good as possible. You have felt his hurt, until the point where you could really somehow turn it off. But now, standing here in front of him, this is no longer possible. The bond comes alive again, all sorts of emotions flooding you, washing over you in tidal waves. 

A gloomy sigh leaves Azriel when he bows his head slowly. “That is good to hear. I am happy for you.” And gods, his voice is tearful, breaks with the last spoken syllable so you quickly reach for him, for his upper arm, curling your fingers around the familiar hard biceps.

“That does not mean I did not miss you.”

Relief visible fills every fiber of the shadowsinger, something like hope reaching you through the bond, the taste it leaves at the bake of your mouth fresh and sweet. 

I missed you like hell, Azriel wants to say, so much it broke me, shattered me. But he cannot. The words die down in his throat, the only thing on his mind the question why you have left him back then.

“Why did you leave?" Azriel asks, the words slipping through his lips before he can stop them from tumbling out. He brings one hand up, brushing it through his hair. The movement makes you feel nostalgic. You loved doing that, brushing through his hair when he was sleeping, head resting on your lap. This thought, this memory, makes tears burn behind your eyes and you swallow thickly, the lump in your throat growing. 

“I just needed space,” you whisper, the people around you seemingly vanishing into nothing. It is just you and Az now. 

“And I didn’t give you enough space?”

You did, you think, but I wasn’t in a good place back then. It was my fault. 

You draw in a deep inhale, your eyes filled with sorrow and pain when you look deep into his. “I am sorry.” “For leaving?” “For not—can we talk somewhere in private?”

Azriel obviously agrees, guiding you through the crowd of people, leading you out into the corridor  outside the throne room. “For?” he asks before giving you a chance to answer. His presence fills the hallways, shadows coming alive around him, probably by your presence. They have always loved you. Azriel, even though he is so tall, has a closed body posture, arms crossed in front of his chest, avoiding eye contact now that you are alone, staring at the wall behind you.

“For not giving you an appropriate reason for my departure.”

You take one step back, wanting to look at him fully, and meet with the cold, hard stone behind you. You wince when your naked back comes in contact with the cool surface, Azriel's gaze immediately shooting to yours. The spymaster widens his stance, eyes trailing over your figure. 

“What was the reason?” You hang your head low when you feel one tear leave your eye, slowly sliding down your cheek. It is Azriel who catches it, tipping your head up with his scarred hand.

The moments your gazes clash you cannot hold back, the tears are coming in waves, rushing out of you like waterfalls.

“I couldn’t drag you down with me. I needed to find myself on my own. I needed to fight my demons on my own. I didn’t want you to have to go through this with me.” Pain laces his features, his eyes when the shadowsinger cradles your face in both his hands, his palms surprisingly warm in the cool corridor. “I am your mate. I would have helped you fight against all those demons.” His voice is so soft, so gentle, so full of love.

You move your own hands over his, meeting his gaze through a blurry vision. “I know. And I only realised this too late. But I didn’t want you to hurt. Didn’t want to bother you with my—“ Azriel pulls you to his chest, your figure, just as it always used to be, perfectly fitting against his. You melt against him when Azriel kisses the top of your head, arms moving around shoulders. 

“I am you mate. Nothing has changed about that. You are allowed to bother me with your problems. You have always been. You are and have always been my priority. You were always the most important person in my life, even when you were gone, even when I lay in bad, tossing and turning, haunted by nightmares, even now, you are the most important person in my life. My mate.” 

Azriel tips your had back, forcing your eyes to meet his. “My equal. My wife. My love. My home. My forever.”

“I never stopped loving you.” Your voice is raspy, filled with so much pain, so much regret.

“And I never stopped loving you. You broke my heart, ripped it out, I was shattered, but part of me always loved you. Will always love you. And will never stop loving you. Endlessly and entirely.”

You shudder, shoulders and chest heaving with soft sobs. Azriel’s own body shakes, holding your trembling one, providing the support you really need in this moment. The support he has always given you, but you at one point were not ready to accept that support. Even though leaving back then and fighting this battle on your own was the best decision, a feeling of immense regret and remorse fills you.

Your heart fully cracks open when the male in front of you breaks. He tumbles onto you, tearing up, weeping when his face falls into the crook of your neck, his hands clawing at your bare back. A low, sobby shout leaves the tall male, his whole figure shaking, large wings lifelessly hanging behind his broad shoulders. You curl your arms around his neck. "Will you ever find forgiveness more me leaving you just like that?” you say. Your voice his calm, your cheek brushing his.

“Yes,” Azriel rasps. “If you can forgive yourself.” He has read your emotions, has felt them through the bond, knows that you feel regret. 

“Az.” “I also made mistakes. I should have know what you went through. I should have—“ “You did everything right. There is no blame on you. I wasn’t just in a place to be able to accept your support.”

Azriel embraces you tightly, his chest heaving against yours.

“I was in such a dark place and I did not want you to have to go there with me.” “I was ready to go there with you. Would always be, to help you get out of there again.” “I know. I was such a fool to not see this." Azriel squeezes you tightly, kissing your shoulder. “You weren’t a fool. You were just blinded by these…thoughts and your emotions. You are not to blame. I don’t blame you. It was what you needed to heal, to fight this battle alone. I am so proud of you for managing to fight your demons.”

 A long moment passes where you just hold each other, breathing the same air, holding onto each other like your lives depend on it. And they probably do. Your souls finally united, bond coming alive after being dull and empty for so long. 

“Be mine again?” Azriel says against your ear, his lips damp and warm.

“Yes.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, curling your arm around his head and pulling him closer to you, holding him, cheeks presses against each other.

“We can work through all of it. Together. You never have to do anything alone.”

“No, never. I know that, Azriel. I know that now.”

The shadowsinger lifts you off the ground, letting your curl your legs around his waist to get a better hold on you. You don't let go off each other for a long momemt, standing in the corridor, hugging, sharing some soft, small pecks here and there, but mostly just embracing the other’s closeness, the feeling of finally being close again, of your souls being reunited. 

This is the start of something new. This is truly forever now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts-blog @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

[abbythewritor]

"Fairness." One Piece x Saitama reader, 2.

"Just a Normal girl looking for an everyday life. At least, if you call sailing across the seas with idiots with useless dreams a simple task, then you might wanna see a doctor. Seriously."

Warnings: Blood, gore, mentions of Luekimia, and heaps amount of blood and strength. It might be a little cursing, but not bad, and maybe some flirting in there, but it's mostly clean.

Other things:

-You didn't get bald due to your powers; you got bald to an extreme illness.

-You part of the straw hat crew, but others are interested in you and your power.

-Everyone that is a male is taller than you.

-Monsters from the OPM world will appear in One Piece, and I'll make some new monsters you will fight.

Enjoy the second chapter, everyone. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These marine people were annoying.

They kept shooting their guns at us, and it didn't even work; I don't know why they were still trying.

Crocodile just turned into sand, and Jimbei used his power and scattered water everywhere, making them slip, Luffy, however, was rubber, as the bullets reflected off of him, as I was scattering them like flies, flinging and punching them everywhere.

"It's hot!' Luffy spoke as one of them was calling for backup, as me and the crocodile didn't change a face as we kept throwing marines into the fire or kicking the shit out of them.

One of them was about to attack Crocodile behind, but he turned before I simply slapped the guy, his body exploding in front of the warlord, whose eyes widened and looked at me.

I turned to Luffy and Jimbei. "Let's keep going forward!!" They nodded, crocodile still speechless, but shook it off as he followed us more onto the floor, Marines still coming out way.

Some shot at a crocodile with regular bullets, and some of his body parts turned into sand, large holes into his body as he simply smirked at them.

Surprised, they forgot to use special bullets as he stepped forward, his left hand forming a large sand whip as he whipped them away, falling into the lava below.

Luffy blew multiple blows at once; as Jimbei did Fishman Karate, all the men surrounded them, falling into the water, ate well.

The three looked around, wondering where I went as I was ahead, trouncing more Marines. As a group surrounded me simultaneously, I simply jumped in the air, flying before launching back down, breaking the ground as they flew apart, spreading throughout.

I dodged more oncoming attacks, hitting each person in the back of the neck while kicking, sending some flying upwards or downwards to their death.

But two were about to punch me simultaneously, so I grabbed their face, the wind blowing suddenly as I harshly glared at one of them, pulling them closer as their heads smashed together, their bodies plopping to the floor as some men that were held in cells were impressed, drooling over me as the bodies of the marines plopped to the floor. "SUEGEE!!" Luffy yelled, stars in his eyes as Jimbie smiled. "Never expected this girl to have this much strength." Crocodile hummed, eying you still as you freed some prisoners. "She scattered them like bugs." As I tore down some more cell doors, some men thanked me, as the other three did the same, making sure to free every man held up in here before moving on to the next floor. But, Crocodile stopped at a particular cell and smirked, my head tilting with confusion as he turned to the prisoners. "I'm thinking of breaking out of here...care to Join us, Mister one?" I also looked that way, seeing a man with a shaved head and a more chiseled body. He looked up and simply nodded as I quickly ripped the door open with one hand, as some prisoners were shocked. "WHAT STRENGTH!" They yelled as Mister 1 came out, bowing to Crocodile, before turning to me. "You strong...what's your name?" "Abby, how do you know Crocodile?" He smiled slightly. "I worked with him in Alabasta." "I see." I turned to look at Luffy and Jimbei going forward. "We should go; we can't waste time with conversation. It's nice to meet you, Mister One." I bowed respectfully before heading to Luffy and Jimbei as he looked to Crocodile. "She's interesting." Crocodile chuckled. "That she is.." With that, the two followed after us, along with many other prisoners, as we headed to floor four, where the alarms got louder but didn't bother us.

As we were running down the hall, Ivonka and Bon-chan seemed to have caught up with us and the others, and Luffy greeted them happily as we continued more down the hallway. Crocodile and Mister One caught up as well, Bon Chan not believing his eyes but ignoring them.

Soon enough, more marines were coming towards us as I jumped high in the air, flipping in the air as I kicked down, breaking the ground again as they all scattered, my face bit changing a shade of emotion. Ivanka's head grew big, helping with the load as Mister One was quick, slicing and killing the marines with the scissorsman, both of them watching each other back. I ran forward with Crocodile, bullets not affecting us as we took care of more ahead, Luffy and Jimbei helping the others in the back as everyone caught up again.

But, our path soon would be blocked by giant animals; my eyes widened with shock as they looked like the stuffed animals I had at home. "H-HOLY CRAP!" everyone was confused about why they wouldn't let us past, as a lady wearing a very revealing outfit came out, as her tongue licked her lips. "They won't let you all out, and neither would I!" I cringed as she was almost naked, and I'm glad I'm not dressed like that. But, as we were about to attack the giant stuffed animals, Ivanka's men/women stepped forward wanting to fight them for us, thanking them as he, him, Jimbei, Mister One, Ivanka, Crocodile, and others were allowed to pass through.

But, I had an ill feeling as I stepped back, as these stuffed animals seemed more robust than those people. "Guys! Go ahead, I'll help them!" Luffy was shocked. "But, Y/n, you're supposed to help me-" "I smile at him." Don't worry, I'll catch up. It will take me five seconds, tops." Not Knowing what you mean, he just nodded, as they all continued forwards, but Crocodile decided to stay behind as I ran back towards the stuffed Animals, them sensing me as they turned as I launched into the air. "You will not hurt these people! You will let us escape!!" I punched the Koala, and it was quickly killed and exploded when I only hit it once, as everyone's eyes widened suddenly. "WHAT?!!!!!!" Yelled Ivanka's crew as guts and organs were falling, and another one of the animals attacked; I teleported behind it, punched it in the back of the head, it sharing the same fate as his friend, as did the last one as well, which I blocked from punching a woman, as my feet slammed into its stomach, causing it to explode, and launch to the crocodile who was smirking, and grabbed its heart, and destroyed it with his sand power. My power shocked everyone, like how did I kill all three with one punch and a kick?! Crocodile showed no emotion on the outside, but secretly, his heart was racing with slight fear as he eyed you, wondering why you were hiding all that strength under your cuteness? He couldn’t read you, as the look you gave off were innocent, open minded, but no, inside you were ruthless, like a pirate should be. Soon enough, I motioned Ivanka's crew to continue as I ran to the crocodile, grabbing his hand as he followed. "Come on! Let's catch up!" Not thinking of anything when holding his hand, he was confused about why you were doing this but wasn't bothered from pulling away, as the two of you soon saw Luffy and the others.

Crocodile picked you up and used his sand to get you both quicker to them. You were in his arms as he landed, and Luffy smiled brightly, not bothered that the warlord was holding you, being careful not to drop you. "Y/n-san!!" He greeted, the others happy to see me again as Crocodile let me hop off, and I ran beside Jimbei. "How close are we to the next floor?!" Jimbei looked ahead. "Not far! You weren't kidding when you said you'd be five minutes! How did you manage that?” I smirked at his question. "A girl has her ways; now come on, everyone, let's go!"

"Yes!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all were still trying to get out of level four, as more marines and guards were still trying to stop us, but quickly failed as I got cut slightly, my mouth hissing before Mister One sliced the person in front of me, his head turning. "You alright?!" I nod, taking a deep breath before punching another guy coming at me; he is just dead, even from the slightest impact. "I'm fine! Let's continue!" He was confused and ducked from a sword about to slice him as Bon-chan kicked him away, the scissorsman cutting the man dead. "They just keep coming! They really hate us, pirates, huh?!" Crocodile scoffed, bringing one in the air as he landed beside me, glaring at Luffy. "What the hell are they supposed to do? Let us leave with kittens and rainbows as souvenirs?" Bon-chan slumped as Crocodile dodged more bullets. "That would be nice..." "EVERYONE! I SEE THE STAIRS TO THE NEXT FLOOR! I WILL OPEN THE DOOR!" Scissorsman yelled, as I nodded, following him first as everyone ran with us and followed.

Soon enough, we reached a large door, and the man used his scissors, cutting in different directions until he stopped, the door already opening by itself.

We stopped, not knowing what was happening as some prisoners were about to enter the door, until I saw someone on the other side. "Wait!" I yelled, causing them to stop. "There's someone there!" A weird-shaped man, who was twirling his sword in the air, was facing us; it slammed into the ground as he glared at us harshly. "No criminal has gotten past me here and escaped alive!" My head tilted with confusion as I pointed to him blankly. "Who is this?" Scissors man stood beside me. "He is Hannyabal-the vice warden of this prison." He stated as more prisoners came up from behind. I sensed something more wrong as I saw guns pointing at them, and my eyes widened. "GET DOWN!!" The prisoners suddenly listened as gunshots fired, Luffy and Crocodile blocking everyone from getting hit; as some got tied into nets, Luffy and I looked back with slight annoyance. "Luffy... there are probably gunmen hiding in the stairs case; we must fight through them after all." His teeth gritted, as did the scissorsman, the Vice warden laughing. "That is right; there is no escape for you all!" He confessed as Luffy walked forward. I was about to stop him until Jimbei put a hand on my shoulder, his head shaking. I sighed and looked like Luffy was fighting him, but the Vice warden's attacks were quick as he struggled.

But, as the sword was about to hit Luffy's neck, I stood before him, my teeth biting on the blade as I broke instantly, his and the other's eyes widening suddenly.

"E-EH?!!!!!"

It was like slow motion, as the pieces of the blade fell to the floor, Luffy and Jimbei looking at me with utter shock, as the Vice warden stepped back with fear. "N-Now, wait a minute, h-how." I gave him no time to speak as I stepped aside, Luffy running to him and giving the warden a final blow as he slid back, unconscious.

The other soldiers were terrified, but they attacked anyway as the others helped fend them off, as the exit was right in front of us. Once all of the soldiers on this floor were down, we took a second and looked to the stairs to floor four.

But when we all thought we could get to the third floor, black-like mist spread from the stairs, and the warden was soon kicked out of the way.

The man seemed familiar to everyone, as you were clueless as he was more extensive, uglier, and seemed powerful. His menacing laugh arose around us as his eyes looked up at us with a sinister smirk. "I-Ive met him at J-Jaya!" Luffy spoke, his eyes widening as both men stared each other down; tension was high in the air as this man blocked our chance again to the third floor. "Oh! Wow! So many familiar faces!Interestingly, I get to see them all at once CHEHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Everyone glared at him harshly, while I was still confused about who he was, as I looked at Jimbeis, fist clenching. "It seems like you all were in the middle of something!" Teech!!!" Jimbei roared as the man looked at him, and both glared harshly at each other, the tension just as high as before.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE?!!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[charkyzombicorn]

Garp once got cussed out by Sun's personality au Luffy when he had seastone on and Garp didn't know how to react.

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH--

Garp saw Luffy, drenched an tangled in the seastone net, and he wasn't making a sound. Garp didn't care to notice, he marched over to where Luffy was sat on the ship deck and covered his fist in a bit of haki, before punching the kid in the head.

Instead of rubber Garp's knuckles hit a solid skull, Luffy's head snapped down with the force, his teeth clacking together and his head didn't bounce back like it was supposed to. Luffy didn't whine, or yell or even cry. He just sat there. So Garp broke the silence. "You brat! This is what I get for raising you?! You're still a damned pirate!" He went to, because it was easy, he'd said it a hundred times before, he'd likely say it a hundred times again. He didn't bring up anything, he didn't mention that now, Luffy would never be a marine - now that his parentage was out.

Luffy finally raised his head, and Garp almost relieved at the return to normalcy; he was about to yell about how he was gonna be a pirate whether Garp liked it or not, and whine like a kid about not wanting to be a marine, just like back in the good old days when Garp could fit all three of his grandsons in one arm.

"You didn't raise me. You killed the man that raised me." Luffy grit, and the eyes that met Garp's were not grumpy, or even teary like when he last saw his grandson on Ace's final stage. Luffy was looking at him in a way Garp hadn't seen in a decade, the way Ace used to look when he thought too long. Hatred, grief, mistrust, the kind of look you had to earn.

Garp's teeth grit in turn. "Ace made his choice--"

"You made the choice to get in my way. Don't you dare accuse Ace of deserving what happened and don't act like I'm a child who doesn't understand exactly what you chose." Luffy hissed, his whole form shaking, his face pale and his pupils pinpricks. On his knees he was the same height he was when Garp would ruffle his hair and carry him when he fell asleep, but now Garp faced a man.

"I swore myself to the marines--"

"You were the closest thing Ace had to a father!" Luffy yelled, trying to get to his feet but his eyes glazed over and he fell to his knees again. He was breathing harshly. "Maybe it's a pirate thing, maybe it's because I'm a outlaw but I would have given up every oath I have if it mean't Ace kept his promise to not die! I would have sold myself to the marines in an instant if it meant Ace got the chance to live the life he wanted!" He barked. "But that's not justice, is it? Justice is hunting children, shooting down free men and bowing to the masters who would take your life because all they've ever known is to take! I hate you!" He thrashed in the seastone net, but it did nothing.

Garp stared at the man that used to be his brash, weepy grandson. The man who used to beg Garp to train him more if only to stay on the island a little longer. The man who used to come back to Dadan's with large bruises, broken bones and a smile because he got just a little closer to Ace that day. The man who loves so completely and unconditionally he doesn't mind bleeding for it. The man who couldn't lie. The man who said he hated Garp, after his love ran out of excuses.

Garp looked at the man, truly looked at him past the resemblance he had to Garp's youngest grandson.

Because his grandson, the only one he had left, was gone.

[arpmemething2]

Quotes from Harley Quinn starters

Send one in for my muse’s reaction.  Taken from all forms of media.   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"I got you a kitty."

“So what if I’m crazy? The best people are.”

“I have done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. I have proved I love you. Just accept it!”

"I gotta work on my cardio."

"Stupid bats, your ruining date night!"

“We can’t change the past, but there’s a difference between moving on and letting go.”

“If I get mad at you that means I still care. Worry when I don’t get mad.”

"Isn’t this fun? It’s just like a sleepover. We should order pizza- make Cosmos!"

"My rational mind can recognize pain when I see it. But my rational mind is in a pretty small box. All tied up with a bow on it."

“Find what you love and let it kill you.”

"Shhh, face it sugar I got something you want and you sure a shootin' have something I want, so be a good boy and maybe, maybe Mama will give you a cookie"

“You made me want to be a less terrible person.”

“Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape?”

"Mmmm, spiked eggnog. It's like the cream a' Christmas in a spoon!"

"You really put the 'fun' in funeral."

"What's gonna happen here is, I'm gonna turn off the lights for two minutes, an' when I turn 'em back on, whoever's still standin' gets the job."

"The joke's on you, I'm not evena  real blonde."

“Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power.”

"But the clown-spankin' truth is this, our strength comes not from being whole, but from bein' broken differently. Because there's enough of us, we are whole together."

"Psychologically speaking, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis we hope for."

"I'm rubber, your glue, whatever you say bounces off me and makes a six inch diameter exit wound in you."

"Own that shit. Own it!"

"Have you heard this new Taylor Swift song? It's soooo good."

"I must let the world know about my craving. I want pancakes and I want them now!"

"It's the end of the world. Have a drink with us."

“If I’m mad enough to skip the tears and go straight to laughing, you better run ‘cause I’m about to lose my shit.”

"How about you, hot stuff?"

"Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you. Hey, I'm talking to you!"

“You don’t like me? Fine. Don’t waste my time then.”

“I’m known to be quite vexing I’m just forewarning you.”

“I’m bored. Play with me.”

“You know, for what it’s worth, I actually enjoyed some of our romps, but there comes a time when a gal wants more. And now, all this gal wants is to settle down with her lovin’ sweetheart.”

“I love him not for the way he silenced my demons, but for the way his demons dance with mine.”

“I’m having a bad day! I’m sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up! All I wanted was a new dress – and I actually paid for it!”

“That’s so cute, you think you’re scary. Well, mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his smile.”

"What, I got a hickey or something?"

"How rude!"

“Call me a softie, I dare ya!”

"Arent’ you glad you wore that? Sexy AND bulletproof!"

"That was so not romantic."

“Sometimes the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy.”

“I’m not shopping at this store: I’m robbing this store. Paying is for dummies!”

"You're cute. You want me? I'm all yours."

“You know what they say: behind every successful man is a badass broad.”

"Maybe I can stick you some shampoo."

“Don’t know if I wanna kill you or kiss you.”

"It's called 'animals attack people I hate"... It's a comedy."

“All of that chit-chat is gonna get you hurt.”

“We’re bad guys, it’s what we do.”

“The world can be amazing when you’re slightly strange.”

"I recommend a lobotomy.”

"Look, I'm in no mood for this crap. Especially after the day I been havin!"

"Mama's gonna paint the streets with blood."

"Why can't a girl be nice to a guy without the mook trying to murder her?"

“Now you feel like you have someone by your side to share the journey with you.”

“Whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you stranger.”

"Hey, I'm cooperating. All right? This is me being cool."

"Love your perfume.  What is that, the scent of death?"

“Every woman has a crazy side that only the right man can bring out.”

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word, Momma’s gonna kill for you the whole damn world.”

“You don’t have to be crazy to be in love. But it helps.”

“Wait ‘till they get a load of me.”

"I would be instigating mayhem everywhere I go!"

"sweetie, get mommy's bazooka."

"Now that's a killer app!"

"I love it! It's so... cinematic!"

"They say if you want to tell a story right, you gotta start at the beginning."

“I’m not sure if I attract crazy or if I make them that way.”

“You can’t deny there’s an element of glamour to these super-criminals.”

[loislame84]

Working on the next chapter of From Russia with Begrudging Acceptance… here’s a small sneak peek since it might be a minute before I can post anything. Work is going to be crazy for me for a few weeks but I’m still trying to write when I get a chance!

***

Meeting mission Yelena was both an arousing and terrifying experience for Kate. Her girlfriend was focused on coming up with the best plan possible which would quickly accomplish everything with the least amount of people needing to be involved. Watching Yelena give the orders, standing at the white board was intoxicating enough but watching her sweat while kicking the absolute shit out of Peter was the most erotic thing Kate had ever witnessed with her own eyes. She was patiently waiting her turn for a go on mats but frowned when a voice called just beside her ear, “careful Kate Bishop if you drool anymore I’ll have to bring out a caution wet floor sign.”

Kate’s cheeks reddened while she quickly moved her thumb across her bottom lip to make sure she wasn’t actually drooling onto the training room floor. “What are you doing here?” She turned to see a familiar shit eating smirk that all former widows seemed accustomed to wearing.

“It’s your lucky day,” Sonya’s eyes glanced towards her partner right as she delivered a roundhouse kick which the boy surprisingly avoided just to get punched in the gut. “You and me, shooting day.”

“Why do I have to do the gun training when I’ll be using my bow,” Kate said petulantly as the thought of leaving the area was unpleasant.

“Do you want to question Yelena’s plans? We can go over the schedule together again if you’d like but I’m sure you remember how well that turned out,” another smirk forming.

Oh, Kate definitely remembered seeing how it was only three days ago. It was their second day of training and apparently Kate was feeling particularly bratty that day.

*2 days prior…*

Yelena had set up a training circuit for Peter and Kate to go through which included a series of different weapons from physical combat, guns, knives, and included a section for both of their weapons of choice. “Yes, I’m talking about your buttlace and your arrows. Sonya and I will be in there to attack at various points plus there are holographic enemies set up throughout the course. The technology is crazy at this place,” Yelena had let slip.

“So the Avengers do impress you,” Kate smirked.

Peter elbowed her, “please don’t piss off Ms. Belova before she starts shooting at us.”

“She won’t actually hurt us,” Kate rolled her eyes. “It’s only rubber rounds or pepper bullets.”

“Have you ever gotten hit with a rubber round?” Yelena laughed at the audacity of her girlfriend.

“No but how bad could it be?”

“That seems like a challenge to me,” Sonya laughed. “Permission for full contact?” She had turned to Yelena who simply nodded. She turned to her partner and whispered something into her ear which had Kate’s heart racing.

Yelena offered a deep chuckle, staring directly at her girlfriend. “The two of you will be working together to make it to the target before the time limit. If you fail, you do it until you clear the course. If you submit, you repeat the course. If you get shot, well… I think you get the point. Any questions?” Peter raised his hand, “good.” Yelena ignored him, “you have ten minutes to come up with a game plan. When the buzzer sounds, the doors open and your time starts. You have thirty minutes to complete the course.” She turned to look at her girlfriend, “watch out for the rubber rounds, little hawk.”

Yelena and Sonya went into the simulator, leaving Kate and Peter in the briefing room. “Your girlfriend is very intimidating. I hope I get attacked by Sonya. I think she’ll go easy on me.”

“I think I fucked up again,” Kate swallowed anxiously, looking at the two widows staring at them from inside the door before they left the area. “I’m sorry for your future pain, Peter. I owe you dinner or something, probably many ice packs and icy hot.”

Peter pulled up the map of the course on the interactive table, “let’s plan this out. We need to get this on the first try. I don’t know how many beating I can take today.” He started to trace out a path noting all of the hiding areas leading to the target. They came up with a solid plan. Kate was going low with a full quiver of arrows and Peter was going to take the high road, pointing out blocks in their plan. They had their coms in their ears and were standing outside the doors waiting for the buzzer. “You don’t really think she’s going to shoot you, do you?”

Kate took a few breaths, “I have no doubt that she will absolutely shoot me the shit out of me.”

[romancethedawn]

Selkie!Luffy AU pt.1

Zoro reached for another chicken leg just as the rubbery fingers of his new captain snatched the tasty morsel right out from under his nose.

An annoyed growl escaped his throat and he sent a fleeting death glare at the idiot before sighing and reaching for some of the only food left on the table, a platter of fresh caught fish that had remained miraculously untouched by Luffy.

The swordsman didn’t question it though. All he knew was that he was hungry as hell after three weeks of being starved and beaten, and if the empty pit next to him didn’t slow down soon he’d go hungry again. So he quickly began devouring all the fish he could before Luffy caught on.

Sadly, it didn’t take long for the red menace to take note of Zoro’s new meal. In an instant those big doe eyes were being directed right at him, as Luffy made soft whining noises in the back of his throat like some damn dog.

The swordsman gritted his teeth and continued enjoying his food while resolutely ignoring his persistent companion.

The bastard had eaten everything else on the table, it only seemed fair that Zoro got to eat something! After all, he was the one who had been STARVED!

“Uh…uhmmm… Z- er… Mr. R-Roronoa… sir?” The little cabin boy who had been clinging to Luffy like some kind of lamprey for the past couple of hours finally spoke up. He’d talked a bit during Zoro’s rescue as well but he hadn’t been very vocal since their return to the inn run by Rika’s mom.

“What?” Zoro pushed out the word through his mouthful of fish before taking a sip of ale and shooting the kid a warning glare. It wasn’t that he hated the boy. He was just too soft, it rubbed Zoro the wrong way. Kid needed to toughen up.

“Ah! Er…. Well…” The boy startled a bit before continuing to stutter through whatever he wanted to say. Zoro sighed, perhaps he’d been laying the big scary bounty hunter act on a little thick.

“What is it, kid?” He asked again, trying to make his voice more friendly and less… gruff. He couldn’t help but snort when the kid startled again, this time at Zoro’s sudden shift toward kindness.

“W-well… D-do you think you could let Luffy have s-some of the fish?” His voice had gotten higher with every word until he was practically squeaking. It was honestly a bit difficult to decipher what he wanted. Zoro raised an eyebrow in question and the kid, Koby he thinks his name was, laughed nervously before looking away, a distinct redness tinting his cheeks. “I-I was only with him for a couple of days before we got here, but in that time I learned that Luffy loves fish more than anything!” He exclaimed in all seriousness. Causing Luffy himself to burst out laughing.

“No, No, Koby! You’ve got it wrong!” His captain crowed, the hint of laughter always in his voice shining even brighter. “I love MEAT more than anything!” he cheered excitedly, holding up the last piece of meat at the whole table, which Zoro noticed with some chagrin was also the last piece of fish he’d been staunchly guarding. Damn… The bastard was more slippery than he’d thought.

Luffy, still laughing like an idiot, then proceeded to shove the entire fish in his mouth, head and all. Zoro was about to yell at him about choking on the bones and other things he’d heard the women in his village nag their children about, when the rubber wonder pulled the fish out of his mouth again, only this time it was missing the meat and all that was left were pristine bones.

Both Zoro and Koby stared at their friend with varying looks of concern and disgust. Zoro remembered hearing that a walrus was able to suck the skin right off a seal before but he’d never, not once in his life, seen a human being do anything similar.

It was in that moment that he resolved to never get near Luffy when he was eating. Ever.

“O-oh… sorry I-” Koby bowed his head in disappointment, but perked up quickly when Luffy ruffled his hair.

“Thanks for looking out for me though, Koby!” Luffy grinned, it was one of those way too bright ones that immediately entranced anyone who happened to be looking at it. Zoro included, he was ashamed to admit.

The red tint to Koby’s cheeks only got more intense and the young boy quickly ducked his head to hide that fact.

“So tell me, Captain…” Zoro started, taking another swig of ale, forever thankful that Luffy had taken one sip and promptly spat out the drink declaring it ‘yucky’. He didn’t think the two of them could ever get along if the straw hatted idiot kept drinking Zoro’s booze the way he ate his food. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” He continued, curious to meet them and see what other odd personalities Luffy had no doubt drawn to his side.

However, instead of starting to excitedly list off names like Zoro thought he would, Luffy just stared at Zoro blankly for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. The act was equally as bewitching as his smile and Zoro was starting to get annoyed with this kid. Seriously, did he have the sun trapped beneath his skin or something? This level of brightness was just way too much.

“Oi! I’m being serious!” He growled at his new found Captain. The sound of Luffy’s laughter died immediately and he just smiled warmly at Zoro instead.

“They’re not like Zoro,” he finally answered, “we still have to find them!” That stupid grin continued to stretch his face like nothing had changed and, Zoro supposed, nothing really had. Luffy was still Luffy and Zoro was still Zoro. They’d figure out the rest as they went.

Deciding this was a fine enough answer for now Zoro shrugged and went back to his food.

“Can’t be helped then.” He said before shoveling the very last bite of fish and rice into his mouth and taking another messy gulp of his ale. “What about your ship?” After hearing that there wasn’t a crew, his hopes weren’t high and judging by the way Luffy started badly whistling and Koby was avoiding eye contact even more than usual, he guessed it was pretty safe to say they didn’t have a ship either. He sighed heavily, was he going to be the only person with any forethought on this crew? He hoped not. It seemed like a cursed existence.

“Weeeellll…” Luffy started by drawing out the word to make it as long as possible and Zoro felt something in his forehead twitch. Probably a blood vessel straining from all this idiocy. “I do have a ship. It’s just… not super cool…” The rubber captain finished dejectedly.

Zoro opened his mouth, to comfort his childish captain or scold him, he wasn’t sure. But Luffy bounced back quickly, he was made of rubber after all, and his eyes were practically sparkling when he turned to his new first mate again. “But don’t worry, Zoro! We’re gonna get a better one really soon and it’ll be awesome! We’ll sail the Grand Line and find the One Piece! Just you wait!”

Staring into that way too bright smile with those big sparkly eyes blinking up at him, Zoro couldn’t bring himself to knock the kid down, so he simply smiled indulgently at him. “I’m sure we will, Captain.” He agreed easily enough and his positive reaction seemed to make Luffy even happier because he kicked his smile up a few notches, practically blinding his poor swordsman.

“That being said…” Zoro started as he stood from the table and kicked his chair in. “We probably need to get out of here before those Marine’s come knocking. We may have freed them, but Marines are Marines. They’ll want our heads soon enough.”

Koby looked like he wanted to disagree but Luffy had already gotten to his feet and settled his straw hat back on his head before the boy could even get the words out.

“You’re right. Let’s go!” Luffy threw his fist up in the air excitedly. Zoro simply nodded his approval and slipped his swords into his haramaki. Koby spluttering and protesting all the while.

Zoro had to admit. Parting with the kid was rough. Not because Zoro had any particular attachment to him. Koby just cried. A lot. Then the little squirt finally got the guts to toughen up and actually hit Luffy! Granted, he was only capable of doing so after Luffy backed him into a proverbial corner… but Zoro wasn’t one to dwell on such things.

Although, that look of horrified realization on his face right after he’d done it did make Zoro chuckle under his breath and hide his grin in his shoulder. So it was more of a win for Koby than the poor kid would ever realize.

After all was said and done they ended up at the docks loading the supplies Rika’s mom had so generously given them into Luffy’s absurdly small and ragged “boat.” Although, after watching the spectacle that was Luffy eating, Zoro wasn’t so sure these supplies would last them much more than a day.  

When the last sack of apples was loaded into the little dinghy Luffy threw his arms behind his head while blowing a rather loud and long raspberry and flopped into the boat back first.

His drop caused the boat to rock violently back and forth for a moment. Zoro quietly cursed his captain’s impulsiveness before stepping into the vessel himself.

“So…” he started as he took his seat in the little dinghy, “where to, Captain?”

The boy in question giggled brightly before sitting up fast enough to make the boat rock again as he pointed to the distant horizon.

“To adventure!” He cried happily.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Refrain, chapter two - a Malevolent fic (The start of Surrogate, season two!)

Kayne's "season one" ended with a choice: whichever father Faroe picked, he was ready to let that slingshot fire.

She picked Arthur. Well, that was nice, wasn't it? Especially since he'd spent almost a year pulling that rubber band back, loaded.

Of course, he had no idea how well it would work. Humans are weird, and pieces of Hastur seem to respond particularly well to prolonged exposure.

It was time to deny a wicked man his prize.

Time to give a good man a second chance and see what he did with it.

Time to take the abused piece of a god and find out how it changed when given to someone else.

Part of Surrogate, a Malevolent AU. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3 (chapter two)

-------

“Go on, snarl away,” Larson drawled in that infuriating tone he had for when he’d made Yellow extremely upset and cared not one whit about it. “Rage all you want, little one. I’ll be here when your tantrum is over.”

How DARE you, Yellow roared. I am a GOD, you miserable insect! You will bow your head in reverence, you will honor me as I speak!

“You ain’t done a damn thing to earn that,” Larson said, and Yellow did not need a mirror to know he was smiling—that insufferable fucking smirk that he used when he thought he had the upper hand. “For a god, you ain’t got a whole lot of bite to that bark.”

I will make you fucking suffer, Yellow snarled. I will rip the skin from your body and craft a suit for you to wear of it, I will—

“Then do it,” Larson drawled.

Yellow went silent, shocked.

“You’re the big, scary god,” Larson said, and he stretched his hand out, rolling his wrist. “Go on, then. You said you had Arthur’s eyes? Take mine. Take my hand. I won’t even fight you. I just want to see if you can do it.”

Yellow roared, pouring all of his power into the effort, searching out nerves or—or blood vessels, or—

“I’m waitin’,” Larson drawled.

His power found no purchase, slipping off of Larson’s body like oil over the surface of water. Yellow went quiet.

Larson laughed, rolling his wrist again, touching each of his fingers to his thumb. “That’s what I thought.”

It doesn’t— Yellow said, voice halting. I don’t—

“Oh, I know, I know. The ‘fragmented soul of a god’ schtick.” He turned his hand over, flexing the palm. “Not much of a god, if you can’t even take a willing host, hm?”

Yellow remained silent.

“Now, let's go and experiment with that ritual you mentioned. I think a bit of blood will open up some of that power and maybe get us somewhere.”

Yellow didn’t answer. He didn’t have to: he knew Larson had won that battle.

Just one of many, many to come.

#

Watch out! Now!

Yellow wasn’t helping, but he wasn’t hurting, either, and Parker was too focused to reply. He ran.

By this time, a few coppers were up on the rooftops with him. The thugs stayed down below, occasionally shooting when they thought they got the chance.

Parker was absolutely sure Larson would pitch a fit if he knew they were doing that.

“Stop!” called some breathless copper back there, but Parker did not.

He’d been afraid that ten years dead would leave him weak, less in shape than he’d been, but no: whatever else that Outer God had done, he’d left him fucking fit, and so Parker kept running.

The snow slowed him down. He slid a lot; caught himself in the nick of time more than once on a chimney or pipe, and kept going.

Laughing.

Because this was fucking great.

The air was freezing. The ice had cut his skin all over. And he was outrunning the world.

They’d get him eventually, he knew. A lucky bullet, or a patch of ice. He’d run out of roof, or these idiots would get their act together and pincer him. But until then?

Until then, he ran like a mountain goat, and cackled like a wolf.

So far, against all odds, he’d gotten away with it.

Look out!

More shooting.

“West! He’s going west!” shouted cops.

He wasn’t going to make it, but at least he’d try. He’d already been dead, anyway. This kind of death was way more his style than how it went the first time. “Got a do-over,” he breathed, rounding a chimney.

What?

“All we need now is that ticket to Carcosa!” he laughed. “We could take the ferry!”

The tickets would cost too much! A beat. That was a joke!

“Solid fucking work!” Parker approved, braced himself, and jumped.

He barely made this one. They’d gone too far downtown, away from the tenements, from the poorer, crowded housing. He wouldn’t make the next roof. His lead was small, but it would have to do. He started trying doors. Most of these places had exits onto the roof, and he spotted three more before the next alley—before the gap he couldn’t jump. He’d try climbing to the ground, or even into a window, but the goons would shoot him. Parker tried another door. Nope.

Shouts still followed them, gasping coppers and wicked goons, closing in. He tried a door.

It opened.

Parker didn’t hesitate. He threw himself inside.

#

His breathing was loud, but there was no way around that. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out he was in here, so he tore down the stairwell, skipping steps, jumping onto landings. If he could get out a back way and get around them somehow—

Couldn’t ask for help from strangers. Not with war going.

“Chances of this working out are one in a million, buddy!” He opted to try for a second story fire escape, hoping to catch a glimpse of where things lay before making this move. “How’s our luck looking?”

We should have been caught before we even left the estate, Yellow said, voice frantic, but there was a sort of wild mania about it, like Parker’s desperate laughter had become infectious. I—I am a god! It is my will that our luck is good! And he let out a howling laugh. I decree it! I command that it bend to our will, to change!

Parker laughed. “That’s the spirit! Ought'a take you with me any time I bet on the ponies.” And he peeked.

He could hear them down there—not in this alley, but around it, too near. The voices echoed; which damn side were they on?

He decided to assume both.

It was starting to get dark now; they’d been at this for hours. He wondered if he could trick them into thinking he’d gotten further away. If he could make it to the building across the way, he could maybe get through it to the other side, unseen, and further away from this cordon. They knew he couldn’t jump that distance. Maybe, just maybe, they’d focus on this building, giving him time.

Or maybe he’d still be caught the second he stuck his nose out.

Well. That was a possibility, either way. Parker made up his mind. “We’re gonna move,” he said very quietly. “We’re gonna head toward the river. They got culverts and shit down there. Might have a chance to lose them.”

A good idea. The water could disguise our scent, lose our footprints, Yellow said.

“Oh, our scent’ll be disguised, all right. It’s gross in there—but you can really lose a guy. Been part of more than one manhunt that went wrong thanks to that kind of mess underground. It’s risky… but I figure it’ll be risky for everybody, not just us. You in?”

I’m in. Yellow rumbled softly. I feel like I remember something about the underground, here. About tunnels. Tunnels can go many places, Parker. Another pause. But I don’t remember. I’m sorry.

“Don’t need to be, pal. Feel it with me, if you can: sucks that we might die, might get caught, might get hurt, but this is a fucking great way to do it. We are alive. You get it? More than any fuck just sitting in an office somewhere. You feel me?”

Parker… His voice was hesitant, full of disquiet. You… I do not have the power to… help, if all goes south. You might die.

“Pal, I’ve been dead. I’m gonna die anyway, someday, no matter how this goes. It doesn’t scare me as much as dying with regret ‘cause I didn’t live.”

I don’t want you to die, Yellow said softly. And I especially don’t want you to die for nothing, Parker.

“It’s okay, pal. I promised I’d try, so I’m gonna. If they do get us, it won’t be because we weren’t balls to the wall trying.” He watched. He counted voices, and did his best to identify location. Some were still above, shouting to each other. They still thought he was on the roof; this was the time to go. Parker took the fire escape down, heart pounding, and raced across to peek onto the sidewalk.

Luck was with them: they had a brief moment where the search party wasn’t here, wasn’t looking, wasn’t present. He ran all-out into the building beside him and started making his way back uptown.

#

Gophers, that’s what he was thinking of, and he laughed.

What is it? said Yellow, who sounded a bit tired.

Parker was more than a bit tired. He was fucking ragged; his coat was torn, the hat was long gone (and he hoped whoever found it needed a new one), and he was damned hungry. New bruises bloomed, visible and otherwise; the one copper who’d caught him had not been a lightweight, and managed to get cuffs on one wrist before Parker took him down.

And now that he’d taken a copper down, there was definitely no going back. Damn, these bruises sang. “Just thinking of what this is like from the outside,” he said. “Gophers.” He wiped sweat from his brow. The cuff on his wrist was too tight; he held the loose end lightly so he wouldn’t catch it on anything. Stupid copper, losing the key when they struggled.

They were nearly there.

Gophers? Said Yellow, sounding offended at the word.

“Yeah. Ducking into buildings, popping out again. Try to catch a gopher, and he goes under, and pops up in another hole out of reach.”

Oh. Yellow didn’t seem to think it was as funny, but that was fine. How much farther?

“My friend, we are one fucking street away from the slope down to the river—but from here out, there’s no cover. Hanging in there? I need you with me, pal.”

I am with you. He hesitated. I struggle to believe we’ve made it this far.

“You know, me, too? But I’m loving it. Heh. They ain’t never gonna forget this little runaround.”

Nevah, repeated Yellow, who every once in a while tried on Parker’s accent for size.

“Rule of thumb: can’t stop the bad guys? At least cost ‘em so much they regret it.” He breathed deeply, slowly, preparing for this race. Shouting men still called to one another behind him, and nearby; Larson himself had yet to make an appearance, but Parker knew he was around. Just felt it. His instinct was never wrong.

(Though maybe it had been about Arthur? No… no. Shit happened to that guy. Instinct couldn’t predict that.)

A pyrrhic victory. I… I can understand this, yes.

“Ready?” said Parker. “Three.”

Three.

“Two.”

Two!

“There he is!” some guy shouted from behind, and Parker ran for his life.

They shot at him, but they were dumb enough (and he was lucky enough) that they tried shooting while running instead of just standing still, and they mostly missed. He hurled himself down the hill toward the Hudson river and pounded along the steep bank. One of those culverts was dead ahead, built into the earth, dark and scary and nasty.

It would be cold as the devil’s ass in here.

Well, always wanted to kick somebody important where the sun don’t shine, he thought, and aimed himself for it.

He was right: the water was fucking cold.

I can taste it, Yellow complained, because it was true—the fug in here was thick.

No, YOU fucking go after him echoed behind them, and Parker laughed as he plunged wildly into the dark and hoped he wouldn’t break his damn neck.

#

Some gutter provided enough light for Parker to get a look at his side. The bullet had gone through, so he was right about that; but the damn thing hadn’t stopped bleeding, which he’d assumed it would.

It was one of those annoying wounds that only started hurting when he really got his eyes on it.

Yellow gasped. Parker!

“Easy. We’re not done. This just… fuck.” Not done yet, but this needed a doctor. Parker didn’t know one in New York he could go to. In Arkham, sure. Ten years ago.

He wasn’t so sure they’d be amenable to him now. Fuck.

“Nothing for it,” he muttered, balling up the coat and pressing it against the wound (and wow, that hurt) as he continued on.

It looks bad, Yellow moaned, doing nothing to help Parker take his mind off the injury. I’m… I can’t… I’m sorry. I… Our luck will hold. His voice grew firm. I demand it. Our luck will hold. Where are they?

The water had long numbed his feet; the smells were… really not worth considering. But the important thing was the voices of their pursuers, while occasionally still popping up, had yet to catch up.

Parker, where are we?

“This point? No idea. Not far enough, though, I can tell you that.”

I concur. I will be much happier when I cannot hear them at all. But this… it’s certainly not nearly as exciting as jumping across rooftops. Are we still “living?”

“We sure are, buddy.” Parker meant it, and answered without hesitation. “We get outta this, this part here? Is gonna make the best part of our story.”

Even though it’s just wading through shit in the dark?

“Yep.” He followed the line of light from various storm drains. This meant they were under some kind of main road, but he’d lost his sense of direction almost immediately getting in here (and knew part of that was going into shock, thanks to whichever lucky son of a bitch got him), and had absolutely no idea where they were. “This is gonna make the best part of our story.”

You said that already. Are you alright?

Fuck. He had. Parker stopped, bent over, and breathed for a minute. “Focus,” he said to himself. “Come on. Just a little further.”

But we don’t know that. How can you know that?

“It’s not about knowing it. It’s about believing it so I don’t lie down and give up.” And he did neither.

#

This didn’t really seem like a New York City sewer anymore.

He couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the distant sound of crashing water, like some crazy waterfall. Maybe it was the fact that the scents had changed; it wasn’t shit anymore. It was three things, alternating: sort of a soil smell, vegetation gone bad, and a meat smell.

That smell worried him. It didn’t seem real sewery. It seemed more… jungle. Like maybe there was some meat-eating thing down here.

“There’s rumors,” he said.

What?

“Rumors of alligators in the sewers. I mean. Can’t be. It gets cold, and they’re cold-blooded. But funny, right?”

Parker. Why would you bring this up now?

“Don’t you smell that? It’s real weird.”

Meat? Yellow blurted.

“Yep. Maybe we’re near a slaughterhouse? But no, I know we’re not.”

Meat… said Yellow, thoughtful. Meat. Why would there be meat in a sewer? That doesn’t make sense. The only thing I can think of…

He suddenly went very quiet.

“Buddy?”

Parker, how do people… care for their dead, in New York City?

“Same way they do most places, I guess. Bury ‘em in the cemetery.” He thought for a moment. “I guess we got in here not too far from Trinity Church cemetery. Not sure where we are now, but… yeah. Cemeteries. Used to be lots of them here. They got paved over for buildings and shit. Why?”

I… underground, in the Dreamlands, I remember there are… creatures, sometimes. They often eat the dead. I am unsure if you also have them here, but I would recommend caution, if you smell meat. No matter how fresh.

“Eat the…” Parker took a moment to process that one and stopped walking. “Guess that’s… efficient, huh?” His brow knit. “We don’t have those here. But then, you’re here, aren’t you?”

I was brought by magic, Yellow said, almost defensively. But yes. Larson could call upon many sorts of creatures on his own. These creatures, though… there’s a memory, but I cannot grasp it. I know something. His voice surged. I know something, Parker, but I don’t know what it is! I don’t… I don’t remember.

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. We’ll handle it.” Lower: “Don’t suppose you remember how dangerous they might be to living people.”

They were not dangerous to me, Yellow said with a hint of a whine. But… they… They were rational! They are rational, and can be communicated with. They’re not animals, Parker. We might… There was another heavy, meaningful pause. We might be able to convince them to take on our pursuers. Or, at the very least, lead them away—if we have something to offer.

“All I got on me is a bloody shirt, a coat, and the rock I picked up in the park. But hey; I can talk. Maybe we can figure something out.” Because Parker was sure something this weird would happen, here, under New York City, with a piece of a god in his head.

Stranger things have been offered in trade, and stranger things still have been accepted, Yellow said.

“We got this. And either way, I don’t know anybody else who saw corpse-eating guys under a city, so it’s an adventure.” And he walked forward.

He wasn’t trying to be overly quiet now, though he was listening sharply. If these things could be reasoned with, he didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to sneak up.

The damn wound was still bleeding. Sluggishly, but he was pretty sure it needed to be sewn shut. “If there’s anybody here,” he said, just a pinch louder, “I’m open for trade.” Lower: “And if not, I’m gonna fucking bash your head in if you try shit.”

Right on cue there was a sound like a dog taking a sharp, deep sniff.

Fuck.

Parker saw its eyes glinting in the hollow of a branching tunnel, glowing red in the dim light like a wolf’s. It stayed in the shadows, hunched, head tilting—and it sniffed again, deep. “You smell strange. Like a human, but also like the newly-food. You are not newly-food.”

The creature took a cautious step forward on its knuckles—its face was long, mouth jutting out like a snout, pointed ears perked forward, and its lips peeled back from its pale face in a hyena-like grimace. “I can smell your blood, human. What are you doing here?”

A ghoul, Yellow said softly.

Parker thought to himself that it was a damn good thing he’d had a lot of practice keeping his expression neutral. “We’re lost, friend. Not a super-fun situation, to be honest. Could use some help, if you’re up for it. I don’t have a lot to trade, but I’m willing.”

The ghoul tilted its head, like a dog hearing an interesting sound. “Lost? But you’re found, now. I can make you less lost, perhaps.” It slunk around the edge of the light from a manhole—Parker could see it move, the shape of a man hunched over and walking on long, clawed arms and legs with ankle and knee out of proportion, and clad in what looked to be a torn and heavily altered pair of pinstriped pants.

This thing probably knew his heart rate picked up, but there was nothing he could do about that. “That sounds like a good deal. I can trade you some info for sure. Uh. Not sure what else I’ve got.” He offered a crooked grin, hoping it read human facial expressions. “I’m not exactly bargaining from the best position here, so I hope you’ve got some kindness in ya.”

It sniffed at him again. “Another smell. A strange smell. Hm.” It sat back on its haunches, the pants creaking. “But where to? Lost is relative if you have no map. Up, or down?”

Parker, Yellow said softly. I remember now. Ghouls… They’re from the Dreamlands. I told you. I think this one knows how to get there.

There was the sound of a muffled curse, echoing and faint from down the tunnel. The ghoul’s ears flicked toward it, its eyes focusing hard on the tunnel.

Or, Yellow said, his voice thin and hesitant. Or… We could… get out. Find a way out of New York.

“It is cold,” the ghoul said, eyeing Parker—or, specifically, his coat. “I take you, up or down, and you give me the coat. Yes?”

It was a choice. Like that poem Arthur always used to quote—something about two paths in a yellow wood.

Parker knew Earth, or at least New England. Chances were, he could get help here—people who knew him well enough not to think he was somehow working for the enemy.

But on the other hand… a new world. An entirely new one—and, well. He’d promised Yellow. His gut said that really mattered. “Free advice first,” he said. “Bunch of goons looking through here with guns, and they’ll shoot. So stay out of their way.” And he held up the coat. “It’s got my blood on it. That a problem?”

“Mmm… foolish. We will be gone before these goons catch us.” It snorted. “The others will keep their distance. We crave no trouble. But your trust is noted.” Very gingerly it stretched out a hand, feeling the thick wool. “Blood is blood. It matters not to me. In time its scent will fade, and be but a memory—the stain shall remind me of your kindness. I accept. Up, or down?”

Parker was sharply aware of Yellow’s silence. “Which one gets me to the Dreamlands?”

Yellow gasped.

His gut had been right: this mattered.

“Down,” the ghoul said. “Brave man. Foolish man. But… the scent did not lie.”

The voices grew louder. The ghoul’s head snapped towards the tunnel.

“We go now,” it said, turning and loping into a side tunnel. “The coat you will give in time.”

“Thanks.” Brave and foolish—yeah, that sounded about right. He was okay with those descriptors. Parker followed at once, trying to step where this thing stepped.

Parker, Yellow whispered. Are you sure? We’re going to the Dreamlands?

“Yeah,” he murmured softly. “Said I would. This guy’s our ticket.” Damn, the goons were closer than he’d thought—and they weren’t exactly quiet. He might, he thought, have bled more than he’d realized. That was going to be a problem.

A problem for this Dreamlands place. He debated asking about Carcosa. Debated if that would be giving too much away. Decided to see where this new friend chose to drop him instead.

The ghoul stopped at a t-junction, pausing to paw at the wall. Bricks began to come free, tumbling to the ground and splashing in the sluggish, dark water at the bottom of the sewers. Piece by piece, a tunnel was revealed, large enough for Parker to walk through with only the barest stoop, the edges of it roughly clawed out, but smoothed by the passage of time and bodies.

The voices sounded off again. Arguments about splitting up.

The ghoul’s ears pinned, and it let out a soft growl. “The coat, please.”

Parker handed it over at once. “I owe you more than a coat, man. Thank you. Anything I should know before going through?”

It took it, petting the fabric with its hand. “You will be in the Underworld. It is not a place for you. There are stairs. Climb them to the light, and you will be free.” And then its head snapped forward, sniffing at Parker’s side. “And find a healer. Your blood turns to poison by the minute.”

I… If we can get to the surface, I might remember. I will remember something, Parker. I’ll get you to safety.

“Yeah, running through sewers fucked up’ll do that to you.” Parker grinned wryly. “They got guns. Someone might have magic. Good luck. And thanks.” He didn’t have a hat to tip, but he could salute, and did.

Then he dove in.

Behind them he could hear bricks being shoved haphazardly back into place, cutting off the last vestiges of light.

He couldn’t see super-well, but down was hopefully enough of a warning.

#

It felt like days before the slope evened out again, and Parker suddenly stumbled into a massive chamber that echoed with every shocked step. It was dark but for a faint gray light that clung to everything like mist, the temperature cool, but not freezing—a stark change from the sewers of New York.

Yellow let out another soft gasp.

The ceiling was far above them, dark as pitch and featureless but for the faint cracks and spots of light that speckled its surface, like lonely embers of a scattered fire. In the distance, he could see what looked like mountains, lit with the foxfire glow of whatever the fuck went on in this underground area, and he could see what looked like some sort of black-stone city at the base of one of them, and…

The stairs, Parker, Yellow said. There! We can get to the surface, and find a healer. Are you ready?

Parker made one small noise. It wasn’t a laugh or a sob; it was something else, just some raw emotion, and he wiped his leaking eyes. “I’m in another world, buddy. Me. Fuckin’ Parker Yang from Boston.” Then he shook himself. “Yeah. Stairs. This’ll be fun, I’m sure.” He felt too much wonder to flip into true sarcasm. “Let’s do this.”

Pahkah Yang, from Bahston. Private Eye. Adventurer. It was almost a delirious laugh. I’m almost home. We’re almost there, Parker.

He could tell his lungs were a little less efficient from blood loss—but “healer” sounded promising. “I’ll get you there, buddy, if it takes my last breath.” And he couldn’t help saying it. “Funny, huh? All that time, all those years, all those sacrifices. and Larson could’a just asked and gotten you home like that.”

There was a deep, heavy silence.

I suppose I had to wait for someone with competence, Yellow finally said, voice soft and hesitant—like he was asking permission.

“Heh. He’s competent plenty—but I think he meant to keep you. We got this, you and me. I wanna see this shining jewel of a city you talked about.” He wiped his eyes again. “Guess I had to die to get a chance at a better life. Go figure.”

I will ensure you are rewarded, in whichever way you prefer. The Dreamlands would bend to someone of your talents—but if you want to go home, when all is done, I will see what I can do. Yellow paused for a moment. I rather like you, Parker. I will see to it I keep my promise as well.

“That’s real sweet of you, kid. Appreciate it.” Parker stumbled—not enough to fall, or tumble down, but enough that he had to kneel for a moment and catch his breath. “So, just connected to nothing, how do we find a healer? And, uh, can I do dishes or something to pay them?”

The nearest town should have one—and if we’re especially lucky they will be a Cana, and will help us regardless of our ability to pay. If not, they may have us do some tasks for them in exchange: there are many different kingdoms in the Dreamlands, and not all accept the same coin. A deep sigh. I would settle for a traveling bard, even. We’ve one hell of a story to tell, and most of them know at least some minor magics.

“We do have a hell of a story! See? It’s already paying off.” He took a moment and breathed, then resumed, this time at a slower pace, but one he could keep steady. His sweat had gone cold. He knew his body was giving out, but they were almost there. “Magic seems real handy to know. Maybe we should learn some.”

I would use magic now, if I was certain it wouldn’t kill you, Yellow said. Are you alright? You’re stumbling. Our mouth feels strange.

“I’ve been bleeding for a while, buddy. Human bodies are kinda dumb that way—they lose too much juice and they go all wacky.” His new pace seemed to be the right plan. “So magic would kill me, huh?”

Without the attunement process, chances are high. Do you need to stop and rest? There was real fear in the voice now. Larson never… He never got hurt, from what I could see. Other people took risks for him.

“Yeah, that’s rich-guy shit for you. Guys like us have to do the work ourselves.” He took a moment to answer the first question. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to stop here. Feels like we’d be… dunno. Setting ourselves up.”

You’re right. Yellow somehow took a deep breath without lungs. Magic. Let’s talk about magic, then. Humans can use it, but you have to work up to it. Too much would kill you right away—from what you described, I would have thought that’s what had happened to Arthur, though it seems as though something else entirely happened instead. But you… I don’t know. I would have to introduce you to magic slowly, to make sure it didn’t burn your blood to cinders if I tried to heal you. Do you want to learn magic, Parker?

He finally stopped walking so he could laugh, leaning on the wall. “Fucking hell, buddy… went from, ‘hey, turns out you got a soul after all, and hey, there’s gods,’ to ‘do you wanna be a wizard’ real fast, didn’t we?” He continued laughing as he resumed his climb.

Oh, you don’t wish to be the great Pahkah tha Wise? Content with being Pahkah tha Brave?

He laughed again. “Wise? Don’t know I ever got called that before. Hey, you know what? We’re in this all the way. All the way to Carcosa, and whatever happens there. Tell you what: you think I can learn magic? I could learn how to heal shit. That’d make life a hell of a lot easier.”

If I attuned you to magic, I could heal you. And yes, that would make everything much, much easier. He rumbled a bit. I think… Yes, I think you could use magic with responsibility.

Parker took a moment to breathe; it sounded thick and labored. “You won’t be pissed if I can’t do it, right?”

No, I would hardly hold it against you if you were unable to use magic. It is the get of gods, not mortals—the talent of even those most skilled mortals pales in comparison to the weakest of the true gods. If you were unable, I could still cast through you once you had been attuned. I had to, for some spells that were too big for Larson, much like the ritual he and I were conducting when you arrived.

“Sounds like you were real useful to him.” There was no censure in this. It was just a statement; and yet, like many of his recent words regarding Larson, it carried strange weight.

Just a pinch quieter, Yellow added, And will you be angry with me? If I cannot will the stars to move, or turn mortal flesh incorruptible?

Parker snorted. “Kid, I’m just happy we’re alive. You turn water to wine, or just keep some damn bread soft, it’ll be enough for me. Hey—What was that ritual for, anyway? The one that blew up and got me involved.”

There was that hesitation again. Fear tinted Yellow’s answer. The ritual we performed was meant to contact another Great Old One so we could broker a deal with them, offer sacrifices for power. Power for Larson, to handle the spells that it would require for me to ascend to something more like my other half; power for me, to bolster and feed the magic through Larson as well. He had… there were many who followed him who would slit their own throats at his command. Some of them would even do so eagerly.

“Shit. No wonder you wanted to go back. Sounds like you were halfway to your goal.” He looked up. There was an exit up there—a pinpoint, bright, still, and tiny. Parker clenched his jaw. He could do this. Slower, he kept climbing. “Those poor saps. They didn’t even get shit out of it, did they?”

For Larson, most people are merely a means to an end. To an extent, I believe he and I were this to each other, too. Though slightly less glamorous, this is a far more direct way to achieve what I want, so I am certainly glad for your interruption. Yellow noticed the point of light as well, letting out a soft gasp. We’re almost there, Parker. You are truly magnificent, did you know that?

Parker snorted. “I’m just stubborn as hell, buddy. That’s not magnificent.” His breathing was wet. “Almost wish we had run into him. Might like to see if he’s got a glass jaw.”

I’m afraid I must disagree: I would prefer to never, ever lay eyes on that miserable little man again. There’s a finality, there, shot through with relief. We’re almost at the top. Fantastic work, Parker.

“Helps having a good travel companion.” He stumbled out into weird, new sunlight, onto unfamiliar ground. The air tasted strange; it was all different, so different, but he couldn’t see so good right now. “This what country air’s like?” he said, and then he collapsed.

PARKER! It was a desperate cry as he hit the dirt. Parker, no! I didn’t realize it was so bad. Oh, gods, I’ve killed us both. I’m so sorry, Parker. I’m so, so sorry.

Parker couldn’t answer. The daylight was bright, too bright, twisting at the edges.

Yellow let out a gut-wrenching sob. You fucking did it, Parker. You brought me home. You kept your promise. I will be eternally grateful to you for that. But I wasn’t…

There was that silence again. Heavy. Looming.

But I made you a promise in turn, didn’t I? And… And if you’re not going down without a fight, neither am I. If this doesn’t work, so be it. But at least I can face you in the Dark World knowing I tried. There was a dark sound, a snarl, a sharp intake of breath. I will not go gentle into that good night. And neither will you. I am the King in Fucking Yellow, and this is my will!

Parker’s mouth moved, tongue licking his lips, and with a voice that was both his own and something completely alien, a single word like the sound of an avalanche boomed from his lips as Parker fully passed out.

(chapter three)

[rhywhitefang]

Last Hour References Part 1

Poor Lighton, disoriented, confused, and doesn't even have a shirt on his back </3 At first, I pictured our boy as blond but at this point, I do think the dark hair suits him in a different way :)

My favorite thing about Heliogabs outfit is the rubber boots :) And of course I had to feature the hook since they're putting it to such diligent use

I like Aiden's freckles, they make him look so cute. And how could I deny him his signature bow? Getting ready to shoot! The glass blower outfit. In the beginning the sleeves were just as poofy as his trousers but that looked quite ridiculous. Also ever since Phi pointed it out to me, I can't unsee that the pockets on his apron form a fucking smiley face. You're welcome.

I had a very clear vision for Caviens outfit from the beginning, with the one exception that I only added the pattern for his coat at the last minute though. I like that I did that though because I think it pulls the look together and makes it seem just a bit more fancy for our mayor here.

If you talked to me at all it's been pretty clear that I like Tesla a lot and I think that's evident from the way I draw him.

Honestly, I really like Lithos overalls, he looks adorable. I was a bit sloppy with the plaid pattern but I think you can still tell what it's supposed to be.

Diego's whole get up was super clear to me from the beginning, and it was one of the ones that already had a design before I did any of the others. The feather cape isn't even that much of a pain to draw and I think it really fits the whole vibe. It was the mask that I designed fresh for these, and I'm happy with it, I think it's the most "Venecian" mask out of all of them.

Speaking of masked dancers, I really wanted to emphasise the whole insect theme with Cas. This is why he has like, this almost armor-like body suit. You know, like an exoskeleton. With every body part being partitioned in its own section. Originally, I had the wings at his shoulders like a cape, but I like the look of this better, more ornamental at his hips. His mask has a pretty clear and detailed description in the story so I didn't have to interpret too much.

Fun fact! Joule is the only person in this arena wearing a dress! I even gave her a corset for it, and - sorry to gush - I think she looks just to die for. With her role, I thought it made sense to give her something-coat like, but I wanted to be cute, so I give her a little coat dress. She even gets a silly little hat^^

I've been told that Silvins snake theme isn't quite as obvious as I'd like it to be with his costume, which uh.... fair enough. I mean, he does have a snakeskin texture through his jacket and the flaps around his hood are supposed to be reminiscient of a cobra, but I can see how that doesn't totally come through. His mask is also the one that I'm not 100% satisfied with... it doesn't look very wearable ^^'

Tiffany's outfit is another one that's pretty clearly described, so I didn't have to add all that much. The fun is in picking the coloro f her headwrap.

I have an entire folder full of tattoos for Mateo^^ He's got a lot of them and only some of them are specifically described. Although I don't think I'll be drawing him shirtless any time soon for this exact reason.

I think Tave's outfit is the one that gets the most thorough description of all them in the story, so I honestly just drew what was described. My only addition is the off-the-shoulder cape. I just think it looks cool^^

[teenz-stories]

Teen-Z: Forever Young #1-I Don’t Wanna Be Your Ex (Part 8)

Scene changes into Creepy and Mermaid getting to the closed for the night spa. Mermaid lights up the hairdressing room as Creepy stares amazed. Ninelle now wears black top with long sleeves,black skirt,black stockings and black high heels. She also has now choker on her neck. Mermaid meanwhile has on herself orange dress and same colored D’orsays.

Ninelle: gasps This place looks beautiful at nights!

Mermaid: Well. I can’t agree more. She gets her keys from her black apron as she opens the doors to the shelf with hairdressing tools There we are!

Ninelle: confused There we are what?

Mermaid: smiles widely Which hairstyle do you wanna have,dear? I’m all yours.

Ninelle: shyly You know. I always wanted to try pigtails.

Mermaid: nods This can be settled up dear.

Mermaid gets two rubber bands in her hands,gel and hairbrush. Creepy watches amazed her transformation. Finally Mermaid puts back her tools as she looks amazed at her work. Ninelle then smiles and hugs Mermaid. Seconds later Camilla’s body is wrapped in beige magic glow as she floats in the air. Song ,,Helping Hand” starts as she transforms.

[Female Singer]

A helping hand

Is enough to make someone’s day better

Look around.

There’s still so much more to you

Spread these wings and fly!

You’re still young and bold!

We’re sparkling in the midnight

Together,forever.

We’re teenagers after all

Together,forever.

Song ends as Mermaid steps out coughing. She has now on herself pink,teal and stone blue with golden accents top,same colored sarong skirt and black-pink sandals. Now she also has some glitter on her face.

Mermaid: looks in the mirror as she gasps in shock Oh my gosh! This isn’t happening.

Ninelle: scared Are we a victim of something weird?

Mermaid: starts to panic  I hope not! She tries to wash the glitter from her face but the glitter stays No! She then notices beige necklace sparkling on her neck I could swear I didn’t had it here few minutes ago.

Ninelle: sighs Look. Maybe it’s result of failed experiment? We had alchemy yesterday. Or maybe something happened when we were making that slime?

Mermaid: Impossible,darling! I checked the ingredients thrice! None of them would have this effect.

Meanwhile to the spa comes white pegasus woman with red,bob cut hair. She has now on herself camouflage colored vest,shirt,pants and kitten heels. On her hair can be visible same colored as her outfit bow.

Dia Paradise: shocked Camilla?! What are you doing at this hour?!  She looks at her watch It’s... almost 9 PM!

Mermaid: looks shocked at her boss  Dia?! Oh my gosh,I didn’t knew you will come here! I'm sorry!

Dia: giggles raising her eyebrow up You’ve been doing makeovers?

Mermaid: laughs nervously You can say it!

Dia: looks calmly at Mermaid’s beige necklace I love this necklace. It suits you. I got nothing against you giving your friends a favor.

Mermaid: shocked You don’t?!

Dia: shrugs Nah. Makeovers are like stories to be told.  The more peoples can understand the story you speak to them. The better.

Mermaid: If you love telling stories more. Then why did you opened the spa?

Dia: smiles gently Because during massages I can tell my clients amazing stories my mother used to tell me when I was little. Once they are okay with me telling them stories. I am telling them. It helps peoples to relax.

Ninelle: look amazed You need to teach me this!

Dia: looks gently at Creepy Maybe someday,kid. She then turns to Mermaid Once you’ll be done with your makeovers. Please clean up and close the building for a night. We don’t want burglary,trust me.

Mermaid: salutes Sure thing,boss!

As her boss leaves Mermaid is scared.

Mermaid: Call Pinky. Tell her that before we will start shooting tomorrow ,we will have serious talk.

Scene changes into Pinky and Luvboy sitting near computer. Luvboy opens his animation program. Then he imports Pinky’s puppet rig from his folder.

Pinky: You already made puppet rig of me?!

Alvin: I told you. None of you wanted to be in my video because you were busy. And I decided to instead do animation.

Pinky: shyly Can I try?

Alvin: moves his butt Sure. Just don’t ruin anything.

Pinky notices many dots on her puppet rig. She moves a bit her model’s leg. Luvboy khms.

Alvin: It’s better to invest in timelines. Just so your model can move well. He clicks with his right side of mouse ,,add timeline" Now you can move your other part.

Pinky moves her model’s head. As she understands now,she moves her hands,legs and once again head. Finally Luvboy sees result. He gives Pinky thumbs up.

Alvin: Not bad for the first time.

Seconds later he feels purple glow assaulting him. He gasps in shock.

Alvin: scared Pinky,what’s happening?!

Pinky: scared trying to move the glow from her ex Hang on! I will fix it!

As she tries to,the light consumes Luvboy as his transformation starts. Song ,,Helping Hand” resumes.

[Female Singer]

You feel the light?

Don’t need to worry now

Mission’s complete

Now enjoy the results

Look around.

There’s still so much more to you

Spread these wings and fly!

You’re still young and bold!

We’re sparkling in the midnight

Together,forever.

We’re teenagers after all

Together,forever.

Song ends as Luvboy steps out coughing. He has black t-shirt with pink bunny on it,black and pink vest,same colored pants and same colored sneakers. On his neck he has purple necklace and on his face he has glitter.

Alvin: That was strange... he looks at his new outfit scared Pinky?! What’s going on?!

Pinky: Hate to tell you this but this outfit isn’t the only new thing in you. She gives him mirror

He notices he has necklace and glitter on his face and hair. He goes to the bathroom to wash it. Seconds later Pinky hears groan.

Alvin: leaving bathroom It can’t be washed! He sits on the bed sadly At least I taught you something today.

Pinky: unamused At least I gotten rid off something heavy from myself today. You think Charlie will cry to have me back?

Alvin: giggles Knowing him? Definitely.

Pinky: smiles Don’t worry too much about this small glow-up. I kinda like you this way better.

Alvin: gently teasingly Even with glitter on my face and hair?

Pinky: laughing Yes. Then her face turns serious But we need to talk about it with Wiccy before we will start shooting music video.

Alvin: How do you know it won’t wear off untill tomorrow?

Pinky takes a pic of Luvboy.

Pinky: Even if it will. I have a proof now. Definitely Nerd will be up for some testing. She’s always up for that.

Scene changes into already morning. Mermaid’s asleep on her spa couch. Dia comes to the building smiling. She creeps on Mermaid as she whispers to her ear.

Dia: Camilla. Wake up.

Mermaid wakes up screaming. She looks at herself. She again wears her outfit when she arrived here and glitter is gone from her hair and face.

Mermaid: shocked noticing necklace is also gone It’s...gone?

Dia: Yeah. I am surprised you gotten rid of that gorgeous outfit. It suited you. You were in the middle of dress up and I disturbed you yesterday?

Mermaid: confused No. Actually something magical happened to me.

Dia: sits amazed next to Mermaid Oh,tell me with details!

Mermaid: I helped Ninelle and suddenly some weird force transformed me! Weird.

Dia: presses her thumb against her chin Indeed,weird. You didn’t thought about speaking about it with expert?

Mermaid: blinks confused I thought you have knowledge about all magical shenanigans.

Dia: she raises up from couch Nah. I only know magical stories my mother used to tell me when I was little. She goes to get her spa uniform Mermaid? You don’t have school today?

Mermaid: No. We have week off. Demiloon is sick and Brav is out with his class for few days.

Dia: Don’t you have other teachers?

Mermaid: Maybe there is,but Brav and Demiloon are our main.

Dia: blinks confused Okay.

Mermaid: I promised Pinky to arrive on the set in an hour. She said something weird happened with Alvin yesterday. She gasps Maybe same thing like with me?!

Dia: giggles Relax. Take it easy. Maybe your friend will know the answer then what happened?

Mermaid: gasps again Darling,I hope so! She then looks for the Ninelle at the spa but she didn’t found her You seen anywhere Ninelle?

Dia: she points at the doors I seen her leaving when I arrived.

Mermaid nods as she leaves the spa building running to the movieset.